#◦ ` ･ writing : moon dust in your lungs ; stars in your eyes

[slutforslytherinx]

stress smokes

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: the rule-following perfect student snaps and resorts to a late night smoke session with the infamous mattheo riddle.

warnings: marijuana, stress, slight angst, and that’s it?? super fluffy ౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

a/n: this is my first time writing on this…. apologies if it’s bootyhole😞

the library was nearly empty, most students chatting in their common room with their friends. exams were still a moderate distance away, not near enough for the tables to be full of stressing teenagers.

you were one of the few there, tucked in the corner everyone knew was yours, hidden behind two bookshelves full of dust. the words had started blurring on the pages nearly an hour ago and your frustration nearing the point of a mental breakdown.

you re-read every sentence multiple times, yet your brain seemed as though it just couldn’t retain the information. angry tears swelled in your eyes and you slammed the book shut before any could drip onto the parchment pages.

this was bound to happen at some point. one person could only take so many books about lacewing flies and ashwinder eggs before they snapped. for the first time since you arrived at hogwarts 6 years ago, you were giving up.

your favorite professors always warned you to take care of yourself before you burnt out, yet you never listened. now you were screwed. aggressively shoving your belongings into your bag, you decided that you were going to be have fun tonight.

you were going to get your mind off of textbooks and study sessions, and do something you’d never done before. despite your irritation, you still gave madam pince a small smile and wave before exiting.

the moon was already high in the sky, stars appearing by its side, but you knew where he would be. you’d ran into him at this time on many occasions. with your bag clutched over your shoulder and a determined mind, you made your way up to the astronomy tower.

just as you expected, he was there. mattheo had a small joint dangling from his fingers, the end lit with small sparks of fire. you sat down next to him silently, and he lazily turned his head to look at you.

“hey princess, care to join?” you rolled your eyes at the pet name, snatching the roll out of his hands and inhaling swiftly. his eyes widened as he tried to steal it back from you. “what the hell?” he asked, finally pulling it from your grasp.

you exhaled the smoke into the air, coughing up a lung as you did. he watched you with an annoyed expression, waiting impatiently until you were done wheezing. once the coughs subsided, he flicked you. “ow! what’s your problem?”

he shrugged carelessly, “just making sure you’re real and not some weird hallucination.” you scoffed and turned your head to look back at the sky. he flicked you again, “okay, seriously? what the hell? what happened to ‘smoking is bad for you. your gonna get lung cancer and die.’” he mocked, raising his pitch to imitate a girly voice.

“stop flicking me!” you exclaimed, rubbing the skin of your arm tenderly. you tried to grab the joint again, but he pulled it back and raised his eyebrows in a way that communicated ‘you’re not getting anything until you explain whats going on.’

you sighed, rubbing your temples tiredly. he watched you the whole time, his confusion morphing to slight worry. “i just want to have fun. i want to stop thinking about stupid studying for one minute and be relaxed. i want to have a night where i think im worth more than academic success, so can you just help me out here?”

he stared at you with an unreadable expression, making you fidget the longer his gaze was on you. finally, he puffed out a breath of air, hesitatingly passing it to you. “thank you.” you muttered quietly, raising it to your lips. he stopped you before it met your mouth.

“don’t inhale a lot. you’ll start coughing again.” you glanced at him, nodding before following his instructions. true to his word, it worked, and you passed it back to him. you two sat in silence for a while, taking turns before it was gone.

the effects soon started to hit, making you let out a tiny laugh at the weird sensation. he looked at you with raised eyebrows, amused, as your tiny laugh developed into a full blown giggle attack. “if i didn’t know you’d never smoked before, i would now.” he murmured to himself. you chose to ignore that.

you soon stopped laughing, opting to stare at the moon instead. it was quiet once more, until you spoke up, almost too low for mattheo to catch. “thank you.” he nodded, and you turned to look at him.

“no, i mean thank you.” he tilted his head a little, bemused. “sometimes i feel like your the only person who doesn’t look at me like a walking cheat sheet. i like that. you’re real, you don’t just talk to me when you want something.” you grinned, not realizing the true depth of your own words.

he was quiet for a couple a long moment, his heart pounding faster in his chest for the oblivious girl next to him. “your a lot more amazing than people give you credit for.” your cheeks heated, and you looked to your knees timidly.

you and mattheo both had a feeling that you’d be seeing a lot more of eachother.

#mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #harry potter #slytherin boys #oneshot #blurb #mattheo riddle blurb #fanfic #fluff #light angst

[morallyinept]

Hello Jett!!

Popping in with a quick little fandom game. Which Pedro-boy do you think this is a picture of, and why?

love ya!!

Hey Lovely Patti! 🖤

So, this is totally Dieter. And it inspired me to write a lil' something, something...

I Carry Your Heart With Me 💙

650 words | Dieter Bravo x GN!Reader | Fluff ☁️

The door clips softly closed behind him as Dieter steps into the dimly lit apartment, the scent of familiarity enveloping him as he sniffs in deep.

After months of grueling, repetitive shoots in distant locales, he's finally home. Exhaustion clings to him like a second skin he wants to wash off and watch circle the drain, but a rabid spark of excitement ignites at the thought of seeing you again, and the emergence of urgency suffocates the need for a shower.

He tiptoes through the deep sapphire shadows of the lounge, careful not to disturb the tranquil ambiance that fills the space and dark corners. He heads up silently towards the bedroom, socks fluffy and static on the plush carpet.

Expecting you to be asleep at this ungodly hour as he pushes the ajar door fully open, but there you are, bathed in the rose gold glow of the bedside lamp, nestled against a mound of pillows - your eyes immersed in a book of poetry.

The sight of you, so serene and beautiful, steals the stale breath away from his lungs.

Without a word, Dieter approaches you, discarding layers like baggage drops in clumsy heaps on the floor until he's stripped bare; just flesh and silver metal. Nothing but a man and his loose sagging skin - and even looser morals - his beating heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and longing.

You look up, your eyes widening in surprise before breaking into a radiant smile that burns the retinas away in his eyes. In that moment, Dieter feels like he's finally home.

"Hey, you," you whisper, setting the book aside and reaching out to him.

"No, no. Keep reading. Read it to me." He says, climbing into bed beside you.

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you nod, settling back against the cradle of pillows. Dieter curls himself around you, soft belly on your hip, turgid cock on your thigh; resting his heavy head on your shoulder as you begin to read.

Your voice, a melody of warmth and tenderness, washes over him like a soothing balm, banishing the weariness that permeates his bones. He listens to the music of your words as you read a short poem from the book:

"...I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it (anywhere I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling)

I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant, and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)..."

A knot loosens in his chest. Each word you speak acts like a gentle sugar scrub, exfoliating away the dust of distant lands and the fatigue of countless hours on set.

With each breath, he feels lighter, as if the weight of the crushing world is slowly lifting from his broad, tan shoulders. The tension that once twisted his muscles begins to unravel, leaving him feeling unkinked and free.

In the delicate cadence of your succinct words, Dieter finds a soothing solace, a reminder of the love that binds you together like silk lilac ribbons, despite the miles that separate you at times.

Dieter hums softly; a small kiss inked on your skin, a smile drawing his lips up as he closes his eyes and loses himself as your voice fades into the quiet of the night.

Love you, Patti 🖤

The poem quoted is a real poem called "I carry your heart with me" by E.E. Cummings and is a fave of mine. 🥰

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x gn!reader #dieter bravo fluff #pedro pascal characters #jett's asks #jett's writing

[thepaintedlady00]

Here’s a thought I’ve had for a while, Sandman/ Stardust crossover but instead of the reader being a fallen star (like some of the others I’ve seen) it’s Morpheus and the reader is stuck falling in love with him while trying to protect him from Roderick (witch stand in). I really love your writing!

Okay but I literally love this! 😍😍😍 I love this so much if enough of y'all enjoy it I'll probably end up turning it into a mini-series 😂😅

You watched the star fall from the sky, holding the black candle in your hands and squeezing tightly. Guess it's now or never. You carefully lifted the flame to the wick and watched it burn with a bright and blinding light. Holding on tighter, you pressed your eyes closed. "Light the candle and think of me" You focused your mind, focusing on what your mothers voice might sound like... what she would look like, how good it would feel to finally meet her. Through your closed eyes you could see the light burn brighter and as it did the image of the shooting star popped back into your head.

The sensation that washed over you was one you somewhat recognized. It was a similar feeling as the one you'd gotten when Humphrey had tossed you into the lake, or when he and his group of idiots had shoved you to the ground so hard it felt like you'd been falling for hours. But this was... a hundred times stronger, you felt like what you'd always thought flying would feel like. And just as quickly as it'd begun it ended with a harsh crash and a loud groan that was not your own.

Breath finally filled your lungs again as your eyes began to come back into focus. Two bright stars stared up at you, glowing in the pale light of the moon and two hands, strong and cold, held you firmly by your waist as you shook your head and realized that there was a man beneath you. A very, very attractive man... and he did not seem happy. You froze, looking at him with wide eyes and a heating face. "Are you done gawking yet?" He demanded in a voice like silken night and edged blades.

"I'm sorry," you mumble as you scrambled to your feet and looked around at the high, melted walls of earth that surrounded you. "I don't know where... what..." This was a crater... but why would you be here? "Think of me and only me." The shooting star. Fuck. You ran your hands through your hair, tugging some of the pinned strands out of their place. "My god, I'm such an idiot!

The man ignored you, standing slowly and with a deep wince. "On that we both agree."

You sent him a glare. "Do you know where we are? I have to get..." Get where? You had no idea where that candle was taking you, and you'd never been outside of Wall before tonight. You were lost. More than lost, you were absolutely fucked.

"I do not know where we are," the man said as he stumbled forward a bit, looking up at the sky with a longing gaze. "Everything looks much different from down here." As he looked up, your eyes went lower to the necklace resting comfortable on his chest. It looked like nothing you'd ever seen before, bright and swirling with twinkling light and dust. The star. You remembered Humphrey telling everyone about his uncle, a man of great prestige and supposed magic. He'd said that fallen stars were valuable beyond belief, so valuable you could buy your way home... or even somewhere else.

You took a step forward and pointed. "I need that necklace."

He looked back down at you. "What?"

"Your necklace, it's the star that fell here and I need it."

The man laughed, though it was not genuine. "This is where the star fell. If you're looking for specifics though, this necklace was what knocked it out of it's home. It fell there," he pointed to the center of the crater. "And right here was where a flying moron knocked it to the ground."

Your eyes went wide. "I'm sorry I don't..."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You're not very bright, are you?"

"You're telling me that YOU are a fallen star?" You asked, nearly laughing at how ridiculous it sounded. "That's not possible."

"Humans," he grumbled. "The stupidest species on this planet and I of course get stuck with the dumbest of them."

This guy was an asshole. Star or not. "So you are the star?"

"Yes, that is what I've said, is it not?"

"Fine. Then you're coming with me," I stated putting my hands on my hips.

He laughed. "Oh am I?"

"Yes." I looked around and gestured to the crater. "This is a very deep crater, and judging by the way you're limping like a wounded dog, you're going to need my good legs to get you out. The least you can do for such a kindness is come with me so I can find my way..." Still you had no clue where. "My way to wherever I'm going."

The man looked at you again, and then up at the high crater walls. "Very well. But we part ways the instant you find your way."

"I want the necklace too."

"You are very demanding." He growled, frustration lacing his voice. "It struck me from out of the sky, I should be the one to keep the damn thing."

You didn't move. "I'm going to need to sell it to get where I'm going. So unless you're content stuck with me forever then..."

The man glared at me. "Fine, but you only get it when we're out of here."

"Deal." You stuck your hand out, only to have him coldly glare at it until you let it fall back to your side. "Okay... What's your name?"

"Morpheus."

"I'm-"

"I do not care."

"Wow. Okay, asshole, let's go."

*

Far across the land a man stood out on his balcony, looking out at the star falling from the sky with a smile. "Humphrey you useless twat get your things!"

"What for Uncle Roderick?" the boy asked, looking out as the star disappeared over the horizon with a blast of light.

"We're going hunting."

#the sandman x stardust crossover #dream is the star #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless x you #dream of the endless x y/n #morpheus x you #morpheus x reader #morpheus x y/n #sandman dream #dream the endless #king of dreams #dream of the endless #morpheus the sandman #morpheus dream #lord morpheus #morpheous #morpheus #morpheus fanfiction #morpheus fluff #morpheus headcanons #morpheus imagines #morpheus lord of dreams #morpheus sandman #morpheus imagine

[nelapanela94]

Hey Nelaa😁😁 Congrats on 1k followers🥰🥰🥰 you really deserve it and those which are to comee. I wish you the best

I'd like to request a fluffy drabble from nos- 24 and.. 9??( I forgot the number but it was- "Come here") I'm really sorry😭😭

For some reason- I'm always wearing a jacket and sweater because I'm just cold everyday so yes🥰😁

Ignore if you don't want to write it lol

Hey Anon!!! tysm <3 🥰🥰🥰

Let's warm ourselves with a cup of tea and a hug from Levi.

This is a fluffy one, so no warnings.

WC: 1k

“I’m cold.”

“Come here.”

Nela's 1k event

The sky is an ink pool littered with stars, the moon tapered into a playful smile.

The night softens you both with banter and wine. Furtive glances, secretive smiles, and stolen laughter. Levi tilts the bottle and pours more crimson in your mug. His eyes are black as an abyss you would jump into without a second thought.

“What’s your plan? To get me drunk?” You snort. You hug one knee to your chest as the other leg dangles over the ledge.

“Busted.” He sets the bottle aside and you bring the mug to your mouth, the fruity notes flooding your lungs.

“You look pretty, Levi.” Your lips curve against the rim as your eyes skim his features. His brows, the bridge of his nose, his dewy lips, the contour of his rosy cheeks, puffy by the alcohol.

“Wow, I see my schemes are working.” A chuckle rolls on his tongue, and you jab a finger on his chest.

“I’m just warning you; you’re not taking me to bed tonight.”

“Hey.” He yanks his palms in the air. “I’d settle for a kiss.”

What the fuck?

You should stop drinking before…

Scratching his temple, Levi cranes his head away, bees buzzing angrily under his cheeks, the booze draining away from his system. You look away too, sucking on your bottom lip, and fidgeting with your bracelet, trying to dust off the cloud of ethanol fogging your thoughts. Levi and you are just friends. Good friends. But no more than that. You remind yourself. And this conversation was pushing the boundaries shamelessly.

Maybe you want to push his and him to push yours.

No. That wouldn’t be ethic. You were recently promoted to squad leader after working under Levi’s command for months, and rumors crouch in every corner already, suggesting that the decision was influenced. You lever the scarf to your chin and jam your hands in your pockets, the nippy air is lashing your cheeks.

“Sorry about that.” His voice swerves into a curlicue of awkwardness. “I didn’t mean, I mean–“

“Forget about what I said.” You mumble, your cheek tucked on your knee. Embarrassment stirs in your chest, and you wish a lightning bolt strikes you right there and turns you into coal. But the night is cloudless.

The heart jumps blindly into the void, and the brain can’t catch it on time. So, everyone else suffers the collateral damages. It is jackhammering in your chest, trying to move the strings so you come closer to him. Yet you defy it. Even if it hurts worse than needles pricking under your nails.

“Thanks for the wine and the company, Levi. I’m going to bed.” You stifle a fake yawn on your palm and spin around on your butt, your feet landing on solid rock. He nods, but doesn’t dare look at you, his hands cling to the edge of the ledge until the blood drains from his knuckles.

“Good night,” he blurts tightly, as if coaxing those words scorched his throat. He’s always been good at fighting against his urges, why all of the sudden it feels wrong? Every inch of his body burns as he tries to contain himself from stopping you.

Oh, fuck he wants to kiss you.

And much more than kissing you.

Levi shakes his head, biting his lips as his heart crumbles. It’s hard to walk through life with such sensitive heart that amplifies everything. That’s why he switches it off, pretending to feel nothing.

The door squeals, and your light steps dwindle down the tower.

To the whisper of the night, Levi quaffs the rest of the wine on his own, hoping it will erase the pain. But his body doesn’t yield to the intoxicating effects, the best he gets is a fizzle through his veins. Cold starts to slash his face, and he pulls down the knitted cap to cover his ears. The bare branches rustle, scraping the night with their claws.

He decides is time to get inside.

Before skidding to his room, Levi darts down to the kitchen, the flickering torches embedded on the stony walls guiding him through the winding corridors. He finds the door open and skids in, the flames dancing in the hearth sputtering scraps of fire.

“I thought you were going to bed.” He clears his throat and puts the mugs in the sink. You scramble down from the counter and he catches your glassy eyes and tear-streaked face. You turn away from him, but it’s too late.

You are shivering, teeth clattering too, your arms holding your frame in a pathetic self hug.

“Hey.” A worried Levi swerves around the counter, and gulps, his trembling hand reaching out, hesitating. But you don’t peel away. Lazy strokes fondle your back, and you brush your tears away with your sleeve. “I’m cold.” You sniff. “My room was too cold.”

A feeble smile graces his lips. Levi shakes his jacket off and wraps it around your shoulders. You flinch and snap your face toward him, gaping, and he bites a chuckle, looping an arm around you, drawing you to his chest. “Come here.” He whispers. “You can keep it as long as you need.”

“But—“

He groans. “Do you want me to be an asshole and let you freeze?”

“Thank you.” You mutter, and your shoulders relax in his embrace. The wool is soft, impregnated with his scent, like spices and oak, so masculine, inebriating more than wine, and your body warms, though you can’t tell whether it’s the jacket or the blood surging excitedly through your veins, your hear bouncing in your chest merrily, a wave of joy creeping over you.

Levi holds you tight, his cheek nested on your hair so you can’t raise your head and see him blushing, he can feel the annoying tingles grazing his cheeks.

“better?” Fire dances on his eyes. He tries to control his breathing, but he’s certain you can feel the frenzy of his heart against your back. Why does it have to be so reckless and act on its own accord? He sighs and gives up.

You close your eyes and snuggle against his chest. “Much better.”

Nela's 1000 event

#levi ackerman #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #levi attack on titan #levi x you #levi x reader #levi aot #snk levi #Levi ackerman x oc #levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan levi

[comfort-questing]

yes I SAID I'd be writing my own aftermath fic for those scenes if the show didn't give it...

-

When he was a kid Stark had tried not to cry. But by this time everyone already knew he was weak; crying wouldn't make any difference now. And - as Linie's form crumbled to dust along with the mana-spun axe in her hands - there was no one left to see, or to know, here in the moonlight magic-ruined glade below the city walls.

His eyes were hazy and half-blinded by his lightning slash and the wound above one of them, his mouth full of dirt and blood, right arm numb to the fingertips and useless at his side. High above him on the walltops, the two magics that met against the moon's bright disc - one black as old blood, one shining as pure as the stars - exploded into light as Stark blinked upwards, ever-expanding coronas of brilliance.

He coughed, the acid taste in the back of his mouth redoubling as the pain in his stomach made him gag desperately. Not as heavy as his master's blows had been - but enough to coat the dirt in crimson beneath him, draining the last of his strength away with it. The night and the woods and the walltops and the moon were all spinning and tilting around him, unsteady as his cold and trembling body.

Fern had to be all right. Fern, and Frieren, and Graff who they'd left in the churchman's care. If all of them were all right, that was enough... enough to save this town, one way or another. Enough so that they would have done well, despite everything...

Master... would you be proud of me now?

This time, when his knees hit the ground, he told himself he could rest, because he had won.

(This time, he knew there was no way he was standing up again.)

-

There was hair tickling his face, and skin brushing against his, a whiff of soap and sweat and lightning-flash of mana, for a fleeting moment before it moved away. Trembling fingers found the hollow beneath his jaw, ignited sensation and with it pain, tracing out his pulse.

"Mr. Stark. Stark!"

He managed to open one eyelid, the other clotted shut with dried blood; just enough to see Fern, corpse-pale in the moonlight, white blouse stained darkly all along one shoulder and arm.

"Fern. Are you - "

He could barely hear his own voice, though shaping the words tugged painfully at his face. He tried to smile at her, though, because surely things would be all right now, whether he got to see them or not. She had won her own battle, Lugner's blood magic had marked her but she'd won. And Frieren... Frieren would be there, too, soon...

Everything was going dark again, his eye slipping closed. Dimly Fern's shouts echoed in his ringing ears, and the sound of approaching voices behind her, footsteps in the darkness.

"He's over here! We need to get him to the priest now, he's lost too much blood - "

Arms gathering him up, guards' metal armor chilly and hard beneath him, voices bouncing back and forth above his head. Pressure on his stomach, and his shoulder, and pain pain pain filling him as he gagged again, struggling by reflex.

"Hush, lad." The guard's voice was gentle, firm as the arms around him. "Stay with us a few moments more, now. You've done well tonight."

-

Stark woke slowly, to the tremble of firelight through his eyelids, and to breaths that went all the way down through his lungs with only a little pain, the comforting tightness of bandages steadying his aching shoulder. He could feel both of his arms again, and as stupidly tired as he was, the thrum and after-warmth of healing magic had lent him enough strength that he could think properly again as well.

...Yes. This was better. He could sleep for a week, easily, but he didn't feel like he was on the brink of death anymore.

"...need to rest for a while yourself, miss." That was the priest's quiet voice, somewhere across the room, closer to the firelight. "The Goddess kept you safe for certain tonight - half an inch higher on your shoulder, and you'd have bled out in a few heartbeats. Not that having a nicked lung is much better in the long term, but - "

"But Stark and I got here, anyway." Fern's voice was stronger now, and without the ragged desperation of earlier. "Thank you."

"Of course. Of course. This - has been one of the more exciting nights of my term here."

Stark opened his eyes in time to see Fern's rare smile dart across her face, where she sat across from the priest, the fire burning bright behind them on the hearth. There was the thin gray light of early dawn through the window beyond, and Graff's sleeping form under blankets in the cot beneath.

"Miss Frieren would say that when you invite demons into your town you shouldn't be surprised when things get exciting," said Fern.

"Ah. Yes. The elf. Where..."

Fern did not answer for a moment, her eyes going to the window instead.

"Fighting Aura," she said. "I think so, anyway. We should... look for her, soon."

"And I'll pray for her," said the priest. "And keep an infirmary bed open if she needs it, too, the way things are going so far."

Stark coughed as he tried to speak, but managed it the second time. "Frieren - isn't - back yet?"

"Stark! Stay still, you were hurt badly." Fern's hand hovered over his chest, a clear threat as he tried to get his elbows under him; how she'd gotten across the room that quickly, he wasn't quite sure. "No, she's not back yet, but she's all right, I know. Miss Frieren always is."

Truly Stark couldn't imagine anything in the land getting the jump on their eccentric little leader. After all, hadn't she been part of the group that destroyed the Demon King himself? But he'd feel better once he had his eyes on her, and their party was complete again.

"Fine," he said, falling back on the pillows. "Give me - a couple - minutes and we'll go."

-

It was more than a couple of minutes, but they did go.

That morning was a strange hazy time in Stark's memory, full of golden light and chilly mist, the jolting of the carriage wheels stirring the pain in his healing wounds into fresh jagged agony. Graff's set face across from them had something of the same look to it, his hand pressed to his own bandages under his coat. Fern sat bolt-upright with her face to the small window, the dawn riming her hair in brilliance.

Then the clearing, and the battlefield, with steel spellbound soldiers limp and scattered beneath the early sky; and a figure in white kneeling before them, with the birds kiting upwards on the rising wind above her.

And suddenly, his eyes were full of tears again, but of a different kind altogether, and oddly unashamed as he stumbled out of the carriage towards his new master, Fern at his side.

Now - now - everything was truly all right.

#sousou no frieren #frieren: beyond journey's end #whump #hurt comfort #frieren spoilers

[weavewilled]

moon dust in your lungs, stars in your eyes —— —— you are a child of the cosmos, a ruler of the skies

HANDY LINKS !     CARRD | MEME TAG | HEADCANONS

ind. & prv. GALE DEKARIOS of Baldur's Gate 3, conjured by ROWAN. 30+, CST, she/her. largely iconless !! this blog is a gale appreciation station. find me also @oathwilled. this blog may contain canonical elements of canon-appropriate violence, body horror, past abuse & grooming, sui.cide, and depression. mains / affiliates : @sanguinelf ; @ofunderdarks ; @triickst ; @thelyss ; @shiilelagh ; @thiefscant

a note for sideblogs: i’m crap at keeping track of sideblogs and such and remembering to follow them but if i’m following your main blog and you have rp sideblog(s), i’ll happily interact with any of your sideblogs. don’t take me not following them as disinterest, i probably just literally missed them or forgot to follow them when i saw them.

i’m slow. i work from home as a technical writer and i also have a first grader and a small zoo of pets, so my writing time varies wildly. please feel free to send a meme or two to get things started with me!

#pinned post;

[altocat]

From that writing prompt list if you're wanting people to pick some to throw at you: 74. “You don’t know you the way I do.”

Obviously Sephiroth saying it but you choose what character??

Scenario: Post-Nibelheim Sephiroth and Post-CC Genesis 😈

The shape circled him, its lithe, dark body slithering through the cinders with deliberate relish, the cool glint of stark emerald eyes in the gloom.

The moon hung full and silver between them, the night emptied of stars, the wind crying around them like gray ghosts in the trees. Dust and ash. The scent of smoke, coiled ruin burning hot and acidic in his belly, on the top of his tongue.

The shape--the THING that had once been his friend only laughed, bits of red dripping from the lengthened blade at his side, pale skin flecked, stained. A stalking stagger, all but a lunge, long silver hair reddened, a dark baptism.

"Come now, my sweet," And those dark words, that deadly calm. Those savage, empty, unblinking eyes where warmth had once pooled. "Come my love, my pretty. Come closer. I'm very eager to see what you've learned. But then, learning was never your strong suit."

"I've learned enough."

A wide circle. Slower steps. Savored. That limitless, unfathomable stare.

"Seph."

That smirk. That cool, measured arrogance.

"Seph, we don't have to do this. You know that. I don't want to fight you."

"A pity. But you always were rather pathetic. A wriggling little coward, feeding on the efforts of your superiors. All you were ever good for was a laugh. It was entertaining watching you struggle."

"I survived."

"Mm. Not for much longer, my love. All in good time."

The auburn warrior swallowed, the pale flash of his Mako eyes darkening, the grip on his rapier tightening. "You...weren't like this. You were different."

"I'm more than I ever was. I am the Chosen One. The fate of the planet rests in my hands. All are bound to me, and all shall bear witness to Mother's glorious reign. We'll do it together, she and I. We shall cleanse the world of humanity's corruption."

"You're just corrupting yourself."

Narrowed eyes, a rumbling purr through the flames, dark boots that pause, grinding the ashen earth. "...is that coming from you?"

Genesis was only silent.

A chuckle, soft and smooth. Nearly innocent. "Such a spectacle. One of your best performances, beloved. One for the ages. To imagine yourself capable of change. To begin to honestly believe you could be anything more than what you were."

"I HAVE changed."

"Have you? Have you really? I don't see it. I know you. Who you are. What drives you. Even now, I can see it burning in your eyes. Desperation. Longing. Need. You want so desperately to have control, to force yourself to completion, to suckle and root your way through, knowing full well there isn't enough to satiate your need. Poor, poor Genesis. Always behind. Always second best. Always such a bitter disappointment."

The shorter man tightened his fists.

But the shape only laughed again, advancing, teeth bared, a flare of heated triumph and pleasure. "Mother was right about you. A waste of my attention. Little more than a petty distraction. But I've always seen that about you. I only needed her confirmation. It's so obvious now. Do you honestly think you have a chance? That you could ever hope to stop me? Do you really think?"

A pause. Soft breath; a sigh. Head lowering, the single shimmer that caresses the ridge of his cheek, beading on the sharp length of his chin.

"Darling," Genesis murmured. "I think you've quite lost your mind."

#Sephiroth #Genesis rhapsodos #Sephgen #Sephesis #Prompts #Ffvii #Ff7 #Crisis Core #Final Fantasy 7

[jadescornerofinternetinsanity]

Its cold and its dark and im thinking about fathers and what it means to love. Because the first person who taught me the shape of love crushed me in his fist and now im scared that every one i fall for will die with claw marks in their chest. Im worried that i don’t know what it means to love without destruction.

I will cling and i will claw my chest open and ask if you think my lungs are beautiful. I will lie on a concrete floor and bleed and hope it’s pretty. Suffering is like art if you do it right. 

Tell me who left first, because in the haze i cant quite remember. If it was you, i forgive you. If it was me, i hope you hate me for it forever. 

I’ve spent more years trying to reach into the mirror and reshape my skin even if the broken glass cuts me than i ever did finding it beautiful. And sometimes i look at the blue in my eyes and the scars on my stomach and think “someone could love this” and sometimes i think i’ll only find peace beneath a gravestone. 

And if i did, would you write my epitaph? Would it be kind? Would you claw into the stone with your nails and tell the world i lived and someone loved me for it? 

Would you forgive me for leaving? It would be easier than forgiving me for what i did to stay. 

The strings tying me to life are tangled these days, they fray and twist and tighten around my wrists like restraints. 

Sometimes i scream at the sky like it’s my fathers ghost and i ask who was I supposed to be? I ask where are you? Why aren’t you here? 

I hate flying. I hate getting too close to the stars. 

There are a million poems about people being made out of stardust. Hell hath no fury like a poet with a science metaphor. We love to strip the world bare and claw through the dirt looking for something beautiful. How long have humans stared at the sky and found home? How long have we buried our friends in the dirt. How long have we looked up and down and found more? How long have we traced shapes into the stars and told their stories? When does it end? 

Should it? 

We climbed our way to the moon and never went back. A checkmark on a list to prove something to a god that doesn’t exist. A challenge. How dare he think anything is out of reach. 

The universe is expanding, did you know that? Did you know that every second the edge of life gets further away? There will always be something we can't see. There will always be places we can’t go. There will always be rocks we can’t claim, stick our flag into, and pretend to own. 

One day the sun is going to collapse in on itself. Did you know how fragile life is? Did you know we live every day on the precipice of destruction? This is not poetry. There is nothing beautiful about mortality. There is nothing pretty about death. One day the sun will cave in on itself and burn everything we’ve built, one day ozymandias crumbles to dust. Atlantis sinks. The stars burn out. Checkmate. 

We claw life out from the jaws of death and think we’ve won something. We haven’t. 

To live is to suffer, did you know that? 

I don’t know who im talking to. The sky doesn’t answer your questions. It doesn’t matter how many telescopes you send to ask the stars why we’re here. Sound doesn’t travel in space.

Do you know how much we made out of nothing? How much of our history is purely a riot against insignificance? How much blood spilled, temples built, statues carved, wars fought and lost and won and bones buried to prove we were here? How much of the past is just a teenaged nobody screaming that something happened here, something mattered here. How much time do we spend begging our descendants to listen to us? 

There is something violent about fading out of existence. There is peace in it too. Aristotle will never rest, and Shakespeare will be studied by people he never knew until the world ends. 

What is more cruel? To be forgotten or remembered? 

I don’t know who i’m talking to. 

One day the sun will cave in on itself. One day we will fall through a crease in the center of the galaxy. Nothing is immortal. Why do we beg for it to be? 

I don’t know who I’m talking to. None of us do. We talk anyway.

#poetry #jade writes sometimes #a nihilistic demon possessed me and i wrote this in a fever dream #writing #creative writing #prose on tumblr #prose poetry #prose poem #poets on tumblr #poets and writers

[airiat]

snippets someday~

Rules:

Revisit an old fic (or earlier chapters of your current WIP) and share a snip from: - Your first chapter - Your favorite chapter - Your most challenging chapter Alternatively, if you don't write longfic, feel free to share your one-shots. Provide as much or as little commentary as you want.

i see u @mareenavee and ur gentle nudge for me to talk about a certain raggedy ol' fic of mine 😏

under the cut for snippets from Lead Me Not into Temptation

First Chapter: Outlander

The ashen air blows dust into my lungs as I step off the ship. Gjalund, the Nord who gave me passage to this island, speaks to me as I start to walk down the dock--something about him hoping I can find out what is going on around here--but I pay him little mind. My foreign surroundings take up far too much of my attention for conversation.

It is early morning, and the rising sun paints the sky a yellow that seems almost unnatural. To the right, I can see a large edifice built with the Imperial architecture of Cyrodiil, but in front of me, further back, is a tiered building constructed of sloping lines that look almost like the shell of an insect. The grounds are coated in grey ash, with a path forged through it to the town. The few trees that stand are dead and snapped in half, or layered in so much ash that they may as well be. Beyond everything and out into the sea, I can see Red Mountain spraying its contents into the sky, unending.

-

there's not one bit of me convinced i would write this opening in even remotely the same way now--same words, same scene, same attention to detail. no, it'd be very, very different. these days, i stay away from heavy description, focus instead on building a strong atmosphere for the reader to build their own visuals into. you can't make someone see things exactly the way you do. you may as well lean into that and save the words for something more important. still, i think i stand by this opening. it does the job.

Favorite Chapter: 21 - Truth at Any Cost

“C’mere,” I say to him.

Teldryn gets up from his seat hesitantly, some restrained emotion pulled over his face. He comes to stand before me, and I rise to him. My arms are around him before I can even realize what I’m doing, my face buried in the crook of his neck. He relaxes into me, holds me to him, his hand running gently through my hair. I surprise myself; I don’t cry. It’s like he has fortified me, passed his strength on to me.

“You are so much stronger than you know, Fjoara,” he murmurs. “Everything you need you already have.”

I pull back to meet his eyes. “I have you.”

Teldryn exhales, leans forward, his forehead against mine. “You do, indeed.”

His warm breath fanning over my face, his hands steady on my back, his lips, full and soft, a whisper away from my own. The world grows silent as I close my eyes and press my lips against his. When he kisses me back, it’s as if time has returned to when dragons are still nothing but myth and Miraak is only a name eroded by lost memories.

What shape does fear take? I’ve forgotten. All I know now is the vastness of eternity, the moons, and all the stars in the sky. I hold them here in my arms.

-

now this is what i'm talking about! right here!! this shit slaps! i couldn't have written it any better. i mean i think maybe the dialogue could maybe benefit from a little bit of fiddling with but yeah anyway good fucking shit

Most Challenging Chapter: 17 - To Climb Mountains

The dragon’s flight is weak, dipping and flailing through the air. The end of this battle approaches.

I position myself beneath the dragon and lift my head to the sky, shouting Unrelenting Force with a might like I never thought myself capable of having. My Thu’um pummels against his dying body, knocking him against the harsh, unforgiving stone of Saering’s Watch. As Kaalkriluth crumples to the ground with a groan of agony and a spray of gravel, I sprint towards him and vault up onto the back of his neck. In one smooth motion, I pull Dawnbreaker from its scabbard and plunge the blade into the top of his head, dragging it back to create a deep, mortal wound. In a plume of enchanted fire, the Daedric weapon slides through the skull with little more resistance than a boat’s oar through water.

With my final blow, I can feel the dragon’s life force slacken. While the last bit of his breath shudders out from him, I lean forward onto the pommel of my sword still embedded into his head, closing my eyes in wait of what I know happens next.

I don’t have to see it. I only need to hear the crackle of Kaalkriluth’s body incinerating below me to know that I have managed this feat. As I feel the storm of his soul rushing into me, the thousands of years of his life unravel in my mind until it nestles amongst my own memories, my own stories, my own thousands of nights of dreams. I am scorched painfully raw with the new power I can scarcely handle, but for a moment I can almost feel my Dovah’s wings unfurling at my sides. Only once everything has quieted, do I open my eyes, the wetness of the tears that rim them stinging in the cold air. Below me, Kaalkriluth is nothing but bones.

-

i don't like writing action. this is no big secret. having to write a character walking around in a room sends me into mortal peril. it's hard. i don't always know how little i can get away with saying. if i could write a story of nothing but dialogue and my purple prose i would do just that. but here we are. we're writing an epic battle with a dragon. oookayy. this was a very hard chapter to write. i'm fairly sure i began it and then put it aside for a long time because i was so overwhelmed. let me be frank.

it's easy for me to write. i wouldn't be doing it if it wasn't. i'm quite sure that i could write anything that i wanted to, if i wanted to bad enough. anything. so here's this dragon battle. i wrote it. what's hard is when i have to stop and think about how i need to write something. when i have to be very deliberate. when it feels like i have to choreograph something rather than let it flow from me. this chapter is like a night at the ballet, with dancers and their bloody feet hidden by pristine satin shoes; the rest of my work is the break of dawn at a club in, like, berlin.

this chapter is different. it succeeds. it has merit. but it's not me, ultimately. i've written another fantasy story since lmnit and in that story, my character doesn't even so much as draw a dagger. i like it better that way. writing a tes fanfic shoehorned me into needing to write dense action. i'll never do it again. probably.

#skyrim #teldryn sero #my posts #my writing #lmnit

[deathisararemercy]

No time to continue my "Day Three of "Drawing animals so I can make some proper Puss in Boots fanart" challenge, but I did finish this small character sheet for one of my…many OCs.

This is Fate - pronouns a work in progress. Fate is a bird lady with three faces. Fate's head swivels around to each of the different faces - one has gold eyes, one has blue, and the other has red. Fate actually wears a big curly wig; Fate's "real hair" is just bird feathers. Fate's high collar is also made of feathers, which Fate uses to write in the Book of Fate.

The Book of Fate is a seemingly normal-sized book. It has a lovely navy clothbound cover with silver embossing in it. It's really pretty! And if you look inside it or (stars forbid) write inside of it, you supposedly go mad! After all, reading about your or other people's destinies or trying to change fate itself could end in cosmic disaster!

Fate's job is simple. Protect the book from landing in the hands of anybody else, and give Life and Death their list of tasks in the mortal realm based on the people's fates in the Book. Every week Life and Death drop by Fate's little pocket dimension called The Writer's Room to get their assignments. This bit I wrote for a fic explains how Death gets there - by ripping a seam in the universe:

He flicked his sickles down and dragged them on the ground in a circle around him. Once it was completed, he stepped in the center, flexing his fingers. “Here we go.” He leapt up in the air. The sickles collapsed into half-moons. And the wolf slammed them into the ground. If he were mortal, his bones would have shattered from the force. If he were mortal, his lungs would have collapsed from the air around him being vacuumed from existence. If he were mortal, the dirt and rocks that flew from the ground would have blinded him, if the dazzling array of light and color didn’t first. But Death was not mortal. He fell through this seam ripped open in the universe, and for a brief moment, his heart stopped. And then, the seam sewed itself back together, he stood up, and his heart began to beat again rapidly in his chest. “Never going to get used to that,” he grimaced, rolling his shoulders back and shaking off the dust.

Fate and Death have a working relationship. After all, everyone's fates all end in death. Death…tolerates Fate, but Fate really wants to be Death's friend. And we all know the best way into Death's heart is by teasing him relentlessly:

“So you’ve come back to me yet again.” “We do this every week, Fate.” “Oh, Muerte! Never change!” “Hahaha. Hahaha. You’re hilarious,” Death scowled. “Stop being so grumpy. What’s wrong? Realized that meddling in mortals’ affairs makes things less fun for you? Did that cat escape with his last life?” “I let him go,” the wolf growled. “What a surprise! I told you, Death. My book never lies.”

Honestly, I think Fate looks forward to Death's visits solely because he tells her stories about what it's actually like in the mortal realm. He also doesn't mind telling them, since he doesn't have many other people to talk too; Fate is an eager audience.

Fate is bound by cosmic law to remain in the Writer's Room. If Fate were to leave, the Book of Fate could be in danger. It's not all bad. Since Fate lives there alone, Fate can redecorate all the time. Fate has been in "forests" and "mountains" and "villages" based on the stories Death tells. But Fate know these little worlds made in the Writer's Room are nothing like what the real mortal world is like. In the mortal world, there are wonderful sights, and colors, and sounds, and people. It's lonely in the Writer's Room.

One little trip outside of it wouldn't hurt right?

One little peek to those forests of Far Far Away that Death had described wouldn't cause any harm, right?

This is how Fate's book gets stolen by a girl in a red hood.

#puss in boots #puss in boots oc #puss in boots death #oc: fate #.art #.writing

[howlsconstantyearning]

I stare up at her pale face with fresh tears partially clearing and smearing the existing tear stains on my cheeks

Moon

Sister

Friend

How could you watch

How could you cast your beautiful light down onto such a monster

Why didn’t you send the stars

Send the dust to clog his lungs

Celestial tears to stop mine

You see so many human tears pass and never intervene

Just watching

From dewey yet cratered eyes

Crying along with me

With every tear of my flesh like a new saline drip down my mask

I need the pain to stop

I need it all to stop

I just want to stop

Moon

Please

As motionless and cold as my own mother

Please I can’t call out to her

She’s dead in my head like the heart in my soul

I crave the stillness found in soil

Bury me moon and shine pretty beams through the slits in my casket

Let me see your light shine through my tears one last time as they dry for a final time

I’ll never ask you to sit with me again

Just sit with me now

I was alone when it happened I can’t be alone now yet it’s all I crave so

I don’t cast my own beams into any of you

Mine aren’t soft as moonlight

They burn

Like chemicals

Sting like the stench of saline in my nose as I stare into the fluorescent

Crinkling the bloody paper below me

While a stranger holds me in the same position you did

With a clinical coldness and compassion

To get your own job done and comfortable me some

Enough to get what you need from me

Then I’ll go

Home

IVs will be clamped and pulled out

Bandaids placed

Pills dispensed

And you’ll write “CLOSED” on my file and move to the next

While I wonder if you didn’t take something from me for yourself and dump me out in the cold too

#emotional #original poem #tw sex assault #poetry #bpd coping #bpd diary

[astraebled]

#TG DMP. 1   |  * ⋆

✦  ʃ   — out of stars ;  ◜ooc.◞ * ⋆ ✦  ʃ   — counting stars ;  ◜ic.◞ * ⋆ ✦  ʃ   — out of stars ( the voice inside his mind ) ;  ◜mun.◞ * ⋆

✦  ʃ   — galaxies in your bones and star‒filled scars / rise‚ for you are a constellation in the making ;  ◜jellal.◞ * ⋆ ✦  ʃ   — not alive ( not dead either ) / just a ghost with a beating heart ;  ◜study.◞ * ⋆ ✦  ʃ   — and i couldn’t stand the person inside me ( i turned all the mirrors around ) ;  ◜isms.◞ * ⋆ ✦  ʃ   — moon dust in your lungs﹐stars in your eyes && a war within your mind ;  ◜aes.◞ * ⋆ ✦  ʃ   — the ghosts of the past speak to all who listen ;  ◜hc.◞ * ⋆ ✦  ʃ   — i’ll tell you my sins ( so you can sharpen your knife ) ;  ◜melodies.◞ * ⋆ ✦  ʃ   — a lost soul’s screams inked on paper ;  ◜writing.◞ * ⋆

✦  ʃ   — show those haters how it’s done by hating yourself most ;  ◜crack.◞ * ⋆ ✦  ʃ   — WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE ;  ◜promo.◞ * ⋆ ✦  ʃ   — WANTED: JELLAL FERNANDES / DEAD OR ALIVE ;  ◜self‒promo.◞ * ⋆

✦  ʃ   — letter from the council ;  ◜psa.◞ * ⋆ ✦  ʃ   — the council’s archives ;  ◜keepsake.◞ * ⋆

✦  ʃ   — ad astra per aspera ;  ◜q.◞ * ⋆

#✦ ʃ — out of stars ; ◜ooc.◞ * ⋆ #✦ ʃ — counting stars ; ◜ic.◞ * ⋆ #✦ ʃ — out of stars ( the voice inside his mind ) ; ◜mun.◞ * ⋆ #✦ ʃ — galaxies in your bones and star‒filled scars / rise‚ for you are a constellation in the making ; ◜jellal.◞ * ⋆ #✦ ʃ — not alive ( not dead either ) / just a ghost with a beating heart ; ◜study.◞ * ⋆ #✦ ʃ — and i couldn’t stand the person inside me ( i turned all the mirrors around ) ; ◜isms.◞ * ⋆ #✦ ʃ — moon dust in your lungs﹐stars in your eyes && a war within your mind ; ◜aes.◞ * ⋆ #✦ ʃ — the ghosts of the past speak to all who listen ; ◜hc.◞ * ⋆ #✦ ʃ — i’ll tell you my sins ( so you can sharpen your knife ) ; ◜melodies.◞ * ⋆ #✦ ʃ — a lost soul’s screams inked on paper ; ◜writing.◞ * ⋆ #✦ ʃ — show those haters how it’s done by hating yourself most ; ◜crack.◞ * ⋆ #✦ ʃ — WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE ; ◜promo.◞ * ⋆ #✦ ʃ — WANTED: JELLAL FERNANDES / DEAD OR ALIVE ; ◜self‒promo.◞ * ⋆ #✦ ʃ — letter from the council ; ◜psa.◞ * ⋆ #✦ ʃ — the council’s archives ; ◜keepsake.◞ * ⋆ #✦ ʃ — ad astra per aspera ; ◜q.◞ * ⋆

[pixeldreqms]

ever since sabrina joined a group chat with multiple cast members and other mutual friends, she's learned to put her phone on do not disturb when she goes to sleep. the occasional buzz or two won't bother her, but the night where ian, evan, and kennedy talked nonstop from the hours of one to four in the morning and blew up her phone with notification after notification after notification? that bothered her. that night forced her hand. so really, it's partially evan's own fault that she doesn't get his string of texts trying to wake her up and talk to her. her phone may not wake her up that night, but the sharp sound of something hitting glass does. the first hit makes her start to stir, but it's the second or third one that has her eyes opening. at first she's confused, not knowing where the sound is coming from. then, as she's sitting up and trying to blink the blurriness of sleep from her eyes, her window gets struck again. now, she's a little concerned. she debates getting up to peek outside, but if it's some crazed serial killer trying to lure her to her window, she doesn't want to risk it. the window that's currently being bombarded with what she can only assume are the pebbles from their front yard is at the side of her house, out of view of her parents room, but she's sure if she asks her dad to get up and go into another room to look outside, he'd do it for her. that's when she grabs for her phone, and sees nine messages from evan. she skips right to the last one, which reads: 'i'm gonna show up at your house if you don't text me back.' the tension in sabrina's shoulders deflates as she tosses her phone down. this idiot... her phone also tells her it's almost three in the morning. he knows very well she went to bed hours ago, so why he expected a text back, she doesn't know. she supposes she could just read his texts to answer any questions she may have, but she doesn't want to keep him standing outside her house any longer. pushing her covers from her body, she goes to the wide window at the wall opposite her bed and opens the curtains. low and behold, there's evan burgess, digging through the dunne family's yard looking for more pebbles. his skateboard is laying at his feet. sabrina takes a second - just one - to run her fingers through her bedhead in a half-assed attempt to look presentable, then she opens the window. evan's head snaps up at the first sound of it, grinning up at her. her lips purse tightly, trying with all her might to not beam down at him. she should be annoyed he's here, waking her up in the middle of the night. annoyed. not secretly pleased to see him. "hey idiot, why the hell are you throwing rocks at my window?" she whispers, just loud enough for him to hear from the ground. her bedroom is only up one flight of stairs, so the distance isn't too far, but she still has to raise her voice a little more than she'd like. "my neighbors will call the cops on you if they see you outside my house like this." "bring 'em on." she laughs. she didn't stay annoyed long. "why are you here?" she asks again. "you didn't text me back." he says it as if showing up to her house is the obvious solution to that. as if she should have expected this. "i was asleep. like most normal people at three in the morning. you couldn't have waited a few more hours for a text back?" "i really couldn't," he shakes his head, and sabrina feels herself smiling again despite herself. "i figured you were asleep, but you could have also been dead and i didn't want to take that chance." "evan - what?" she laughs again. "is that the only reason you're here? i didn't text back and you assume death?" "no. kinda." he pauses, but she doesn't say anything, and her silence forces him to elaborate. "i had a nightmare about you and i just wanted to make sure you’re okay." sabrina's face softens. it's a ridiculous answer, but the sincerity of it strikes her in a way she's surprised by. did he really skate all the way to her house, which is over half an hour away from his own, just because he had a bad dream about her? what kind of person did that? a crazy person. a beautiful person. she can almost feel her heart swelling with fondness as she stares down at him. "are you serious?" she asks. "yeah." this is where she should tell him she's fine and he can go. she should tell him that it was sweet of him to want to check on her, but there was no need, and he can make his journey home now. her neighbors may get suspicious of a random person lurking around the dunne home, but her parents will actually ground her for eternity if they catch a boy anywhere near her room at this hour. she knows this, and she knows what she should say to him. but instead, she says the complete opposite. "do you wanna climb up?" his smile when he nods and says yeah is instantly enough to make her not regret it. there's a tree at the edge of the home, perfectly positioned right near a slant underneath a window. once evan has climbed the tree - only falling from halfway up one time, getting both laughed at and scolded by sabrina for his noisy clumsiness - he jumps onto the slant and carefully makes his way around the corner of the house and onto her window ledge. he sits at the edge of it, both long legs dangling in a way that makes her a little nervous he may fall, so as she tosses one leg over the ledge to sit on it with him, she puts a hand on his knee and taps it. a silent, insistent gesture to get him to sit in the same position as her. he thankfully obliges, safely straddling the ledge and facing her. it's not pitch black out, but still dark, and she briefly thinks about turning on her own bedroom light. but she can just barely make out his face in the moonlight which means it's the same for him, and she thinks she likes this. the freedom to stare at him without being so visible. any metaphorical hearts in her eyes hidden in the dark. he looks tired, and she fully believes he'd come to see her right after waking from a bad dream. it makes her want to comfort him, but she's not sure how to do that. when his eyes turn to meet hers, her gaze flickers up to the sky instead. the moon is big and beautiful tonight. she's always adored the moon - the decor in her room would tell anyone that. but she rarely gets the chance to appreciate it. she goes to bed so early, and usually rises with the sun. so really, she should be thankful for this chance. he apologizes for waking her, but she shrugs him off. she wants to be annoyed, but now she just feels the complete opposite. she feels light. cared about. she can't think of a single other person in her life who would react the same way as him. "what was the nightmare about?" she asks, curious. "what happened to me?" "you don't want me to tell you." she starts to argue, but stops herself. sometimes she forgets how well he knows her. "gory?" he nods. otherwise a fan of horror and all things spooky, gore's the one thing that she can't even stand to hear about. it makes her squirm. she's pretty sure she's only mentioned this outright once, maybe twice, in the years they've known each other. but he remembered. "did i die?" for some reason, this question makes him laugh. "no. me and bigfoot saved you." his answer makes her laugh, too. but she quickly shushes him, covering her own mouth with her hand, but she's still giggling behind it. "why did you wanna check on me then?" she asks. "if i was fine?" "you didn't die, but you were still... you know. fucked up. i think i woke up in time." "before i died?" he nods, not laughing any longer. she feels the strong need to hear the sound again, especially now that he has that look on his face. "forget about me, i hope bigfoot made it out alive," she says, and it has evan smiling again. "i'm kind of really curious how this dream team came to be. can't you give me anymore details? just leave out the icky bits?" so he does, starting from what he thinks is the beginning since some of it's become a blur already, only really leaving out chunks of the end. so sabrina's not sure what happens to her exactly that has her dying in evan's - and bigfoot's - arms, but she gets the backstory. it's mostly hilarious, imagining the three of them as vigilantes of sorts, an unstoppable trio stealing mail trucks and trying to solve a murder, with it somehow ending up with them in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. but just from evan's tone, she can tell that the way the dream ended makes the whole thing less amusing to him. "it felt so real at the end," he tells her. she nods in understanding. she frequently will wake up, heart racing from an all too real feeling nightmare. real anxiety making her hands tremble even after she knows it was just a dream. even more often for her though, she experiences the opposite of that. she'll have amazing dreams where she swears she'll wake up and still feel someone holding her hand. still feel the warmth and pressure of an arm around her. she'll wake up and she can almost swear the dreams aren't so much dreams as they are memories of a kiss she's never had. but she can feel it so vividly then, and her lips tingle when she wakes. she'll be in a haze the rest of the day after a dream like that, unable to even think if she as much looks in evan's direction. evan - who is always the one in those dreams with her. always. as much as she hates that he had a dream so awful and stirring, it is kind of nice knowing she's not the only one who dreams of the other like that. she wonders how often he dreams of her, but she doesn't dare to ask. "i've had dreams like that about you," she admits, but is careful to not give much more detail than that. "they can be scary." he echoes her own question from minutes ago. "did i die?" "no, i've never dreamed about you dying. other bad stuff though. one time i had a dream that you and kenny kidnapped jimmy, the lighting guy, and i had to testify in court against you, and you were crying and screaming at me and it was so vivid. like the dream was so dumb and unrealistic but that part was so real and i woke up really upset." "you fucking snitched on me?" he scoffs. "i didn't snitch," she says in defense of her dream self. "you were already caught. i just... confirmed your guilt." he shakes his head. "snitch." it's easy after that, to fall into a seemingly never-ending conversation. they linger on the topic of dreams, retelling some of the funnier or generally more memorable ones. he questions how she remembers so many, and she confesses to him that she has a dream journal where she likes to document all the dreams she has, so she doesn't forget them - and then has to quickly change the subject when he wants to see it. there's too many confessions within it for her to let that happen. otherwise, she'd be willing to share. even with all the other weird, personal dreams she's had and written down, she'd let him. she trusts him. as they keep talking, sabrina can tell whatever ugly images he'd seen in his sleep were starting to fade from the front of his mind. he still looks tired, and she's sure she does too, but he looks happier now. or maybe just distracted, but if that's the best she can do, she's happy she was able to do so. she tells him that she doesn't like the thought of him skating in the middle of the night, and he tells her all the weird stuff he saw on his way over - possibly in attempt to make her feel better, but it does no such thing. it concerns her even more, if possible. they discuss all his attempts at teaching her to skate. he insists she's getting better even though she's not so sure. they talk about their friends, how she has to silence her phone because of them, they tell stories from set that make them laugh no matter how many times they retell them. he tries to convince her to sneak downstairs to get him a snack, but she refuses. she tells him to go home if he's hungry, but hopes he doesn't actually go. he doesn't. not then, anyway. neither of them budge from their spots, or make any move at all to do, until a little later when the alarm of sabrina's phone forces her to. "oh my god, it's 5:30," she whispers, phone in hand once she grabs it from her bed and comes back to stand at the window. "you've been here for two and a half hours." "you set your alarm for 5:30?" he asks. they're clearly not shocked at the same things. "i get up at six and i like time to snooze," she explains, setting her silenced phone on top of her nearby desk. finally, she looks up at the sky again. she's not sure her eyes had left evan ever since they got deep into conversation. it's still dark, but she can see the sun beginning to think about making it's way into the sky. she can't believe they sat there and talked for so long. or rather, she can believe they have the ability to talk for hours, as they've done so before. she's just surprised because it hadn't felt like more than a small chunk of that time had passed. how had the night gone so quickly? "my parents are going to be up soon," she notes with a sigh, knowing that'll mean she won't be able to get anymore sleep at this point. it'll be suspicious if she goes back to bed and is asleep when they awaken. they're used to their daughter's early schedule, and highly encourage it. "oh. so i should probably go? i don't wanna get you in trouble." that hadn't been why she mentioned it, and she quickly regrets saying it out loud. "wait-" her hand darts out to touch his shoulder, even though he hadn't started to climb down just yet. realizing this, she moves her hand away and sits on the ledge again, back in her original position. her legs are a little sore from sitting like that so long, but it doesn't stop her. "um... just stay until the sun's up. so you don't have to skate in the dark." it's a weak excuse to keep him there longer. by the time he got out of the neighborhood, it'd be bright enough for him to see, but luckily he doesn't call her out for it. he just nods, and they sit there and watch as the sun slowly rises in the sky. despite her tiredness, she feels oddly peaceful. the night sky has always been her preference, but something about the birds chirping sounds beautiful this morning. a car starting somewhere down the street pops the little bubble evan and sabrina had been living in, and they seem to both realize that as the world comes to life around them, their chances of him getting caught increase. it's time for him to. "go home and get some sleep," she tells him. "and be safe, please?" he throws his other leg over the ledge and looks to start his descent to the ground but once again, she puts a hand on him to stop him. this time, hers rests directly on his. when he turns to look at her again, she - quickly, before she loses the courage - leans in and presses her lips to his cheek. when he doesn't pull away, and possibly even leans into it, unless that's just her imagination, the urge to pull away as fast as possible fades, and she lets the kiss linger instead. the contact, and simply being that close to him and feeling his warmth radiating from him, makes the butterflies in her stomach erupt like crazy. she's never kissed anyone on the lips before, but just kissing evan on the cheek has her absolutely weak in the knees. she can't imagine what a real kiss would do to her. but she's not opposed to finding out one day. "thanks for making sure i was okay," she whispers once she's pulled away. "thanks for not being dead." just like when he'd first told her he'd came to check on her after he'd had a nightmare, she finds his words so ridiculous yet so sincere and they make her heart do flips in her chest. "you got it," she nods, lifting her hand from his finally. she stays in the window as he climbs down, until he's safely on the ground, until he's grabbing his skateboard and whisper-yelling up to her that he'll text her when he gets home. she stays in the window, watching him skate down the street until he's no longer in view.

#◦ ` ･ writing : to the moon and back #◦ ` ･ writing : moon dust in your lungs ; stars in your eyes #◦ ` ･ writing #◦ ` ･ mine

[glaess]

♔

#✦ ｡* ♔ ❪ kathryn newton › moon dust in your lungs‚ stars in your eyes. #✦ ｡* ♔ ❪ character study › oh darling‚ you are so very broken and no one cares to notice. #✦ ｡* ♔ ❪ aesthetic › her aura is made of poetry‚ roses‚ and galaxies. #✦ ｡* ♔ ❪ headcanon › please god‚ be kind to me. i’m too young to have these scars. #✦ ｡* ♔ ❪ writing › starter call. #✦ ｡* ♔ ❪ writing › open starter. #✦ ｡* ♔ ❪ writing › closed starter. #✦ ｡* ♔ ❪ arc one. ( main ) › dum spiro‚ spero. #td.

[theblacklupins]

Words upon Words

Remus loved to write poems.

He first got introduced to them when he received a book for his birthday, one consisting of love poems from all over the world, written by Muggle poets. But he’d left it on his shelf for years to collect dust, more interested in his fiction and the occasional book on Muggle and Wizarding History.

But in his fifth year, he started noticing Sirius more; how his hair would hang in perfect, loose coils, how his eyes were framed with long eyelashes, how there were tiny speckles of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Remus started feeling things, things he didn’t understand, and he was scared. He was scared and he wasn’t sure what to do. He had never felt this way with anyone else before, not with the short flings he’s had with his old girlfriends, nor his first time kissing a boy who definitely hadn’t deserved his kiss.

So for the first time since he got that book of love poems, he slid it out of his bookshelf, seeing if it could help him understand.

And it did; it helped him understand so much better.

But of course, with the understanding came the terrifying realisation that, fuck, he really did like Sirius Black.

The poems talked of hearts, of bright smiles and shy hands, of how there was always that warm feeling in your chest whenever you stare at your significant other, and how everything seemed so small compared to them. And that was how Remus felt about Sirius, wasn’t it? He always had butterflies in his stomach and a warm feeling in his chest when he was looking at him, or talking to him, just being with him, even thinking of him. And he would give up absolutely anything, anything at all, if it would make Sirius happy.

And it was terrifying.

He had shut the book closed, and made to return it to his bookshelf. But a feeling in his stomach stopped him in his tracks, and after a few seconds of hesitation, he slid it under his pillow instead.

And after that, was when he started writing poems. Because clearly, he couldn’t tell Sirius how he felt, so why not try to put it pen to paper instead?

So he started writing. A lot. He used up so much parchment, he had to buy thick stacks of it whenever they could go to Hogsmeade. His ink was running out faster, but he continued writing. Because for him, it was easy to pen down how he felt for Sirius; it was like the words just flowed out of him. He wrote about how Sirius could be compared to the most beautiful flowers; how he could be the moon to his stars, his own lighting in a bottle.

And it was all fine, well, it was, up to the point where Sirius somehow found all the neatly folded parchment paper where Remus wrote his poems.

And Remus walked onto him reading them in the dorms, on his bed. He swore his heart had never fell down to his stomach so fast.

“Sirius!” Remus lunged for the papers, but there were too many of them scattered on the bed. “What- what the bloody fuck? Sirius, these are mine! You can’t just— just go through them, you dick—”

“Rem,” Sirius interrupted. He had this faraway look in his eyes, but at the same time, they were clear and sharp. It looked as though he was fighting to stay in reality or to sink into his daydreams. It scared Remus. Terrified him. “These poems. You wrote these?”

Remus blinked, the feeling of horror that was slowly crawling up his spine making him momentarily freeze. “Yeah— yeah, I did. Can you give them back now?”

Sirius hadn’t blinked. “And these are love poems, right?” he asked, completely ignoring Remus. The werewolf clenched his fist, panic making his head cloud and ache.

“Fuck— yes, yes they are, Pads. Now can you give them back please? They’re really private.”

“And they’re about me.”

Remus couldn’t breathe.

How did he know? Remus— Remus had been so sure he had been hiding his feelings for Sirius so well, never letting an emotion that wasn’t strictly platonic show. How did he know—?

“You wrote my name in one of these.” Sirius pointed to one in particular. “And… yeah. I… read them. All.”

Remus swore he was about to collapse. His knees were weak and his breaths came fast, and his eyes went blurry.

“Hey.” He couldn’t hear anything through the beating of his heart in his ears. Was that ringing?

“Remus!”

Remus blinked, and there Sirius was, right in front of him. All he could see were grey eyes clouded with worry, and he had to blink before he went cross-eyed.

“Sirius—”

And then the worry in those eyes quickly switched to determination, and Sirius pushed forward, kissing him.

And at that moment, words had never felt so useless — so small, so purposeless. No words could describe the moment they were in. Because there they were, pressed together, the universe realigning just for them, just so the brightest star could end up to the brightest moon.

And as they kissed, Remus swore he felt the world tilting beneath his feet. But it didn’t matter anyway, because Sirius was there to hold him steady.

#remus john lupin #remus lupin #sirius black #sirius orion black #wolfstar #wolfstar fluff #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fanfic #wolfstar fic #wolfstar oneshot #wolfstar drabble

[xwing-baby]

I Don’t Trust You (Din Djarin x gn!Reader)

for @propertyofdindjarin​ - sorry its so late but i hope you enjoy this!!

Characters: Din Djarin x gn!reader (i dont think i used any gendered language in this but let me know if i did and ill change the tag)

Word Count: 8k (this really ran away with me lol)

Warnings: enemies to lovers, description of injury, canon level violence, little steamy (kissing, insinuated smut), threat of death, like one swear word, pre show! Din

Summary: The Mandalorian killed you two years ago, yet here you are alive and well on a different planet. The Mandalorian is called in to help you and your team of royal guards find a missing princess. Things go horribly wrong and you are left to journey home with your worst enemy...

A/N: shout out to the random radio 4 play that gave me the idea for the plot of this and to @propertyofdindjarin for the request for enemies to lovers! i’ve never done this trope before and im not sure if i really did it justice but i enjoyed writing it at least hahah i hope you like it too darling and thanks for requesting! 

--

“The Master is calling in reinforcements from a bounty hunter for this mission,” The general in charge of your squad spoke as the team dressed.

“Who?”

“A Mandalorian,” The general answered.

“We don’t need a Mandalorian,” You spoke up bitterly, looking up as you finally pulled your boots on. The general sighed, used to your defiance and vocal hatred of The Mandalorian. He rolled his eyes at your attitude.

“We need all the help we can get on this,”

“I don’t need a Mandalorian,” You corrected yourself.

“I don’t care about your opinion. My word is final. And besides, there is nothing you can do he is arriving… now,”

A knock at the door turned everyone’s heads. The general nodded and it was opened to reveal the shining armour of the Mandalorian. You scowled as you watched the Mandalorian swan into the room, newly polished armour glinting in the light. You frowned and turned your attention away from him, just the sight of him made you exasperated.

You didn’t understand why The Master would want to bring him in, he was expensive and more importantly an asshole. All the hard work you and your team would put in on this mission would undoubtedly be overshadowed by him. He would be praised no end and paid a handsome fee while you would probably be berated for not meeting his standard and not get any reward for returning the princess.

It was the second attempt to get the Master’s daughter back from her kidnappers. The first time had been a complete failure and caused the gang to go into deeper hiding. It had taken weeks to locate her new location, there was no room for error this time. The princess had to be returned.

The Mandalorian had noticed you the moment he entered the room. He was surprised to see you alive at all, he’d assumed you were dead, having killed you two years prior. But here you were in a brand new system, alive and well. He didn’t say a word on the matter, he’d been paid for your bounty already, it wasn’t his fault you had miraculously survived.

You sat in silence, glaring at the Mandalorian across the room, while the General spoke about the plan for the mission. You grumbled and rolled your eyes when he made suggestions. The nerve of him. Coming here invited and not trusting your plan. The grumble earned you a sharp elbow in the ribs and a hiss to shut up.

With the plan set, you began the long trip out to the location. It was far, a days trip by speeder at least. Across plains, over mountains, through valleys and finally to the destination. A small building atop a large hill. It was strangely open, considering how long it had taken to find. The sun was going down by the time you arrived. You were apprehensive to approach so quickly, wanting to wait out but you had no power amongst this group, especially with the Mandalorian validating the plan there was no way you’d win. The group dismounted the speeders mere feet from the entrance, loaded their guns and went inside, barely stopping for a second once their feet touched the ground.

You however did not follow. Ordered to stay outside, they didn’t trust you. You were to keep watch, not that there was anything to watch for. Two years on the planet and you were still considered an outsider. Your reputation had not preceded you but it quickly caught up. Within two weeks of your arrival, whispers of your real name had floated across the galaxy until it landed into the mouth of the Master. You were allowed to stay, only if you joined the royal guard to put your skills to use.

The royal guard didn’t trust you, used you as a scapegoat on any occasion and sent you in many suicide missions purely because you were expendable. But as even the Mandalorian knew, you were very hard to kill. You came back every single time with nothing more than a scratch. Instead of your action gaining their trust it bred jealousy and mistrust.

You scuffed around the site, listening out for signs that the mission was complete or anyone was in trouble. The moon rose slowly into the sky, stars appeared with it giving you some entertainment as you tried to spot the constellations familiar to you. A twinge of anxiety cut your stomach, they should have been out long ago. You should have followed to help

Suddenly, a bone-breaking thunderous sound erupted from below and the ground began to shake. You were frozen to the spot until your spot began to fall away. The ground beneath you shook and collapsed inwards. You scrambled out the way, moving to where the ground was stable again. The building your squad had gone inside had collapsed, screams and cries of terror could be heard from inside. The building fell, then fell further. All you could do was watch in horror as where the building once stood, a crater appeared. Dust plumed from the wreck, filling your lungs and scratching your eyes. You coughed and spluttered, shielding your face from it.

Soon the dust settled and things became clearer. The devastation was all that was left. And the Mandalorian. Stood alone on the opposite side of the great crater, he looked down into the hole for a moment, thinking, before making his way around to where you were. He didn’t stop to talk to you as he passed, simply readjusting his vambrace and walking away. Disturbed by his lack of reaction it took you a moment to react, you watched him walk a few paces ahead before running after him.

“Hey!” You called after him, “Where are you going?”

“There’s no speeders. We’ll have to walk,” He said, not stopping.

“They’ll kill us if we return without the princess!” You protested.

“They’ll kill you when you don’t return with the girl,” Mando corrected you, “Unless you want to walk climb in there and search through rubble, the only thing to do is walk back,”

“It’ll take days! There’s no way you’d make it back to the city in one piece,”

“Who said I was going back there?”

“You have to finish the job,”

“The job is finished,”

“You arrogant son of a bitch,” You scoffed as he continued to walk away. He picked up his pace, “I told Illana that we didn’t need you,” You shouted angrily. Din didn’t reply, trying to block out your whinging. “You’re a waste of money, everyone knows Mandalorians don't work well in teams. There’s a reason you all got wiped out,” You snarled. That comment bristled Din. He knew you were only baiting for a fight, angry your squad had died and he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted. It wasn’t advantageous for anyone, “What happened in there? You blow it up to make the job easier? You killed them all,”

Din ignored your questioning. He hadn’t killed them, he had barely made it out alive

“She was just a child and you killed her, for what? Tell me!”

He turned when he heard the load up of a blaster behind him. Your blaster, loaded and waiting in your hand was pointed at his back while he walked ahead. He whipped around just as fast, his blaster pointed at you too.

“Really?” He asked.

“Talk,”

“It was a trap,”

“Liar!” You shouted.

“The girl was tied to some kind of trap that blew up the mines below the building. I was not in the room when the extraction happened. I didn’t do anything,” He explained, you didn’t reply, grinding your teeth as you tried to get your head around it. “Why would I kill them? I needed her alive,”

You hated that he was making sense. There was no real logical reason for him to kill the princess. He needed her alive to get his payment just as you did. You glared at him, fingers twitching over your blaster.

“Keep walking,” You said sternly. You turned the safety back on to the blaster though never lowering it. Din lowered his weapon. “I’m not having you anywhere out of my sight. Can’t trust you as far as I could throw you,”

Din huffed in agreement and turned to continue walking. Your blaster wasn’t going to do anything more than scuff his armour, he didn’t worry about you attacking him from behind. If you’d wanted to kill him you would have tried by now. Whatever made this whole ordeal go faster was what he was going to do.

You walked across the grassy plain for hours in total silence. At least outwardly silent. In your mind, you were cursing his name in every language you knew to any deity you could think of. Cursing him, his stupid armour and his stupid helmet. You cursed the planet, you cursed the city, you cursed the entire universe for forcing you to be stuck with the one man you hated most. You wished you had followed the squad and died with them, it would be more pleasant than this. At least with the pace the Mandalorian kept, you were going to be back to the city in record time, this nightmare could end.

Soon the grass gave way to shrubs and weeds, trees that were rare before now crowded around you. You came to a path, well-trodden and open, surprisingly. If it was this clear it was only a good thing, you were on the right path back.

“Stop,” You ordered as the path forked out in two directions. Din had chosen one path already, a few paces ahead. He stopped and turned around to see what the problem was. You were facing the second path, motioning with your blaster to cross over. “There’s a shortcut,” You said, “That forest opens back up in the West of the city. If memory serves me correctly it’ll cut our journey in half,”

“I don’t trust you,” Din said warily.

“Never said you had to trust me. If you carry on that way it’ll take another three days to walk around a huge lake and a ravine. This way cuts that out and we’ll be back in the city in two days,”

You walked forward into the break of trees, turning back when you didn’t hear him follow. He hadn’t moved, still calculating the decision. “Not scared are you, Mando?” You taunted him. “We don’t have much sunlight. Move,”

For a moment Din contemplated shooting you right there. You were rude and arrogant, nobody would question your death at all if he did it. His hand hovered over his blaster, before finally deciding against it. He needed the payment and with you alive at the end of it he would have proof he didn’t slaughter the entire garrison.

He followed you into the forest, walking in front of you as before. The trees were so dense, a few minutes of walking cut out all light. Spotlights of dusty yellow light broke through the canopy providing enough light inside to see your footing directly in front of you but nothing more. Roots covered the floor, winding around your ankles trying to pull you in so your body could supply nutrients for the plants. Branches caught on the Mandalorian’s shoulders, snapping back into your face often when they released. You learnt quickly to keep a few more paces back to stop the attacks.

You had heard stories about these forests. Fables told to the children in the city warning them of the dangers of the expansive green land. Most of them you knew to be just stories, but like most legends in the universe, there was truth to some. That knowledge kept you alert as you continued the walk.

Suddenly, the Mandalorian stopped in his tracks. You nearly crashed into him, not looking where you were going you were met with metal.

“Keep walking,” You ordered. He didn’t move, turning his head to look up at the canopy. You frowned, growing impatient. “What?”

“Quiet,” He hissed. You paused as you heard another shuffle you had thought to be Din moving. It was above you, beside you and behind you. Then you heard it, a shrill echoing cry from above. A cry you had been told to fear since day one on this planet.

They descended from every side. Five or six strong and lean warriors armed with metal spears and knives swarmed you and Din before you even had time to run.

A flurry of metal and blaster bolts occurred. You were quick on the draw taking two warriors quickly before another knocked your gun from your hands. It was immediately lost to the undergrowth. Dodging one strike then another you grabbed hold of one of the warrior's weapons, forcing it back on them to push them back. Pull, push, slash. A splash of blood as the spear cut into his skin and another dead.

You had one left. Flipping a small knife in his hand, the warrior snarled at you before pouncing. Taking out your own, you threw yourself at the warrior. Each attempted strike on your part was blocked effortlessly. Your advance became a backwards pace as you were slowly overpowered. The knife scraped against your vambrace as you blocked yet another strike creating sparks.

The warrior growled something in a language you didn’t understand as you stepped backwards again, finding yourself cornered to a tree. You growled and surged forward again, catching a slice to his cheek and shoulder before being pinned to the bark.

You cried out as a sharp bite pierced your skin, the warrior slipping past your armour and plunging their blade into your side as your hands came up and used your knife to slice their throat. A spray of blood hit your face as they fell to the ground. You fell backwards leaning against the tree for support as your head went light, you watched Din take out the remaining warriors. One on their spear, another with his blaster. He was surrounded by bodies but looked like he’d barely broken a sweat. He surveyed his area before finally noticing you. The ambush had happened so fast he barely had time to spare a glance in your direction to see how you were.

You grimaced as he walked over. He didn’t come close, not helping you, just watching. He saw the leather strapped blade on the ground beside you and the body next to you. You hissed as you tried to push yourself up, even minimal effort was aggravating the wound.

Your hand let go of the injury, revealing the blood to Din. You wiped it on your pant leg, laughing dryly as you looked up at him. You could barely see him, eyes hazy, even speaking was an effort as your throat was stinging with the threat of vomit. Din lurched forward holding out his hand. “I don’t need your help,” You garbled, trying again. This time you were successful, only for a moment as your world spinning and went black for a moment., “Stars above,” you gasped, falling forward into the Mandalorian. He caught you quickly before you fell to the floor.

“Where are you hurt?” He asked urgently.

“Under there,” You slurred, waving your arm weakly at your side. Your eyes were dropping, skin pale. It was the end, killed by a forest warrior’s blade with the Mandalorian by your side. Not how you wanted to go.

--

You came too in the dark. You startled, immediately on guard. The sudden movement made you cry out as pain overtook your body.

“Don’t move,” Came a gruff reply. It was the Mandalorian. Ignoring his request, you slowly pushed yourself to sit up, wincing at the pain but you couldn’t just lay there.

You then realised your armour was gone, top feeling practically bare in your undershirt. A bandage was wrapped around your ribs, soaked in blood. He had saved you.

You looked at him across the fire, confused. You had expected him to leave you for dead. You certainly should have died. Either the gods were playing a horrific joke on you by drawing out this quest with your supposed enemy or he had cared for you. You wondered how long you’d been out for. Could have been a few hours, a few days. You doubted he would care for you for that long but evidently, the bounty hunter was full of surprises.

“You should have left me,” you finally spoke. Your voice was coarse and you coughed to clear your throat. “Why’d you do that?”

He shrugged. You frowned but decided not to press the matter. You preferred living over being dead.

“How long was I out?” You asked.

“A few hours,” He replied, “Nice to have you quiet for so long,”

“Where’s my armour?”

“Here,” He said, patting the pile of metal next to him. You watched him carefully now. You needed that back if you were going to make it and didn’t entirely trust he would give it back. Parts were beskar. You knew he would try and stake a claim to it despite the fact he knew where you’d gotten it from. He’d tried it before and that had ended with you at the bottom of a rocky gorge, “I’ll give it back in the morning. You need to rest and you can’t in that,”

“It’s very important to me,” You stated.

“I know,” He said.

“How do I know you won’t take it?”

“You’ll have to trust me,” Din said. You were not about to do that. You pushed yourself to stand up, grinding your teeth to not let out the sharp pain that was splitting through your side, “Sit down,” Din ordered.

“Give me-,” As you stood up your vision went blurry, you stumbled forward into the fire pit. Luckily the Mandalorian had quick reflexes and caught you before you fell into the flames

“I didn’t save your life for you to fall into a fire,” he scolded you, helping you back to the ground. Sit,”

You shoved his hands off you and shuffled away from him. “I’ll kill you if you take it,” you grumbled.

“You would try,” Din agreed. Both of you knew you would not be a threat. While the Mandalorian had managed to flush out most of the poison some of it remained in your system. Not deadly in dosage but enough to weaken you significantly. You wouldn’t be able to get real help until you returned to the city.

Silence fell over the camp again. You stared into the fire, watching it spit and spark. A physical manifestation of your rage and embarrassment. Not only were you weak and wounded, but you were also stuck with the one person you swore would get revenge on if you ever crossed paths again. Now the only revenge you could manage was maybe to scratch his armour. You had slaughtered people, entire towns had met their end through your hands. Now your life lay in the Mandalorians’s. You hated it.

You glared at him for what felt like hours. Neither of you was going to give in to sleep, too suspicious of the other to succumb to the vulnerability. The three moons travelled slowly overhead, animals scratching around the clearing of the forest none would dare to venture into the foreign light of the Mandalorian’s fire but you could feel a thousand eyes in the darkness watching you intently.

Suddenly he stood up. Suspicious you watched him walk the short distance to you. Without warning, he passed a silver packet of food to you and walked behind you. You looked dumbly at the packet and turned your head to see what he was doing. You had barely looked over your shoulder before his gloved hand came to the side of your face, pushing you away.

“Turn around and I’ll kill you,” Din warned you.

“Ok! Kriff, calm down I don’t want to look anyway,” You scoffed at him. Somehow, his insistence that you didn’t see his face only made the idea more enticing. You heard a scuff of metal and the sound of something heavy on the grass, his helmet was off.

You kept your head straight forward, moving only to look at what you were eating. It was very similar to eating next to a wild animal, any movement you made while he ate could be your last. You knew enough about Mandalorians to know it wasn’t him being territorial but to do with his ‘creed’. They could never remove their helmets, never show their faces to anyone except family. It didn’t seem like the Mandalorian behind you had any family, there was barely a caring bone in his body. Except he had saved your life, though that was more an act of self-preservation than anything else you thought.

Din wouldn’t usually risk eating like this with someone like you nearby. There was no privacy, no guarantee you wouldn’t turn and catch him but his hunger was overtaking his logic. It had been days since he’d eaten, he was the lowest on credits in his life the small amount he’d earn from this bounty was desperately needed. If he was going to be paid at all now.

He ate quickly, wolfing down the scraps he had found in your pack. It was bland and chalky but it was food, nutrients, and that was all that mattered. He had to survive until the next. Once he finished, he picked up his helmet and placed it back on his head. Safe inside his metal shell he stood up and walked to his previous spot on the other side of the fire.

He watched you while you ate. He took in the way your skin glowed in the firelight. Wisps of unruly hair caught the light giving you a halo over your head except there was nothing angelic about you. You knew murder and destruction just as well as he did. You’d killed many and cursed more to the haunting image of your destruction. You were one of a small few in the galaxy who had survived the Mandalorian.

There was something oddly satisfying at the fact you couldn’t get away now. You couldn’t do anything if he tried to kill you again now. All your power, all your strength, was in his hands. It was a dark feeling he wanted to avoid, he didn’t think about it too much. If he’d wanted to kill you he would have left you to die.

Once you finished your food you threw the packaging into the fire and settled back. You watched the Mandalorian pick through your pack, pulling out whatever he could find useful for the rest of the travel. You knew we wouldn't find much, the thing had only been packed for a two-day trip maximum. You ached from head to toe, tired and more hungry than the nutrients bar could stave off you longed for your bed. Soft and warm it was the only good thing in this place, the only thing that had kept you here for so long. Comfort was never something you had been given freely, you were going to hold onto this one for as long as you could.

Soon you couldn’t fight sleep any longer. You lay down next to the fire, watching the Mandalorian until you could no longer keep your eyes open.

—

The next day something had shifted in your dynamic. The fact he’d saved your life had changed things. You weren’t so angry at him. He was careful with you, helping you up from the ground and you didn’t miss the way his helmet stayed on you for longer than needed as you pulled your armour back on. He’d cleaned it too, wiping off the blood and dirt from the metal.

You walked mostly in silence, Din still in front of you. You may not hate him anymore but you didn’t entirely trust him yet. He was on neutral ground as far as you were concerned. He'd tried to kill you once, he’d saved you once, They cancelled each other out and now all was left as to gain any opinion either way about who this man was. Was he a killer or was he kind? His actions thus far, surprisingly, offered the latter. Despite that, your hand never left your blaster, though not drawn it was ready in its holster if he decided to turn on you.

Every time you hissed or groaned as you walked, he would stop, look at you and check you were okay before continuing. If it wasn’t for the cold nature of his helmet it would have been endearing.

You travelled together through forest and fields, over a small mountain and down a ravine. Your legs ached, back sore from carrying your pack but at least your stab wound had gone numb. Your pain receptors were so fried now your brain was trying to forget it all together so you could survive.

You flagged behind Mando, gritting your teeth and forcing yourself forward until you couldn’t take it anymore. You let out a small cry of defeat before calling for the Mandalorian to stop. You sat on a rock above a reed bed, leaning on it with one arm while the other pried your armour from your body. Din stopped walking as soon as he heard you.

“I need to rest for a bit,” You admitted, struggling with your straps. One-handed it was impossible to get them off but if you didn’t you couldn’t breathe. You pulled and tugged at the buckles until you were stopped by the Mandalorian’s gloved hand on yours.

“I’ll do it,” He said quietly. You moved your hand, turning a little to let him have better access to the buckles holding the metal to your body.

You didn’t say a word, knowing you couldn’t do it by yourself. His skilled fingers worked the buckles open and pulled the chest pieces away from your body. There was care in his touch, his fingers momentarily gracing over your exposed skin for a moment. The light touch sent shivers down your spine. You turned your head for fear of showing just how affected you were by his touch. You sighed in relief when the weight was gone and the strain on your muscles was decreased.

“Thank you,” You mumbled.

“We can set up camp here for the night,”

“It’s not even dark,” You protested, “Give me a few minutes we can keep walking. It’s not safe out in the open like this,”

“You’re in pain,”

“I’ll be in pain wherever we are,” You said, “There are caves just over there, it will be safer to stay there,”

“That’ll be two hours walk,”

“I can do it,”

“I’m tired too. We’re staying here,” He said, “You can bathe in the river, clean the wound again,”

“Mando-,” You protested.

He wasn’t listening anymore. He’d set down the weapons on his back and set to creating a fire. If it was going to be as cold as last night you were going to need one.

You were silently relieved. Your entire body was screaming for a break, the wound throbbing so much you could have thrown up. You needed to rest. You knew you weren’t far from the city now, it was on the other side of the pass, you could see ships land and take off in the distance, specks leaving white trails in the sky. You would be back by the next evening, you predicted. Only one day left free of consequences.

As the decision had been made to stay by the river for the night, you decided you could get out of your armour again. You sat up slowly, leaning to one side to avoid putting pressure on the wound on your side. You piled the pieces up next to the rock.

Din was still busy searching for suitable wood, a good distance away from you you decided it was safe to strip off and explore the water you could hear behind the reed bed. You pulled aside the plants, creating a path for yourself and revealing a beautiful stream. The water was crystal clear, reflecting the sunset colours above you.

You waded into the water, holding up your tunic so it didn’t get wet. The current wasn’t strong, stones were stable under your feet and you let yourself walk further into the river until it got to your hips. Creatures in the water scattered as your legs invaded their home. You pulled your tunic over your head, throwing the fabric back onto the riverbank, then untied the Mandalorians bandages leaving them with the tunic too. The cool water soothed your aching muscles, washing away the sweat and dry blood as it passed over your skin. You groaned at the heavenly feeling before dipping down under the surface, letting the world melt away in the stream.

Din returned to find you missing. He dropped the sticks he’d found and looked around for you. He hadn’t heard a struggle, he’d have seen someone if you’d been taken. He spotted your armour in a pile while you’d been lay, too neat to be stripped of you in a hurry you must have taken it off. None of his weapons missing either. Then he heard your voice from behind the tall reeds surrounding the lazy river, a pained groan. He was quick to action fearing you’d fallen and been hurt again. He barrelled through the reeds, nearly falling down the riverbank into the water until he saw you. Entirely naked, facing away from him, standing waist-deep in the cool water. Every scar, every bruise, every lump and bump was on view under the golden sun instantly transfixing Din.

He didn’t want to stare but he couldn’t bring his eyes away from the view. Drenched in golden light, your wet skin sparkled. His eyes fell slowly down your body, his own body was fighting between leaving you alone and joining you in the water. Your shadow cast on the opposite bank of reeds showed a broken image of everything you had hidden.

“Can you pass me my clothes when you’re done staring please Mando?” You spoke up suddenly, looking over your shoulder with a smirk on your lips. Din startled, snapping himself out of the trance he’d fallen into, nearly falling in the water. He coughed and spluttered, the sound coming out strangely through his vocoder, which made you laugh. He nodded, muttering something you couldn’t hear before disappearing back through the reeds to retrieve your clothes.

You were used to washing with no privacy. Being in the places you’d been, privacy was a luxury. You could ignore the lustful stares men gave but something about Din watching you set you on edge, it excited you. You couldn’t see his face, couldn’t tell where he was looking but his vision bore like laser’s into your skin. You felt electric. He could have watched forever and you wouldn’t mind at all.

You dunked under the cold water, cleaning yourself and cooling off the heat of your body. You found your clothes laid out on the bank, where Din had been standing before. You smiled, dried off and dressed before re-emerging from the reeds.

The sun was going down now, barely a sliver above the horizon. Stars came out, colouring the night sky with constellations. The Mandalorian had a good fire going. A field rat hung over the flames cooking away.

“Sit close to the fire so you can dry off properly,” He said as you approached. You smiled and nodded, feeling brave enough to sit next to him rather than across as you had done the other night. He was opposed to your decision and didn’t move when you settled down next to him in the grass. “The wound looked like it's healing well,” He said after a moment of quiet.

“That’s all you were looking at?” You asked with a smirk.

“I didn’t mean to pry,” He apologised, a little ashamed at his voyeurism.

“I didn’t say I minded,” You smiled, sweet on the surface but the wicked fire in your eyes told him exactly what he wanted. He shivered under your gaze and moved quickly to get away from your scrutiny, turning his attention to stoking the fire again. You laughed to yourself and settled back onto your elbows to watch the stars.

This night was so different from the one before. You didn’t watch him so intently, trusting that he wouldn’t suddenly try to rob you or kill you. You were relaxed, as much as you could in the circumstances. Your earlier question of the character of the Mandalorian was slowly being answered. He was a mixture of good and kind, and cold and calculated. You couldn’t forget how viciously he had attacked you all those years ago, how bloody and raw those warriors had been left in the forest. But simultaneously you couldn’t forget his kindness in saving you, his care for your wellbeing as you walked today. How bashful he became when you confronted him about his peeping. You could hear the embarrassment in his voice. If he was a cold and heartless killer like you thought him to be, he would not take your teasing. He wouldn’t be embarrassed. No, this Mandalorian much like everyone else was complicated. Under that beskar somewhere lay a man, who unfortunately you were starting to like.

You couldn’t hate him. Not when he had found and cooked food for you to share. Din had pulled the field rat off the spit, opened it up and pulled out the cooked meat. He passed you half before collecting his own. You initially curled your lip at the charred remains in your lap but there was no other choice. It was that or starve.

Din opened his mouth to speak, to tell you to stay put as he sat behind you but was astounded at how quickly you’d turned your back on him giving him the privacy he needed. Metal hit the ground with a thud, you stayed perfectly still. Din noticed instantly, his chest becoming heavy as he saw your fear. You had been friendly all day, talking as if you were friends but the way you sat in front of him like caught prey reminded him that wasn’t the case.

You surprised him, it was rare for people to understand so quickly, let alone someone like you. Someone who hated him, had tried to kill him, usually, they’d mock him and refuse unless he threatened them, like he’d done to you last night. You didn’t say a word. You respected him.

So, he ate slower. Taking the time to enjoy his food, as much as you can enjoy slightly burnt field rat. He picked at the meat, pulling it apart with his fingers. His quiet groan of pleasure at the taste of his food made your ears prick and hair stand up on edge. You’d teased him for watching you in the river, but if he sat behind you and made sounds like that you were going to have to do something. Call it Stockholm syndrome, some kind of weird lapse of judgement due to the stress of your predicament but you found yourself liking the Mandalorian. He had tried to kill you before, he should terrify you, but the fact he was such a mystery, and a dangerous one at that, made him all the more enticing.

Din didn’t miss the way you’d pricked up at the noise he’d made. He didn’t mean to, it had just slipped from his lips. A new kind of hunger took over him as he finished his meal. He wanted you. The memory of you in the river cast over him. He wondered how soft your skin would feel, fresh from the mineral waters you’d bathed in. You smelt so fresh from where he was sitting, how much better would it be with his nose in your hair. He’d been hungry for days, but this hunger had gone unsolved for months, he could hardly remember the last time he’d held someone, kissed someone, fucked someone.

Without realising it Din had moved closer to you. His hands ghosted over your hair, wanting desperately to run his fingers through it. He wanted to touch you, to feel you. He leant over, just outside your peripheral vision and placed a kiss on your cheek. It was short, shorter as you startled at the sudden touch. Din retreated quickly, your sudden movement startling him too.

“What was that?” You asked sharply. Din frowned, instantly regretting his action. To his surprise, you didn’t make a move to look at him.

“Wh-what do you mean?” He stuttered, all confidence draining from his body.

“Kiss me properly if you’re going to kiss me,” you said confidently. A simple touch of his lips to your cheek had set you alight, you were startled but didn’t want him to stop.

Din grinned in the dark and surged forward to kiss you properly. The sharp scratch of stubble surprised you as he kissed you. His lips were soft as passion dripped into your mouth as your mouth opened to him in a gasp. The Mandalorian pulled you closer, turning you to face him properly. You hissed in pain when his hand brushed over your wound. He whispered an apology, moving down to your jaw. His nose brushed along your jaw taking in the clean and earthy scent of you.

His kiss travelled down your neck. The burn of his stumble on your soft skin made you sigh and open up to him more. Din could feel himself falling into you, your scent and taste, the noises that you were making just from his kisses were driving him insane. He could stop if he needed but he didn’t want to. He could trust you.

His hands stroked down your arms, taking your wrist into his grip. He continued his assault on your neck as he lifted it. He placed your hand over your eyes, holding your wrist tight to keep it in place. His warm hand over yours was oddly comforting.

“Move your hand and I stop, yes?” He whispered in your ear, his hot breath tickling you and sending a shiver up your spine, “I don’t want to kill you, but I will,”

“I understand,”

--

If there was any way you could have predicted the ending of your adventure with the Mandalorian there would be no way you could have predicted the events of the previous night.

He was good. Surprisingly good. You were a little shocked, having thought he was some celibate mercenary monk type character, but he knew what he was doing. If there weren’t stars above you, he’d made you see more. He was careful not to hurt you but didn’t hold out. Edges of your previous hatred for one another dipped in, adding so much to the event. You woke up sore in a completely different and entirely satisfying way.

You set out for the final stretch of the journey with a smile on your face. Your blaster was left alone in its holster and the Mandalorian walked beside you. You trusted him.

The final stretch was the most challenging. Through a rocky ravine, you had to climb over boulders and through tight passes. If you could have gone over you would, but the hundred-foot sheer cliff faces took that option away from you pretty fast. The Mandalorian walked slower to allow you to keep up, taking hold of your chest armour when the weight became too much to take anymore. You still couldn’t understand the reasoning behind his kindness but accepted it easily. He wouldn’t leave you more than ten foot behind, despite your insistence on leaving you to catch up on your own he refused and waited for you before enforcing a rest stop so you could catch your breath and continue. After hours of walking through the rocky pass, red stone finally gave way to green grass and blue sky once more.

You saw the city gates on the horizon and your heart began to ache. You had almost forgotten what you were walking back to. You had to tell the Master that his daughter was dead, that your entire team was burnt alive and you were the only survivor. You were dead for sure. Being the outsider anyway put you on rocky ground, this would be the final straw.

Din could sense your nervousness. Even if you didn’t express it verbally, he knew you were anxious to return. He thought you were brave for doing so, but you didn’t have a choice. If you ran you could never stay hidden from the Master. You were dead either way, at least if you brought yourself in you could argue your case.

Citizens lined the wall of the city, flags waving and cheering songs danced on the breeze as soon as you and the Mandalorian were spotted. You walked through the outlying villages with heads hung low as the people ran up to you expecting their princess in tow. When they saw the two of you alone their cries of joy turned to silence.

You reached the city gates and it seemed nobody had noticed, bells rang out and drums echoes from inside. Children waved from the wall, happy and excited to see you. The whispers started, turned into murmurs and soon the yells of praise and joy were spitting insults and exclamations of pain. People yelled out questions, what had happened to the princess, where was she, who’d killed the princess. Why hadn’t you saved her? Your heart sunk, you couldn’t lift your eyes from the ground as you and the Mandalorian were escorted to the palace.

Din always hated a failed mission, letting targets getaway in mistakes was what kept him up at night, but this was so much worse. He didn’t have any personal connection to the girl but the vitriol spat at you and him as you walked through was tough to take. He kept his head up, trying to think of a plan for what might happen next.

The news of your failure had spread fast, arriving at the Master’s feet before you did. You knelt at his throne, the Mandalorian standing beside you.

“What news do you bring?” The Master asked. He didn’t need your answer, he just wanted to watch you squirm.

“I am afraid we were unsuccessful Master. An accident occurred at the camp and we two are the only survivors of the event. There was no way of recovering your daughter, I apologise,” You said finally looking up at him. Your voice was calm, collected and confident. There was nothing you could do now, it didn’t matter whether you were visibly upset or not.

“Mandalorian? Do they speak the truth?”

“Yes. Charges were set in the mines beneath the location and set as soon as we arrived,” He elaborated.

“I appreciate the aide Mandalorian, however without a successful return of my daughter I cannot pay you,” The master said. Din nodded, having expected as much, “Guards arrest L/n,”

“I assure you we did everything we could to get your daughter, none of this was their fault,” Din insisted.

“You are dismissed, Mando,” The Master ordered. Din didn’t move, his blaster raised at the guards approaching, standing between you and them to protect you.

“Stop it,” You hissed at him, alarmed that he was putting his survival at risk for you.

“Put the blaster down, Mandalorian. You are far outnumbered here. I suggest you leave me while you still can unless you would like to join L/n in front of a firing squad,”

“It’s not worth it,” You whispered, as you pushed yourself to stand up. You gritted your teeth as pain shot through you. You both knew this was how it would end, there was no other way, “I accept my fate,” You spoke loud enough for everyone else to hear. Din didn’t accept it, he refused to. He had only just got you into his life, whatever the relationship was between you two he wasn’t going to let you die for something that wasn’t your fault.

You were surrounded inside the palace. Din’s defiance was only drawing more soldiers in. The chances of either you or Din coming out alive were drawing in. You knew the Mandalorian was worth more, something inside you told you he had a great destiny before him. While our crossed paths had arrived at a pleasant spot you would like to continue, if that was the final destination of your lives then you wouldn’t be the one pulling him to a halt with you.

You stepped into the Mandalorian’s vision, soldiers drawing closer, and you placed your hand over his blaster. You looked directly into his visor, staring directly into his eyes. You didn’t have to speak, he knew it was over. Slowly, Din lowered his weapon and stepped back. With his hands up he nodded to the Master who smiled smugly and gave you one last look. As soon as the Mandalorian walked away the guards were on you, hands roughly tugged behind your back and into harsh cuffs.

Din didn’t look back. Couldn’t. If he did he would do something he would regret. The Master’s voice echoed out of the Palace doors relaying your sentence. You were to be executed at sundown. Din pulled himself into a comfortable stoic calm, and indifference forced upon himself to allow him to carry on. He walked out of the city with nothing. Penniless, hungry and alone.

The Razor Crest provided some comfort as it always did. No matter what changed around his outside could always be corrected inside the silver confines of his ship. He had enough fuel to get him to the next populated planet, hopefully, he would find work there to get food. He settled into the cockpit, flicking through maps for a while to see where he could go. After a while, the exhaustion of not sleeping properly for three days caught up and Din fell asleep in the pilot seat.

--

“Oi! Mando! Open up!” Hard rock being thrown at the front of the Crest and the sound of your voice startled him awake. It was dark now, the moon high in the sky above him. Din’s heart sunk, it was just a dream. You were gone now.

He let himself wonder for a moment if he could have done more, knowing that probably wasn’t true. The galaxy had a way of making things work out the way they should no matter what he did. He settled back against his chair again, head resting on his chest when something slammed against the side of the ship and shouted for him again and he knew he wasn’t dreaming.

He did a double-take when he saw you at the door. Dishevelled and breathing heavily, you grinned up at him. “I thought you were dead,” He said.

“I will be if you don’t let me in in a minute,” You looked over your shoulder as speeder lights approached over the brim of the hill. Din had barely stepped aside before you barreled into the ship.

He stared at you in the low light of the hull. confused by the image you presented. Your armour was half missing, only your chest plates and one thigh plate remained and you were covered in blood. You were not only alive but you had fought well for it. Considering the state you had been in just hours before, barely able to stand up unaided, he was astonished.

“What? It’s not my blood if you’re worried about that,” You wiped your face with the back of your hand then wiping it on your pant leg. “Hurry up and get this ship in the sky. We need to go right now,”

A blaster shot ricochet off the side of the Crest, the sound of bikes coming closer, setting Din back into motion. He raced back up to the cockpit to set off. You followed quickly and watched as the Mandalorian set to getting the ship into the air while under attack. You jumped into the seat behind him, giddy with excitement as the weight of what you had just done inside the city walls had not yet settled in. You were high on adrenaline. The engines roared into life and suddenly the Mandalorian turned back to look at you.

“I’m glad you’re not dead,” He said.

“I’m glad I’m not dead too,” you smiled, warmth spreading through your body at the sentiment,  “now please can we go,” A shot hit the front window making you duck instinctively. “Go!”

--

happy may the fourth guys!! omg i missed writing din so much!! 

tags: @beskar-falcon @peterssweetpea @beskarbabs @wille-zarr @this-cat-is-dea  @dameronology @fandom-blackhole @artsymaddie​

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