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#willow taylor swift
beskarandblasters · 10 months
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Wherever You Stray, I Follow
Din Djarin x F!Reader
Inspired by Willow by Taylor Swift
Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist
Summary: You’re the daughter of a senator on Coruscant and you’ve been set up in an arranged marriage to another senator’s son for both your father and his father’s political gain. Your father hires Din Djarin to transport you to Naboo where you’re supposed to meet your fiancé’s family and prepare for the wedding. On the trip to Naboo you form a relationship together in secret but after you arrive on Naboo he’s hired to be your bodyguard up until the wedding. But will you actually go though with the wedding? That’s for you and Din to decide.
Word count: 10k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, no Grogu, Din still has the Razor Crest, arranged marriage, your family sucks, your fiancé is a dick, infidelity, fingering, vaginal sex, cockwarming, creampie, semi public sex? (idk they do it on a balcony), canon typical violence, helmetless Din, use of Mando'a words/phrases (translations included immediately after), also a "made up" Mando'a phrase (alor'ika = princess, I took alor which is ruler and added the suffix, ika), pretty sure the travel times used are not accurate but fuck it we ball LMAO, no use of y/n
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“I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night
Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife
And if it was an open-shut case
I never would've known from that look on your face
Lost in your current like a priceless wine”
You gaze down at the sea of speeders beneath you as you stand on your balcony on Coruscant. The industrialized planet is a far cry from your home, Savareen. You never thought in your wildest dreams you would miss the deserts and the oceans of your home planet but now that you moved to Coruscant you’re missing it now more than ever. Your father decided he wanted a career in politics so he moved your family to Coruscant. You definitely could live on your own back home but your father wanted everyone together for his “political image” or whatever. 
You hear your father calling your name behind you so you look over your shoulder to find him and an unknown man standing across the room. 
“I want to introduce you to Senator Lokato,” he says. 
You turn to walk over to them, and notice that Senator Lokato is wearing the typical senator “uniform”; dark colored robes that go all the way down to the floor. Senator Lokato’s are a dark gray and your father’s are navy blue. It’s weird seeing your father trying to fit in with these types of people. 
“Hello. Nice to meet you,” you say awkwardly, not really understanding what your business was with him.
“I know you’ve been struggling to make friends and meet others your age here so we thought you’d like to meet his son.”
“...Okay,” you say hesitantly, following them down the hallway and into your parent’s living room. 
There’s a man sitting on the couch who you can only assume is Senator Lokato’s son. He’s about your age, maybe a few years older. He rises when he sees you and walks to meet you in the middle of the room. 
“I’m Valsi. Pleased to meet a lovely lady like yourself,” he says, giving you a suggestive smirk. 
Maybe you would be flattered by his forward nature if he weren’t so… plain looking. He’s a little taller than you, a tad muscular and just so… plain. He’s got the kind of eyes that are just soulless and he bares a striking resemblance to his father. 
“Nice to meet you, too,” you offer politely. 
“Well, we’ll let you two get to know each other,” Senator Lokato says, clapping his hands together.
“Yes, have fun you two!” your father says a bit too cheerily before leaving with Lokato.
“Please, sit,” Valsi says… in your own home. 
You sit on the couch, keeping your body language tight and uninviting. The more you see of this guy the more you realize you’re not gonna want anything to do with him.
“I’m not sure what your father has told you but I have family on Naboo. We could raise the children there, of course. We can bring them to visit Savareen, too. But… a more civilized place like Naboo is better. And Coruscant is too busy for small children. Maybe we could relocate here when they’re older? But-”
“Excuse me?” you ask. You were zoning out at the sound of his monotone voice until he started mentioning children. 
“Well of course we’re going to have children?” he says, in a tone that makes it sound like you’re the stupid one.
“Of course we’re going to have children? We don’t know each other. I literally just met you today,” you snap back. 
“Oh, I see. Your father didn’t tell you. We’re getting married.”
“You’re funny if you think I’m getting married to you,” you laugh.
“You can laugh all you want but our fathers already made a deal. We get married in a month,” he says, folding his arms.
The realization is settling in. Your father was trying to get you to “make friends” alright. He’s trying to sell you off to some man for his own political game. You should’ve seen this coming. Ever since your father has become a member of the Senate he’s been obsessed with perfecting his image and gaining more public approval.
“You might be okay being a puppet for your father but I’m certainly not,” you snap, getting up and storming over to the door. 
As you enter the hallway you see your father and Lokato who were clearly listening in on your interaction. You scoff at them both and stomp off your bedroom.
“She’ll come around,” you hear your father say softly before closing the sliding door behind you. 
You fall into your bed and start crying; the weight of everything hitting you all at once. Between being forced to leave your home planet, moving to a strange new place and now all of a sudden being shoved into an arranged marriage you’re feeling completely hopeless. 
Eventually you drift off to sleep, your own tears aiding you in the process. Your dreams are filled with your home planet and of travels all on your own, with no one forcing you to go anywhere or do anything. It almost feels too real because when you wake up you forget the horrors of reality for a moment. 
You get changed into a silky pale blue dress before returning to the living room. That was another thing about your father’s new found political life; your wardrobe was completely different. Gone were the days of flowy pants, boots and earth tones. Now your wardrobe consists of extravagant gowns, robes and jewelry. It’s all very beautiful and maybe just maybe you could enjoy your new look if it wasn’t being forced upon you. 
You find your father sitting on the couch, reading something on his holo-pad. When he notices your presence he looks up and shoots you a faux sympathetic glance. You sit on the opposite end of the couch silently, not even knowing what to say to the man who’s trying to strip you of your bodily autonomy. 
“I’m sorry, my dear. I just think this is what’s best for us. The Lokatos are very well off. You’ll be set for life,” he says, setting the holo-pad down on the table in front of him.
“You’re forcing me to marry someone I don’t know… let alone even love! I really don’t care how rich they are,” you say, folding your arms. 
“It’s for the best. Especially if you want to maintain this new lifestyle that you’ve become accustomed to.”
“You mean the one that you forced upon us? If I were up to me I would be home right now,” you fight back.
He sighs, not looking to listen to any more of your protests. 
“Look, Valsi left today to go visit his family on Naboo. After he gets some business sorted there you’re going to meet him. You’ll be leaving tomorrow. I’ve hired someone to take you there, some Mandalorian. You leave tomorrow.”
You scoff and get up, retreating to your room where you go to bed again, wallowing in your own sadness until you decide to pack for the next day. Your parents call you for dinner but you decline, not wanting to see them but also too upset to eat. You go to bed that night and have a dream that this Mandalorian takes you anywhere else but Naboo. It’s a shame really. You’ve heard how beautiful Naboo is and under any other circumstances you’d be jumping at the chance to go. But when you’re going under the pretense of meeting your arranged husband and his family, you can think of a million other places you’d rather be. 
You wake up the next morning and get ready for your journey, the nerves brewing in your stomach. You meet your father in the living room again without saying a word to him. He sends for a servant to collect your bag before leading you to the docking bay. You don’t say a word to him the whole way there. He makes attempts at small talk, telling you how much you’re going to love Naboo and how you’re going to have such a good time. But you can’t be bothered to entertain him. 
You reach the docking bay and in front of you is a large ship; a Razor Crest your father tells you. The exit ramp opens and that’s when you see him walking towards you; a Mandalorian in full beskar, silver and shiny. He has a sort of confidence about him when he walks that commands the attention of anyone nearby. 
“Mando!” your father says happily as he stops in front of the both of you, “Thanks for agreeing to do this.”
“Half the credits, the other half after the job is done, right?” he says, making no time for pleasantries. His modulated voice scratches an itch in your brain you didn’t know was there. 
“O-of course,” your father stutters, pulling out a small bag from his robes. 
The Mandalorian takes it and nods with a slight tip of his helmet. 
“Let’s go,” he says curtly, turning and walking back towards the Razor Crest. 
He seems… unpleasant. And you’re going to have to spend several days with him alone holed up in this ship. Great. 
Your father goes for a hug but you rebuff him, walking to the ship without looking back. The servant follows with your bags and drops them off before leaving. The Mandalorian closes the exit ramp and retreats to the cockpit without saying a word. You follow him and sit in the passenger seat. You watch him prepare the ship for takeoff while he doesn’t say a single word to you. So offer some conversation.
“So… Do you always do stuff like this?” you ask.
“Stuff like what?” he replies, not looking at you.
“Transporting people around.”
“No. I’m a bounty hunter.”
“Really? How’d you get roped into this?”
“Credits,” he says plainly.
“Hope that it was worth it…” you grumble under your breath.
He turns his seat around and the T-shaped visor practically burns a hole into you. You can’t see his face but you can feel his stone cold gaze and it sends shivers through you.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
You’re taken aback. Is he actually offended by your snide little comment?
“You’re bringing me to Naboo to meet my soon-to-be husband. The whole thing is a forced, arranged marriage. Did you know that?” you say defensively, folding your arms across your chest.
“No, I don’t ask questions like that. All I need to know is that I’m bringing a princess to Naboo and how much I’ll be paid.”
“I’m not a princess,” you scoff.
“Whatever you say, princess,” he says, turning to face the control panel again.
You let out an exasperated sigh and he finishes preparing the ship for takeoff. He straps himself in and asks if you’re strapped in, too. 
“You buckled up, princess?” 
“Yup.”
He takes off and you look at Coruscant below as you leave, pretending you’re going anywhere you want and not with some grumpy Mandalorian. 
Once you’ve left the atmosphere you ask, “So how long is it going to be until we get to Naboo?”
“About seven standard days,” he says nonchalantly.
Great. Seven days of being holed up in this cramped ship with him. 
He makes the jump to lightspeed and you’re enveloped in a cool blue glow.
“You can unbuckle now. I’ve set an auto pilot course for Naboo. We shouldn’t need to stop for fuel if all goes well.”
Pretty much as soon as he said the word “unbuckle” you were leaving the cockpit to go stretch your legs. You only half listened to the rest of what he’s saying. To be honest, you don’t really care for him. 
You pace up and down the storage area of the Crest for what feels like forever, wondering what kinds of weapons and gadgets he has stowed away in there. You sit on some crates and mess around on your holo-pad for a while. It’s really fucking boring and Mando isn’t one for small talk. 
He keeps to himself mostly, periodically checking in on you as you keep yourself entertained. He doesn’t really have an opinion on you just yet. He assumes you think he doesn’t like you but that’s just how he is with everyone; a little standoffish. He watches you as you pace the storage area and tries to ignore the way your hips sway when you walk; or the way your brows furrow when you read something on your holo-pad. You’re just so… cute to him, in your pretty dress that hugs your figure perfectly. In all honesty, he feels bad for you, too. Once he learned you were set to be in an arranged marriage his apathy towards you started shifting into something else. 
Eventually it’s the end of the first day cycle and he realizes you should probably get to bed soon. He sits beside you on a crate you’re reading your holo-pad on and says gently, “You need to sleep.”
He half expected a snarky response or some form of protest from you but you just yawn and let out a soft, “Okay.”
He leads you to the cot across the room in a little cubby. 
“It’s a little small but it should be alright for you,” he says.
“What about you? Where are you going to sleep?” you ask. 
His chest gets tight over your concern for him. 
“Don’t worry about me.”
“But where are you going to sleep?” you ask, not letting it go.
“...The floor? Or maybe in one of the seats in the cockpit,” he says reluctantly. 
“That’s ridiculous. Just sleep in here with me.”
His mind is spinning at the thought of sleeping on the cot with you. But he also wants to respect your personal space. You’re engaged to someone else whether it’s arranged or not.
As if you could read his mind you say, “We’re both adults here. I wouldn’t suggest it if I wasn’t comfortable with it.”
“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath. 
You excuse yourself to the refresher to change into your pajamas; a soft oversized shirt and a pair of sleep shorts. He removes his armor and weapons in the meantime, leaving only his flight suit and his helmet on. You crawl into the cot with him and it’s a tight squeeze. You figure out the most comfortable position is him spooning you, his large arm draped over your side. You get a glimpse of his gloveless hand and make a mental note of his skin tone; the only indication you have of what he looks like underneath all the beskar. It’s large and calloused, most likely from years of working with his hands. 
“So… Do you ever take the helmet off?” you ask. 
“Only when I’m alone.”
“So if I wasn’t here right now, you could take it off,” you say, feeling guilty. 
He doesn’t say anything. If he answers with a yes you’re just going to feel bad. And it isn’t your fault. He chose to follow the creed. 
“I should sleep somewhere else. Just so you can take that thing off and have a chance to really breathe,” you say, starting to get up.
His arm around you tightens. He doesn’t want you to leave. It’s nice having someone else to lay with; to sleep with, regardless of the fact you’re engaged to someone else. 
“Shh, it’s okay,” he says softly, “I’m used to it.”
“...Are you sure?”
“Yes, mesh’la. Go to sleep.”
Mesh’la? What does that mean? You feel sleep overtaking you so you decide to ask in the morning. You drift off to sleep with the sounds of his modulated breathing soothing you.
He wakes up before you and admires how peaceful you look, eyes closed and lashes fanned out against your face. He could stay there for a while, taking in all of your beauty but he needs to get up and check on the autopilot. He gets out of the cot; careful to not disturb you. He replaces his armor and his weapons before retreating to the cockpit. He checks to make sure the Crest is still on course and tries to ignore the excitement brewing in his stomach.
You wake up in the morning and he’s gone. You’re shocked for a moment but then you remember he’s probably just in the cockpit. You get up and stretch before going to meet him in the cockpit. The blue light whizzing by around you makes it feel like it’s not morning; like no time has passed. You sit in one of the passenger seats, not saying a word to him. 
“How did you sleep?” he asks softly. 
“Good… How did you sleep?”
“Good,” he says awkwardly. 
“Okay well… I think I’m gonna use the refresher?” you say, more so in an asking tone. 
“Go right ahead,” he says, turning his seat to face you. 
You catch a glimpse of your reflection in his helmet and notice your bedhead. Feeling embarrassed you retreat to the refresher and spend a while in there, letting the warm water soothe you. You change into a new dress when you’re done, this one lower cut than the one from yesterday. You step out of the refresher and back into the storage area, almost bumping right into him. 
“Oh, sorry,” you apologize. 
But he doesn’t say a word, admiring your beauty once again; fresh faced with wet hair… and of course the hint of cleavage peeking out from your dress. 
Why isn’t he saying anything? you wonder, Did I do something to upset him?
“Y-you should eat,” he says, tripping on his words ever so slightly.
“Okay…You should, too.”
“Okay,” he says, turning to grab some rations for both of you.
“We just have to eat separately,” he says.
“Of course! Where do you want me?”
Against me, under me, he thinks to himself.
“You stay out here. I’ll go on the cot and shut the door,” he says.
You nod and he hands you your ration before going into the cubby and closing the door. You sit on the floor and lean back against it, wanting to feel close to him for some strange reason… And then you realize your own apathy towards him is melting away and changing into something else, too. But you can’t put your finger on what.
He sits on his cot and removes his helmet. You can hear the hiss of the modulator through the door and your mind races with ideas of what he looks like. 
“I’m against the door… I just wanted it to feel like we were eating together.”
His heart flutters. “That’s okay, mesh’la,” he says, using the nickname subconsciously. 
“No more princess, huh?” you tease, but also listen carefully to his helmetless, unmodulated voice. 
He almost chokes on his food at your boldness. “Well uh, you said you weren’t a princess…”
“That’s right. I’m not. But what does mesh’la mean?”
He has two options. He could tell you the truth… or he could lie. What are the chances of you meeting another Mandalorian anyway? But he doesn’t want to lie to you of all people. You deserve someone who’s honest and good to you.
“It’s… Mando’a for beautiful,” he says, wincing at your response. At least, you can’t see how flustered he’s getting. 
“Oh… thank you, Mando,” you respond. That’s the first time you’ve used any sort of nickname to address him. And he takes note of that.
“Does that make you uncomfortable?” he asks.
“No! Not at all. You’re very sweet.”
He relaxes a bit and you two talk while you eat, getting to know each other a bit more. You could sit and listen to his unmodulated voice tell you stories for hours. But eventually you’re both done eating and you hear him get up. You stand up, too and hear the hiss of the modulator once again. He opens the door and you both stare at each other for a moment, both surprised at your connection and concern for one another. He goes back up to the cockpit and sits in the pilot seat. You grab your holo-pad and follow him, sitting in one of the passenger seats in silence. Except this time, it’s a comfortable silence. And that was the start of Mando’s mysterious, protective nature breaking down the walls you put up around you. 
You fall into a routine during the rest of your traveling days. You sit in the cockpit together in comfortable silence. You sleep pressed up against each other. Your touch and gaze begin to linger. You grow more and more comfortable with each other; so comfortable that you almost forget you’re on your way to meet your fiancé and his family. 
But at night when you’re sleeping in Mando’s arms you don’t have a care in the world. You’ve grown so accustomed to sleeping with him that you know you’ll miss this when it’s over. It’s the same position every night, your back flush against his chest and his arm around your waist. And also… his hard length pressed against your butt and lower back. He wasn’t hard the first night most likely because he was so nervous. But as you both grew more comfortable you noticed the hardness more and more. You’ve never said anything about it. You didn’t want to embarrass him. 
But now it's your last night together. You’ll arrive on Naboo in the morning and your time together will be over. And you’ve come to the conclusion that you want Mando. Even if you won’t have him again after tonight. So when his cock goes hard against your back you push your butt into him, taking him by surprise. 
“...What are you doing, mesh’la?”
“What do you think I’m trying to do?” you ask suggestively. 
“But you’re engaged, mesh’la,” he says quietly, defeated even.
“But I don’t want him, Mando. I don’t even know him. I was forced into this blindly. And if I have to go be with him tomorrow… I want one last good time; one last good night with you.” 
“Okay, mesh’la. Anything for you.”
And with his approval you’re pushing your butt back into him as his bare hand grabs your hip. He pulls into you, cock pressing hard against you as you ache for more touch. You rest your back on the cot and he takes the opportunity to hover over you. His hand trails up your thigh and hooks onto the waistband on your shorts. He pulls them off in one swift motion before spreading your thighs apart. His large fingers tease your entrance which was getting wetter by the second. He swept his fingers up your core, marveling how ready you were for him. He brings his thumb to your clit before moving the helmet against your face so could whisper in your ear. 
“I bet you wanted this every night, didn’t you mesh’la?”
You whimper in response, the featherlight touch of his fingers driving you insane. 
“Please. I need more.”
“What’s that?” he teases, “Are you begging for me, cyar’ika?”
You’re too horny and frustrated to retain any sort of pride now so you nod, begging even more.
“Yes. Yes, I am. Please, Mando, I need more.”
He plunges his index finger into you without warning, working your walls as your moans fill the small space.
“Look at you, cyar’ika. Already a mess just from one finger,” he purrs.
“What does that one mean? you ask. 
“Sweetheart,” he whispers against your ear just as he slips in another finger eliciting a loud moan from you. 
He curls them upwards and brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing small, fast circles around it as waves of pleasure shoot through your body. You feel your muscles tense up in anticipation of relief and you know you’re close to finishing. 
“I’m close, Mando,” you whine. 
“Din,” he says. 
“Hmm?” you ask, too far gone to form a complete question. 
“My name is Din, Din Djarin. Call me by my name when you cum, cyar’ika.”
All you can do is whimper in response. But that isn’t good enough for him. He stops swirling his thumb around your clit and slows his fingers inside of you. 
“What was that, cyar’ika?” he teases, moving his fingers painstakingly slow. 
“Y-yes, Din,” you say in between labored breaths. 
“Good girl,” he praises before picking up the pace again. 
Your hands grip the edges of the cot for purchase as you roll your hips against him, desperate for his complete touch. He rests on the back of his heels and brings his hand to your abdomen, right above where his fingers are inside you and where your g-spot is. He pushes his fingers against it inside you and presses down on your abdomen ever so gently, pleasuring your g-spot internally and externally. Between the three different spots of stimulation you’re at the brink of orgasm again. And this time he lets you have it, making a mess beneath you on the cot and soaking his hand down to his wrist.
“Din, I’m coming,” you moan, arching your back up against him. 
“That’s right, cyar’ika. Cum on my fingers. Just like that,” he says, bringing his helmet by your ear once more. 
Your cunt convulses around his fingers in rhythmic waves before eventually stopping. He watches you writhe in pleasure and feels a sense of pride knowing he got you to cum hard like that. He waits until you’re finished before pulling them out of you; you whine at the sudden absence. 
“Don’t worry, mesh’la. I’m gonna take care of you,” he says before leaning back and pulling his cock out of his flight suit. 
He slicks his cock with your release and you spread your legs wider to accommodate how broad he is. He grabs your hand as he pushes into you. You gasp at his length, filling you completely. He buries his cock into you down to the hilt and showers you with praise. 
“You take my cock so good, cyar’ika,” he says as he stretches your walls.
His other hand moves to your tit, thumbing around your nipple and worrying into a stiff peak. It pulls a deep moan from prompting him to explore your body and learn just what makes you melt. His eyes are locked with yours, even though you can’t see his. He tears away his gaze for a moment to look down at your cunt and the way it grips his cock moving in and out of you. He curses at the sight, mesmerized by it before fucking you relentlessly. You feel your core tense up again before washing you over with the biggest wave of relief. You know he’s at the edge, too. He goes to pull out but you don’t want him to, not ready for the fullness you’re feeling to go away. 
“I have an implant,” you say quickly.
And with that he drives his hips into you one last time before releasing his load into you, coating your insides. He cums with a loud groan, spilling out of the helmet. He lays down, keeping you inside him and pulls you against his chest. 
“You’re amazing, cyar’ika,” he purrs, hand trailing up and down your figure. 
You sigh happily in response. He goes to pull out but you stop him, telling him you want to fall asleep like this. He relaxes and settles against you, wrapping your arm around your waist. 
“Thank you for that, Din,” you whisper. 
“Anything for you, cyar’ika.” he whispers back as sleep overtakes you both. 
You wake up to the sensation of his cock hardening inside you. You let out an involuntary moan and move your ass against him. He grinds back into you before waking up fully, hand gripping your waist tightly. You move back and forth with each other in a perfect rhythm, your ass colliding with his groin, plunging his cock into you as deep as it can go. He reaches forward and parts your legs slightly so he can rub your clit. You moan and lean back against his strong chest while he fucks you; the dual sensation taking you to the edge quickly. You cum simultaneously, pulling every last drop out of him as your cunt flutters around his cock. You’re feeling fuller than ever, between his length and having taken two of his loads. You’re going to miss this feeling so much. You’ve only had sex twice now and you’re already missing the feeling of him inside you. 
“You’re so dirty, cyar’ika,” he muses, hands roaming your body again, “Going to another man, full of my cum.”
“And wishing it was you,” you whine. 
“I know,” he whispers, “At least I got to experience this with you.”
“Yeah…” you trail off, the realization of today settling in. 
“I guess I should go get ready,” you sigh. 
He doesn’t say anything but you can feel him exhale behind you. You lift yourself up out of the cot and strip your pajamas. He sits up on the cot and admires your naked form in front of him, fearing it’s the last time he’ll ever see it. He wishes he could just rip off the helmet and take an unobstructed mental image but he knows he can’t. You go get dressed for the day, feeling so angry and defeated about your situation that you don’t bother to shower and wash him off of you. If you’re going to walk into an arranged marriage you’re going to do it encapsulated in the scent of your lover and filled with his cum. 
Din reattaches his armor and his weapons before retreating to the cockpit. You gather your things and meet him there, sitting in the passenger seat silently. The gloom of the situation permeated the space and both of you were feeling it. This time the silence is sad and lonely instead of comfortable like it had been for the past several days. 
Naboo comes into view and you gasp at the lush planet. Why does this beautiful place have to hold such terrible implications? Din watches the way your face lights up as you admire the scenery. He received coordinates where to land prior to leaving and heads there. One the Crest is stationary and he gets up to help you with his bags, pulling you into one final hug before lowering the exit ramp. 
“Take care, ner alor’ika.”
“Hmm, what does that one mean?” you ask against his chest plate. 
“My princess,” he says softly, moving his hand to the small of your back. 
He pulls away and lowers the exit ramp. You see the unfortunately familiar face of Valsi and an older lady who can only assume is his mother. You walk down the exit ramp with Din as he carries your bags.
Valsi’s mom greets you with a cheery hello. She starts rambling on about how excited is to show you around. Din sets your bags down on the ground and Valsi calls for a servant to collect them before taking your arm. They lead you away and you look over your shoulder to get one final glimpse at him before he turns and walks to the crest, the exit ramp closing behind him. A pit forms in your stomach as you hear his engines power up. 
Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind 
Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in
As if you were a mythical thing
Like you were a trophy or a champion ring
And there was one prize I'd cheat to win
Valsi’s grip on your arm is tight and constricting as his mother shows you around. It really is a beautiful place; high vaulted ceilings decorated with elaborate paintings supported by strong columns. But you can’t admire the place without Valsi making a snide comment. 
“You won’t find places like this on Savareen,” he says, a dark smirk painting his face. 
“Valsi! Don’t be rude!” his mother scolds. At least she’s more polite than him. 
“Well, it’s true…” he says under his breath. 
His mother shakes her head and rolls her eyes before leading you outside. The garden is vibrant, green and full of life. Species of flowers you’ve never seen before lined up in neat rows with various sculptures arranged amongst them. Across the way there’s a shining, bright blue lake and in the distance mountains loom above casting their mystified reflection on the water’s surface. Minus the mountains, the lake reminds you of the oceans on Savareen and your heart aches. 
His mother goes to say something but she’s cut off by a blinding silver reflection walking across the garden. Your stomach lurches at the sight; Din Djarin walking towards you in a field of flowers. A giddy smile breaks out onto your face and you don’t care about Valsi or his mother’s reaction.
“You came back,” you say as he reaches you, trying to mask your excitement. 
“I’ve been hired by your father to look after you whenever Valsi is busy… up until the wedding,” he says.
“That’s ridiculous. We have plenty of guards here that can look after her,” Valsi retorts, narrowing his eyes. 
“Her father’s orders,” Din shrugs.
“Ugh, whatever.”
A servant comes out to the garden and motions for Valsi to come over to him.
“I have meetings I need to attend. See you for dinner tonight,” he says, squeezing your hand.
You pull back in disgust and he leaves to follow the servant inside.
“Feel free to explore on your own,” his mother says, “When you’re ready to be shown to your room, ask a servant and one of them will show you.”
“Thank you,” you smile. His mother really does seem like a nice woman. It’s a shame her son turned out the way he did. 
It’s just you and Din alone in the garden, standing in front of each other. You start walking towards the water and he follows you, admiring how the sun hits your face and how your hair catches the wind. You’re relieved to be with him again even if it’s only for a short time. You stop at the railing and rest your hands on it, leaning forward and looking at the rolling waves of the lake. The breeze blows your hair back and fills you senses with the scent of the flora around you. You look over at Din and wonder what it’s like for him under there. Does he ever miss the feeling of the sun on his face or the wind in his hair? Does he even have hair? You have no idea what he looks like. Can he smell things underneath the helmet?
“What are you thinking about, mesh’la?”
“What you look like… and if you can smell things through the helmet.”
His gloved hand on the railing slides towards yours, resting it on top. “Of course, I can smell, cyar’ika. I would fall asleep with you pressed up against me, smelling your sweet scent every night.”
Maker, you want him so bad right now. You inch closer towards him, barely keeping any space between you two.
“Cyar’ika…” he says nervously, “What if someone sees?”
“I don’t care,” you groan, resting your head against his chest plate, facing the water. You could stay like this forever, in his arms and surrounded by nature. 
But eventually you start to think that people might worry if you’re gone for a long time with him so you retreat back inside. You ask a servant to show you to your room. He leads you down a long hallway and stops at one of the doors. The room is beautiful, just like the rest of the mansion. You have a balcony that looks right out to the lake. Your bags are beside your bed and you turn to ask the servant about Din. 
“What about him?”
“Uh, Master Valsi never told me of any arrangements for him.”
“Well he is my bodyguard. I would like him to have a room not too far from me.”
“Very well, miss. I’ll get started on that. Dinner is in about an hour.”
“Thank you,” you smile. He closes the door behind him, leaving you and Din alone. He closes the gap between you and snakes his arm around to the small of your back. 
“Do you know how badly I want to take you right here, cyar’ika?” he whispers.
“I mean… we have an hour,” you say suggestively.
That’s all the clearance he needs. He pushes you down on the bed gently and pulls up the skirt of your dress to reveal no underwear.
“No underwear, cyar’ika? Iba’ etyc alor’ika.” What a dirty little princess. 
You moan at his words and spread your legs open for him, aching for his touch. He wastes no time bringing his fingers to your entrance and stroking it lightly, in awe of how wet you are already.
“How bad do you want it, cyar’ika?”
“So bad, Din. Please I can’t wait any longer,” you whine. 
He chuckles at your neediness and slides a finger in, curling it upwards against your walls. Barely giving you time to adjust, he pushes another in, anxious to get you cumming around his fingers. He brings his thumb to your clit and in no time he pulls an orgasm from you. You arch your hips up against him as your cunt convulses around him. He pulls his fingers from you after you’ve ridden out your high and releases his cock that was pitching a tent in his flight suit. He slicks his length with your juices and pushes into your cunt immediately, desperate for the warm, familiar feeling again. This is the first time you’ve had him during the day. And the light from the window and balcony across the room bathes him in the warm sunny glow. You’re mesmerized by the sight of him above you, inside you and in his full armor. It’s new for him, too. Not only are you also bathed in the afternoon light but you’re also in a bigger bed this time. And it allows you to sprawl out so beautifully underneath him. He leans down, effectively folding you in half and drives his hips into you harder. With this new angle you’re at the brink of orgasm and after one last forceful thrust you’re coming undone around him. Your muscles contract and release in a symphony, cunt fluttering around his cock pulling his own orgasm from him. Thick ropes of cum paint your walls as he slows his pace before pulling out of you carefully. He lays down on the bed and pulls you into him, the cold beskar a nice contrast to your warm, sweaty face. After a while of catching your breath he says, “You should probably go get ready for dinner, cyar’ika.”
“I know,” you sigh.
He rises and puts his cock away, grabbing your hand and helping you up from the plush bed. You undress and get ready to step in the refresher, making it even harder for you to leave him.
“I’m going to go retrieve some stuff from the Crest, cyar’ika,” he sighs.
“Okay,” you say softly, “See you after dinner.”
He leaves and closes the door behind him. You get in the refresher and clean yourself up, already missing him. You change into one of the dresses you packed, off the shoulder and a silky blue color before a servant comes to pick you up for dinner. He leads you to a large dining room, again with large vaulted ceilings. The table is so big and you’re sitting so far apart it’s barely like eating together. You’re sitting across from Valsi and his mother is at one end of the table.
“You’ll have to forgive Valsi’s father. He got caught up with some business on Coruscant but he’ll be here soon,” she says.
You nod and eat together in silence before asking, “What about-”
But Valsi cuts you off, “The Mandalorian? The servants will bring him his own food to his room.”
You think about Din eating alone in his room and feel sad for him, wanting nothing more than to sit against the door and talk with him while you share a meal together. Valsi raises his eyebrow at your concern for him but drops it, going back to eating his food in silence. Eventually the three of you are finished and you excuse yourself to your room.
“Thank you so much for the tour and thank you for having me in your home,” you say to his mom, looking past Valsi.
“Of course, dear. Have a good night.”
And with that you rise from your chair and walk back to your room, anxious to see Din again. You spot a servant in the entryway of the house and ask, “Where is the Mandalorian’s room?” careful not to use his name.
“The same hallway as you, miss. But all the way at the end.”
You tell him thanks and start walking a little faster, climbing up the staircase and heading towards the hallway. You reach the end and knock on his door, but you get no response. You wait a little before knocking again… but nothing. Maybe he’s already asleep? Maybe he’s still in the Crest? You wait for a sign of his presence before retreating to your room, feeling a little defeated. You get ready for bed and change into your pajamas, slipping into the soft bed and wishing Din was here with you. 
You drift off to sleep but don’t stay asleep for long because you feel someone on the other side of the room. You hear the clink of metal and the sheets rustle as the person sneaks into bed with you. You turn over to see Din getting into bed with you silently. 
“Din! What if someone comes in?”
“I won’t stay the whole night… I just couldn’t sleep without you.”
You feel a sense of relief, for you too have grown used to the feeling of him against you every night.
“Okay,” you say softly, settling yourself in the crook of his neck, “Goodnight, Din.”
“Goodnight, cyar’ika.”
“The more that you say
The less I know
Wherever you stray
I follow
I'm begging for you to take my hand
Wreck my plans
That's my man”
You wake up early in the morning with Din still at your side. He’s still sleeping so you pull yourself away (even though it’s hard) to watch the sunrise over the mountains and the lake. The sun peeks over the mountaintops cloaking everything in a warm, amber glow. You lean over the railing of the balcony, resting your elbows on it and placing your head in your hands, admiring the stillness of it all. No one telling you where to go, no Valsi dragging you by the arm, no father that doesn’t listen to you. Just you and your lover on a peaceful morning after just spending the night together. You hear Din get up and walk behind you, hooking his hands on your hips. It’s early enough that you don’t care about anyone seeing you together. You’re probably the only ones awake. He slides your sleep shorts down and you stand on your tiptoes for him. You feel the leather of his gloves trail up and your entrance before he pulls away to take them off. You hear the them hit the floor and he replaces his hand, bare this time. His fingers tease your core, playing with you until you whine for him, getting sick of the teasing. You stand on your tiptoes even higher, arching your ass against his groin. 
“Right here, cyar’ika? What if someone sees?”
“No one will… and if someone does, oh well,” you sigh. 
“That’s my girl,” he chuckles before plunging a finger into you. 
You moan at the sensation and arch your back more, desperate for more of his touch. He slips another finger in and works your walls, preparing you for his cock. Before you could cum he pulls them out of you, whining at the empty feeling. But before you could complain anymore you feel his cock push into you slowly. You sigh at the feeling of being full once again. He grips your hips and pulls you into him, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. Your soft and hushed moans surround you as you do your best to keep quiet. With one last slam of his hips you’re coming around him, gripping his cock like a vice. He erupts his load into you, filling you with the familiar feeling of his cum soaking your cunt once again. He pulls out of you and brings you up into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. The cold feeling of his chest plate presses against your back, slick with sweat from this morning’s activities. You stay there for a moment, holding each other and watching the rest of the sunrise. 
“Ni ka'tayli gar darasuum,” he says softly.
“Hmm?” you ask, still feeling blissed out.
“I love you, alor’ika. And I know that’s unfair to you because you’re engaged to someone else but… I can’t help how I feel.”
You turn and face him, gazing up into his visor and shocked that you just got a confession of love from him. But deep down… you feel the same way. And it hurts so bad because you know in a month you’ll be married to someone else.
“I love you, too, Din,” you say. 
He pulls you into him and strokes your back gently. You close your eyes and relax but you’re interrupted when you hear a knock on the door.
“Breakfast is in thirty minutes, miss,” you hear a servant say.
“Kriff, they’re probably going to your room next,” you say, pulling away and looking up at Din. 
“It’s okay, cyar’ika. I can just say I was sleeping before when they bring my food.”
You sigh and nod before going to get ready, changing into another dress. Din hugs you from behind one last time before returning to his room. You leave and walk to the dining room for breakfast to find Valsi and his mom sitting, talking about wedding preparations.
“Well, Valsi,” his mom sighs, “You’re already giving barely enough time to plan this wedding and now you want to move it up?” 
“Mhm. As soon as possible. Next week.”
She sighs again, “Fine, let me go alert the help of my son’s rash behavior.”
She gets up and leaves. You look at Valsi with a confused expression on your face.
“We’re moving up the wedding?”
“Mhm,” he says, rising from his chair and walking over to you. He looks down at you with a truly sinister look in his eye. 
“One of the servants alerted me of your little activity with the Mandalorian this morning. Can’t say I’m surprised. You two can’t keep your hands off each other.”
Your mouth falls open and a pit forms in your stomach. 
He continues speaking and grabs your chin, “So you can mess around with your little Mandalorian play thing for now. But once we’re married, you’re mine. Do I make myself clear?”
“Mhm.”
“Good. Don’t really want this getting out to the public, do you? Think of your father’s reputation once everyone finds out you’re cheating on another senator’s son with a Mandalorian of all people.”
He releases his grip on your chin. “Alright, go run to him and tell him the news. But later today you’re looking for a wedding dress,” he sighs, returning to his chair. 
You push out your chair and leave the dining room at once, tears forming in your eyes. You don’t stop until you reach Din’s room, knocking on the door and calling for him. You hear the hiss of the modulator through the door; he must’ve been eating. He opens the door and you collapse into him, letting the tears flow.
“What happened, cyar’ika?” he says, rubbing your back.
“Someone found out about us and told Valsi… he moved up the wedding to next week,” you sob. 
You feel him tense up against you. “I’m sorry, cyar’ika. I wish there was something I could do.”
“Take me away from here,” you say softly.
“I… can’t. I’m sorry, cyar’ika. They’re members of the Senate. They’ll have everyone in the galaxy after us.”
You sob even harder, feeling completely hopeless. Not even Din can save you from this. You pull away, just wanting to wallow in your sadness alone.
“I think… I need to be alone.”
“Cyar’ika-”
But you don’t listen. You turn on your heel and walk back to your room, collapsing into bed and letting your tears overtake you. You drift off to sleep but your nap is interrupted by a servant waking you up, telling you it’s time to go pick out your dress. 
You leave with the servant and Din, who says nothing to you. They take you into the city and drop you off at a dress shop with enough credits. They wait for you out front while you make your selections. You couldn’t care less about your wedding dress and what it looks like since the marriage is a sham anyway. You pick the first one you see, pay and leave. You meet Din and the servant outside, ready to be done with being in public so you can go back to your room and wallow in sadness. You return back to the mansion and make a beeline for your room, tossing your dress on the dresser before falling into bed. You cry yourself to sleep and miss dinner, waking up the next morning with puffy eyes and an upset stomach.
The next several days feel monotonous, an endless cycle of pretending to care about wedding preparations and crying in your room. Valsi’s father and your family arrive on Naboo a few days before the wedding. Surprisingly, your parents invite the few friends you had on Savareen before you moved away; the best thing to happen to you in days. You’re happy to see them again but you wish it was under different circumstances. Din still hangs around, checking in on you in your room occasionally but you still hold some animosity for him for not being willing to get you out of here. 
“Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark
Show me the places where the others gave you scars
Now this is an open-shut case
Guess I should've known from the look on your face
Every bait and switch was a work of art”
It’s the night before the wedding and you hear a soft knock on your door. You open to see Din and despite your disdain for him you let him in. He sits on the bed gingerly, seeming nervous. You fold your arms, getting ready to speak first. But surprisingly he does.
“I just wanted to see you one last time.”
You sigh. In all honesty you wanted this, too. 
“Me, too,” you admit, sitting down next to him and looking down at your hands. 
He reaches over and palms your thigh. You pull off your dress before laying down on the bed and opening your legs for him. The dim glow on the lamps reflects off his beskar as he moves to your underwear, hooking the fabric with his fingers and pulling it off. He brings his finger to your cunt, teasing you lightly, taking his time with you on your final night together. You whine at his delicate touch, aching for more. He pulls off his gloves and feels just how wet you are for him, wanting to hear you beg for him again. 
“Please, Din. I need you,” you moan. 
On command he slides his finger in, pumping it and out of you slowly. “Anything for you, cyar’ika.”
It’s been days since you last had him and you missed him so much. You writhe under his touch; just from one finger. He marvels at your body, the plush skin of your thighs and how you arch your back in pleasure. Aching for more he pushes another finger in and brings his thumb to your clit. He rubs small, quick circles around it and curls his fingers, pulling an orgasm from you in no time. You soak his hand down to his wrist as your cunt grips his fingers. He waits until you’re done riding out your high before removing them from you and pulling his cock out of his flight suit. He lubricates his length with your release and aligns himself with your entrance, taking your hand one last time as he enters you slowly. You gasp at the sensation of him filling you up completely, burying his cock into you balls deep and grazing your cervix. His hands move to your waist pulling you into him as he thrusts into you. Your moans fill the bedroom and you couldn’t care less about anyone hearing you right now. He looks down at you in complete adoration as you take him. Din feels his cock tense up and his balls tighten. He’s at the brink of orgasm but he wants you to cum with him. He slams his hips into you harder and faster, sending you over the edge. Your cunt flutters around, pulling every last drop of cum from him as he fucks you through your release. He slows and pulls out of you, laying on the bed next to you. You place yourself in the crook of his neck one last time, inhaling his scent and trying to memorize every last detail about him before you never see him again. 
“Yooba solus mesh’la,” he whispers. (You are beautiful)
You sigh against him, never wanting this moment to end. But it’s getting late and you have to wake up early tomorrow. Reluctantly, you pull away from him and he gets up. You lead him to the door and give him one final hug. 
“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, alor’ika,” he whispers against your hair.
“I love you, too,” you whisper back. 
After one final look at each other he leaves, returning to back his room. You put on your pajamas and crawl into bed, silently crying before you fall asleep. 
You wake up the next morning with puffy eyes and an ache in your heart. Din’s surely gone by now. What reason would he have to stick around for the wedding?
Servants knock on the door and tell you they’re here to help you get ready. You get up to let them in and they begin to work on your hair and makeup. You put on your dress and look in the mirror. You look beautiful but you don’t feel beautiful; getting ready to marry a man you don’t love while you’re full with the seed of another. 
The servants escort you down the stairs and you see your parents. They tell you how beautiful you look and how happy they are for you. You give them a faux smile, trying to fake any ounce of happiness you can muster.
Soon, it’s time for the ceremony and you look out into the garden from the house at all the guests. It has to be a large wedding of course, filled with some of the most important people in the New Republic. You see Valsi at the end of the aisle, looking annoyed like he’s just waiting for this to be over. You walk down the aisle with your father and start to feel sick to your stomach at all of the eyes on you. He hands you off to Valsi who takes your hand, a little too tight. The officiant begins reading the wedding passage and your ears start ringing. You don’t even listen to what he and Valsi are saying, missing your cues to speak several times. You can sense Valsi getting annoyed with you, his brow furrowing at you as you trip up on your vows again. Before you can finish you hear a loud, “Stop!”
You rip your gaze from Valsi to see Din standing in the aisle. He doesn’t even have to continue calling for you. You immediately run towards him and into his arms, ignoring the protests of Valsi and your family and the gasps from the guests. You hear Valsi call for the guards and Din draws his blaster. He places one hand on the small of your back and begins firing once the guards do. 
“Run, cyar’ika! To the docking yard!”
You turn and bolt. You hear Valsi shout, “Don’t let her get away!”
Din follows you, shooting his blaster at anyone chasing after you. Between the adrenaline rush of escaping and being fired at you push yourself harder, desperate to get away. You reach the docking yard and run straight to the Razor Crest. Din opens the exit ramp and ushers you inside, firing his blaster a few more times at the guards before following you inside. He closes the ramp behind him and rushes up the ladder and into the pilot seat, preparing the Crest for takeoff hastily. Not before long you’re taking off, staring at the beautiful planet beneath you but feeling so grateful to be leaving. Once you left the atmosphere Din jumps to lightspeed. He turns to you and grabs your hands. 
“Are you okay? Are you hurt, cyar’ika?”
You shake your head no, still panting from the chase and replaying it in your head. 
“How are we going to do this, Din? They’re going to send everyone after us.”
“Don’t worry. I have a plan. We’re going to Nevarro where I have some people who’ve agreed to hide us. But there’s one thing… you have to become my riduur.”
“Your what?”
“My wife; my spouse.”
Without hesitation you tell him yes and he sighs in relief, worried that you didn’t want to escape one marriage by entering a new one. He lets go of your hands and brings them to the edge of his helmet. You immediately throw your hands over your eyes and ask, “What are you doing?!”
“Don’t you want to see the face of the man you’re marrying, cyar’ika?”
“...I can do that?”
“Yes, cyar’ika,” he chuckles but his heart swells at the idea of you agreeing to marry him without seeing his face; at your devotion to him. 
He pulls off the helmet and you hear the hiss of the modulator. You slowly remove your hands from your face and see Din, staring back at you. Brown, curly hair, a little matted from the helmet, a strong, prominent nose, two frown lines perched between his eyebrows, slightly patchy facial hair, and warm brown eyes scanning your face for any sign of approval. He’s beautiful; more beautiful than you ever could’ve imagined.
You crash your lips against his and entangle your hands in his hair, reveling in the feeling of his bare face pressed against yours. You break the kiss and rest your forehead against his. 
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“You don’t have to thank me, cyar’ika. I’d do anything for you… I love you.”
“I love you, too, Din,” you say, kissing him again. 
He rests his hand on the back of your neck, continuing the kiss until he pulls away to check the coordinates on the control panel. You can’t tear your eyes away from him, watching him in the blue glow from hyperspace. He turns his face towards you again and smiles, the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen. That’s your man. 
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End note: Wow ok so that's the longest fic I've ever written!!! I would love to hear your thoughts!!! I was pretty nervous about posting something with this large of a scale contained in one fic so I would love to hear what you think 🥺🖤
Tag list and anyone else I thought might be interested!: @wannab-urs @atinylittlepain @bearsbeetsbeskar @jksprincess10 @dinsdjrn @dindjarinslegs @pr0ximamidnight @ghoultalks @beee-haw @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @heareball @littlemisspascal @marisemonteiroo @split-spectrum @hnt-escape @polishedtaylor @toxicanonymity @scmdsblog @babeincolor @undrthelights @tuquoquebrute @pedritosdarling @tieronecrush @pedrostories @tinygarbage @pedropascll @theelishad @kirsteng42 @pedritolover @randomnessfangirl @cannolighost @saradika @readingfan
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brenninthetaylorverse · 6 months
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my baby evermore>3
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thecoldcoffeecup · 1 year
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"you started it"
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luvfy0dor · 5 months
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Evermore best Taylor Swift album (through tears)
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arielovessims · 5 months
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willow (Veronaville's version)
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iknowplaces-tv · 1 year
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wait for the signal and i'll meet you after dark...
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singing-to-me-now · 6 months
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Wait for the signal
and I'll meet you
after dark
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bruisedlikeviolets13 · 6 months
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wait for the signal and i'll meet you after dark
i always think of evermore as a fall/early winter album, so it's only fitting that i post some dark academia-y pics i took when i was in scotland last october
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scaredofghosts · 1 year
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every bait and switch was a work of art | 5 days till The Eras Tour
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catapparently · 2 months
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The High King of Flowers
AO3 LINK
MASTERLIST
Fandom: The Folk of the Air
Ship: Jurdan
Word count: 1.1k
~~~~~
They were sitting in the throne room, Cardan looking as bored as ever as two little faeries droned on and on, complaining endlessly about their measly little problems. He absolutely loathed this part of being High King; always having to pretend to care about even the smallest of quarrels in Elfhame and judge them accordingly, lest his subjects would turn away from him for not acting as a “proper and prosperous High King” would and should. Cardan hated it. He like the gifts, the praises, and the long revels with wine and dancing that went on and on until the early mystical hours of the day. Though, in some twisted way, he enjoyed all the attention and importance he was finally being rightfully given as faeries come to him with all of their troubles and worries.
“Well, perhaps it was his fault, this time. As such, Diaspor, you shall give Torren your first berry harvest every month for the next fifteen years, and in return, Torren, you shall teach him how to weave his dried bark strips into the finest of enchanted baskets,” Cardan mused, glancing over at Jude, waiting for her usual approving nod at his conclusions. Jude stared absentmindedly into space, her fingers vacuously stroking the colorful petals of the flowers and the many plants decorating and encasing their thrones. He quickly noticed her dazed state, her gaze fixed on an unfocused spot in the room.
His eyes snapped to the faeries and guards in the throne room as he dismissed them. “Leave us be.”
At his immediate words, they all filed out of the large ornate room, though not without sparing a few curious and inquisitive glances behind them. Cardan reached out his hand, each finger carefully and glamorously embellished with daintier, shiny rings. He lightly grazed his knuckles over the soft round curve of her ear, meticulously admiring the glittering golden ornaments decorating it, the same color as the shimmery swipe of glitter that he always wore on his well-defined cheekbones.
“Jude, my lovely, what are you thinking about this time?” he probe, not exactly used to his High Queen being so utterly… absent. At the sound of his silken voice, her face tilted upwards, her calculating eyes rising to meet Cardan’s adoring ones.
“I was thinking about Vivi, she murmured, “she snagged a date with Heather for tonight. I hope everything goes okay with them this time.” Jude wasn’t the type to worry, yet her voice sounded uncharacteristically strained. She truly cared about her sister, and hoped that Vivi could rekindle her relationship with Heather. Heather, whom both Vivi and Oak dearly missed.
His fingers moved downward, tracing and weaving through the silky brown locks resting on her nape. “And no date for us tonight as well, hmm?” he teased, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his perfect plush lips.
“You know, these flowers really are beautiful,” she remarked, her attention once again turning to the lovely decorations around their thrones.” Cardan raised an eyebrow. “You think?” It was unlike Jude to pay such attention top details as small and insignificant as decorations.
“Sometimes it’s hard to believe that someone like you could conjure up such delicate and colorful flowers,” she shot back.
Cardan gasped dramatically, his hands immediately leaving Jude’s smooth cheeks to clutch theatrically at his chest as though she’d shot a glamoured arrow right through it.
“How dare you! I am very much delicate; my skin is as soft as the finest of moth’s dew-bathed silk, and my palms are free of the scars and scratches of a forceful warrior,” he retorted, quick to defend his honor. It was all true, and it was difficult to imagine a faerie more delicate than Cardan. Cardan, who wore eyeliner and kohl to enhance his mischievous eyes. Cardan, who carefully brushed shimmering stardust on his cheekbones. Cardan, who wears the most lavish and unnecessarily intricate doublets and royal clothing. And finally, Cardan, who had recently developed a new liking to lightly staining his lips with the ripest and best of autumn faerie gooseberries. It left a faint sour taste on Jude’s tongue every time she kissed him.
To prove his point even further, he sprang up from his seat, carefully clutching Jude’s wrist and dragging her behind him. Cardan led her straight out of the throne room and into the royal gardens, making sure that all of the faeries who worked to maintain it where gone. Unlike his brother, Balekin, Cardan had never, ever, glamoured defenseless humans into working for him at the palace. Hell, he’d even brought forth a law that forbade it. Yet he still wasn’t willing to admit that on that night, many moon cycles ago, he’d truly cared about that human and saved her from Balekin.
And so, the High King of Elfhame sat his queen down amidst the prosperous rows of blooming flowers, standing proudly before her. Cardan kneeled besides Jude, under the large willow that hid both of them, tucking them into their own little world.
“Jude,” Cardan breathed. His eyes were locked on her, drunkenly inhaling on the image of she who haunted his mind all the time, be it in his thoughts during even the most important of meetings or at night, dancing with his heart cradled in her hands in his dreams. She was his anti-medusa, the ferocious beast of a warrior who had shattered his heart of stone, filling it with the pulsating life of her ambition. The mortal girl who so obstinately wore her hair up in little horns. It was such pure, primitive sense of life that no faerie could have or understand, no matter their eternal lifespan. It was iron that faeries, who could live forever with their magic and enchantments, never truly lived, not in the way that humans do. Not like Jude.
Cardan removed Jude’s crown off of her head and set it safely on her lap, yet it was immediately devoured by the many sparkling layers of red fabric. Red, just like the color of the roses he was weaving into each other by the stems like a flower crown, making sure no thorns remained. He intertwined the flower circlet through her royal crown, then placed it atop her head once more, admiring the way it matched her dress and the faint blush on her cheeks she believed so soundly that she was able to hide. “Wear these. Just like my love for you, the flowers shall never wither or fade.”
“My darling High Queen,” he murmured, utterly drunk on her very presence eternally by his side, his lips brushing against hers, “my Jude.”
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softsabers · 10 months
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life was a willow and it bent right to your wind.
— 𓍢🧺𓈒⊹ֶָ֢ —
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I hand-knit the folklore cardigan so [with my v important pointers] you totally can, too!
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Pattern
Taylor Swift's folklore the "Cardigan" by Lion Brand (free)
I have several qualms about this pattern, and though it’s easy to comprehend for the most part, I kind of hate it. But! I have tips below so that you can use this free pattern and OG cardigan reference pictures to make the perfect finished project. It’s also super easy actually even if you’ve never done cables or a large project before.
Materials (used as recommended by the pattern)
Needles: Takumi Clover US 9 (5.5 mm), 29" circular needles—My first time trying bamboo needles and this brand, I LOVED it. It made continental knitting so easy and fluid. I would recommend longer cables to make the button band part less stressful, and perhaps smaller diameter needles to make the ribbing prettier
Lion Brand Wool Ease: see rant below
Buttons: 3 1.25"-diameter La Mode buttons (there are prettier ones out there though they can get frighteningly expensive, pick what you like)
A summary of issues
the sizing runs very large
the button band (and, by extension, side panels) is all wrong for sizes other than S/M (the whole pattern is based aound S/M with suggested alterations for other sizes)
the arms turn out way too long for any size if you follow the instructions
the back cables (and possibly some others) are spaced distinctly differently from the OG folklore cardigan from Taylor’s site
the suggested yarn (Lion Brand Wool Ease) is scratchy on sensitive skin, stiff, thicker, more fuzzy than the folklore cardigan (and sheds a lot!), and stretches a lot which makes the cardigan larger than expected
Biggest tips (if you want to knit a cardigan similar to the OG)
CHECK YOUR GAUGE
measure yourself to pick size, and size down
find a bunch of pictures of the OG cardigan in the size that you want & count the stitches from the photos + graph the Lion Brand pattern, and compare before you begin
make alterations as needed
DO NOT BLIND BUY LION BRAND WOOL EASE
My best advice would be to just do a big guage swatch (as recommended on the pattern), run it through the wash, block it, measure it, plus assume that the cardigan will additionally stretch out on your body whenever worn. (Also if you’ve never knitted a garment before, the individual pieces absolutely look bigger once assembled and seamed than when they do on the needles while being knit.) The button band will add some width as well.
The button band is the current object of my misery. The cardigan fits like a cute tent, but the buttons beginning near my stomach is a no-go. I would definitely recommend double checking the spacing of the buttonholes on the button band because I kind of wish I’d altered them a little bit according to how I want the front to look. But then, the side panels would have to start slanting higher up towards the neck, so the whole neck should have been a smaller V. And I don’t have the heart to frog all the way back to to that. Still wondering if I should just shift the buttons higher and redo the button band, but I might just leave it as is and call it a day.
The recommended yarn is Lion Brand Wool-Ease, but actually I regret using it because it’s so stretchy and bulky, so the cardigan turned out a lot more chunky (and a lot more stretchy too I’m guessing) than the OG. I even found the finished measurements on the pattern misleading due to the cardigan stretching due to its own weight.
The pattern also calls for very long arms so I would advise just doing 4.5 diamonds for the back and then 4 diamonds for the arms, just like the OG! I thought 4 diamonds would be too short but the off-shoulder fit makes 5 diamonds incredibly long for me, and 4 would have been perfect!
I’m not sure why the instructions were that misleading with the sizing—Partly it’s me messing up with my guage, but I’m thinking it might also be because Lion Brand was basing it off the OG folklore cardigans from Taylor’s website, which I’ve heard run immensely large in a similar fashion. Still, I’m not sure exactly how the sizing compares to that of the XS/S and M/L OG cardigans
I usually am an S for perfectly fitted T shirts, and I get M sized crewnecks/hoodies for a perfect, comfy, borderline oversized fit that isn’t snug over layers. I was confused between knitting the S/M and L/XL because I wanted an oversized fit. I worried the S/M might be too snug and figured it was better to err on the side of it being a bit larger than expected because it’s still possible to style that, while a too-small cardigan would just be unwearable. But I think sizing down is the best way to go for that pattern and yarn if you’re picking between two sizes. The S/M pattern would probably produced something that fits more like a regular L/XL you would expect to see in a store.
Also, the yarn is fuzzy and pills a lot! It’s also slightly scratchy even after conditioning. So I would say just pick a durable yarn that creates a fabric that you love first before you start the project!
The Lion Brand pattern’s back cables are spaced slightly differently from the OG cardigans. (The OG had some moss stitched space between the two left cables on either end and the group of other cables in the center.) There might be other differences too. I know there are some other patterns out there you can pay for and they might be more accurate to the OG, but I would recommend simply looking up pictures of the OG cardigan in the size that you’re aiming for, and then taking note of the differences and making the alterations yourself! The stitches are fairly easy to count!
I have a breadth of regrets about this project (and some of it is just post-project blues, y’know?), but you live and you learn, folks! And I definitely learned a lot from this project. :) Will come back here and update once I add the (very expensive) silver star patches I’ve been procrastinating to buy because I’m so broke and so sad about how it turned out. I’m confident all the time I’ve spent on her will culminate in me surely falling in love with her soon enough. <3
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ts-song-tournament · 8 months
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thecoldcoffeecup · 19 days
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fatefully, i tried to pick my battles til the battle picked me
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foxes-that-run · 5 months
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Willow
Willow is about an affair with someone she desires like a prize, she cheats to win him. The Willow Song is in Shakespeare's Othello. Harry Styles Sweet Creature also references Othello about Taylor. To People on 5 December 2023 Aaron said Taylor wrote
Due to their huge spread willows are susceptible to wind and flexible, so they have deep and strong roots. It's symbolism for a strong bond that's tenacious and grows in poor conditions. A Willow appears in Begin Again, where it was also shot a similar way.
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The film clip picks up straight from Cardigan which is also about Harry. The children in the tent is a reference to Everything has Changed and Seven. In a Livestream Taylor said the film clip referenced Exile, which I think is "I've seen this film before and didn't like the ending." In Cardigan she was 'changed' but she stayed where she started, in Willow she leaves with her muse.
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There are green curtains when Taylor is behind the glass, Taylor said this references Mirrorball. Harry is also behind glass in the As it was and referred to 'being behind the glass' as something others couldn't understand, separating them from other people. This is similar to the gilded cage theme. She also uses similar imagery to refer to her stolen masters for her Eras being behind glass in the Eras tour and I Can See You music video.
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The dancer is from Red tour (IKYWT). The posters behind him say The Python and The Man of Fire (a Sweet Nothing and William Bowery reference, in Rolling Stone Paul McCartney told Taylor his pseudonym was Fireman). The Man of Fire is is doing the Whale. (!!)
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The cloak is like the one in Ready for it and Green. They step into the Daylight at the end. The Invisible string ends in the cabin.
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To Zane Lowe Taylor said:
'It felt like somebody's standing over a potion making a love potion dreaming up the person that they want and the person they desire and trying to figure out how to get that person in their life and all the kind of misdirection and bait and switch.' The complexity of seeing someone, feeling a connection wanting them and trying to make them a part of your life. It's tactical at times, it's confusing at times. I wanted to set the vibe of magical and mysterious." and "One of the main themes [of Folklore] was conflict resolution, get through something with someone, making confessions or communicating. Evermore deals a lot in endings of all sorts shapes and sizes all the kinds of ways"
To people magazine 5 December 2023 Aaron Dessner said it was the first song after folklore:
“There are so many stories I could share. When I sent Taylor the music for our song "Willow" — I think she wrote the entire song from start to finish in less than 10 minutes and sent it back to me. It was like an earthquake. Then Taylor said, "I guess we are making another album."
Othello and Sweet Creature
The Willow Song is a real folk song referred to in Shakespeare's Othello. Othello is married to Desdemona. Lago seeds doubt in Othello's mind that Desdemona has been unfaithful with Cassio. Desdemona sings part of 'The Willow Song' in which a lady mourns her true love lost, the singer dies from their false love's cruelty. As the folk song foreshadowed, Othello loses his mind and kills Desdemona in a jealous rage.
Considering Taylors comments above that Folklore is about communication (with songs like Cardigan, The 1 and Exile where she cleared some air with Harry). And her comment that Evermore is about endings, and Willow figuring out who one wants and Masterminding them into one's life. Like it's namesake, Taylor's Willow is expressing a wistful desire for a lost true love. The context implies neglect and distrusted by her partner at that time.
The Othello reference implies the object of her desire, the title of Harry Styles Sweet Creature is an Othello quote. Sweet Creature mocked CH's unwarranted belief that he had had an affair with Taylor, it also expresses Harry's love for Taylor.
I have seen analysis suggesting that Willow is retelling of Othello from Desdemona POV, but it isn't. Desdemona is an innocent victim, She's faithful and says she would not cheat for anything short of the whole world then is murdered. Taylor's character in Willow has more agency and would 'cheat to win' a trophy of man that she describes in Gold Rush. Unlike Desdemona, she has desire, which Taylor described to Zane Lowe. She is the character in the Willow Song - stuck in a false love, longing for her lost true love. It is a metaphor for Taylors own life, Sweet Creature parallel intended. Which explains the video with links to Taylor's past since Red.
Lyrics
I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife And if it was an open-shut case I never would've known from that look on your face Lost in your current like a priceless wine
To WFPK Taylor described the couple in Coney Island and Exile as 'Ships in the Night' in having trouble communicating. A similar water theme is here. Although she is not open to a relationship, she is rough on the surface, he gets through and she wants him.
She is defenceless and lost wanting to be with him. (Wonderland: "We found wonderland, you and I got lost in it").
Wine is a theme, (spilt on many dresses (Clean), shirts (Maroon), bathtubs (Dress) and a sea here).
Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind (oh) Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in As if you were a mythical thing Like you were a trophy or a champion ring And there was one prize I'd cheat to win
Life is a willow that bent to your wind is brings the symbolism of a strong, deep force that grows around and with life's interferance. She has grown around this love, bending with it over time.
She feels her muse sneaking in to her pillow, sneaking implies an affair, this is not her boyfriend but someone she desires more that has had a deep impact on her life. This is confirmed with being willing to cheat to be with this muse.
She desires him like a prize, she describes Harry with similar desirability in Gold Rush, where she is intimidated by how desired he is, here she is proud he is her man. Similar to Gold Rush which starts with 'I almost jump in' Willow started with her having a rough surface he cuts through, both body of water metaphors.
The more that you say The less I know Wherever you stray I follow
'The more you say, the less I know' refers to her confusion over being in a committed relationship. In Folklore she and Harry communicated about their past in The 1, Cardigan and Exile. She's now confused about the path she is on and questioning if she should leave her partner. In The 1 she sang "And if you wanted me, you really should've showed", he now has and she is confused.
Wherever you stray a follow is similar to Lover "can I go where you go?" Also in Treacherous "And I'll do anything you say / If you say it with your hands". Also Harry's Medicine. "If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive"
I'm begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans That's my man You know that my train could take you home Anywhere else is hollow
"Begging for you take my hand" refers to:
Blank Space: "Grab your passport and my hand"
I Know Places: "Just grab my hand and don’t ever drop it"
New Romantics: "Please take my hand and please take me dancing", and
As it Was "I want you to hold out the palm of your hand / Why don't we leave it at that?"
"You know that my train could take you home" Home is an important concept between Harry and Taylor who sing about each other as home. Trains are also mentioned in Cardigan and Sad Beautiful Tragic, which Cardigan's BTS links to Cardigan.
'Anywhere else is hollow' is similar to Ready for it? "Every lover known in comparison is a failure" and Question...? "Does it feel like everything's just like second-best after that Meteor strike?" and Harry's MMIH "Once you go without it nothing else will do"
I'm begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans That's my man
"Wreck my plans", Taylors plans were to stay with the partner that, in Willow Song, is jealous and neglectful. This muse has shown up and that's out the window.
"That's my man" refers to the cyclical nature of their relationship:
Style: And when we go crashing down we come back every time
Blank Space: "But you’ll come back each time you leave"
Out Of The Woods: "We were built to fall apart, then fall back together"
How You Get The Girl: "Broke your heart, I’ll put it back together"
This Love: "When you’re young you just run, but you come back to what you need"
Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind (oh) They count me out time and time again Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind (oh) But I come back stronger than a 90's trend
I love this, to me the 90's trend/come back (to me) is a reference to 1989 and Style/the cycle nature of their relationship. In this part of the film clip she also references Reputation and where she was counted out and came back stronger.
Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark Show me the places where the others gave you scars Now this is an open-shut case Guess I should've known from the look on your face Every bait and switch was a work of art
Taylor further discusses how she meets her lover after dark, this is describing an affair as in Illicit Affairs.
He shares his vulnerability, where the scars are. Harry has sung of showing Taylor scars in If I could fly "I've got scars, even though they can't always be seen. And pain gets hard, but now you're here and I don't feel a thing. Pay attention, I hope that you listen cause I let my guard down. Right now I'm completely defenseless" I think she is also referring to Seven.
Taylor used 'Bait and switch in promotion for "Look at what you made me do" the bait and switch was that Reputation seemed like one thing but was about finding love through the noise. While Taylor dated Joe for the last 4 months before it's release, the album was primarily written by September 2016 before they started dating.
Taylor also referred to Zane Lowe about "The complexity of seeing someone, feeling a connection wanting them and trying to make them a part of your life. It's tactical at times, it's confusing at times." in the music video and Era's tour she has a witches gathering to use all her power and bring this muse into her life.
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arielovessims · 5 months
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Wait for the signal...
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...and I'll meet you...
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...after...
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DARK!
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