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nimata-beroya · 1 year

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Note: Since my old masterlist is getting notes again (and I'm hosting @tbb-appreciation-week this year), I thought it's a good time to release a new version with a lot more resources. If any of you know another site or thing that it's missing from the list, let me know and I'll include it!! [Altho, I'm getting this close 🤏 to the hyperlinks limit on this thing 😆]

Note 2: To avoid tagging the 3 people from whom I got multiple resources repeatedly, I've placed 1-3 asterisks between square brackets after the links, depending on the OP. I give the respective credit to them in a legend at the end of the post.

PLACES / TIME

Interactive Galaxy Map by Henry Bernberg

Map of the Galaxy

List of planets and moons [Wikipedia /needs expanding]

Planet Name Generator 1 [SciFi Ideas]

Planetary System Generator [Donjon]

Tatooine Location References [*]

Various locations Cross-Sections (Jedi Temple, Palp's office, Tipoca City & more) [**]

Republic - Separatist - Hutt space during the Clone Wars

Hyperspace Travel Times (to calculate how much time would take to go from point A to point B within the GFFA)

Standard Calendar and Holidays [including month names!]

Galactic Standard Calendar [wookiepedia // including week day names]

Date converter according to SWTOR [Google sheet]

Dated Star Wars Chronological Order (Movies + live-action shows + animation)

TCW Chronological Timeline by @mauvrix

Estimated date for: shared by @spectres-fulcrum

Partisans' attack on Onderon

Siege of Lasan

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

General

Star Wars Name Generator 1 [Donjon]

Star Wars OC flow chart by @thefoodwiththedood

Star Wars Name Generator 2 [FantasyNames]

Star Wars Name Generator 3 [FantasyNames]

MetaHuman [Unreal Engine]

The character creator

Droid Name Generator

Star Wars Randomizer by @aureutr

Character Picrew [Twi-leks, Zabraks, Torgutas and Nautolans] @/megaramikaeli

Jedi

Taking a Closer Look at the Jedi Order in Star Wars Canon [Meta/Reference Guide] [**]

Jedi Order Structure Flowchart by @rileys-nest

Mandalorians

Mandalorian Armor design by MandoCreator

Keepers of the Way (Mandalorian Lore) [*]

Clones

Complete List Of Named Clone Troopers shared by @propheticfire (Organized by Unit)

Clone Creator [MandoCreator]

Clone Picrew

Star Wars Character Templates by SmacksArt [the ULTIMATE battery of template for any human/humanoid original character in any era. From troopers to droids, from Jedi to Sith, from KOTOR to the sequel Trilogy. 100% RECOMMENDED]

Basic Guide to Clone Trooper Armour by @odekiisu

GAR structure summary by @intermundia

The Clone Wars Republic Military Hierarchy Flowcharts [***]

Clone Trooper Lore [*] [Ranks, Culture, Training, Organization, etc.]

Clones and Kamino [*]

The Bad Batch Characters Concept Art shared by @shadowthestoryteller

MISCELLANEOUS

Star Wars Character Age Comparison Chart by @the-yearning-astronaut

Tusken Raiders lore by @snarwor

Materials (fabrics, leathers, silks, plastics, construction, metal composites, etc.)

Materials in Star Wars by marvel_dc_heart_throbs

Star Wars Fashion [*]

Leisure, Art, Musical Instruments, Ethnography [*]

Political and Criminal Organizations in the GFFA [**]

Financial reference about credits by @thecoffeelorian

List of TCW Opening Quotes

Transcripts of all the TCW episodes shared by @book-of-baba-fett

Star Wars Crawl Creator [not exactly writing-related, but just for fun]

HEALTH AND MEDICINE

Canon Medical Lore [*]

Real World reference for Field organizational structure for corpsman (medics) [*]

Kaliida Shoals Medical Center (Republic Haven-class medical station) shared by @clonewarsarchives

GAR Battalion Aid Station [*]

GAR Clone Medic Q/A [*]

More combat medicine, shipboard medicine, veteran issues, and military culture [*]

SHIPS AND VEHICLES

Ship Generator 3D

Ship Name Generator

All Terrain Tactical Enforcer (AT-TE) shared by @stairset

Republic Vessels Reference [*]

Low Altitude Assault Transport/Infantry (LAAT/i) [*]

List of GAR Flagships in the Clone Wars by @meandmyechoes

Layout of the Havoc Marauder

Dimensions of various ships from the Clone Wars [**]

FOOD AND DRINKS

Star Wars Menu Generator

In-Universe Alcoholic beverages

Canon Cocktails (recipes) [*]

Another In-Universe Drinks list shared by @systemic-dreams

Teas in Star Wars by marvel_dc_heart_throbs

Foodstuff [*]

Canon Star Wars Holiday Recipes [*]

Trask Chowder Recipe (from The Mandalorian) [*]

LANGUAGES; PHRASES AND SLANG; VOCABULARY

Languages of the Galaxy [*]

Script of different languages in the GFFA by @lucif-hare-blog

In-Universe phrases and slang [Google sheet]

List of phrases and slang [wookiepedia]

List of equivalents to real-world objects [wookiepidia]

Talk Like a Clone Trooper shared by @archeo-starwars

Aurebesh Translator [Aurebesh.org]

Learning Aurebesh Tools [Aurebesh.org] Reading - Writing.

Mando'a Database [Mando.org]

Mando'a Transcripticon [MandoCreator] (Create your own text in the Mando'a script.)

@project-shereshoy (Blog that collects and posts sources for Mando'a from all over the internet.)

Mando’a Categorized Spreadsheet

Learning Mando'a Tools [MandoCreator] Reading - Writing.

Setting Thesaurus Entry: Spaceport [Writers helping writers]

Fan-created Conlangs

@dai-bendu-conlang (Jedi Culture Explored) (This blog is the home of the Dai Bendu Conlang, invented by the Archive of Our Own Users aroacejoot, @ghostwriterofthemachine, and loosingletters for the Jedi Order in Star Wars.)

Lasana Lexicon by Anath_Tsurugi (fandom lexicon of the Lasat Language)

HELPFUL BLOGS & SITES

The amazing @fox-trot, who not only makes astonishing art and write an amazing fic, she also responds to medical questions and gives all kinds of references for writing medic characters. Check her #medicposting tag and you'll find tons of information. Also check #star wars reference and her art tag while you're at it.

@writebetterstarwars, which seems to be inactive, but there are a bunch of references there.

@howtofightwrite The place to find out how to write a good fight scene.

@scriptmedic no longer active, but it has a great deal of useful information.

@scripttorture for your whump needs. Major trigger warning for all its content.

@sw-anthrobiology A blog dedicated to collecting headcanons about the biology and cultures of Star Wars species.

@archeo-starwars In-universe sources on culture and history.

@clonewarsarchives Resources & Concept Art Blog for The Clone Wars animated series.

Wookiepedia If you don't find something in here, it's probably because it doesn't exist, neither as a canon nor legends reference.

Star Wars Databank: The official Star Wars website's reference guide. All canon.

WRITING IN GENERAL (For those who don't want to die like Stormtroopers)

SlickWrite: Completely free; online. Checks grammar, punctuation, flow, and writing style according to different settings (including fiction writing).

ProWritingAid: [RECOMMENDED] One of the most thorough online proofreader I've ever used. Although when using a free account gives extremely thorough feedback, with +20 different in-depth reports, for only the first 500 words. However, you can earn a premium account license (for a year or for life) if you get 10 or 20 new users signing up for free; (if you wouldn't mind doing so using the link above and help me earn mine, please). The settings allow you to check your writing according to your needs, from general to formal to creative. It has a bonus that you can check depending on the genre you're writing. For example, in creative, you can choose romance or sci-fiction (there are 14 sub-genre in total). And just like google docs, you can share a document, and people can view, comment or edit it too.

LanguageTool: [RECOMMENDED] Another excellent proofreader. It also has a word limit in free accounts, but if you use the add-on for Google Docs, it counts each page as a new document, so hitting the word limit is nearly impossible. It helps you to rewrite a sentence (3 a day), even if it doesn't raise any flags; it's very useful for when your sentence is grammatically correct, but it doesn't feel quite right.

Grammarly, Hemingway Editor: No so great, but they do the basic job.

Legend

[*] Shared by @fox-trot [**] Shared by @gffa [***] Shared by @cacodaemonia.

#star wars writing resources #star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #the mandalorian #sw rebels #tcw #tbb #the book of boba fett #andor #obi wan kenobi series #tales of the jedi #ahsoka show #sw resistance #writing resources #long post

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regicidal-optimism · 2 months

Note

You've been reblogging more stuff about female characters getting ignored by fandoms recently and I would be really curious to hear your full views on the topic.

The thing is that... look. I get it. Many fandoms do not have very many women in their canon, many of those women are treated pretty poorly by the canon or aren't given as much depth as their male peers, and if you're at all picky the pickings are kind of slim (I would love to be a fan of c!Niki, if I were able to watch six-hour vods, which I am not). It is not wrong that most works with large fandoms are really, really sexist, and the problem is not just in the fanbase!

But come the fuck on. It is not an accident that the DSMP and the MCU and BNHA, all of which are vast-majority male and the female characters are treated terribly, are megafandoms, and Revolutionary Girl Utena is eligible for yuletide. It is not wrong that if you want to see more female-character-focused fanwork you should go to Sailor Moon and not The Untamed, but it is also kind of missing the point to say that and not look at the difference in size between those fandoms. People can say "it's because the male characters are so often more interesting and have more meaningful interactions," and like, sometimes that's even true, I will be the first to tell you that quackbur has more to it than tinarose, but please compare the Clint/Coulson tag to the Utena/Anthy tag and look me in the eye and tell me that's the only thing driving the trend. With a straight face.

And even more there's a thing where— so, I was a mod in the @ao3topshipsbracket bracket. And femslash ships, once they were in the bracket, did really well. Like, absurdly well, like 80% of the f/f ships entered got to the top 16, and the last one was against blackbonnet which was never gonna lose in round 1. You might notice something about that number, though, which is that there were only five of them entered total, because people love to vote for femslash but they absolutely will not write it. And they won't say anything about it either! I was watching the activity feed the entire tournament, and I can tell you, for all of the "let's go lesbians" that populated our notes, nobody would say anything that was actually about the specific characters who made up their ship. I learned a lot about Naruto fandom, modding that bracket; I still know nothing about CW Supergirl, because the only thing anyone would say about it is "it has women in it". Because women are interchangeable. Because women are avatars of Being A Good Feminist. Because clicking a button is easy, and actually thinking about any specific woman and her traits and her internality is hard.

The thing is that guilt over misogyny does not actually fix misogyny. It gets you a lot of people who vote for women in polls, and who say "he's like a woman to me" about their male faves but notably don't have any canonically female characters they talk about, and who say that the only thing they care about in a fic is if it has women in it but will not ever actually say anything about any specific woman, and who never shut up about yuri but apparently yuri is everything and anything except women who have feelings about one another.

I'm tired! I'm very tired. I want people to actually give a shit about specific women and their specific traits, which do not begin and end with "woman". And, also, to stop treating women exclusively as the wingmen, advice-givers, mom figures, and accessories of men.

#grace dot text #ask #fandom misogyny #discourse cw #creative reading

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ateliersss · 10 months

Text

He Will Come

Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: You were caught three days after you and your son's arrival on earth by an organization called Project Stargazer. Now you both were treated like guinea pigs. No wonder, considering said son was a hybrid of human and Yautja. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 4,126

You had been stupid, so stupid. You should have listened to Mi'ytiar, should have listened to him when he told you to stay on the ship during your stay on earth while your son went hunting. You had insisted on coming with him, as you desperately wanted to see your home planet again.

Not that you missed it. You loved Mi'ytiar, loved to be his mate, loved your life with him, your son and the new life you had on Yautja Prime.

You had just wanted to get out of the ship, get some fresh air, and see the full moon, which you couldn't see in your new home, when you suddenly were surrounded by soldiers. You didn’t even think about defending yourself, not in your condition. You had let it happen when they grabbed you and put you roughly in one of the black SUVs.

So many questions swirled around in your mind — how did they found you? What about the ship? What did they want with you? Would they hurt you? And what about Akail? Was he hurt?

You hadn’t dared to ask the armed men who were in the car with you. They all had looked at you with different emotions on their faces — disgust, curiosity, anger. One of them wore a grin that made your skin crawl.

When they arrived at their base, you were dragged through many corridors and were examined by — and you thanked God for that — female doctors. They took your blood, forced your into a strange suit, and put you into a completely white room.

Now you sat in a corner, huddled together. The door was in the middle of the wall on the other side of the room. A camera hung in the corner across from you from the ceiling and had an overview of the entire room. It reminded you of an interrogation room with windows to the left and right of the door, which looked like a mirror from the inside but allowed a glimpse into the room from the outside. A table and two chairs were standing in the middle.

You had pulled your legs to your chest as much as your swollen belly would allow, and your head leaned sideways against the wall.

It’s gonna be okay, you thought to yourself, everything’s gonna be fine.

You didn't know if you were trying to calm yourself down or your pup, who could sense your agitation and responded to you with kicking. You sat up straight in a cross-legged position, wrapped your arms protectively around your belly and caressed it soothingly.

Don’t worry, little one. Your daddy will get us out of here, he and your mei’hswei. We’ll be home soon. We can’t wait to meet you.

Not far from you, Sean Keyes greeted Casey Bracket. “There you are!” He said as soon as Casey stepped out of the elevator. “Welcome, I–“

Before he could continue, Casey walked straight past him to look at the two metal helmets and something that looked like a gun, everything displayed behind thick glass. None of it was human.

“Alien technology… Is that what you wanted me to see?” Casey's eyes wandered to the other showcases that displayed more weapons and equipment. “Can I take a better look at it?”

“Ahh.” Sean laughed, “But you haven’t even seen the main attraction.”

Casey tore her gaze from an interesting looking spear engraved with intriguing carvings and looked up at Sean. He had climbed the few steps that led to a glass wall overlooking a mix of operating room and laboratory and gestured with his head for her to follow him.

Quickly joining him, they both looked down and into the room. It was occupied by many people who, from their appearance, were scientists. There were guards, eight in total, guarding all four doors. Screens hung on the walls and desks carried computers and strange gadgets.

The only thing that got Casey’s complete attention was the table in the middle of the room and especially what was on it.

“Doctor Bracket.”

Casey looked away from the creature and at the man who had spoken to her.

“Would you like to meet the Predator?”

Yes, that’s exactly what she wanted.

Still processing what she had just seen, she followed Sean Keyes into the decontamination chamber. She was giving a suit that looked similar to the ones the scientists were wearing in the laboratory. The decontamination process didn't take long and she quickly slipped into the suit.

“Thanks for coming.” The dark-skinned man, Will Traeger, said to Casey as soon as the lab door opened and shook her hand. “I’m sure you have questions.”

“If I’m honest, only two.” Casey answered and followed the man down the stairs. “Why do you call it the Predator?”

They came to a halt in front of the table the creature was lying on.

“It’s a nickname. You know, the data suggests that it tracks its prey, exploits weakness. It seems to, well, enjoy it. It’s like a game.”

“That’s not a Predator. That’s a sports hunter.”

“Sorry?”

“A Predator kills its prey to survive. I mean, what you’re describing is more like a bass fisherman.” Casey simply answered, taking a step closer to the table.

“Well, we took a vote. Predator sounds cooler, right?” Will laughed and received approval from the surrounding scientists. “We found him, then his ship and more. He’s heavily sedated.”

She noticed that even unconscious, he was making a sound that closely resembled a cat's purring.

Casey had long stopped listening to him. She was completely absorbed by the creature, or Predator, taking in every inch of it. The physique indicated that it was a male. His height had to be around 7 feet. He had greenish skin that resembled reptilian-like scales. Its head was big and oval in shape. Instead of hair, what appeared to be dreadlocks grew out of it. His mandibles were the most eye-catching feature about him.

Could they be used for defense? And how did the food intake work?

“You are one beautiful motherfucker.” She finally said.

“I’m gonna guess your second question is why you’re here.”

Casey looked up to Will and signaled him with a nod to continue.

“Our test results yielded something a little… odd.”

Sean, standing next to Casey, handed her a device. She looked back and forth between the two men before accepting it. The screen showed a more complex DNA structure than that of a human, without a doubt that of the Predator.

“Is this a joke?” She questioned in disbelief.

“We ran the genome sequence ten times. This specimen has–“

“–human DNA.” Casey finished stunned.

“Yeah.” Will nodded, “Look, we know about spontaneous speciation. Mostly plants and insects but–“

“But some mammals. The Red Wolf, for example, a hybrid of the coyote and the grey wolf.” Sean interrupted him this time.

“It’s possibly some form of recombinant technology.” Will added.

“I get it. You want to know if someone fucked an alien.” Casey summed it up, finally knowing her purpose here.

“Not necessarily.”

Casey looked questioningly at Will. "Meaning?"

“Meaning, we have a rough idea. We would just like to know the detailed procedure.”

Casey's eyes widened and she looked at him in bewilderment. “You don't seriously expect a woman to procreate with that thing. There's no way that–“

“Oh, there is no need for that.” Sean assured her, “His equipment led us to his ship. We found it, but not only that.” He turned to the largest screen in the room and nodded to a man who started typing on his computer and turned the screen on. It showed some kind of interrogation room.

It wasn't long before Casey spotted a woman sitting cross-legged on the floor, slowly rocking back and forth.

“Are you trying to tell me that this is…”

“His mother, yes.” Will confirmed her thought. “His DNA matches with hers. Even through the father’s genetic heritage is more dominant than hers, you can still see differences between this one–“ He nodded to unconscious alien, “–and a homozygous Predator.”

“Wow indeed. And not only that, her human DNA has been altered to resemble that of the Predator.”

“Wow.” Casey mumbled and returned her gaze to the screen.

The woman now walked in circles through the room, stroking — and the biologist had to do a double take — her growing stomach.

Holy hell, she was pregnant!

Casey watched her mouth moving, so either she was singing or talking to the baby.

“We believe it’s a kind of adaptation to the living conditions of his home planet.” Sean started, “According to the blood tests, and we did several because we didn't want to believe the results, this woman is 73 years old, although she looks to be in her mid-20s.”

Casey’s mouth fell open, her heart pounding against her rib cage. “I want to meet her.”

He nodded and smiled at her. “That was the plan. No one has spoken to her yet, not even the nurse who brought her food or was taking her to the bathroom.”

“While science can answer many questions and give us great insight into our being, there are still things that remain unanswered.” Will added, "We don't know when she left Earth or how it was possible for her to reproduce with an alien. We don't know how her DNA changed, and because of that, we don't even know who she is.”

Casey nodded. “And you want me to get the answers to those questions from her?”

“Indeed.”

Casey was watching you through the one-way window. You were still pacing, one hand supporting your back and the other stroking your stomach in a circular motion. Even though you seemed nervous and scared, you also looked like a proud lioness ready to attack to protect her baby.

“Ready?” Sean asked.

Casey looked briefly at him and nodded.

“Great. We will wait here to watch and listen. In her condition I doubt she will attempt anything for the sake of her child, but if she does it will only take a second and security will rush the room.”

“Good to know.” She mumbled before heading to the door.

With a deep breath, she pushed down the door handle.

You caught that movement in the corner of your eye and turned to the intruder. “What have you done to him?!” You immediately demanded hysterically, growling at her like a wild animal. “Where did you take him? Where did you take my son?”

It was good that Casey was the first to speak to you. Probably no one out there had the slightest decency to treat you like a real person and would have strapped you to a table, too, careless of harm to you or your child.

“They took him to a lab and are holding him there. Nobody hurt him, I swear it.” Casey said, raising her hands to show you she meant no harm. “They just want to know more about him and his kind and why he is here, that’s all.”

You stared at her, softly caressing your belly as you pondered her words.

When there was no reply, Casey continued, “I just want to talk to you. We want to know how you… why you…”

“Why I got knocked up by an alien?” You suggested bluntly.

Casey nodded. “Yes. It’s practically unthinkable to come across an alien hybrid and its mother.”

“Where I went after his father took me from Earth, it’s more of a rarity than unthinkable.”

Casey took a step forward and hastily asked, “Do you mean you're not the only one? Are there other humans who procreate with them? Are they also studying hybrids and their traits?”

You laughed at her eagerness and walked over to the chair closest to you, sitting down on it. You waved your hand at Casey to do the same, as if you were hinting you were going to cooperate to answer her questions. The biologist glanced back over her shoulder at the reflective window where Sean and Will were watching the conversation. She sat down in the chair opposite of you and looked at you expectantly.

“Before I say another word, I want to see that my son is okay.” You demanded, trying to suppress the tremor in your voice, the very first sign of weakness.

Casey turned back to the windows and waited for someone to come through the door. Instead, the reflective surfaces of the windows turned into screens showing one and the same image — the captured Predator, still tied to the table and asleep.

There was a whimper coming from behind her. When she turned back, she saw tears building up in your eyes and one hand pressed to your mouth. It was surreal to Casey for a human having such an emotional reaction for an alien creature. On the other hand, this was his mother, unbelievable and absurd as it may seem.

You seemed to calm down, your eyes still fixed on the screen. You nodded to yourself before tearing your eyes away to look at Casey. The windows had returned to its normal state.

“We’re going to start with some easy questions, okay?”

You nodded again.

“Great. First I would like to know your name.”

“(Y/N) (L/N).” You answered.

“Would it be okay if I call you (Y/N)?”

“I would appreciate it.” You said, “It's a nice change from all the other names I've gotten so far.”

“What do you mean?” Casey inquired.

“Alien fucker. Alien whore. Desperate little bitch who thought a man’s dick isn’t enough for her. Nothing I didn't expect from men.” You shrugged, “It just proves once again that Yautja males treat their females with far more respect and honor than a human male could ever comprehend.”

“Yautja?” Casey asked, leaning forward, arms crossed on the tabletop.

“You call them Predator, but their kind is actually called Yautja.” You explained.

Casey nodded and started to play with her fingers, her next question burning on her tongue. “How did you get into this whole thing? How did you get in contact with them?”

You huffed. “It’s quite ironic, you know. On the contrary what you may have expected, he saved me.”

“Saved you from what?”

“Again, men. Three of them. They had cornered me, kept groping me, pulled on my clothes…” You had to pause for a second.

Almost 50 years ago, you had been afraid when Mi'ytiar had taken you from Earth to bring you to Yautja Prime. But looking back, that fear hadn't been as great as what you felt at the thought of what those men would have done to you if he hadn't intervened.

“He protected me from those monsters… my own kind.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Yautja take their prey as a trophy after each successful hunt. Not only did he rip their heads off and their spines out, he also took me. I expected him to hurt me, to keep me as a slave, or... or to do what these men wanted to do to me. I found out later that I was really lucky that he, of all other Yautja, rescued me. It's incredibly rare that one of them takes an interest in a human being. Usually, they kill every last of them. Humans are too weak and too soft, but that’s exactly what he loves about me. That’s why he kept me alive.”

You let out sigh, considering how much you should reveal about the Yautja culture.

“On the contrary to me, a Yautja female is rough and large, even larger than a male. After all, they are the ones who carry their offspring and ensure the survival of their kind. The males have to fight for dominance and if the male wins, the female deems him worthy enough for mating and submits.”

Casey shifted in her seat. “Did you… Did he expect the same from you? Did he force you into submission to…?”

“Never.” You growled protectively, “He never forced himself onto me. Never. He was more patient and understanding than all the human males I ever met in my life. He treated me like I was the most precious thing he has ever seen. Never did he touch me without my permission.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Casey soothed you.

She had to be more careful and had to see this whole situation through your eyes — you were separated from your son and held at a facility who was examining you both while you had to worry about your unborn baby.

“Do you want to tell me about your relationship with him? Your, uhm…”

“He is my mate. My Life Mate.”

“Life Mate?”

“Female Yautja can mate with multiple males and give birth to their children, but some also choose a permanent mate. You could compare it to one-night-stands and marriage, only you can't divorce. It's not called Life Mate for nothing. You are bonded to each other for the rest of your life and they live for hundreds of years.”

“Can I know the name of your Life Mate?”

You eyed Casey briefly, looked over her shoulder at the reflective windows then at the camera in the corner and then back at her. “His name is Mi'ytiar. He is the leader of his clan.”

Casey sat up straight. “They live in clans? Like wolves in packs or horses in herds?”

You nodded. “With similar hierarchy dynamics, yes. There are many clans on their home planet, each living peacefully on their own. Sometimes clans visit each other, hunt together, celebrate together. That's how I found out that I'm not the only human on this planet.” You said, “But apparently I’m the only one who mated a clan leader. Most of them are expected to have a strong successor to take after them and Mi'ytiar, of all Yautja, chose a weak little human to bear his pups.”

Jackpot, Casey thought.

She finally got to the part that intrigued her the most — how was it humanly possible that you got pregnant, how was it possible for you to carry the child of an alien, and how did it not kill you?

“Since Mi'ytiar has fully committed himself to me, it was up to me to bear his offspring. The Yautja of his clan never dared to say anything. I’m the clan leader's mate, after all. But I noticed it in the way they treated me and looked at me. They knew it wasn’t possible for me to carry his children.” You looked down at your baby bump and returned to caress it. It seemed to keep you calm.

“At that point, that fact made me really upset. I got to know their culture, learned everything there was to know about them. I even started learning their language. I fulfill any task assigned to a clan leader's mate. I make my mate happy and proud. But I couldn’t give him a child.”

You looked up and into Casey’s eyes.

“Mi'ytiar is very attentive and he soon noticed that something was upsetting me. Apparently he was the only one who hadn't thought about his offspring at all.” You paused for a second to smile, remembering his reaction when he found out that you wanted to carry his pups. “The second he knew he wanted to keep me around when he took me away from Earth, he injected me with his blood. No matter how many times I've been called fragile and puny, the human immune system can sometimes work wonders. His blood had slowed down my aging and allowed me to survive on his planet. So we visited a healer to finalize my life as his Life Mate.”

Your cheeks flushed as you thought of how Mi'ytiar hadn't hesitated another second to make sure you got pregnant. You had spent several days in your bed, or nest as he called it, and there had been hardly a moment when he wasn't inside you. The thought of his beautiful mate, his love, carrying his pup in her belly had made him feral.

It hadn't been long before his seed took. The other Yautja had a satisfied reaction when they saw that their leader was about to become a father. Also, they finally treated you like a part of the clan. You had fully proved yourself, proved you could provide for the clan. You were finally one of them.

Akail's birth was hard. It felt like he was tearing you apart from the inside out. But thanks to the injections of his blood and the additional help of the tribal healer, your body strengthened enough that you didn't die, even though it felt like it. You were crying and smiling, with your mate at your side, holding your little bundle of joy in your arms.

He looked just like his father, no indication that his mother was human. However, his animalistic features were a little softer, difficult to recognize unless you were the mother. While you are being tended to, Mi'ytiar took his son in his arms to proudly introduce him to his clan.

Fondly, you thought back to one moment, a core memory — Mi'ytiar, lying on his side with you snuggled against him, both naked and partly covered in fur, and little Akail, just ten hours old, resting on your chest. At that point you were so incredibly happy.

It sounded weird and absurd that this was your life and no human would understand, but you would never trade it for anything.

“What’s the catch?” Casey asked after a while of watching you quietly stroking your belly.

“Huh?” You looked up.

“I don't think you're telling us all this without an ulterior motive. So what’s the catch?”

“I want to quench your thirst for scientific knowledge and in return, I hope you will release me and my son. There is no need to keep us here.”

Casey started to rock back and forth in her chair. “I don’t think that will be possible. There are still things that we–“

“Listen, I have cooperated in the hope we will be released when all your questions are answered. You won’t like what will happen if we are not soon to be freed.”

Casey glanced over her shoulder for what felt like the hundredth time, unsure of what to do or what to say.

“I promised him to contact him every day, you know. My mate.” You said, pride permeating your body. “And do you know what it will tell him? The silence?” Your question was obviously rhetorical. “It will tell him that something happened to me and therefore also to his son, because Akail would rather die fighting for his mother and Mi'ytiar knows that.”

Casey gulped. The threat was clear as the day.

“He will come and not alone. Do you really think you stand a chance against them?” You laughed, now more confident. “The human nature is arrogant, thinking they are superior to everyone. Eventually that will be the reason for your extinction. Your haughty stupidity will be the death of you.”

“(Y/N)–” Casey tried, but she was interrupted.

“No, you will listen to me just like you've been doing for half an hour now. I have lived among them for decades. I learned from them, I’m one of them. Stand between a Yautja and their Life Mate and it will end deadly for you. Stand between a Yautja and their Life Mate who’s pregnant and I promise you, you will beg for them to kill you.”

“(Y/N), there is nothing in my power to help you. I was simply asked here as an expert to examine this Yautja… your son. I can’t–”

“You will. And I'm not just talking to you in this case.” Your eyes wandered from her face to the windows and nodded to the people you assumed to be standing behind the glass, watching you. “I’m talking to them, the ones who have the power. Set me and my son free and I promise you nothing will happen to any of you.”

Suddenly, a blaring alarm sounded, startling both Casey and you.

Instinctively, you wrapped an arm around your stomach in a protective manner.

“Code Red. Subject Predator is on the loose.”

A shuddering sigh of relief left your lips as you slowly began to smile. You knew they couldn’t keep Akail immobilized for long.

One of the things he had in common with his father was that he was just as protective over you as he was. He would come to look for you.

Casey had already jumped out of her chair and was talking frantically to the people on the other side of the one-sided window.

You began to talk to your pup again, “Your mei'hswei is coming, sweetling. Soon the three of us will be back with daddy.”

continue with the second part He Is Here.

#predator #predator x reader #predator x you #yautja x reader #yautja x you #yautja x human

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wynnyfryd · 5 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 36

part 1 | part 35 | ao3

cw: hot girl shit

Steve practically yanks Eddie off stage the second the show ends. Eddie stumbles into their cheering group with a happy, startled oof, and Robin squeals, “You were so good!!” and amidst the circle of people pressing in to give Eddie a congratulatory group hug, Steve hooks a thumb over his shoulder and lies his fucking ass off.

“They said you need to move your van.” He points to the nearest employee he can pin this on and starts dragging Eddie from the fray, saying, “It’s parked in a fire zone.”

“Oh, no shit? Uh- okay.” Eddie’s breathless and fluttery from the excitement of the show, hands trembling a little as he pats his pockets down to find his key. Steve tugs him by the wrist and leads him out the side door — a dirty, dark brick alley, the walls soot-soaked and dim.

The street lights barely reach down the snow-covered path behind the dumpster, and when Steve’s sure they’re in a secluded enough spot, he slams into Eddie with a full body hug, arms wrapped tight around his middle.

“What the fuck?” Eddie laughs.

“You’re so hot,” Steve mumbles into the fabric of Eddie’s shirt. His face is pressed against his chest, hot and damp from exertion, and he breathes deep; hugs him harder. Splays his palms over his ribs just to feel how they move when he breathes.

Eddie’s arms come around his shoulders, a sly smile in his voice like he’s got Steve all figured out. “There wasn’t shit wrong with my parking job, was there?”

Steve looks up from his hiding spot and shakes his head no.

“Oh, you’re fucking cute,” he smirks. He shuffles them around until Steve’s back hits the wall, and he brings his hands up to either side of Steve’s head. Bracketing him. Caging him in.

Steve licks his lips; loses the rhythm of his breath. The moon’s a crescent overhead, obscured by heavy clouds, and it’s dark and it’s cold and undeniably nighttime, but Eddie’s eyes are shining — the first rays of dawn through the edge of the deep woods.

“Is it morning yet?” Steve whispers.

“Yeah, baby,” Eddie says.

He tilts his head and leans in, lips hovering close enough for Steve to taste him, but he doesn’t kiss him yet. “You had something you wanted to ask me?”

“Eddie, please,” Steve breathes in the dwindling space between their mouths.

Eddie presses in harder; sets their hips flush, cocks brushing through their jeans. “Please what, sweet thing?”

“Please kiss me.”

Eddie groans and devours him, the brick rough against Steve’s back as Eddie licks over his mouth. Steve whimpers and lets him in, lets their tongue meet in the middle, and it’s hot and rough and perfect; breaths fogging up between them, kisses wet and messy and deep. Their bodies smash together like two colliding stars, heat and destruction and pressure and—

“Let me- let me-” Steve pants, pushing back against Eddie’s hold. Eddie stays close, gives him just enough space to adjust where his clothes are riding up and his skin is scraping against the brick, and then he sways back in, hips lining up, cocks hard between them. They moan at the same time, and Eddie kisses him deep, kisses him wet, hard enough that Steve’s teeth carve indents into the inside of his lips.

When he finally pulls back, he takes Steve’s bottom lip with him; lets it go with a soft pop, and Steve’s blood burns inside him. Begs to be let out, to boil with filthy friction, to birth a new universe.

“Fuck me,” he pleads softly, leaning in for another kiss. Greedy for more: for Eddie’s tongue down his throat, for his hand down his briefs, everything wet and warm and wanting.

Eddie moves just out of reach; cat and mouse and he’s the cat. “Yeah?” he teases, moving his mouth to Steve’s good ear. “You sure, baby? Right here? Right now?”

His hand slides between Steve’s legs, cupping him through tight denim, toying with the zipper. “You want me to take these off? Fuck you right here in the alley where anyone could see?”

“Oh, fuck.” Steve’s head knocks against the wall, his throat convulsing as desire floods him, because he wants he wants he wants. Wants to make commotion; wants to cause a scene where anyone could see. Where Nancy could see.

“Yeah,” he pants, writhing against Eddie’s hand. “Want it. Want whatever you’ll give me.”

Eddie surges forward again; kisses him like he couldn’t wait anymore — licking hot into his mouth and behind his teeth, choking him on his tongue — and Steve bucks up into it and moans into his mouth. He doesn’t need oxygen. He doesn’t need anything but this, right here, for the rest of his life until his fucking lungs give out.

The door to the alley creaks open just a crack.

They both turn to look, wide-eyed and panicked as they pull apart, and when the door shuts again without anyone stepping through it, they look back at each other and burst out into laughter. High, hysterical peels of it; giddy and nervous at having almost gotten caught.

“Shit,” Eddie snickers into the crook of Steve’s neck. “That was- that was—”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, breathless as he rests his hands loosely on Eddie’s lower back, willing himself to calm down before he gets himself in trouble. “Think the idea of getting caught is way hotter than the reality.”

“Goddamn was the idea hot, though,” Eddie says. “Jesus.”

He adjusts himself in his jeans and moves to Steve’s side, leaning his shoulder against the wall. “Can’t believe you let me rough you up behind a dumpster.” He’s smirking, but there’s a twinge of concern beneath it, a tightness around his eyes as he brings a hand up to Steve’s jaw. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Steve smiles. “I’m great, actually.”

Means it, is the crazy thing, despite the cold and the scratches on the tender skin of his back.

He gives Eddie a reassuring nudge. “Sorry I took six days to ask you to kiss me.”

“Thank you,” Eddie huffs. “I was going fucking crazy over here.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he admits. His pretty cheeks go pink. “Pretty sure I drove Jeff nuts all break. But hey, at least now I can tell him Operation Woo Your Man was a success.”

Oh, my god. “Robin told you about that?”

“…Yeah?” Eddie gives him a cute, confused look. “I mean, it was her idea. Wait, did she tell you about it?”

“Uh.”

“Aw, son of a bitch!” Eddie kicks a crushed can down the alley. “Damn it, Buckley, the song was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Hold on; hold on.” Steve pushes off the wall, has to pace a bit, because, “Operation Woo Your Man was my thing. I’m supposed to be wooing you.”

“Oh, baby, I’m wooed,” Eddie licks his teeth, and Steve would find it charming except-

“No. Dude.” Oh, that conniving little— “I think she played us. Like- like I think she called both of us to—”

“Oh, holy shit,” Eddie barks a laugh, hopping in a tight circle and clapping his hands as he catches on to what Steve’s saying. “Wow. You think she’d want to join a Hellfire campaign some time? That’s goddamn diabolical.”

He’s smiling so big, and his teeth are chattering a bit from the cold, and Steve drags him in by a belt loop; wraps him up in a warm hug. “I’m sure I could get her to,” he says softly. “She owes me one for this.”

“Oh, yeah?” They’re about to kiss again.

“Yeah.”

“Hey, dinguses!!!” the diabolical woman herself shouts down the alley as she throws open the side door with a heavy, metallic clang. “It does not take this long to move a vehicle! How much longer do I have to guard this door?”

Steve hollers “fuck off, Robbie” at the same time that Eddie answers “five to seven business days!” and they fall against each other laughing, Eddie’s shoulders shaking as he giggles into Steve’s chest.

“Seriously!” Robin hisses, risking a peek around the edge of the dumpster. “Wrap it up, you two; I’m cold.”

Steve gives Eddie one last peck and leads them back inside.

—

part 37

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #my writing #my fic

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ghouljams · 27 days

Note

thinking about how johnny asks moon to be his wife as soon as they meet 😭

i just wanna know so bad how would the guys react if their lil crush actually agreed

like soap asks moon for her hand in marriage and shes just like ok sure

actual marriage or does soap just go straight to dating status instead

You give that man an inch and he'll take a mile.

Soap spots you for the second time in as many weeks across the bar. The only decent pub near campus, and thus the only place he and the 141 scurry off to. Apparently the only place you know to hide out as well. He feels a little guilty abandoning his mates, but they'll understand. (Understand that he's pining and you're smart enough to know better) Again you don't even look up when he takes the seat next to you.

"Tennessee," He greets, tapping the bar for a pint. You glance at him with a sigh.

"Doctor," You correct, and he can't help the smile that takes over his face. You're just so pretty, sweet little accent and round vowels making him want to pinch you.

"Mrs. Mactavish," He offers instead. You roll your eyes and sip your drink. Not beer this time, it's a short glass with neat amber liquid tipping against the side. "Whiskey?"

"Bourbon," You mumble.

"You'd get on with Ghost, couple of good ol' boys," Soap mutters, giving a half hearted sniff at the offending liquid. You smile against the rim of your glass, your teeth catching the edge in a way that Soap can't help but find charming. It's like you're trying to hide that he could have any affect on you.

"Maybe I should be talking to him instead," You set your glass down, glancing around the bar. Something in Soap's chest burns, his ears hot as he settles a hand on your knee and leans close to catch your eye.

"Ah saw ya first," He tips his head, watching the way you lean back to avoid bumping him, pretty thing, pretty pretty thing, "Ah dinnae ken if ah could give ya up."

You hum, pluck his hand off your knee and set it on the bar. Those few seconds of holding your hand leave him wanting, every spare molecule of your touch buzzing when you let him go. "I'm not interested in dating coworkers," You tell him firmly.

"Was thinkin' of somethin' closer to marriage actually."

You laugh, a mirthful sound that makes Soap want to shiver. Oh you stupid pretty thing, you don't believe him do you? "That's funny, you're funny," You signal for the bartender to refill your glass. Soap raises his fingers to double it.

"What's funny about it?" He leans against the bar, crowding you in to your seat, forcing you to keep your attention on him.

"You wantin' to marry me." Your voice raises ever so slightly at the end, question as much as statement. He wonders if you believe your own doubts, or if you're just that used to shooting people down. Soap tips his head, and you mirror the motion, your fingers grip your glass and bring the recently refilled amber to your lips. Soap traces the path of your tongue over your lips, the way you catch each drop of bourbon without so much as a flinch, his eyes trained on the motion with reverence.

"You want me to get on one knee?" He offers. You shake your head with a roll of your eyes, back to sipping your drink and ignoring him. It almost gives him an idea. "How many of those are you havin' tonight?" He nods at your glass as you settle it on the bar.

It takes a lot to get you drunk, a fact you're particularly proud of, but that also means once you're there it takes very little to start making terrible decisions.

Your head is pounding when you wake up. You ignore that the sheets feel funny in favor of rubbing your fingers against your eyes. A quick wince when you bump something metal makes you draw your hand away to inspect the ring on your finger. A diamond bracketed by two rubies. Gold. You don't wear gold.

"What the fuck?" You mumble, trying to piece together the gap of memory you have in your night. Johnny pops his head into the bedroom and gives you a smile. You narrow your eyes at him, trying to manage anger around the splitting headache. You sit up, or attempt to, as he saunters into the room, and just as quickly grab the sheets to pull them back up over your bare chest.

"Please tell me we didn't fuck," You grit, closing your eyes against the sunshine he draws into the room.

"Course not," Johnny's fingers find your jaw, tipping your head back, "wouldnae take advantage of ya like tha'." You keep your eyes shut tight even as relief courses through you. God you can't think of anything worse than sleeping with your coworker before the semester has even started. "Did get married though," Johnny fills in, giving you a peck of a kiss before pulling away, "be careful with the ring, yeah? Family heirloom an' all that."

Ok. One thing worse than sleeping with your coworker before the semester has started.

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #john mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap x reader #professor au #oc: moon

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killerrobot-killingmatch · 3 months

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Backup Bracket 2, Attack 1

Propaganda Under Cut

Cupcake:

evil little shit mauls people. cant wait for a reaon to kill. it Clearly loves the taste of blood.

Bloodmoon: More

Bloodmoon was literally programmed and created with the urge to kill. He has this insatiable bloodlust, and it never seems to be sated. He hurts people for fun, he enjoys tormenting others, and he's actually wiped out an entire town. He's killed an entire daycare’s worth of kids, and he kills indiscriminately. Doesn't matter if it's the elderly, men, women, children, the rich, or the homeless; if they cross his path, they're dead.

#poll time #backup bracket #cupcake #fnaf #fnaf cupcake #fnaf movie #five nights at freddys #bloodmoon #tsams #tsams bloodmoon #the sun and moon show

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competition-list · 1 year

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Hello there, welcome.

Due to Tumblr adding polls, lots of people decided to make tournaments where characters face each other to get the title of "bestest *insert topic here*", and since I want an easy way to keep track of all of them, I decided to make this list to help myself and everyone else who sees it.

There are even some categories:

ONGOING: competitions that are happening at the moment are listed here

TAKING REQUESTS: the ones in here are taking requests of who should participate

SOON TO BEGIN: these ones have decided the participants and will soon share the brackets and start

FINISHED: the ones that already have a winner are here

Now let's see the proper list:

ONGOING:

@nonbiney-swag-competition

@bisexual-monarch-tournament

@littlestmeowmeow

@vanillaextractextreme

@weirdgirlshowdown

@ultimatehistorical

@besttship

@tarotmemes

@sexy-orhotobjectcontestgikinka

@homestuck-best-girl-tournament

@lesbianswagcompetition

@worstcharacterpoll

@2023himbotournament

@transgenderswagcompetition

@goldenapplebracket

@adhdswagcompetition

@autismswagsummit

@transfemswagbracket

@magnificent-mlm-matchup

@transmascswagbracket

@yuribracket

@finalgirl-showdown

@dissociationswagcompetition

@aroace-awsomeness-arena

@best-fnaf-character

@polyamorous-swag-competition

TAKING REQUESTS:

@ultimatefnaf-favoritecompetition

@mahougender

@hottest-slasher-competition

SOON TO BEGIN:

@the-best-fictional-turtle

@mirror--moon

@bluehairpronounsbracket

@adhd-swag-competition

@bisexualswagcompetition

@aroaceswagcompetition

@gaybadguys

@swaglesscompetition

@twinshowdown

@pathetic-babygirl-showdown

@vocaloid-song-showdown

FINISHED:

@sexymanotd

@lutzlig

@handwrittenhello

@arocharactershowdown

@sexyladyotd

@niigosongpolls

@bestgenshincharacter

@randaness

@mcytblrsexymen

@fireworkss-exe

If you want to get in or out the list just tell me.

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autisticgirliesbracket · 1 year

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Autistic Girlies Bracket!

It is a sad truth that autism barely sees representation in media. Even if it does, the character presented on-screen is usually a young boy DESPITE the fact that your gender does not effect your likelihood to have been born autistic.

Which is why this bracket strives to highlight all the canon autistic and autistic-coded girlies out there in media!! And then pit them against each other to prove who is the girlie of all time <3

Another bracket by the host of @adhdvsautismbracket

Inspired by my fellow awesome Tumblr pollers including (but not limited to): @weirdgirlshowdown @insanepoll @artificialkids-2k23-official @sapphiccharacterstournament @beefy-babe-showdown @disabilityshowdown @adhdswagcompetition @pruechaosbracket @goldenretrieverguybracket

Submissions are CLOSED.

Rules:

Do not submit real people/actors/YouTubers/ect. (this includes VTubers and MCYT roleplay)

You can submit multiple characters, but no not submit the same character multiple times.

Please use the form to submit one character at a time (for the sake of organisation and my sanity). Characters submitted via the ask box will not be counted.

Characters do not need to be 'canon' to submit them. This competition will mostly be about autistic-coded characters because canon rep is so rare.

Characters do need to be a girl/woman/girl-aligned to submit them. I probably won't be too strict with this rule and if you're unsure please feel free to send me an ask.

One character per piece of media will be allowed into the competition.

Don't be ableist.

Any questions, feel free to direct these to my inbox!

Under the cut are some characters that are automatically accepted into the initial bracket because I think they deserve to be there, but feel free to give these girlies extra nominations anyway:

Webby Vanderquack from Ducktales 2017

Norma Khan from Dead End Paranormal Park

Delmin from Show by Rock!! Mashumairesh

Wolf from Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts

Percival "Percy" King from Epithet Erased

Lunella Lafayette from Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur

Sucrose from Genshin Impact

Twyla Boogeyman from Monster High (G3)

#autistic girlies bracket #polls #tumblr polls #tumblr bracket #tournament #bracket #tumblr tournament #autism swag #autistic women #autistic headcanon

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weeb-polls-with-pip · 5 months

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Autistic Anime Boys Tournament Bracket

Heeey guys! It’s finally time for our next tournament! Get ready to pit all your favorite autistic anime* boys against one another~ 😈😈😈 The same rules as the autistic anime girls poll apply here, but I will reiterate them below.

*Note: I understand that the term ‘anime’ does not, semantically, apply to every character that I will allow into the poll—I am simply using the term in a general manner, because it is quick to say and widely recognized. Characters from print media (i.e. manga, manhwa, manhua), ‘anime-style’ webcomics and games/visual novels, and from non-Japanese East Asian animation like donghua and hanguk aeni are welcome as well.

No western media, unless the characters are deliberately designed in an 'anime-style’ (ex: in the past, I have allowed characters from things like DDLC). It can't be a temporary or one-off gag style-change either. It must be the series' regular artstyle. Judging this will be my subjective opinion, but I am going to be excluding animation that stylistically toes the line (sorry AtLA and VLD fans).

Don't submit Shigeo Kageyama from Mob Psycho 100. His autism swag is too powerful and iconic, so I've decided he will be the mascot of this tourney. The winner of the poll will be rewarded with a special exhibition match against Mob. 👍👍

The characters do not need to be canonically autistic. Headcanons are perfectly fine.

You can submit as many characters as you like, but do not submit the same character multiple times.

Submit characters through the designated Google form. Any sent through asks/messages/any other means will be ignored and you’ll be kindly redirected to the form. Just keeps things more organized this way.

Don't be a dick if your fav loses. Please. Let's all be civil here and have a good time. Doing tumblr polls is entirely for fun!

Definitely send propaganda for the contestants! I love hearing people infodump about their favs.

This time around, I will not make submitting propaganda a requirement on the form, but it does significantly increase your character’s chances of getting into the bracket.

I will attempt to be more selective for this poll, to avoid an enormous bracket like last time (I just have a tendency to get attached to submissions and can’t help but let in as many as I can 😅), but I won’t officially decide on the number of competitors until after submissions close.

Good luck! May the best boy win!

SUBMISSIONS OPEN NOV. 28TH – JAN. 2ND

Tagging other poll blogs below the cut.

@ultimate-anime-tournament @pinkhairswagtourney @canonmisogynyvictimstournament @gayelderstourney @generic-anime-boy-bracket @fuckablemeowmeowbattle @moon-swag-tourney @animemusicbrackets @best-transgender-character @bisexualdivorceebattle @irritable-bowel-showdown @gentle-giant-swag @transandautisticswagcompetition @transgenderswagincartoons @victimsofyaoipoll @tummy-troubles-tourney @chuunibyou-showdown @ocd-character-polls @tournament-winners-tournament @found-family-tournament @christ-figure-bracket @headachebattle @rock-swag-tournament @bestshipsmackdown @queerprotagonistshowdown @titular-twins-tournament @character-of-all-time @white-boy-bracket @ultimate-poll-tournament @autismswagsummit @transgenderautisticbracket @fuckable-old-man-battle @beefy-babe-showdown @cringefaillosersummit @homoerotic-shonen-rival-showdown @autisticgirliesbracket @emoboybattle @miku-figures-tournament @best-book-siblings @toxicoldmenyaoi @serialadoptersbracket @actually-insane-blorbo-bracket @gaslightgatekeepgirlbosscombat @characterswithgodsnamesbattle @most-tragic-character-tournament @toxicyuribracket @big-brother-battle-bracket @toxic-yaoi-tournament @gayest-classiclit @foreheadfaceoff @annoyingblondebracket @badass-queer-couples-battle @yuribracket @blond-jerk-tourney

#tumblr polls #autistic anime boys poll #tumblr competition #tumblr tournament #tumblr bracket #anime #information #fyi #submission post #rules #guidelines

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autisticswagbracket · 10 months

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AUTISM SWAG CHARACTER BRACKET!

Submit all your autistic blorbos so we can see who has the most autism swag of them all!

Submissions are: closed

Currently going through submissions to make the bracket

For archiving reasons, the rest of this post (submission rules) will remain unchanged under the read more

Submission rules:

1. They must be fictional, so no real people. I'll accept live action media.

2. No OCs (sorry)

3. No fandoms are excluded by default, but I do reserve the right to reject anything that makes me uncomfortable.

4. The character can be canonically autistic or a headcanon

5. Characters with a lot of submissions are more likely to get in but if your description is convincing you could get your character in even if you're the only submission

Submissions close on July 25th

No definitive bracket size! Please reblog so we can get as many characters as possible in!

Disclaimer just in case: this isn't a poll to see what character has "the most autism" because there is no such thing, but to see which one has more swag due to it

Edit: To clarify, swag in this tournament means:

" possessing general 'coolness' and/or being unapologetically 'cringe' "

Just in case:

Other cool tournaments (inspiration for this bracket): @meanpurplepoll @hot-take-tournament @transgenderswagcompetition @obscuredilfoff @moon-swag-tourney @generic-anime-boy-bracket

#tumblr polls #autism #bracket #tournament poll #about the tournament

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sexiestpodcastcharacter · 7 months

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Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 2

Propaganda

Ver'million "Millie" Blue (Friends at the Table: PARTIZAN):

Mech pilot with a body horror mode and a thematic dog motif. She’s trans in a culture that does gender way different than contemporary human genders, and she’s sexy about it. Escaped a military super soldier cloning program to join a revolutionary organization. Kind of a fish person (pls look up art of her, it’s all excellent). Dreams of settling down into a peaceful life and is so so so wife to me

She's a canonical goth trans woman with sick teal hair and scales and she's an alien who's vaguely fishlike and she's a sniper and an absolute shit kicker she's literally SO sexy

ok so i did just submit Pickman bc she won my tournament but i gotta say, Milli is my personal pick for sexiest f@tt character! she's goth! she could kill me! but she won't! she just wants to be away from the war! she's breaking out of the worldview she's been conditioned in to since infancy! her mech is called the stray dog! and after the campaign ends she goes around recruiting so many people that they recognizably start getting called the stray dogs! she's so excited to have literally any participation in governing! she spends a while going around the moon to install a communications system and gets to learn what its like when you approach people in a way that isn't immediately antagonistic! SHE DECLARED A GOOD HER RIVAL! she got SO close to getting out but then her sense of duty to others pulled her back in (im not actually sure if that last one is hot exactly but it SURE is compelling). AND SHE'S A FISH WHO REJECTED THE GENDER SYSTEM SHE GREW UP IN FOR ONE NOT DESIGNED TO FURTHER WARFARE!

The entire blog @fuckyeahvermillionblue.

Mercedes Oak-Garcia (Dungeons & Daddies):

MILF of the Year

#Round 2 #Ver'Million Blue #Millie Blue #Mercedes Oak-Garcia #Mercedes Oak Garcia #Friends at the Table #PARTIZAN #Dungeons & Daddies #Dungeons and Daddies

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best-bud-bracket · 4 months

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Lots of characters have their iconic sidekick, or the friend that’s supported them no matter what. While they may get outshined by their more popular counterpart, they are loved here! Submit your sidekicks and watch them fight in this all out smackdown!!!

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Who is eligible for this bracket?

Any character that is a sidekick, best friend, or even assistant to a ‘bigger’ or ‘more important’ character. These characters are often overshadowed by the other character, either in their media, or in their fandom. This ‘bigger’ character does not have to be the main character, nor do they have to be a hero or a good person in the story.

Character examples:

For those who may be confused, here are some examples of characters that would be eligible for this bracket. (Feel free to submit them if you were planning on it!)

Tails - sidekick/best friend of Sonic (Sonic)

Fink - bodyguard of Professor Venomous (OKKO)

Okuyasu Nijimura - best friend of Josuke Higashikata (Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure)

Foggy Nelson - best friend/voice of reason of Matt Murdock (Daredevil)

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General Rules

You do not have to put other’s characters down to put yours up!!

No real people- this bracket is looking for fictional characters. Characters portrayed by real people are welcome of course! Just no celebrities / influencers for this one.

Not completely sure if your character fits the theme? Submit them anyway! If they don’t fit, there’s no harm done.

Submission Rules

Character’s name, the character they are connected to, what their role is (friend, sidekick, etc.), the media they are from. A picture is appreciated, but not necessary.

Submitting propaganda along with the character is encouraged (but not necessary.) Tell us why you think your character should win!

Submitting a maximum of 1-2 characters is suggested, though I literally cannot stop you from submitting more.

Submissions are OPEN!

Submit in the ask box

Inspiration + other cool bracket / poll / gimmick blogs;

@couldtheysurvivethestandarrow @who-do-i-know-this-man @your-old-sins-tournament @havetheyeatenpizza @haveyouseenthismovie-poll @haveyouwatchedthisshow-poll @haveyoureadthisbook-poll @moon-swag-tourney @annoyingblondebracket @most-hated-blorbo-bracket @favoritepokemontournament @foundfamilyadoptionagency @tragicsibsshowdown @ultimate-good-dog

#gimmick blog #tumblr bracket #bracket tournament #poll bracket #character bracket #best bud bracket #not a poll

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littlemisspascal · 1 year

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Getting Lost is Being Found

pairing: joel x female reader

rating: M. 18+ only.

word count: 5.4k

summary:

When you finally brought yourself to open your mouth, it wasn’t a question that came out. It was a fact, simple and blunt. “You’re one of them.”

“I am,” he replied, the sun still emblazoning him in radiant light. Almost made it hurt to look at him. “But I never wanted to be a human again until I saw you.”

warnings: black dog/hellhound au with hints of a bigger plot that I'm too tired to dive into. reader is referenced as smaller + younger than Joel. alpha/omega dynamics. slices of life. time jumps. non-descriptive smut. fast burn/love at first sight. biting. blood. rough handling. language. non-major character death(s). thunderstorms. reference of reader's parents. nudity. sneaking in a CoD reference cuz why not

note: Trying to remember how to write for the fun of it. This is the result *awkwardly throws out into the universe*

You stand on your bedroom’s balcony, concrete tiles cold beneath your bare feet. Your eyes look towards the horizon, fingers tightening around the wrought iron railing.

A storm brews. The sun is swiftly retreating behind the distant hills, leaving the city dark and cold in its wake. Electricity taints the air, the hair on the back of your neck prickling -

And then you hear it, harmonizing with the thunder’s rumblings, the ghastly howls of the Black Dogs chasing down the scent of their prey.

ii.

Nightspyre, for all its blackouts and seediness, isn’t the worst place to call home. Not when you’re collared and marked by an Alpha, not when your Alpha has stared Death in the eye and made Her flinch. Not when retaliation for every spilt drop of innocent blood emerges each sundown in the guise of hulking shadows and gleaming red eyes.

The collar had been your request. An old-fashioned tradition dating back centuries, replaced in recent years by sharper, more permanent means of securing a mate. Your mother, rest her soul, had treated her collar as her most prized possession every moment of her short life. Red velvet with a gold tag inscribed with your father’s name. Gone are the days Omegas gathered and gossiped over the patterns and colors adorning their necks. Bitemarks are the present trend, judged and compared by the size, placement, and number of teeth.

They’re advertised as the ultimate display of devotion. A lifelong promise between an Alpha and their chosen mate. A claim warning off others from sniffing too closely. Simply put: a marked Omega is a loved Omega.

But you learned the hard way when people saw your mark, they didn't see love. They saw something cruel. Something monstrous.

Only when you began wearing a collar you'd fallen in love with after seeing it in the window of a thrift store, adorned with faint golden moons and stars, did the concerned looks and judgmental whispers gradually stop. Convinced them maybe your Alpha wasn't so heartless as they initially believed.

After all, everyone knows monsters don't know how to be gentle. It goes against their very nature. Everything they touch dies an agonizing death.

iii.

“Do you think it’s possible? To know someone your whole life and also know nothing about them at all?” you ask, fingertips tracing the jagged edges of the bite beneath the curve of your collarbone. It’s a hideous thing made in a frenzied moment of raw need, consequentially stained your favorite sheets irredeemably scarlet.

Your Alpha looks up from where he’d been dragging his tongue over the knob of your hip bone, replying, “Of course.” He moves to hover over you, bracketing your head with his arms, fogging your senses with his distinct scent of petrichor and woodsmoke. “As long as lies exist, no one’s ever truly known. Just pieces of ‘em.”

“Pieces, huh?” You touch his face now, thumb lifting his upper lip in the semblance of a snarl, revealing a glimpse of too-sharp teeth. “I wouldn’t mind collecting more of yours, Jo–”

A warning nip to your hand, blood hot under the surface. “Careful what you wish for.”

iv.

Lightning bathes the living room in a flash of white. Outside the city is wet and dismal, but here, inside, it’s flickering candlelight, and your Alpha is pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, body more shadow than flesh, and you close your eyes, allowing yourself a moment to pretend the hand on your cheek has fingers instead of claws.

Three years ago you first saw Joel during one of the worst storms in Nightspyre’s long history. You’d been new to the city after finishing your degree and securing a job there, still a rookie navigator of its maze of cobblestone streets and alleyways. The weather was a fickle tormentor, you quickly learned, swapping between dry heat and violent downpour seemingly at whim. You’d entered a restaurant for a late supper in cloudless twilight, and exited an hour later to bone-chilling rain hurtling down from a pitch black sky. And it had been a miserable discovery for you to make whilst shivering beneath the front entry of an abandoned church, paint-chipped with boarded up windows, that absolutely nothing looked familiar in the rain. For all you knew, you’d tripped and stumbled into a completely different world.

A lightning bolt streaked across the sky, your eyes following its descent from the heavens, and that was when you first saw it. A black dog prowling amongst the faded and cracked tombstones, tail unnaturally stiff, seeming completely indifferent to the pouring rain—and ‘dog’ seemed like an insulting descriptive at the time, too small and domestic for the behemoth canine, but calling it a wolf didn’t settle right with you either. It was…it was…

It was staring right at you now, crimson eyes cutting across the distance and the darkness like searchlights. You froze, heart lodged in your throat, and it was such a bizarre thing, to be in the presence of something as simultaneously terrifying as it was so eerily beautiful. And the longer you stared, the more convinced you became that this was no ordinary creature. There was a dreamlike quality to its appearance, blurry around the edges, like it could change shapes at any second.

Fuck, maybe you had tripped into a completely different world.

Another bolt of lightning bathed the cemetery yard in white light, the dog’s figure caught in the flash. Its black fur was thick around its neck, adding further bulk to its already broad body, and completely dry all over despite the puddle forming at its paws. You heard the uptick of your rampant heartbeat. Instinct screamed at you to run, but something else made you stay. A conviction you both were meant to share this moment together.

And it scared you how much that belief didn’t scare you.

Darkness swallowed the light again, taking the red eyes with it. You remember how you’d stood there until the clouds changed from black to gray, rain losing some of its vicious sting upon striking your skin, and you’d returned home in a numbed state of exhaustion and confusion. In the days that followed, you didn’t get sick from the incident, not even so much as a sniffle, adding another layer of oddness to the whole ordeal. And that dog…you couldn’t shake it from your mind.

You wanted to know more about it. Any and every last scrap of detail you could find.

vi.

Welcome back! Your recent internet searches:

black dog breeds

massive black dogs with red eyes

black dog folklore

hellhounds

People also searched for:

fairy hounds

perro negro

okuri-inu

the hound of the baskervilles

dogs in folklore, religion and mythology

vii.

“You realize how ridiculous you sound, right?” Abe told you, wiping at his glasses with a cloth, a nervous twitch in his fingers. “The Black Dogs are a silly legend to scare children. Anyone who says they’re real is selling something.”

“I’ll tell Professor Ratna you said that,” you replied with a smirk.

Your quest for answers revealed everyone had an opinion one way or the other on the topic of massive red-eyed, dark-furred canines. Most thought they were myths limited to the boundaries of their pages in books or the online web. A few though, spoke in hushed murmurs, casting around wary glances, as if afraid of accidentally summoning one from the depths of the earth. Others talked with booming voices and gesticulating hands, telling you everything you wanted to hear like they’d been waiting for this conversation their whole lives.

One homeless drunkard who dwelled in the alleyway next to 57th Street Tavern explained through slurred words, “I’ve seen ‘em, twice I have. They’re big brutes, shaking the ground when they walk. But–but they leave nothing behind. No tracks. Scary fuckers, they are. And they know it–they feast off fear, then they feast on flesh.”

You asked him how he’d lived through the close encounters unscathed and he shrugged off the question. “I ain’t never hurt nobody. The folks they hunt down, they’re already going to hell. The Dogs just bring ‘em there faster.”

You’d visited Professor Ratna next, catching the older woman in-between classes during her lunch break. She’d politely entertained your inquiry rather than outright scoff at it as the rest of the university faculty had done. “My specialty is mycology, not folklore, so I am no expert on the subject,” she said, taking a sip of tea. “That being said, I’d urge you to be cautious if you’re going to continue going around asking these questions. Few things happen in this city the Dogs don’t know about.”

“Makes it sound like they’re keeping the city hostage.”

She set down her teacup and looked you straight in the eye. “No, my dear. They are what keeps the city safe.”

You had left her office even more unsure of your own convictions than you’d felt when you arrived.

“Well, if you’re ever unlucky enough to come across one, run the other way as fast as you can,” Abe said, hesitantly looking up to meet your gaze. “Don’t even think about trying to pet it.”

The thought honestly hadn’t crossed your mind until then. It sounded like the quickest surefire way to lose a hand, perhaps even the whole limb. But if you had taken the chance at the church, you couldn’t help but what would the pelt have felt like –

Thick, dense fur like other canines? Or deceptively smooth and oily like a serpent’s scales?

(The answer, as it turns out, is a curious mix of both.)

viii.

The next day, a man knocked on your front door. He was tall, body thick with muscle and marked with smatterings of freckles and–oh. Your gaze stopped on his abdomen, refusing to dip any lower as realization turned your brain to mush.

He wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing. Nude as the day he was born.

He wasn’t saying anything either, brown eyes sweeping over your face like he was trying to memorize every detail. In another setting, preferably one without nakedness, perhaps over a candlelit dinner, you would have been flattered by the attention but as it was –

Pressing closer against the safety of the door, you took a tentative sniff of the air. His Alpha scent knocked into you like a tidal wave, barely stifling a reflexive whine in your throat. He smelled like thunderstorms, electric and pungent, like wet grass and ozone all blended together. And something else beneath the surface, something distinctly fiery. Smoky. God, you wanted to drown in that scent.

But first things first –

“What the hell are you doing here?”

The Alpha’s nostrils flared, followed by a low rumble from the depths of his chest that had your grip on the door tightening to keep you from doing something embarrassing (shamelessly flinging yourself at him came to mind). “I followed your scent. Mint and vanilla.” Another inhale, deeper this time, eyes darkening. “Sassafras.”

His voice was hoarse, grating. Sounded like he hadn’t used it in months, maybe even years.

Your thoughts deserted you again, leaving you to dumbly stare at him for a moment. “Um.”

You’d dated a couple Alphas in the past, nothing that ever developed seriously and that was mostly due to the fact they all didn’t like your scent. Scent-compatibility was an essential factor when it came to bonding–after all, you’d be smelling that scent for the rest of your lives together so it was better to be a pleasing one. One described it as boring, another said it was too clean. Whatever that meant.

But this Alpha—this strange, heavenly-smelling, unfairly attractive man liked your scent enough he followed it all the way to your front door.

“I–uh,” you blinked once, twice, slowly rebooting your brain, “what was your name again?”

The question had a curious effect on the man, emotions rippling across his face, one after the other, looking lost, but only for an instant, before he swallowed thickly, throat bobbing in a distracting manner.

“It’s Joel.” The corner of his mouth dipped. “I think.”

“You think?” you echoed, eyebrows raising. Who didn’t know their own name?

He lapsed back into silence, but there was a defensive edge to it that wasn’t there before.

You exhaled a quiet breath and gave him a scrutinizing look, gaze dragging all the way from his head to his dirty bare feet and back up again without pausing on any…intimate areas. You wished you could peel back his layers, cut straight through the weird aura and iron defenses and find out what was there at his center that he’d hidden away.

It must be something incredibly precious, you thought.

Or something shockingly hideous.

“Tell me, Joel,” you crossed your arms to hide your trembling hands, “have we met before?”

The Alpha tilted his head, midafternoon sunlight turning the dark of his eyes into liquid gold. He swallowed again, then quietly admitted, “Once. A couple nights ago…”

You found yourself leaning closer. He didn’t move away. You could almost taste the rain, the howling wind, the thunderclaps, the lightning, everything wild clinging to his skin.

“Are you–” You cut yourself off, glancing away. You worried your bottom lip for a moment, hesitant to release the words burning on your tongue, scared of their potentially devastating influence.

“You’ve been asking an awful lot of questions around town, Sass,” Joel said, soft as a caress. “Haven’t you figured it out by now?”

And that – well, that just about confirmed every last suspicion you had.

When you finally brought yourself to open your mouth, it wasn’t a question that came out. It was a fact, simple and blunt. “You’re one of them.”

“I am,” he replied, the sun still emblazoning him in radiant light. Almost made it hurt to look at him. “But I never wanted to be a human again until I saw you.”

ix.

“Any regrets, Sass?” Joel asks in the midnight hours.

“Hmm?” You curl closer, ear pressed against the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

“If you’d known it’d be like this,” he whispers into your hair. “Would you have run away if you had the chance?”

“Maybe,” you say, and you feel more than see the sudden tension roll through his body, shielding himself from the hurt. “But I would’ve found my way back sooner or later. I’d miss you too much.”

Joel says nothing, doesn’t have to. The way he presses you into the mattress, moves inside you, against you, with roaming hands and searing kisses, becoming one — speaks volumes more than words could ever convey.

The south side of Nightspyre is a haven for smugglers and thugs, consisting of multiple rows of derelict warehouses and an understaffed police presence, half concealed in the smog produced by the factory district. The streets are sticky with unknown substances beneath your shoes, each breath burning the inside of your nose.

“Gets prettier every time I visit,” Tess says wryly, standing next to you and looking at a spray-painted dick on the side of a dumpster.

You shoot your friend an amused look. Her brown hair’s half-up in a bun, she’s tough as nails, and carries at least four concealed weapons on her person at any given point. Female Alphas aren’t a common sight in the city, but Tess’ intimidating presence fends off the inappropriate comments, striking fear into the hearts of even the biggest Alphas with one icy glare. She’s the perfect ally to have by your side.

“Let’s just grab Joel and get out of here.” You pick up the pace. Your eyes note the different colored ribbons hanging from the overhead telephone wires. Each represents an illegal activity, whether it be gambling or drugs. If one knows their code, these ribbons act as a map of the district.

Tess holds a hand up, stopping at a crossroads. You watch as she looks to the left, center, and right, then up at the ribbons–red, orange, and black respectively. The code regularly changes depending on the month or weather or local events, memorized by those who frequently visit the area, but there is one warning that will never be made different.

“Beware the path marked by the ribbon dyed black,” you recite quietly. “For if you follow it, you’ll surely become the next meal of the pack.”

“Sure you don’t wanna grab a drink instead?” Tess asks, jerking a thumb in the direction of the orange ribbon.

You say nothing, adjusting the shoulder strap of your bag, and turn right – trusting that your friend will follow close behind, watching your back as she always has since you first met.

xi.

It's a wonder that there's enough of the body left to investigate, you think, crouching behind a car that smells overwhelming of weed and watching a group of men in police uniforms toss around ideas about who or what killed the dismembered and burnt corpse.

Deaths like this, they're how the myth of the Black Dogs continues to circulate and gain credence amongst the locals. The police, on the other hand, refuse to acknowledge them or the black ribbons pointing the way. They'll claim any other excuse under the sun - rabid wildlife, homicidal rage fueled by drugs or alcohol, deranged serial killers, hell even lightning strikes - but to openly admit beasts of folklore are responsible for the high fatality rate? Not a fucking chance.

They've tried setting traps a few times, reassuring folks they'll catch whatever savage thing is responsible for making the streets run red with blood. "Don't worry," they always say. "We have everything under control."

It’s you who should be worried, you want to retort, images flickering through your mind of sharpened teeth and paws the size of tires. Only a fool attempts to catch a hurricane in a glass jar.

xii.

It’s another forty-five minutes before you find him.

You slide down a steep slope of dead grass, fresh mud from last night’s storm painting the sides of your pants, seeping into your shoes, almost dragging you face-first into the brown sludge of Pickett’s River if not for Tess’ fast reflexes. Eyes on the culvert pipe, you grit your teeth, remind yourself why you’re here, and step forward into the mess of sewage and soil and rainwater. Disgust is immediate, soaked above your knees, but you force yourself to take another step and another and another until you reach the large, ebony mass lying at the culvert’s gaping mouth, black mist emanating from his heaving flank.

“There you are,” you murmur, dropping to your knees near the muzzy outline of his head. Triangular ears twitch before they are concealed in a haze of shadow again. Your heart sinks, forcing a bit of levity into your tone. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this, yeah? Our backyard is a helluva lot nicer than this shithole.”

“I’ll build a doghouse for him myself if it’ll save me from getting dragged outta bed at this ungodly hour,” Tess offers from somewhere behind you.

She’s smart enough to stay back, especially when the sound of her voice has eyes snapping open in a blaze of red, immediately narrowing into smoldering slits, lips curling back from bloodstained teeth, snarling in challenge.

“None of that,” you scold, followed by a bop against his nose with your finger. He stills, some of the feral luster clearing from his eyes. His body remains primed to fight, muscles coiled, lingering side effects from last night’s hunt. “It’s over. It’s a new day.” A hot breath of air wafts over your face, flooding your nostrils with a concoction of coppery blood, damp earth, and sulfur. “Fucking hell, that’s awful. You, Alpha mine, need a toothbrush. No, scratch that, you need to gargle bleach to get that nastiness out of your mouth. Ugh.”

Joel shoves his head forward, rumbling a deep, guttural note as his wet nose pressed against the vulnerable tendon of your throat, a hint of teeth grazing your pulse. If not for the bitemark under your shirt and the history of early mornings identical to this one spanning across the course of your relationship, perhaps you might have screamed or fainted in fright. Given the circumstances though, you merely tilt your head back further, allowing him to drink his fill of your scent until he remembers.

He had explained once, his human memories were like sand in this form, his mind an hourglass torn between two lives. Your scent triggers the reset, tipping everything right side up again, memories falling back into place until the next hunt steals them back again.

You know when it clicks because Joel’s breath hitches, a violent shudder rippling along his spine. It’s always agonizing, watching him transform, listening to the grinding and splintering of bones and sinew realigning themselves. The cloud of obsidian mist begins to lighten, the once ambiguous outline of a colossal beast slowly, so painstakingly slowly merging into a man – naked, trembling from the aftershocks, clinging to consciousness by his own stubborn will.

Brown eyes meet yours, blood smeared across his mouth and beard. “Sass,” he says, a dry rasp sending a wave of warmth all the way down to your frozen and wet toes. “Aren’t you getting tired of coming after me yet?”

“Nah,” you shake your head, smiling. “I think it’s good for our relationship. Keeps things interesting.”

He snorts. “Interesting. Sure, that’s a word for it. How many times’ it been this week? Two, three?”

“Four,” Tess chimes in, punctuated by a pair of jeans striking Joel square in the face.

“Mornin’ Tess,” is the low, sheepish response from your Alpha. He pulls the pants off his head, hair ruffled every which way. “Didn’t see you there. Is that a new haircut? It’s nice. Suits you.”

Your friend hums, unimpressed. She used to think you were cute together, that the twang of his accent was amusing, but after eight months of accompanying you in retrieving his naked ass from various sordid and revolting sites around Nightspyre she’s become immune to his charms.

You pull out a shirt and shoes from your own bag. “We’ve gotta get a move on. Police already think you’re strange. Don’t need to give ‘em another reason to dislike you.”

“Four hunts in one week,” Joel mutters under his breath as he begins dressing, a disturbed look in his eye, and you hear what he isn’t saying, unspoken words weighing heavily upon your chest like individual stones.

Four more damned souls.

xiii.

Sometimes you can’t find him the morning after a hunt, losing him amongst the creeping shadows, and you’re forced to wait, anxious and helpless, until there’s another storm, another hunt, another death to reunite with him.

Those times, the house feels too empty and your bitemark aches something fierce, a brand seared against your skin. Nightmares plague your sleep until your sheets are a tangle of sweat and tears. The cloudless blue skies and starry nights are further personal insults, mocking your heartache.

xiv.

It’s a tricky concept to wrap your head around, the idea that Joel had once been a human decades, perhaps centuries ago. Time isn’t something Black Dogs keep track of and Nightspyre’s historical archives are in the city hall’s basement which floods every other rainfall. He’s older than you, that’s something you can confidently say. Less confidently you can guesstimate he was probably in his late thirties when he was turned.

Your first year together you tried to piece together his story, pestering him with whatever question crossed your mind. Were you born here? What were your parents like? Any siblings? Hobbies? Your attempts proved mostly unrewarding though - his memories of that life are few and flimsy, giving him a headache if he thinks about them too long - and by now you’ve learned he prefers to make new memories than dwell in the past.

The day he knocked on your door becomes his birthday. He turns forty and who gives a fuck if it’s accurate or not, certainly not either of you. You celebrate with cake and ice cream topped with hot fudge.

“My mother used to make cake like this,” Joel says after swallowing a bite. You look at him, your own spoon hovering in front of your mouth, ice cream threatening to melt, but his eyes are glossed over, lost in a memory, and you can’t bring yourself to move, scared of disrupting the moment. “She added chocolate chips in it. Made it sweeter. She’d let me lick the batter from the spoon.”

An image of a young Joel forms unbiddenly in your mind. You can imagine him hovering at his mother’s side, waiting patiently as she scoops and pours and mixes the ingredients, how wide he’d grin when he finally got his prize, smearing chocolatey goodness across his mouth.

“Your ice cream’s melting,” Joel’s voice yanks you back to the present.

You blink a few times, reconciling the child in your head with the Alpha in front of you, then look down at your spoon where, sure enough, the ice cream’s more of a liquid than a solid, blending with the cake and fudge in a gooey swirl. You stick it in your mouth, not really tasting, not really thinking except -

Next year you’ll remember to buy chocolate chips.

xv.

A horde of ominously gray clouds accumulates on the horizon, blotting out the sun. Standing together on the balcony, Joel drapes himself over your backside, chin on your shoulder, both your gazes locked ahead.

“Death is becoming greedy,” you say, mouth coated in bitter venom. You don’t care if She overhears, so long as you carry his mark you’re untouchable. Not even Her powers can disentwine your souls. Where one goes, the other will follow - and she needs Joel too much at the moment to let him go just yet.

“It’s not Her. There’s something else poisoning the city, rotting it from the inside out…” Joel trails off, interrupted by the first drizzling drops of rain, the distant clap of thunder summoning his alternate form to the surface. His fingers flex against your waist, forcibly swallowing down the growl building in his chest with an audible gulp.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

You don’t say tomorrow morning. Not anymore. It’s too specific, too painful when it doesn’t come true.

“See you in the morning,” he echoes, and gently turns your head, sealing the vow with a kiss. It’s chaste, sweet, foreheads coming to rest against each other, savoring the moment even as the rain pelts your skin and clothes. “Go on, get inside and get warmed up. And no matter what you hear—”

“Don’t go outdoors,” you finish, pressing one last kiss against his jaw.

xvi.

Joel starts to age again. It’s a slow, gradual process for his body to remember what it means to be human. He still heals unnaturally fast, still answers Death’s call whenever there’s a soul to collect, but -

There are flecks of gray peppered in his beard. Along his temples. They turn silver when the light hits them just right. Never once does he make an effort to shave them off or dye them.

He needs glasses when he reads. It shouldn’t be possible yet somehow the dark frames make him look even hotter, especially late at night when they’re perched on the brim of his nose as those perfect lips silently mouth along with the words of whatever genre-of-the-week has snagged his attention.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” you ask abruptly one morning. Joel’s in the middle of peeling oranges, making an attempt at adding more fruit to both your diets, and the kitchen air is oversaturated with citrus. “Dying?”

His hands pause, pensive lines creasing his forehead. It’s a sign he’s thinking hard about his answer, giving it the necessary time to form and develop. You wait, perched on the kitchen stool, pushing your toes against the floor to keep your leg from bouncing anxiously.

“I already died once, remember? This,” he says, gesturing towards his gray hairs and then at the house as a whole. “This isn’t dying, Sass. Not for me.”

You lean forward with your arms upon the counter. “What is it for you then?”

He looks at you for a long second, soft and fond, and smiles. “This is me finally living.”

xvii.

Loving Joel is easy, you learn. As natural as waking up with the morning sun, as necessary as drawing breath into the depths of your lungs. You don’t believe much in fate or destiny, but there are moments where he looks at you, like he can’t believe you’re the one who's real, and it feels like it’s always supposed to have been you and him.

“Of all the churches in all the world,” you quietly laugh under your breath one night, head resting on his stomach.

His hand stills in the middle of stroking a warm line down your spine. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” you shift just enough to press a kiss against his sternum, smiling to yourself at the hitch of his breath. “Just thinking how lucky I am.”

Joel’s hand continues its movements again, but this time when it goes back up it carries on past your shoulder, pads of his fingers dipping into the teeth indentation marks there.

And you know he’s thinking the same.

xviii.

Joel’s sliding home inside of you, all scorching heat and possessive growls, face buried against your neck. You wrap your arms tighter around his shoulders, nails cutting scratches deep into his skin, drawing blood. They’ll be gone before he’s done with you. Damn healing factor, a blessing and a curse.

“I want to be like you,” you murmur carelessly against the hinge of his jaw, mouthing a kiss that’s more tongue than lips.

“No,” Joel grunts, and then he’s moving back, pulling out of you. You whine, a pathetic and desperate high-pitched plea of an Omega trying to appease her Alpha, to call him back to fill the emptiness threatening to devour you alive. He ignores it, grabbing at your face with a large hand, forcing you to look at him, really look and fuck, you’ve never seen him like this before.

That emotion in his eyes, dark and gleaming and intense – it’s fear.

“You don’t want to be like me, Sass. You can never be like me,” Joel says, and he doesn’t even try to mask the tremble in his voice. “I won’t allow it.”

You reach a hand up, purposefully slow and obvious in its approach, and curl your fingers around his wrist. He loosens his hold instantly, exhaling a ragged, shuddering breath like you’ve stabbed him.

“Okay,” you say, and that’s all.

His face is wet when it buries against your neck again.

xix.

There’s a secluded house on the city outskirts, an unextraordinary two-story dwelling with a yellow front door and a stepping stone pathway, known to its pair of inhabitants simply as home.

Most mornings you can be found in the front yard, humming a song from your youth while painting your next masterpiece. Joel will sit in the shade on the porch steps, coffee in hand, watching you watching the world. There are plans to build a greenhouse in the back, another hideaway to retreat to when the world feels just a bit too large. A bit too bloody.

xx.

“It’s going to hurt,” Joel warned you, six months after you’d first met, peppering kisses against your shoulder.

For as many strides as Nightspyre’s made keeping up with modern law changes and customs, out here amongst the untamable hills and freak electrical storms people remained convinced the best and safest life for an Omega was at an Alpha’s side.

Unclaimed Omegas didn’t last long in Nightspyre. If an Omega didn’t find a mate themselves, then one was found for them. Didn't matter if they didn't like each other, if their scents didn't match. Having an Alpha mate was an Omega's golden ticket to a better life - or, at the very least, a larger cage where the bars weren’t so easily seen.

“Not from you,” you panted, tilting your head to grant him more access. He was still an enigma to you, so many layers left to unwrap, but you knew there was no one else in the world you wanted more as your mate than him. No one else made you feel the way he did. “It won’t hurt if it’s from you.”

His hands pinned your arms down, making you gasp, and then - then there were sharp teeth slicing through skin, biting, claiming, intertwining your lives together irreversibly.

You were his. And he was yours.

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