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tethys-the-aquatic-sea-godness · 2 months ago

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Observations on Sarevok and Tamoko

Since BG 3 saw it fit to erase the character described in game as Sarevok's "one true love", I thought I'd make a recap of whatever insights BG 1 gave us about their relationship. So here's an assortments of things I noticed in my recent playthrough, along with my rambling (which you're welcome to skip, obviously).

(It's long rambling, grab a seat and a drink if you're interested)

The first time most of us get any insight into the relationship between Sarevok and Tamoko is when Tamoko comes to talk with Gorion’s ward.

She’s very clear about her feelings for Sarevok (genuine love) and his plan (genuine reject)

A few highlights for me:

"I charge you to defeat Sarevok, the man behind all your woes. You must destroy his plans and stop his scheme in its tracks. You must strip him of the belief that he can succeed in this path he follows. You must do this for me, and you must also leave him his life. I will… I will help him to live his life as a man, not as the god he thinks he can be.”

"Possibly he’s right, but I cannot lose him to this."

"Sarevok is… I share Sarevok’s company, and would do so until I die, given the choice. That is all you need to know. I would save the man within the beast he wishes to be."

"Sarevok can be redeemed"

Her affection is plain, despite the rift in their relationship due to their disagreement. However, there's nothing on this from Sarevok himself (logical given the narrative of BG 1, he's trying to kill Gorion's ward, not chat about his love life). But, through various clues, you get an idea of his feelings.

Let's start with Cythandria, another member of the Iron Throne, and the insight this character gives into Sarevok and Tamoko's relationship.

The only time Cythandria is mentioned by another character is when Tamoko directs you to her.

"Atop the Iron Throne base is a woman whose... whose influence is a poison in Sarevok's soul" → According to Tamoko, Cythandria has a sway on Sarevok. She also add that "she [Cythrandria] holds much power in this matter". The question here would be why this Cythandria has any influence on Sarevok. He is focused mainly in power, and from a letter found on Slythe, the assassin working for Sarevok, he has no interest in brothels. If Cythandria has influence on Sarevok, it seems unlikely it would be through sex, so there's more to their connection.

Two more elements catch my attention:

"She seeks Sarevok's favor as well" → Whatever wedge has grown between Tamoko and Sarevok, Cythandria hasn’t managed to get in the gap. She’s 'trying', likely getting success from telling Sarevok what he wants to hear, and getting him to listen through the influence she has on him, but she hasn’t replaced Tamoko.

“I… I must go. He cannot know I have helped you” → Why she doesn’t want be seen with Gorion’s ward is obvious, they’re Sarevok’s enemy, but it’s also useful to gauge the state trust of Tamoko and Sarevok’s relationship. She knows enough of his plan that she can tell every single element Gorion’s ward need to check to prove Sarevok’s guilt to the duke: Eltan’s poisoning, the assassins in the Undercellar, Cythandria (though that last one might be partially prompted by jealousy). She’s also fully aware of his divine parentage, and his plans to ascend to godhood, as well as the method. It’s safe to say that at this point of the story, Tamoko is part of Sarevok’s inner circle and knows his whole plan from start to finish. You might even have identified her as the cleric who helped Sarevok slay Gorion during the prologue (dispel magic my hated beloved). More importantly, she’s part of that inner circle despite disagreeing with Sarevok regarding his choice for godhood. His actions until now doesn't lead to believe he'd take constructive criticism well, especially when he's so close to success, but he takes it from Tamoko, even though he doesn’t listen.

My conclusion: Sarevok’s plan to ascend to godhood has created a rift between him and his lover, Tamoko. Cythandria, someone with influence over Sarevok, is using that rift to get greater sway over him. Despite their conflict, Tamoko is still part of Sarevok’s inner circle, and privy to his plans.

The other time we get further insight into these relationships, is when we meet Cythandria.

Depending on dialogue, you may get different answers from her. This is the most informative.

"I am Cythandria, consort to Sarevok" → Well, that's a long way from "seeking his favor". Or not. Just further down the dialogue, Cythandria contradicts herself "He will be pleased to know I have killed you... perhaps enough that I might become his favored one again". It seems someone put the cart before the horse. It's paradoxical that she'd be his "consort", but not his "favored one". It also aligns with what Tamoko said before, Cythandria's trying to get back in Sarevok's good graces, but she's not there yet.

"I have been with him since before he knew of his true heritage" → That part's very interesting because it explains why and how she could have any influence over Sarevok at all. From Sarevok's diary, you know he's discovered his divine heritage around three years before the events of the game (he mentions starting his research in 1365 and game events occur in 1368), meaning he's known Cythandria for at least four years. From there, it's left up to the player to decide exactly how long they've been acquainted (from childhood or adolescence to less than a decade), and what "I have been with him" means. It's meant to indicate an intimate relationship, though when and how that relationship started during their acquaintance is up to you. She also wants to highlight her loyalty, showing that, unlike many, she stood with Sarevok before his divine heritage granted him more importance. That too would be a part of Cythandria's influence over Sarevok. She's a former lover, who was on his side before she knew of his parentage. More importantly, it shows Cythandria isn't Sarevok's 'new girl', she's a previous partner, and Tamoko is the 'new girl' here, as she does not mention having known Sarevok for a long time.

My conclusion: Sarevok knew Cythandria first, at least four years prior to the game's events. At some point, they started an intimate relationship that ended later on. Sarevok's relationship with Tamoko started after that. Cythandria has sway over Sarevok due to their past relationship and her loyalty prior to knowing of his heritage. Despite this, Cythandria's still trying (and seemingly not succeeding) to be Sarevok's favorite again, but she introduces herself as his consort anyway.

Further conversation with Cythandria gives more insight into her opinion on Tamoko, and Tamoko's relationship with Sarevok. A rather negative opinion.

Both of the following snippets are collected from different conversation paths.

This answer occurs if you don't mention you have inside information and try to convince Cythandria to surrender before the fight. As you can see, she's not impressed.

Here's a few highlights:

"I would never betray my Lord. Perhaps you should try your wiles on Tamoko, I'm sure she'd be more receptive to your overtures." → While she utterly rejects the idea of betraying Sarevok, she mentions Tamoko as someone who would be open to it. It's interesting on two points. First, it shows Cythandria doesn't understand Tamoko. To get this dialogue from Cythandria, you have to pick the answer that describes Sarevok as "evil to the core" and thus incapable of having a "favored one", which is pretty much the opposite of Tamoko's argument when you speak with her. She wants Sarevok's plan to fail, but her help depends on the promise that Gorion's ward will spare his life. Tamoko wouldn't be moved by this answer any more than Cythandria is, though it'd be for different reasons. Cythandria isn't concerned by his 'evilness', she's entirely behind his whole plan, while Tamoko believes this plan is harmful for Sarevok, that he's entirely under the influence of his divine blood. It lends credence to Tamoko's argument, when she describes Cythandria as someone who "is content if he [Sarevok] self-destructs, so long as she profits in the deed". Cythandria's loyal, but but she displays more concern for her place by Sarevok's side than for his survival. The second thing this dialogue shows is that Cythandria is aware of Tamoko's opinion on Sarevok's plan. Considering how they dislike each other, it's unlikely they chat around a drink, which leaves three options I'll give in order of how probable I think they are. One; Cythandria witnessed one or several exhanges between Sarevok and Tamoko where the subject came up. Two; Sarevok complained about his relationship problems to Cythandria. Three; you get Sarevok's diary from Cythandria, and while the canon contents don't mention anything beside his plan save for a nightmare, from the size of the diary, you can assume there's more in it, maybe his relationship problems. The second's less likely because Cythandria's still trying to get back in Sarevok's favor, he wouldn't be chatting about this with her. As for the diary found in her possession, there could be something mentionned in there, but there's no garantee at all, since it seems focused on his plan. There's also no way to know how long Cythandria had the diary and if she had any time to read it.

"I could never understand what Sarevok saw in her." → Cythandria doesn't understand the use for Tamoko, or see any qualities in her she'd value. Jealousy plays a role there too, Tamoko is her ex' new partner, but Cythandria could've dimissed her as a simple tool Sarevok would discard later. Instead, she considers it odd that Sarevok would keep Tamoko by his side at all. Cythandria has known Sarevok for several years, before he knew of his heritage, she has some influence over him, but she doesn't see why he'd keep Tamoko around. She disagrees with Sarevok openly enough that other members of the inner circle are aware of it, and even someone who's known Sarevok for a while doesn't understand where she'd fit in his plan. It's safe to assume Tamoko's there because Sarevok wants her to be, not because he has any specific use for her.

My conlusion: Cythandria considers herself highly loyal and Tamoko's commitment fickle. Despite having known Sarevok for years, she doesn't understand why he'd keep Tamoko around, since he doesn't seem to have a clear use for her, save for her company.

Now on to the second conversation path. In this one, Gorion's ward reveal they were tipped by someone to find Cythandria at the Iron Throne. However, Tamoko's name is kept out of it. Cythandria's reaction is as follow:

This answer says more or less the exact same thing as the previous answer, but it shows Cythandria's opinions rather than having her say them out loud.

"Who told you to come here? Who betrayed my lord?" → The same loyalty Cythandria talked about in the previous answer, but shown instead of told.

"It was Tamoko, wasn't it?" → Same here, with her belief in Tamoko's fickleness.

"I always knew her to be a traitorous whore!" → That one's interesting for the sheer volume of hate in it. It's another clue Cythandria didn't replace Tamoko. This kind of vitriol doesn't read like something coming from a new lover, but an ex one.

My conclusion: This different dialogue gives similar information (Cythandria's loyalty, her distrust of Tamoko), but it show them through dialogue rather than have Cythandria do the exposition. It also shows the deep resentment Cythandria's nurturing for Tamoko.

The next time you get an indication on the state of Sarevok and Tamoko's relationship, is during the last conversation with Tamoko in the Undercity, in front of the temple of Bhaal.

Their relationship has deteriorated since you last spoke to her. Understandable, as Sarevok discovered she betrayed him by offering significant information to sabotage his plans. Despite this, you can see Tamoko gets a different treatment, even as a traitor.

"He has forsaken me, left me to die in your path. I must fight to regain his trust, his... attention." → To better understand why Sarevok's treatment of Tamoko is different here, you have to compare it to how he treated another 'traitor'. Winski Perorate was a cleric of Bhaal, and Sarevok's mentor who "tutored him in the blackest of rituals". He was the one who helped him develop and nurture his abilities. He's one of his closest ally, someone who, unlike Tamoko, never tried to divert Sarevok from his course, as he was the one to set him on said course. Yet, during the fight at the Ducal Palace, Winski teleports Sarevok to safety, rather than follow his order to kill the Dukes. Sarevok strikes him down for his disobedience. Tamoko, revealed to be a traitor who actively worked to sabotage Sarevok's plans is found in a very different situation. She's full health, so he likely never attacked her (she could heal or down or potion, but nothing in her dialogue suggest he attacked her, only that he abandonned her), she has the option of a 'second chance' (her chances of winning in 1vs6 are dubious at best), but more importantly, she has the possibility to simply leave. She's entirely alone outside the temple of Bhaal, the only hostiles around being undead, not the worst threat when you're a cleric. She's free from the influence of a geas, and without any form of surpervision. Tamoko feels obligated to face you because she's heartbroken and desperate, but when you look at her situation, there's nothing to keep her from simply leaving, which you can convince her to do. Sarevok cuts down a man who saved him because he disobeyed his orders, but Tamoko, who sabotaged all his plans, is left unharmed, able to earn back his 'trust and attention' through what's akin to suicide, or leave, without any consequences. They were both part of his inner circle, but they're getting very different treatments.

→ The taint affects Bhaalspawns, pushing them to follow their darker side. During ToB, Sarevok also confirms that during that time, his "will was not his own". With that in mind, leaving Tamoko the way he does can be read as an attempt (conscious or unconscious) to save her, likely from himself. His reaction when Perorate disobeyed was to strike him down, it's unlikely he didn't feel the same urge when he learned of Tamoko's betrayal. However, in her case, he fought against the instinct and got it under some control.

My conclusion: Sarevok discovered Tamoko's betrayal, but rather than kill her, he let her live, supposedly to stand in Gorion's ward way. However, he did nothing to ensure that Tamoko did that, and she's able to leave completely unarmed. If she's killed, however, it's by Gorion's ward hand, not Sarevok's. Unlike anyone else standing in Sarevok's way, she's given a chance to leave, and he doesn't physically harm her.

Obviously, Sarevok and Tamoko's relationship meets a tragic end, whether or not she survives. If Gorion's ward refuses to attack and Tamoko is convinced to back down, the dialogue follows as below.

Here, Tamoko reaches her limit and lets Sarevok go. What I found interesting here ( and frankly had me sadly amused when I replayed it) was the display of naivety.

"You... you are not so alike after all. he would not have hesitated for an instant. Perhaps... perhaps it is more than his blood that makes him the way he is." → Tamoko staunchly defended Sarevok with the conviction that he only went to such lengths because of the taint, and that his choices would be different without it. This does not take into account any of Sarevok's background, which brings forth the question of how much of Sarevok's life did Tamoko know? Cythandria boasted knowing Sarevok before he was aware of his origin, but Tamoko made no such claims. That leads to believe she didn't know him before, which would make their relationship three years old or less. It's not much to share personnal details, especially with Sarevok's plans in motion. Another part that shows Tamoko didn't know Sarevok's past is this line: "perhaps it is more than his blood that makes him the way he is". 'Perhaps'? As a player, you can tell there's a lot more than his blood making him the way he is, through one entry in his journal and one conversation with Winski Perorate.

This is the journal entry that showcases a glimpse of Sarevok's childhood with Rieltar (which I will make a whole different post about, it's only here for context in this post). On a sidenote, despite his brutal ways, Sarevok never raises a hand on Tamoko, even when she betrays him. It's a really meaningful touch to add to a character who was forced to watch his mother being murdered by her husband.

It's never specified when Perorate became Sarevok's mentor, or for how long they've known each other, but Sarevok isn't that much older than Gorion's ward. At the latest, Perorate must've have found him when he was a young adult

In ToB you get a bit more of what Sarevok's life was prior to the events of BG 1 through his bio.

Compare this with a few background information on Gorion's ward.

That's the opening prologue, giving you some context.

Now this is one of three possible answers, but I choose to highlight it because it's the one where the difference is the most striking. Another answer describes this childhood as boring and the last doesn't comment. No matter what you pick, there's nothing dramatic to Gorion's ward's backstory before the events of the game. It's SoD exclusive though, so you can ignore it. Playing BG 1's prologue is enough to see how different their lives were.

"You are not so alike after all" (yeah, no shit) → Sarevok and Gorion's ward have led very differen lives, which shaped them into very different people. These changes affect how they respond to the taint. The fact that Tamoko never took this into account can showcase naivety, or a lack of knowledge of Sarevok's past, maybe a bit of both. Talking about that time your father murdered your mother can kill the mood on a date.

"But that only works for a 'good' playthrough'!" → No, actually, it works for the evil path as well, because whatever you choose, you either reject the taint's influence or harness it. Sarevok is unable to do either, but is convinced he's mastered the latter.

Post BG 1, Tamoko's fate is unknown when she leaves alive, but by the time ToB comes around, she's dead, fridged offscreen (thanks writers). However, you do get one last snippet of her and her relationship with Sarevok during his epilogue.

Here's the in game description I mentionned at the start. This is what Sarevok's epilogue ends on, the last thing the writers decided to mention. He goes on the other side of Toril, carrying Tamoko's remains (who may have died for his poor decisions, depending on how you played) back to her homeland, and staying there, as far as records know. They have people imagining dark stories of Sarevok going on a crusade in the Abyss or taking his own life, but the truth has him focusing on the one person he left aside before. It's a really bittersweet ending they choose for him. It showed him embracing his humanity over power in the end, the way Tamoko hoped he would.

Then BG 3. This epilogue was supposed to be the conclusion of Sarevok's story. Of course, writing more would be great if you follow up on what was already established. Not if you erase one character and ruin another, making it so what the wider audience knows about him is your shitty ooc fanfic version of him where his characterization gets stomped over. 'But you don't have the epilogue if you didn't revive Sarevok-', no, you don't, meaning he's still dead in the Abyss, not sitting somewhere under Baldur's Gate. 'But if he was revived by Bhaal-' dialogue clearly states he was raised by the intervention of their stand-in bhaalspawn. Even if this theory held any weight, being revived by Bhaal would mean Sarevok doesn't have any free will, and that's clearly not what dialogues imply.

BG 3 ignored the epilogue, erased Tamoko in favor of two OCs, that nobody who played the previous games give a damn about. You can't care about them when they're propped up on the back of characters you already care about (aside from the fact their backstory is the dumbest fanon nonsense I've seen in BG 3, to the point where it doesn't even look like part of the game). You can even start resenting them, when a beloved character is used as stepping stool to prop them up.

#baldur's gate 1 #bg 1 #sarevok anchev #tamoko #cythandria #long post #really long post #bg 3 critical #but only at the end #the focus is on the first two games

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saras-devotionals · 3 months ago

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Quiet Time 9/28+9/29

What am I feeling today?

Tired and overwhelmed. My laptop stopped working yesterday and I wasn’t able to get any work done at all and also I came home past 1 am this morning and I’m just so burnt out. Also disappointed in myself, as I stated earlier, I can feel myself slipping in regards to getting to attached to the guy I like. I spent some time in prayer over it this morning and then when I checked my phone I had gotten a notification from him (we rarely communicate outside of church) so now I’m like dang is Satan really trying to get me or do I see it as something will probably happen. I’m lost and I don’t want him on my mind so often when my number 1 priority needs to be God!

So tired. Our washer kinda flooded and we stayed up till midnight trying to get all the water out and cleaning. I’m also just feeling down, I just don’t want to leave my house but I know that I should go to church. I just need to spend some time with God.

Bible Study: Idols of the Heart

We have seen that idolatry is a heart issue. People abandon God’s ways and do things their way as they become wise in their own eyes. Look at Adam and Eve. Eve did not want to go to God for wisdom and knowledge. She wanted it independent of God, the fount of all wisdom. Eve desired the fruit more than God.

Idols of the heart are very deceptive because we can sometimes justify our actions by weaponizing scripture. Example: When we sin, we can minimize our behaviour by saying, "God is loving, He is forgiving, He is gracious. He does not condemn. He wants the best for me." We take scripture out of context and its overarching principles to suit our ends.

At the root of idolatry is a lack of trust in God’s goodness and that He will always give us good things, even when the wait is long.

Religion, too, can be an idol when we seek the gifts, ministry, position, more than Jesus.

AREAS OF IDOLATRY

Let us look at some broad categories of idols of the heart. Here is one:

PLEASURE /FEEL GOOD

We live in a feeling-driven world. If it feels good, it must be right. The feel-good idol wants a life of pleasure at all costs. This person is feeling driven and does not walk led by the Spirit. Their lives are ruled by wrong and undisciplined feelings that dictate to them in ways you cannot imagine, and they call it freedom! Freedom is not permission to do your own thing; rather, it is freedom from inner compulsions.

The feel-good idol will also make you do anything to numb the pain and seek pleasure. You can’t always feel good, yet you want to show that you are in this constant state of happiness. Just take a look at people’s Instagram posts and reels if you think this is not true. The need to project that all is well all the time causes you to live in deception and creates a false impression.

This idol also says, “Do not disturb my life, my doctrine, my comfort level."

REFLECTIONS

Have you ever wrongly used scripture to justify your behaviour or choices?

I’d assume in the past I must have but I can’t think of anything from the present when I have done that.

Do you identify with the above broad categories of idols of the heart?

I can. I don’t think I go after it at all costs (I used to) but I’ve learned a lot more and I’ve grown more to try and set limits for myself. However, I can still very easily be swayed by my emotions and desires and I wish (and pray for) a lot more self control🙏🏼

Is there anyone you can talk to about them?

Yes! My discipler. She’s been very helpful and although she says I’ve been doing a good job, that she’ll seek advice to see if there’s anything else that I can be doing to guard my heart. I can also talk to some of my other girl friends from church, I know some of them struggle with the same thing as me but it’s always great to have multiple advisors.

‭‭Jeremiah‬ ‭17‬:‭9‬-‭10‬ ‭NIV‬‬

“The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it? “I the Lord search the heart and examine the mind, to reward each person according to their conduct, according to what their deeds deserve.””

Our emotions do not dictate the truth that is God. The way we react isn’t the truth. Our hearts can feel so many different ways at different times. I know there have definitely been instances where my heart has deceived me. Now, I’m not saying that emotions are a bad thing or you shouldn’t feel, but just be mindful of what they are and where they’re coming from because you don’t want to be ruled by it. You want your life to be ruled by God.

Second, God searches our hearts and examines our minds, He knows us completely. We may be able to fool and deceive people, but God knows. So what’s the point of hiding certain things if they’ll come to light before Him? He knows what we deserve and He’ll be sure to give it to us.

‭‭James‬ ‭1‬:‭13‬-‭15‬ ‭NIV‬‬

“When tempted, no one should say, “God is tempting me.” For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone; but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.”

That part! God cannot tempt you! Temptation does not come from God!

Instead we’re tempted by our own evil desire. I know that I can desire things that at this time in my life, I shouldn’t. Sometimes, my mind goes to intimacy and although that’s not a sin in the confines of marriage, I’m not a married woman, and therefore have no business thinking such thoughts. Again, desire gives birth to sin and sin leads to death!

TITUS 2:11-14 NIV

“For the grace of God has appeared that offers salvation to all people. It teaches us to say “No” to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope—the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good.”

The grace of God, salvation, teaches us to say “no”! We must say no to ungodliness and worldly passions! God wants us to have self control, to be upright and godly! We should be eager to do what is right!

Practical: This will be difficult for me to deny myself but I should keep practicing self control. I’m not going to seek out the guy I like. If we do speak, I should make sure we aren’t alone. Also, that we’re not spending too much time with each other. I just need to keep these feelings and desires at bay because I don’t want it to reach a point where it overtakes me🙏🏼

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star--nymph · 4 months ago

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how does eurydice cope with feeling ill? what foods does she eat? does she have a set routine like, how does she get comfortable and feel better?

Ask me a question pwease!

how does eurydice cope with feeling ill?

Eurydice copes with sickness with technical correctness, in that she does what she's supposed to. She makes her medicines, drinks her teas, isolates when she can, studies her symptoms and side effects. Much like with other people though, Eurydice has no concept of bed side care or self care, and tries to power through. If she believes she can walk, then she walks, even if she's drenched in sweat and swaying side by side. It goes hand in hand with the idea that she doesn't trust anyone to take care of her besides maybe three people before the Conclave: her deceased grandmother, her sister Melia, and Keeper Deshanna. Her grandmother was really the only person she ever felt truly cared for and she's been dead since she was about four. Melia and Deshanna tried but you try forcing an elf who has climbed a tree and is clinging to the trunk. Eventually, you give up and wait for her to pass out. (this isn't to say the clan wouldn't have cared for Eurydice if she was sick--the strangest member of the clan or not, she's still apart of the clan and they will have her live) The Inquisition was different for various reasons but most of them was that the Inner Circle did genuinely care about Eury's well being and Eurydice was just not used to that. She bristles against it most of the time like a hart with a wounded knee shoving itself into a small corner to get away from a helping hand. She doesn't take well to fussing or coddling, so I suspect as much as she loves Josephine and Varric, the only people she allows to help her are Vivienne (who just has her lay down in her lounge and has things brought to her) and Cullen who just doesn't take no for an answer. He's lucky she finds his fussing cute because sometimes when he starts acting like she invalid, she wants to claw his face off and using magic to throw him outside.

what foods does she eat?

Eurydice enjoys light foods; fruits, greens, nuts, produces made from halla milk. She's always been a picker eater and I think flavors and textures can overwhelm her. Her favorite foods are, of course, peaches and blackberries--if you give her anything with those things in it, she'll gobble it down. She can eat meats, she really has no dietary problems with it, she just doesn't usually like it much. If you give her a roasted leg of lamb, she'll eat it because it's food but it's not her first choice on her plate. She does also like traditional dalish breads and treats. Clan Lavellan has a special recipe for 'sweet beatles' which is exactly what it does like--beetles that are dipped in honey and brown sugar crystals. It's crunchy and sweet, she used to pop them into her mouth as a kid when she listened to stories told by the Clan's Storyteller.

does she have a set routine like, how does she get comfortable and feel better?

Oh! I have this written down somewhere actually! She has a very detailed one she has for Skyhold specifically and if it's broken, it can ruin her whole day.

Wake up (if she slept at all, anyway) at first morning bell.

Either stays in bed or wanders the room for a while to think about what she needs to do for the day (or talking to Cullen, depending on whether or not she’s with him that morning)

Do paperwork or check her research notes from last night.

Drink something. Stuff a piece of fruit in her mouth.

Get dressed.

Deliver any work, letters, codex, or information to Josephine. Has a cup of tea if Josie requires more time to speak to her.

Visit stables and start early morning grooming/takes her mounts out for a ride.

Daily War Meeting/Missioning Briefing.

Visits either Vivienne, Dorian, or Solas to discuss spell work or spars with Cassandra (depends on the day)

Visits garden.

Visits Cullen promptly at Noon and takes their daily walk together (even if the routine is busted, this usually never changes. She made a point to prioritize this every day for both her and Cullen's benefit, mostly because this is also the time where she reminds him to eat).

Enters her workshop so study, experiment, or work on projects.

Has afternoon tea with Vivienne (also a permanent fixture that can not and will not be changed) occasionally joined by Leliana, Dorian, and/or Bull.

Enters undercroft to either speak to Dagna, Harritt, or work on her own crafting.

Visits stables again for afternoon grooming/feeding.

Has dinner (either with Blackwall at stable, in the tavern with Bull, Sera, Dorian, and Varric, or with Cullen).

Goes to Cullen’s tower.

Nightly walk promptly at 9pm (with or without Cullen) (another permanent routine).

Either returns to Cullen’s tower to spend the night with him or returns to her quarters.

Breaks out her jewelry making supplies and works on her bracelets.

Reads in bed or goes to sleep (depends on whether Cullen’s there or not because, again, has a set time for him to be in bed by, which is no later than 1:00 am).

#Eurydice Lavellan #writing

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livums · 2 years ago

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WIP Theme Tag

I was tagged by @violets-in-her-arms-writes ! Tysm!!! 💜 find her post here!

Rules: Bold the themes that appear in your WIP (& italicize those that are loosely covered) then tag 10 people.

{or some amount of people, I guess}

THAT’S RRRRRRIGHT WE’RE BACK TO THE MARKING BLOOD TODAY BABYYYYYYY

I did some selected explanations under the cut for anyone who’s interested 💖 (not the ones that are spoilers lmao go bananas)

Betrayal - Sonea learns and fears again and again that those closest to her cannot be trusted to keep her safe...

Change vs. Tradition / Chaos vs. Order / Convention vs. Rebellion - Sylah desperately trying to wrangle her sisters as she notices them slipping further and further away from the vampire hunting profession. Sonea being the Donkey Kong to Sylah’s Jumpman (hurling the plot down at her while she desperately tries to dodge it). Sonea questioning society’s fear of vampires, and hunters’ drive to slay them. Zova wondering if there is more for her in life.

Corruption - : )

Death - The inevitability that haunts Sylah, the ultimate, unavoidable loss of control. The death of her father has come and gone, and she can hear the bells in the distance.

Facing Darkness - There’s something unique and awful that lives in each of the sisters, something grown and fed at the hand of their father. In order to survive and protect their loved ones, they have no choice but to reckon with it.

Faith vs. Doubt - Sylah knows the Rules, and staunchly abides. Sylah knows the righteousness of her cause above all else... until she doesn’t. There is little that could shake the faith of one such as Sylah. But, hey, when it rains...

Family - THAT’S THE WHOLE GOD DAMN STORY!!!!!!!!

Fate - Sylah is haunted by omens and visions of the future. She does her best to warp fate to her desires, but fails again and again. The impossibility of control is the bane of her existence.

Fear - It’s a Gothic romance, baby! Fear and anxiety ripples through the townsfolk long before the appearance of the stalking evils. Fear is a constant companion of all three sisters--frequently commingled with some flavor of desire.

Fear of Failure - Sylah can feel the clock ticking. She has a limited amount of time to save her sisters, her love, and her town. She cannot fail. She cannot fail. She cannot fail. Not with Father watching from the grave.

Good vs. Bad - The empire and the Guild have long devised the dichotomy of Good and Evil, Man and Vampire. Sonea and Zova have begun to understand that the truth of things is far more complex. Sylah is not so easily swayed.

Guilt and Forgiveness - Sylah has wronged Nieve--this much is known. The guilt threatens to consume her every time she thinks of her beloved. Nieve struggles against the desire to fall back into Sylah’s arms. Sonea has a number of sins for which to atone--and Father yearns for absolution of his own from beyond the grave.

Injustice - To become a vampire is to have been wronged and failed by society at large. Where a helping hand is needed, one finds instead a fist, closed about a wooden stake.

Lost Love - Sylah has yet to understand what went wrong between herself and Nieve. Sonea suffers beneath the realization that Cascabel cannot give her what she needs above all else.

Love - Sylah, who loves heavy and strong, but speaks it in thorns. Sonea, who loves from afar, perched, awaiting the cue to flee. Zova, who loves with the depth and the fury of the raging ocean, who drowns all in her feelings.

Manipulation - In her time of need, Sonea reached out for her family, and found Cascabel instead. To be doomed to be a vampire’s plaything is, perhaps, a fate worse than undeath.

Power - Control. In all things, Sylah seeks this. It eludes her when she yearns for it the most. It crushes all it tries to hold tenderly.

Prejudice - The vampire, the stalking evil, the night-creeping horror. No longer human. We forget they ever were.

Relationships - To be (or to have been) human is to submit to the pain of knowing oneself from another. In romance, in friendship, in family, the sisters learn this again and again and again. To call someone a “lover”, a “sister”, a “father”... how could one word possibly encompass all that it entails to hold the knife that wounds your precious ones? By accident? On purpose? Does it matter?

Revenge - Zova seeks to find the truth behind the death of her father. She doesn’t know, despite everything. How could she possibly know?

Secrets - Concealed from the sisters, concealed about the sisters, concealed by the sisters--Sylah, Sonea, and Zova are plagued by that which is better left unsaid and unknown.

Self-awareness - If the sisters cannot realize the truth of their being, they and their town will suffer the cost.

Self-preservation - Who cares for you, when you are scorned by the one on whom you should rely? Who cares for you, when you’ve done the unforgivable? You have to do what you can. You can’t believe they’ll keep you safe.

Sexuality - The. Girls. Are. Fucking. 🎉

Temptation and Destruction - You know what it means to cross into undeath. All know this. And you do everything right, you are good. But the siren song of immortality rings--but you’re strong enough to resist it. Right?

Tagginggggg (gently…if you haven’t done it already….) @thewardenofwinter @lorenfinch @writernopal @writinglittlebeasts @yedithwrites and anyone else who may be interested.... <3333 (i mean it idk how else to express . i do mean it)

#writeblr #writeblr community #writers on tumblr #writers of tumblr #tag game #{sanguis in monte}

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blood-injections · 1 year ago

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hiii!! first of all, i think your background image (right word?)is super dope and also, for the ask game, 7, 20 and 55 if you don't mind!!

Hii!!! Background image/header yeah, thank youu its some of my art :) and thanks for the ask too <3

7. How do you choose which POV to write from?

I only ever write in third person, so theres no specific pov a lot of the time except for when the thoughts/feelings of like only one character are stated or like I'll put them first in paragraphs if that makes sense? So they're like the focus. Anyway in that case which is usually the case which i guess. Is pov. I think i just described pov. Idk when i think of pov i think of writing of a charater from first person which i never do. Anyway in those cases . Whats it called. Not third person omniscient which i guess would be knowing the inner thoughts of all the characters. Hang on let me google it. Oh third person subjective/limited thats it. Sorry i haven't been in an english class in a while lmao. ANYWAY the pov is generally whichever character I'm projecting onto most for that story 💀 which lately has been a lot of kobra kid and fun ghoul because they're my favorite little voodoo puppets to put through hell

20. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc

Oh for sure, especially right now because i dont have wifi where I'm living so i cant look up synonyms for stuff or alternate phrases like I'm used to when i feel somethings repeating too much, so some of the patterns i usually try to cut out might be more prevalent in the next few things i post if i dont bother going through them in a cafe somewhere lol. Lots of things are on purpose though like uhh themes angst specifically, someone dying or being presumed dead or getting captured or leaving and being found or coming back etc. Tearful reunions in 90% of my stuff. Theres like fifteen of those in my drafts rn ranging from one shots to like 20+ chapter things ive yet to start posting. they're just so fun to write, sue me.

55. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers' reactions to certain ones?

Kobra Kid and Fun Ghoul are my favorites to write for sure, at least rn, closely followed followed by the girl and Cherri then not as closely followed by Pony then Poison I'd say. I wouldn't say these favorites have been swayed by anyones reactions, theyre just who i relate the most to/project on the most and find easiest/most fun to write. These'll swap around sometimes i guess too depending on who im hyperfixating the most on, like rn show pony might be higher actually bc of something i just started, and a couple weeks ago Korse was up there bc i was experimenting with their character

#asks #ttlotfk #danger days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #corvidscrap

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saturnfairycat · 5 months ago

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Obsession, the series

Archive #11 | copyright to saturnfairycat

Author's Note: Here is the abstract and all three poems combined. I personally feel like there is a difference to when you read the poems separately, versus reading it all together in one sitting. Let me know what you think. I actually have a story inspired by these poems, if you are interested in me posting it, let me know! Enjoy :)

----------------------------------------------------

Abstract

When one compares their dependency on an item or being with an unhealthy tendency to forget the importance of being their own person. A siren is known for the obsession she produces just from singing; while a place of holiness can be known for saving those that have no other place to go. Obsession and adoration are two separate things, but sometimes the siren can be merely adored… while the building is seen as a cult designed for obsession. The comparison of the siren and church to the human's dependent heart is a wake up call for those who allow themselves to serve no other purpose than living in someone else’s life.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Obsession

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Woe the building that falls

To seek a soul whose pictured as gold,

makes artless mortals sway.

The siren theory is embodied as a place—

that is known for its embrace…

of worship, importune and obsession.

But to pray to who is equivocal…

they’re merely a god, merely a question.

You can’t treat a person like a church possession—

the inner walls creak and moan

against the protest and crack of bone.

Nicknamed Dulia for its glory,

but it drowns those who try to adore thee.

The plafond above our heads sing in pressure–

haunting the thought of being crushed.

Whilst they cry for their successor,

dust floated towards the exit as if being rushed.

The sky tends to fall away;

clouds imitate a chevet.

The sight itself creates much dismay,

but time is an illusion…

oh, such betray.

But what a church with no heaven?

Sky, empyrean, and the ether

don’t judge a star's demeanour!

Aperture with glass framework–

edging feelings with a smirk.

Reflection shows a shining gleam,

but true colour is never seen.

The sun has a shaded costume

using the moon as hecatomb.

It may use perfume as a facade…

but mien flares hearts exerting ballade.

If darkness plummets beneath our feet

may I pray for a deathless greet.

The devotee,

limp in their extremities,

served one purpose…and failed.

It drifted into sea like a dead anemone–

with no avail or memory.

-----------------------------

Infatuation

Summersweet, white alder, pepper bush—

wind that blows bouquets away with a swoosh.

A church, the ocean and the utter devotion

such words that are unremittingly

used and mentioned.

You must be annoyed and sick of the voices

telling you about the, oh so many choices…

that you can take.

It makes your cliff shake and ache against the currents

you’re trying to break.

Hundred of shouts turns into a song

while you still can’t get along—

with yourself and the image

that you portray as a sailor, paying primage.

You can’t love a siren,

moreover cage them in a shrine to admire in.

They didn’t draw you in with their beauty,

they were just on death duty.

Artless feelings are sweet and dependent

until you sneeze and crush flowers gifted,

not to the loved one but to the church—

a place of worship but for a search…

of pathetic purpose.

Arson ash that coughs up the lungs

makes heartthrobs hold their tongues.

It’s been so long since the reminiscence,

but existence with omniscience means that

one can’t help those that don’t want it.

Sailors should save those words for those who admit it.

Repetition shows a mind not working—

hiding behind the words of formal glory.

When the time comes that you consider your fate,

please stop placing your heart on a plate.

Not everything is worth dying for, therefore

realise this before you bleed even more.

----------------------------------------------

Siren's Curse

The feeling stills,

located deep in the heart and

washed away by emotions that don't depart.

Such betray hasn’t been seen

in years and years, oh it’s been centuries.

It’s not about creed

nor about faith,

but why does the siren continue to retaliate?

They don’t seek will or adoration,

but only sailors' shallow empty emotions.

Thus, greed is not a problem,

just a solution with an astrobleme.

The star-shaped wound within the heart

drowns out singing and works of art.

They focus on sole possessions, a measly painting

rather than just forever self-changing.

A place verses a person can be quite the personification

for a future naive adorer’s destination.

You compare a holy place

with a person that has no proper face.

A sailor counts

and so does a siren,

so don’t you dare postpone your responsibilities by naming it Psyren.

Yet you put them on top, as if an angel

told you that evil is an archangel.

Connections from siren to god

is a mockery for those that don’t have a facade.

Love yourself for what it’s worth–

not for the punishment of your birth.

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destineeallison · 1 year ago

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Random things I wrote between 2007 and 2016

Originally Re-Posted on Facebook on Various dates.

Dreams and aspirations, serve only to torture.

I live my life on a canvas; each day as another little stroke of the brush, adding up to the final big picture. Color and full of highlights, in all of my finer moments and dark shadows, for the moments I fell short.

There's emotion to every work of art What does this life convey? A deeper meaning behind every success, failure, and missed opportunity.

We live like notes bending and folding over the musical scale I am the high while you stay low

We live like melodies surrounding each other.

We are the music, everyday we change.

We fit a mood set by our minds and actions.

We feel the way our sounds do.

Embrace the beauty within us as one.

Put us in motion and we are forever changing, forever progressing, forever fitting.

Put us together and we drift, sway, and hiccup along these scales we call our homes.

While filling the empty sounds, we follow the leads of the metronome.

Silence cannot break us, Silence is our enemy in this war we call a song. Every sound in our ensemble, perfect together as one,

The rhythm we follow is what will hold us together, if we act as one, folding and bending over our shared scale.

What if every morning we woke up as a new person, knowing the past, of who we've become. What if every morning we woke up with new emotions, forgetting the ones that haunt us from where we once came.

Right outside the sounds are empty, and time is moving slowly. I'm anxious for something to come and sweep me away. Taking me to a new place, full of sounds, and actions. A place where the next step is always right around the corner.

We're one big play on words game. You tell me yours, and I'll recite back mine. We coincide so well, our words mixing together as opposites attracting. In one Idea, that I want you, and you want me, gone.

Reality is not a dream, and dreams are not real. So why do we live reality as getting everything we "dream" of, setting high expectations for ourselves, only to fall short in the end. We know that things never go as we plan, completely. Yet, we still live within our dreaming mentality.

It's amazing how someone can look so calm and peaceful on the outside, but you'd never guess the chaos and chemicals raging in their body. I guess you just have to look for the signs hidden in their eyes.

Inner-peace, happiness, self-love, selfless love, self-respect, serenity, a positive attitude and an open mind are necessary, and they all start and end with you.

Attain what you can for the benefit of yourself. Money and material won't make you feel rich, just momentarily privileged.

Happiness depends upon ourselves.

Dependency is nothing but a burden.

Make your own choices,

Do things that take courage.

You won't find happiness, sitting at home, wishing your life was better.

I'd take your breath away,

but I don't want to watch you suffocate.

I'm here to lift you up,

I'll breathe in the life you're missing.

The only one not going,

Family members always hospitalized, I thought it was another scare.

Quickly I learned that it's real you're unconscious, and because of the timing I can't be there.

I hope you know I love you. happy birthday bitch, it's life, I called to say what's up, letting you know you're brothers suffering and sometime this week hell be laying in a coffin.

Alcohol weed pills uppers downers we can try to numb the pain but one day when we're at work hiding from reality we'll turn around and catch her sucker punch to the face. She'll hit you so hard you lose your breath and no matter how hard you try you'll lack any ability to control how hard you cry . She'll take your life your pride your family, have you selling your soul. Anything to keep hold of the heart hardly beating.

I'm sorry, but The pain I feel isn't even that you're gone, it's the pain that your death left with mom.

She said she's feeling empty. it's untouchable And I have no control over her emotions. it's eating my inside that all she wants is to see her little boy alive. Death takes a toll and it's collecting on our mother, 60 years old, outliving her mother, son, and younger brother.

I visited the house we grew up in today. Seems like just yesterday you were helping take care of us. Look what became of is, siblings that never speak, holding on to grudges because of silly things, and our stubbornness to accept help when we need it the most. I know you lost hope. I saw it in the house, the cement floors and holes in the walls frank, why didn't you call? Any of us, we're family, I hate myself for turning down my mom sending me out here. I hate that I let you live alone, you were barely surviving, not living a life but making it by till you died. I feel infested, and not from the roaches, but the feelings I can't even bear to lock into. Frank, I love you, and I hope that you're in a better place, of peace and grace. As we lay you to rest our family will do their best to say their goodbyes one last time, just know that you will never be forgotten. Rest in peace, big brother.

I felt I couldn't cry till I saw your children walk in the chapel to witness the tree fallen that once held the apple. As the tears stream down the face of our mother, I can't help but notice laying in that casket is not a man I know as my brother.

Over the years, as we may have grown apart, our siblings grow old with each time the sky gets dark. It's not a matter of I love you, or the anger we've all felt, but the times that we need each other, we're there, still kids in our minds forever avoiding life's belt.

Don't jump so fast to clench another by the throat if your judgments impaired, leaving you unaware of intent. Listen to the words and view cues within how the body language curves before you fire back with your anger.

I hate the need to explain, when the understanding isn't there.

Why waste my time dumbing it down?

I know you're locked in on a blank stare.

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aemonds-sapphire · 4 years ago

Text

Caution: Slippery When Wet — Dabi x Reader (Smut)

Summary: Dabi just wanted to take a shower, and he didn’t care that you were in the way.

Warnings: NSFW. Orgasm denial. Overstimulation. Vaginal fingering. Quirkplay. Unprotected sex. Praise. Creampie.

Word count: 3.6k

A sudden loud bang snapped you out of your steam-induced daydream and had your heart skip a few beats in distress.

“What?!” you gnarled, eyes gazing through the foggy shower door only to be met with a pair of turquoise eyes.

Dabi.

“You done in there or what?”

Panic filled your entire body at once. “Get the fuck out!”

Any indication that you might be blessed with a peaceful shower session soon flew out the window as the young villain showed no intention of budging.

Thoughts on Dabi? You’d rather not have any. And not because you loathed him. Far from that Your body made sure that the most hostile emotion you had towards him was unquestionable sexual tension. Therefore, you really, really needed to train your mind not to fixate on him or the possibilities that might come from any interaction with him. In order to cope with this, you tried your best to mask your genuine feelings with resentment.

On the off chance your paths crossed while living together with the rest of the league, you always had your mind set on antagonizing him. You dreaded the possibility of anyone figuring out that — albeit buried deep within you —, you craved him.

“Not happening. I need a shower.”

Sliding the glass door, you peaked your head through the narrow slit only to be met with Dabi covered in... slime? From his dark hair all the way down to his boots.

“What is that awful smell?” you grimaced as the foul stench filled your nose.

“Collateral damage,” he said with a blank expression, eyes on yours. “You can thank Toga for that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Go wait outside. I’m almost done here.”

No answer.

“Out!” Yyou half-yelled, feeling heat creep through your cheeks, thoroughly glad that the fog glazing the shower door kept most of your body hidden from his gaze.

No answer yet again.

“Dabi!”

He shrugged and proceeded to remove his knee-length coat showing no concern that you were intensely staring at him, mouth agape in shock.

His filthy shirt went off next, revealing the uneven edges of his staple-covered skin across his upper chest. Your heart was racing at double speed and all your brain could conjure was that you most definitely should not allow your eyes to roam across his body like that. Dabi was too fucking hot — pun fully intended— for his own good, and suspected he knew that

That proved to be enough to snap you out of your trance. “Why are you taking your clothes off?!” Yyou blurted out, failing to realize how ridiculous that sounded given the context.

Dabi paused briefly as he was about to undo his belt. “Not showering with my clothes on... the fuck?” he remarked, arching a brow and glaring at you like you’d grown a third arm.

Panic hit you instantly. “Uh—Just wait!”

His slender fingers unbuckled the belt swiftly. “Doll, you’re wasting time. All that rambling and staring... could be done already.”

He was not wrong.

It suddenly dawned on you how easily he’d always manage to crawl under your skin. Whether he knew the effect he had on you or not, it remained unclear. But something inside you clung to the idea that, whatever it was that you felt for Dabi, it was somehow reciprocated.

Patches of suds began trailing down your temples and forehead, causing further distress.

“Just...” your voice trailed off, but sudden outrage burst from within you. “Don’t you have some decency?”

“No.”

He had managed to strip all of his clothes off until he was only left in his underwear, and he was about to—

“No! No fucking way!” you shrieked in dread, quickly having to wipe a few suds that were stinging your eyes. “Leave it—“

But before you could mouth further protests, you saw him yank his underwear down, which caused your eyes to reflexively close tightly.

A low chuckle was heard. “Calm down, princess. I won’t even look. Just wanna rinse off this slime.”

You were positively mortified from all this mess, and a large part of you cheered in pride as you managed to kept your feelings towards him out of the way.

For now, at least.

Immediately, you withdrew your head from the rack, and shoved the shower door shut, with one hand keeping it in place while the other reached out to grab a bottle from the corner shelf.

Dabi tugged at the door a few times before sighing. “Seriously? You gonna throw a... bottle of shampoo at me?” he drawled out, a slight hint of amusement taintIng his voice. “Terrifying. I can see why Shigaraki scouted you,” he added in blatant mockery.

The sudden confrontation had you wish some random hole in the ground would prop open and swallow you whole, effectively putting an end to this.

Your eyes flew open at once and you glared at the bottle in your hand that read: ‘Strawberry passion — let your senses be filled with bliss and calmness’. Now that was fucking ironic.

Another tug.

“Don’t make me burn this shit down.”

You scoffed. “You keep your eyes fucking shut, then. Not even a peak.”

“Sure, doll.”

Admitting defeat, you scooted to the corner of the stall, your back facing him as you heard the door slide open. You felt him brush past you, but managed to keep your composure. There was no point in stressing about this. Dabi was merely your... colleague? Coworker? Fellow... villain? It came with the territory, right?

You grasped the shower head and raised your arm to have warm water pour down on you. For a brief moment, you were able to ignore the man behind you, and just kept on rinsing as fat as you could to terminate this awkward situation.

Just a few more seconds...

But, of course, life seldom went as planned.

“Sharing is caring, doll,” his low voice rumbled, and you felt his breath fanning the nape of your neck, causing you to jolt.

The sudden proximity sent your brain into overdrive. Every single hair in your body stirred as goosebumps spread from the shiver running down your spine. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt his hand wrap around yours.

You tried to muster a few words, but the overwhelming sensation of having someone you felt so attracted to being so close to you, definitely proved to be a harder task than you’d imagined.

“Eyes shut...” you managed to mumble as a reminder, feeling the curtain of water shift to your back and ultimately leaving your body entirely.

Dabi let out a sigh of relief. “Fuck... this feels good.”

His choice of words had heat spread across you like wildfire. Unfortunately, the sudden loss of a heat source had your body quivering in an attempt to keep your temperature from dropping. You wrapped your arms across your chest out of reflex, but it did little to help.

That din’t go unnoticed by the young villain. “You cold?”

“Ju-just... hurry up...” you said between teetering teeth.

Silence fell between you two before you heard vague splashes of water. “I can warm you up.”

He was close to you once more. Too close. Close enough that you could feel his hot breath near your ear, and something else nudging at your backside.

Your head turned to glare at his half-hooded eyes. “No, thank you...”

His lips were dangerously close to yours, and from that angle you could see the way the metallic hoops on each side of his face strained but a little when he drew a faint grin.

“You sure you don’t want me to fuck you?”

That gave you a whiplash.

As soon a those words left his mouth, you gasped in confusion. “What?!”

But there was nothing to be confused about. It was a rhetorical question from him. You were suddenly aware that he knew. That he had been able to read your signs all along.

Dabi placed the shower head back in its holder, pressing his back fully against yours in the process.

That’s when you felt all of him.

From the hardened nipples to the cool edges of his staples, and all the way to his hard cock pressed against your ass. You shuddered under his touch, causing it to settle right in between your ass cheeks.

“Dabi...”

He bucked his hips lightly, his slippery cock gliding with ease as a deep growl ripped from him. Haziness swarmed your mind, and you pressed both hands on the cold tiles for support, welcoming the water that poured on you from the shower head.

“Say my name again...”

“Why...” you mewled back, swaying your hips sensually against him.

What the fuck...

This was probably a bad idea. You weren’t even sure how you allowed things escalate this quickly. Dabi could snap anyone in half if he felt like it; he could also incinerate anything just as easily. You supposed the dangers of meddling with someone this volatile added to the allure.

And he was aware of that fact.

He fed on it and used it to get you to surrender yourself to him.

“Say it,” he repeated his request, bringing both hands to grasp your hips.

Your eyes snapped open once he pressed a soft kiss on your neck.

“I hate you.”

You mentally slapped yourself for being so weak. Those words carried no weight whatsoever, and they only served to heave a taunting chuckle from him. Even though this entire situation had your face burning with heat, the rest of your body still struggled to keep your temperature up, causing you to shiver from time to time.

Dabi excelled at reading body language like no other. He took pride in being able to know someone’s true intention just from the way their body reacted to his presence. He was no stranger to the inner workings of women when it came to him; he knew precisely which strings to tug in order to get them to crave his touch.

You were no different.

In fact, you had completely and miserably failed at keeping your thirst for him at bay.

And with unprecedented expertise, Dabi had your body to bend to his will, granting you one of your deepest desires.

You felt his palms heat up against your skin.

“I... hate you...” your voice came out in a weak tremble.

Were you trying to convince him, or yourself?

His hands began sliding up your sides, leaving trails of warmth in their wake. You realized you were no longer quivering from loss of warmth; your shudders were stemmed from the way Dabi was slowly and carefully feeling you up. His heated hands moved to your breasts, and without any notice, he had both your nipples being rolled in between his fingers.

Instinctively, you bucked against him. “Fuck...”

Dabi let out a hiss in response. “Sure you hate me?”

He pinched your nipples lightly before grazing his staple-covered palms along the sensitive buds.

“Yes,” you blurted out firmly.

The metallic hoops spread across his palms teased you further.

But before your throbbing clit could welcome the new stimulus, he halted and the heat pooling on his fingertips quickly died down. “So you want me to stop.”

“No!” you protested as his hands abandoned your skin.

“Then what?” Dabi inquired, bringing one finger to trail down your spine, prompting your back to arch downwards and your ass to spring up invitingly. “All these mixed signals... tss.”

You managed to suppress a moan when you felt his slippery cock slide down to tease your entrance.

“Dabi...” you let out, trying to find a few words to say. “Eyes shut.”

He chuckled. “Doll... I have my cock pressed against your ass and leaking for you... does that even matter?”

Of course not. You weren’t even sure why you had said that... your mind was playing tricks on you.

Even so, you weren’t so lucky the second time around, and when he slapped your swollen clit with the tip, your mouth fell open in a strangled cry. You highly doubted the slick tiles would be able to support your body as he proceeded to place his cock in between your damp folds.

“Hold on tight, doll. I need to prep you for my cock first,” his voice dripped with lust. “Be a good girl and bend over.”

Your pussy clenched impulsively.

To say you were completely and ridiculously turned on was the understatement of the year. No amount of rationality would help you now. You were too far gone, and your desire for him clouded any shred of judgement in you.

There was no point in resisting him any longer.

You strongly held on to the shower faucet, in the hopes of it being enough to keep your knees from giving out on you from the overwhelming pleasure spreading across your clit.

He kept sliding his thick cock along your pussy lips coating it in your wetness. It was faintly embarrassing to think of how quickly you’d gotten soaked for him, but on the other hand, you couldn’t really blame yourself for it. Dabi was definitely a natural. You figured he had enough experience to get you all riled up in no time.

You felt him snake one arm around you as his hand travelled down to your pussy. In all honesty, you felt too empty. Even though you hadn’t seen his cock, you had felt it and you craved it more than his fingers at this point.

The palm of his hand brushed against your clit, earning an instant moan from him.

“Dabi... just... fuck me...” you panted in between groans as he teased you with the staples carved into his skin.

Those staples had long caught your attention, but you never thought in a million years that you’d find pleasure in having them brush against your most intimate parts.

His velvety voice came out in a low purr. “Patience... I need you soaked enough to take my cock.”

“I am!” you half-yelled, bucking your hips in an attempt to have his cock placed at your entrance.

The hand teasing your clit stopped abruptly. “Really? Lemme check, then,” just as soon as he whispered those words, he pulled back from you momentarily, pressed one hand on your lower back to have you at a desired angle, before shoving two long fingers inside your wet cunt.

It took all of you to hold back a guttural groan from echoing throughout the bathroom. You bit down on your lower lip, an you reckoned it wouldn’t take long to draw blood. He held you firmly in place with his free hand gripping your hip while he fucked you with his fingers.

“You’re not just soaked... you’re fucking drenched,” he said in bewilderment, curling his digits inside you. “Think you can take a third one?”

You felt another fingertip prodding at your entrance, but you could only nod. There was no way you were going to open your damn mouth. The implications of doing so were far too severe, and you dreaded the idea of anyone outside being able to hear you moan for Dabi.

His third finger struggled at first to join the others. “Tight... just part your legs, doll...”

Doing as he instructed, he finally managed to get the slender digit to slide all the way in, until he was buried in you knuckle-deep. You’d never felt this stretched out before, and the newfound sensation was enough to finally have you let go of your lip and have your mouth fall open in a sigh of pure bliss.

“Now that’s a good girl,” he praised you, while finger-fucking you at a steady rhythm. “You’re literally milking my fingers...”

From the way his voice was starting to emerge fully strained, you figured this was also taking a toll on him. Having your walls involuntarily clench around his moving fingers and hearing him occasionally growl from it, had your ego soar dangerously high. Your entire body was urging you to cum, and as despair overcame your senses, you hand one han settle between your legs to rub your needy clit.

Dabi suddenly stopped thrusting his fingers, and clicked his tongue. “Stop.”

Annoyance hit you hard from the loss of his stimulation. “Fuck!”

His hand grabbed yours. “Let me make you cum. Just me.”

As soon as your gripped the faucet again with both hands, Dabi jumpstarted his ministrations in order to help you reach your much desired high.

“Say my name.”

You truly didn’t want to do that. The fear of losing control and having your moans being heard, kept you from heeding his request once again.

But Dabi had a few tricks up his sleeve.

Both his index and middle fingers pressed against your clit, and you felt the fingertips starting to heat up. He was definitely using his quirk in order to help the heat in your lower belly to intensify. It was a neat trick coming from him, and it was most welcome as you felt the familiar coil of an upcoming orgasm build inside you with each passing second.

“Say. It.”

Obscene soppy sounds left your tight pussy as he showed no signs of faltering his pace. Your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth hung open as you tightened around him, preparing to let a peak of pleasure wash over your body.

“Fuck... fu-fuck... I...” you mumbled incoherently, not able to muster any comprehensible thoughts.

You were so close.

Your hips jolted into his hand, and just as you were about to cum, you felt sudden emptiness and were left clenching around nothing nothing.

“What the fuck?!” You cried out indignantly. “Why?!”

The high inside your suddenly plummeted back to the ground, leaving you on the verge of tears.

Dabi gave your ass cheek a light smack. “Told you to say my name.”

You turned your head to give him a death glare. “Fuck you!”

He pressed the tip of his cock at your entrance. “Besides, I want you milking my cock.”

With one hard thrust, he pushed himself halfway inside you, unable to hold back a satisfied growl. Right then you understood exactly why he insisted on preparing you for him. He was definitely thicker and bigger than average. The sudden discomfort had you clench tightly around him in reflex, preventing him from going balls deep at once.

“Stop... fuck... stop being so fucking tight....” Dabi growled, stilling inside you. “Relax, doll...”

Your took a few deep breaths as your pussy adjusted to his unexpected size. He placed his hands on your hips, brushing his thumbs in circles across your flushed skin. It was most likely Dabi’s own way of offering comfort.

You weren’t sure how many seconds passed, but you were genuinely grateful he was waiting for you to finally loosen up and allowed his cock to finally slide all the way in.

A sudden gasp emerged from within you as his fingers gripped your hips vigorously, guiding you along his length. He started out slowly, but his self-restraint wasn’t enough to keep him from thrusting faster and deeper into you. The pace he set resembled that of someone on the edge of losing their sanity.

“You really wanna make me cum fast with that tight pussy of yours...”

His words were like fuel to the fire that once more threatened to get out of control soon enough. Your hands desperately grasped the faucet as pleasure overwhelmed you. A few more thrusts had your thighs starting to quiver.

Dabi had his fingers on your clit once again, determined to deliver all the pleasure he could possibly provide.

“Dabi... Dabi!”

His hips faltered for a split second. “Fuck... such a good and tight girl...”

You could hardly breathe once he set a new rhythm, which nearly had your face getting pressed against your hands from the brutal force.

“Dabi...” you mewled, feeling droplets of water mix with your own saliva as strings of spit hung from the corners of your mouth. You were officially drooling for this man.

In no time, your vision started to tunnel as you were thrown into the pinnacle of sheer bliss. Your mind went blank for a brief moment, with his name coming out in broken moans. The ecstatic orgasm had your pussy ripple and squeeze around his cock mercilessly as you kept rocking your hips against his desperate to ride out your high for as long as possible.

“Fuck this...” you heard him mumble at one point, his groans overcame your own. “Fuck!”

His own release was nearing, that much was certain. He was pounding into you hard and fast, jackhammering into you like his life depended on it, driving the breath from your lungs.

You had long descended from your orgasm, but you were still left to deal with the overstimulation from his cock sliding in and out of you relentlessly.

Tears soon prickled the corners of your eyes. “Oh my... god... enough.... Dabi...”

He responded by rubbing your clit harder in unison with his thrusts.

“Fuuuuuuck!”

His long drawn out groan let you know he had finally reached his peak. Your own knees began to tremble from having to hold your body in that position for so long, but he made sure you weren’t going anywhere. With a few pumps of his hips in a broken rhythm, you felt hot sprays of cum shoot inside your pussy.

He slapped your ass cheek once he was done, enjoying the sight of your pussy still tightly wrapped around him.

“What a pretty pussy....”

Your heart was still racing and your breath coming out uneven.

In one swift motion, he fully slid from inside you, and you immediately felt his cum drip as your walls contracted. “Let’s get you all cleaned up. Then we can take a proper shower.”

You were fairly certain you might regret what just happened later on, but for now, you chose to brush that aside.

Dabi wasn’t someone easy to read.

He most definitely wasn’t someone easy to get.

For the time being, you’d relish on the fact that you had made him cum. Probably not something curriculum worthy, but it was good for you and your ego.

Masterlist

#dabi x reader #dabi #dabi smut #dabi x y/n #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi x you #dabi imagine #dabi headcanons #todoroki touya #touya #mha smut #bnha smut #my hero academia smut #dabi scenarios

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qtipcottonbuds · 3 years ago

Text

𝙋𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙎𝙀 𝘿𝙀𝙇𝙄𝙑𝙀𝙍.

admitting to something that happened to me that is a bit embarrassing. also i think this could be a bit better >:(( set in the 80′s >:D

warnings ;; crushes, mutual pining and a little bit of embarrassment, and possibly mild language etc.

by qtipcottonbuds 2022. do not repost.

𝗞𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗔 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

Skidding to a halt as worn high-tops skuff firmly against the damp sidewalk (don’t scrape your feet across the floor!) - the thin bicycle tires squeal from the friction before grating to a stop. Being mindful as he slips his trainers from under the buckles on the pedals, he curses to himself; the cuffs of his denim jeans already dotted with droplets of mud.

He’d only managed to get these the week prior with last week’s pay.

Tilting his ankle to the side, Eijirou eyed the damage done. Yikes. Okay, on the bright side, it made him look a little rugged, he had to admit that. The roughened up combination of threadbare jeans and his freshly cut mullet? Sure, the intense dual-coloured red and blue high visibility jacket wasn’t that complementary (he stuck out like a sore-thumb. A fluorescent, highlighted sore-thumb at that) but, it was potentially a new style to impress the new local- locals, locals with. Not a single specific neighbour. Not at all. Nor the person he was delivering to tonight.

Again.

He did not have a crush. It was just admiration; scouts honour.

Adjusting his cap, he sifts through the inner pockets of his jackets, recognising the familiar feeling of the compact wired notepad before sliding it out, flipping through the pages for a messily written-

(1 six-inch Margherita Pizza).

Good choice.

One more night and the last delivery. Just on time. Although, somehow, the worn novelty of “In thirty minutes guaranteed! Or three dollars off your order!” had been instead interpreted (his manager referred to it as just a sign of the times) as, “In thirty minutes, or for free!” and Eijirou really, really couldn’t bring himself to handle another argument with a customer purely because he was one minute outside of the time slot - the situation the night before had nearly resulted in missing out on two more extra customers.

Luckily enough, into the earlier hours of Friday nights, Domino’s was relatively less busy - and dealing with stingy customers during these workshifts had very low chances of appearing - something Eijirou would be eternally grateful for every upcoming week. (And seeing you, seeing you was real nice).

Stuffing the notepad back into his pouch, briefly having to jerk his hand back from being caught on a frayed piece of string, he turns on his heel, unhooking the hot-bag from the basket and onto his shoulder. Mentally steeling himself, he instinctively leans in, aiming for the doorbell only to baulk back, catching glimpses of something moving around behind the living room curtains.

What? Squinting, still remaining at the doorstep, he tilts his head up, attempting to catch sight (pushing down the worries of being seen potentially as a creep, he was concerned - not scared) of whatever was shuffling back and forth across the room.

It’s a blur of clothing, and then-

It’s you; wired headphones secure around your head, and one hand firmly gripped around the cassette player, swaying back and forth and Eijirou fights the urge to break out into a smile. You certainly had some moves. Well known moves? Not so much, but what’s wrong with reinventing the wheel?

You’re side stepping now, rolling your shoulders repetitively as you mouth the words, completely and utterly unaware - until your gaze unintentionally meets his through the transparent curtains. And you pause.

He’s unsure whether to look away first, both at a standoff. This was not how he envisioned sweeping you off your feet, hell, attempting to take you out at least - and now he’s standing unnaturally still, (how do you not stand normally? Stand normally!) trying to offer an approachable smile that only ends up as a constipated grimace.

You’ve disappeared from sight before he can fully register it.

(It’s over. Before it even started. And the past two weeks of interactions were going so well. He can’t show his face here, not in this neighbourhood)-

Shifting stiffly from side to side, Eijirou blinks at the light suddenly flooding his line of sight as the front door begins to open, accompanied by an ungraceful thud of headphones against the side of the door. That definitely took out one of the wires - he knew all too well.

It’s a bumbling, awkward sort of atmosphere, only broken into by the faint but audible buzz of the synth beats pulsing through the headphones.

“I’m sorry you had to, uh… witness that, oh shit; and I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long?”

(His palms feel balmy, moreso than usual, but it’s okay, he can blame it on the grease from the pizza).

“No, no, if I’m honest, you had some pretty good moves,” it’s almost like he’s left his body and witnessing himself from a third person perspective, mental alarms going into overdrive as his brain fails to connect to his mouth, “Maybe you can teach me how to dance sometime?”

You pause, once more.

(Eijirou wants to bury himself. Preferably into the ground. Further than six feet, maybe into the centre of the Earth’s core. Whatever is furthest away from where he is right now).

He can feel his cheeks burning up, eyes darting to the floor, berating himself; it was sappy, so fucking cheesy, it wasn’t even with the help of the steadily cooling Margharita flavoured pizza in his thermal bag to top it all off-

“You know what,” as he glances back up briefly, you’re slouching now, leaning into the doorframe, smiling, “I’m down to teach you some of my iconic moves. Are you maybe free tomorrow, delivery boy?”

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #bnha eijiro kirishima #kirishima eijirou #mha kirishima #bnha kirishima #gender neutral character #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral insert #x gender neutral reader #x female reader #x male reader #kirishima x gender neutral reader #kirishima x male reader #kirishima x female reader

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onlyswan · 3 years ago

Text

unmoored | jjk

→ genre: angst, fluff ?, mentions of sex

→ warnings: death, depression, grief

→ word count: 3.1k

summary: unmoored (adj.) insecure, confused, or lacking contact with reality.

note: got around to reading a poetry book since forever and then i jus had to take a break and do this ik no one rlly likes this stuff here let me share anyways :]

~*~

jungkook asked you once about two years ago, whether you want to be buried or cremated. he looked at you wide-eyed waiting for an answer while his thumb traced the lines on your palms and the colors of the sunset colored him breathtaking. the waves washed over your ankles and reached the hem of your dress. you couldn’t speak. not because it was a sensitive topic in the sense that you wanted to die or you were terrified of dying, but because you genuinely never thought that far ahead. and then ever so frankly, after pondering between the two choices, you told him you don’t care. you asked him the same question and said you’ll go along with whichever he wants.

we get born into this world. we are innocent until we are not. we suffer and we rejoice. we laugh and we scream and we cry. we fight battles, and whether we win or not, even if we don’t choose to, we end up sacrificing something. worse, everything. worst, everything including yourself. then you spend a lot of time trying to be alright with that. keyword, try. you firmly believe that no one is truly okay with it, they just find something else to fill the void and hopefully, complete them again. perhaps, to even become a much better person than they were before. it’s not necessarily a bad thing. you think it’s living and facing the downfalls of what it means to be human. the concept of happiness is vague, but you like to believe you are well acquainted with inner peace.

fuck, you admit it. jungkook filled in all the broken cracks in your heart and keeps it together in his hands. some days, you are a warm and soft fresh baked bread. some days, you are salt water. he brings your soul serenity and light. you might even go as far as he helped you align your chakras. are you ashamed of it? no. will you ever say this outloud? no. but you know he knows, and you know you mean as much to him. of course, he’d use different metaphors. probably, ones that sound better and prettier than yours.

where were you? oh right, and then we die.

you couldn’t sleep that night. outside, the waves were still washing over the shore. from your view, a small part of the moon was submerged in the sea. the thought you’ve been mulling over for the past four hours, since when jungkook said he wanted to be cremated and to remain forever in one of the vases you shaped and sculpted and painted with your small (as he would often describe) hands. if seeds were to be planted in his ashes, you were certain the most glorious flowers would grow from the traces of him left behind on the land of the living. and you were so desperate to come up with a name that would do him justice.

jeon jungkook, a force of nature. my favorite person in the universe. love, joy, grace, drive, courage, and wondrous talents personified into such a sensational human being. jungkook as a flower would love to be under the sun, but he stays vibrant even in the darkest and coldest of nights. you might notice his head gradually hanging low if you don’t converse with him enough everyday. he enjoys listening to stories. he won’t get tired of listening to the same one. he won’t mind listening to the same day you live over and over again, with insignificant varied details sprinkled in between from time to time. he lives the same way. he will also sway or dance if he hears music.

most importantly, he doesn’t grow fast. he takes his time. he doesn’t feel the need to rush. so don’t worry too much. you don’t have to overdo it with water or fertilizer. you’ll only end up killing him. no one likes to get smothered, not even plants. his petals will wither away and become one with his soil again. however, he will spurt out as the tiniest thing like he was from the very beginning. like a phoenix, almost. only, jungkook doesn’t like losing his progress.

his light snores awoke your tranced vessel, then you knocked on wood and was tempted to bash your ahead against it for even thinking about your boyfriend’s death. you sighed and laid comfortably beside him, running your fingertips on his skin to trace his features. you spend quite a lot of time trying to memorize every single detail your not-so-perfect eyes can manage to catch. it can be enthralling and eye-opening, exploring the wonders and depths of another human being. you lost cost how many times you’ve kissed the mole on his neck, or how many times you’ve watched his eyelashes kiss his cheeks. but you’d do it a billion times more.

you giggled when one of his eyes popped open, and the other one. his rasp groggy voice vibrated on his chest. “why are you still awake?”

“i’m cold because you hogged the blanket.” you reasoned. he did hog the blanket, except that was not the reason you were still awake.

“oh, i’m sorry, baby.” he pulled the blanket from under him and draped it over your only panty clad body, pulling you closer to him to cage you in his embrace. the skin-to-skin contact made you feel many things all at once. but mostly, at peace.

“all nice and warm now?”

you hummed as an answer, sleepiness washing over you, at last.

“i love you so much.” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to your forehead and tilting your chin up to press his lips against yours.

“i love you, too,” you bumped your nose against his, and his warm breath of quiet laughter fanned over your face.

soon enough, your breathing became in the same rhythm as his.

—

you stumbled off the bed, rubbing the sleep off your eyes and rushing to the living room. the morning news was on, something about a train malfunctioning in the middle of the tracks. the crack on your television was exactly on the reporter’s face, so you couldn’t make him out. the dishes from the past two days were still unwashed and your laundry was piling up, but you were running late for work, so you decided to get them done once you were home.

after sparing a glance at the table standing beside the half open window, you left your home and kept the television turned on. the weather was nice. the sunlight was friendly and inviting that you didn’t mind being under it while walking your way to work. walking is the simplest exercise, therefore, you love it.

“hmmm?” you hummed in question when your co-worker called out your name. you were focused on the clay spinning on the pottery wheel, throwing (shaping) it based on a very precise request.

“someone wants to make an order of this vase.” he showed you a picture, and you had to stop what you were doing to take another look, grabbing it from his hand. “you made that four months ago, was it?“

the date was written on the lower right corner.

“one of our regulars saw it pinned outside and wants it for her sunflowers. just make the neck wider.”

you breathed shakily, trying to compose yourself. it was the same vase you keep in your living room. the shape is unique because you made it with a particular purpose in mind, the painting inspired by the most memorable birthday of your life. you couldn’t possibly make the same one again, and you refused to.

you tucked the picture back into the pocket of his apron. “i’m sorry, i can’t do it. i won’t allow anyone else to do it, either.”

“why not? she’s a regular client. we might lose her!”

you came back to your work to distract yourself from crying. “i made up my mind. please respect my decision regarding my work and my art.”

“guess i gotta clean up your mess again. i’ll be the one to hear it from her, you know that?” he grumbled, purposely bumping against the chair as he left.

the person who bought the teapot you made that day may not know it, but you literally poured your tears into creating it. and you hope they are using it well.

—

you pushed the backdoor open, the sudden gush of air blowing on your face. you coughed lightly when you smelled smoke.

“you were a bit mean to him earlier.”

she looked at you with a smirk on her lips, a cigarette between her fingers. you gave her a stern look and with a sigh, she dropped it on the ground and put it out it using the heel of her boots.

you leaned against the wall beside her and stared thoughtlessly at the opposite one scattered with different colored graffiti. “he was being unprofessional and whiny.”

“you did what you had to do.” she moved closer and rested her head over your shoulder. your breathing hitched at the action, but it wasn’t new. “and even if he tried, he would never be on par with your talents.”

“don’t let him hear you say that.” you chuckled, the corner of your eyes crinkling as looked at her face.

“i’m not sure if you’re too kind to hurt his feelings or too evil for enjoying watching him ruin himself just to get on your level.”

a genuine smile formed on your lips, the first one in a few weeks. “i’m not so sure either.”

and then her lips was on yours. you could feel your heart thumping aggressively in your chest and you were terrified it would burst into pink mist. this- this wasn’t new either. she was an enigma to you. the most confusing combination of light and darkness. bitter and sweet. heaven and hell.

do you really want this? or do you just can’t stand to be alone? to be touch starved? you have never felt so repulsed by the thrill running in your veins. jungkook is in an unusual looking vase designed to carry both his remains and his favorite flowers, tiger lilies. you painted the waterfalls you visited together on your birthday last year on it. jungkook is in your living room, sitting by the half-open window, listening or maybe even watching the television you left turned on for him. jungkook is dead. he has been dead for a hundred and twenty-six days. certainly, he must want you to find love again. he knew that you get lonely all the time. but why? why does it still feel like cheating? why? why did you have to cry when you started to imagine him being in her place instead?

she pulled away with a hurt expression, looking at the mess she was holding in her hands. your uncontrollable sobbing filled the deserted alley and you wanted the ground to swallow you and never spit you back out again. strings of curses and the words i can’t and i’m sorry escaped your mouth like a desperate, forlorn prayer.

“no, no, no. i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have done that. fuck, i’m sorry. i wasn’t thinking.” she pulled you in for a tight hug, and she smelled like cigarettes and roses. jungkook smelled like the beach and vanilla.

after a few minutes, you calmed down. alas, your necklace had to get caught on her long jet black hair. with shaky hands, you tried to untangle it, but she gently pushed them away and did it herself. she released your engagement ring from her hair with ease, and she looked at it with an emotion in her light brown eyes you couldn’t decipher.

“we should go back to work.” she nodded, and you went back in the building with a distance between you that made you feel uneasy.

—

with not being in good terms with two of your co-workers, you opted to clock out of work three hours early. you told your superior that you weren’t feeling well; you’d just have to extend on other days and lock up the place.

“should i cut these the same length as you always ask for?” the sweet old woman asked, large scissors ready to trim the stem of the purple tiger lilies.

you smiled at her, nodding. you look sadder when you smile, she noticed. she couldn’t explain why though, and she doesn’t want to cross the line and make you feel uncomforable. “always.”

“i kept these ones for you. this young boy wanted to buy them for the girl he’s courting. what a precious boy he was! doing it the old fashioned way. i am delighted that they still do that these days. flowers are such a sweet thing. aside from it keeps the business going, of course, of course.” she rambled excitedly, before actually getting down with what she was supposed to do.

you found her adorable, and you loved listening to her. you’ve grown attached to her for the past four months. her flower shop is less than ten minutes away from home. she knew jungkook. she loved jungkook. she calls him a precious boy, too. this was where he used to buy the flowers he gave to you when you went on dates or when he simply wanted to make you smile. he used to speak so lovingly and fondly of you, she shared the first time you visited. she is one of the remaining connections you have with him. how could you not love her and cherish her?

“be careful on your way home, dear. i’ll have fresh and beautiful flowers for you again next week. i’ll pick out the best for your precious boy.”

you gave her a hug before leaving, the bell sounds tickled your ears for a few seconds until they became muffled and faded.

there are some days when walking the same one way streets you used to walk with him was pure torture. this day was one of those days. jungkook, the ever hopeless romantic, waltzing and spinning with you from one streetlamp to the next. and you regret all the times you were the first to pull away.

the house was the same way you left it, except instead of the morning news, a famous game show was on the television. jungkook found the show hilarious, and if you just try hard enough, you could see him on the couch. his nose is scrunched up adorably while he yells at the screen as if the players from the studio would be able to hear his angry instructions.

“if only you moved a little farther to the left like i told you, you would’ve won the brand new car!”

“i guessed it right! argh, if only i was there instead, we could buy that two-storey house that you dream of. with the garden and giant swing. we don’t have to wait two more years!”

or on some days,

“baby, should we join as a duo and come in third place on purpose? maldives doesn’t sound too bad.”

his commentary made watching the show a hundred times more entertaining, but he’s gone now, so it became corny in your eyes again. plus, it makes you miss him so much that you can’t breathe. that’s why you threw the remote control at the screen yesterday. yes, that’s where the crack came from. yes, you regret it.

you made sure the flowers were dry before you replaced the dying orange tiger lilies with the fresh purple ones. “i’ve been doing this consistently for the past months, you know? i wonder if i’ll do this forever.”

you stayed quiet for a few seconds, admiring the sunset from the window. “everything was so simple to me, then they stopped being simple when i lost you. i don’t understand anything. i keep asking questions and arriving back to the answer; zero and none. have i been too careless and shallow my entire life?”

no one answered back, of course. the walls of the empty house were mocking you. you just knew. you rested your cheek on your palm and observed the details of your own artwork, eyes trailing up to the flowers.

“kook, i think i have an answer now. i’m sorry that it took me so long . . . if i were to die right now, i think i want to be buried.”

your fingers traced the waterfalls as you tried your best to recall what it felt like to be under it along with your lover. it was the most wonderful time of your life. when jungkook’s lips were on yours and his hands were all over your body. when you cried out of happiness when he slipped the ring on your finger.

you could never forget the sight of him down on one knee, shaky hands holding the velvet box open and hopeful doe eyes anticipating your answer to the most cliche but nerve wracking question to ask, will you marry me?

and the sudden surge of utter glee in his system when you said yes! that he started jumping up and down on the cloud-like bed with the biggest smile on his handsome face. he scooped you up so effortlessly in his arms to heighten all your senses to the extreme with one of the best kisses you’ve ever shared.

you were up until the dawn making love and cursing and promising. happiness. you didn’t like that word, but you couldn’t find any other way to describe that feeling. it was happiness. the word they speak so much of. to you, he was happiness.

“no one in the world will take care of me like i take care of you. no one knows me that way, only you. i think if i choose the other option, they’ll just sprinkle me on the ocean or some shit like that. you know, like in the movies.”

if he was there, he would laugh. laugh hard and dramatically fall over your lap and crush you under his weight until the both of you can’t breathe.

“i’ve been thinking about getting a pet. not a cat, because i don’t want to clean you off the floor. a bunny? a bird? maybe. what about a dog? corgis are adorable, i remember you told me a few times.”

but there was only the defeaning silence that eats you whole every damn day.

“a corgi it is.”

~*~

note: if you made it this far thank you for reading! <3

#jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #bts drabbles #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook one shot #jungkook smut

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hotgirltarot · 3 years ago

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Pick A Card: How will You be Impacted the Rest of 2021?

Hello Baddies! We hope you're ready, because it's time for another Pick A Card! This time we are looking into what the rest of 2021 has in store for you, and more precisely what will impact you in this second half of the year. Choose your pile down below and read what the rest of 2021 has in store for you! Remember to have fun with it and take what resonate and leave what doesn't! Tips are accepted and appreciated at $DejaWash19. We accept Paypal as well! Pile 1: Amazonite (Cloud) Pile 2: Labradorite (Turtle) Pile 3: Clear Quartz (Pyramid) Pile 4: Pink Halite (Cluster)

Pile 1: Amazonite (Cloud)

Hello pile 1! There are a few minor changes coming to you the rest of 2021 but most of them require you to be calm, gentle and let spirit be your guide. All your changes will make you a better person and are for the better. We are here to warn you of a problem, either now or in the next few months that will come from you making a poor choice or decision. At the time, you may not have known it was a poor decision and it will create some conflict for you. You will want to try to defend yourself, be a little stubborn and refuse to compromise. However, your Spirit Guides want you to remain calm and grounded in your communication. You will gain respect of others and find common ground that is pleasing to you if you do. Remember that understanding others and their needs will be more powerful at this time than putting your own first. If you do that, you will be rewarded tenfold. This next half of the year, the change needs to happen within yourself and how you externalize and/or deal with negativity. there might have been people or a significant other that has wronged you in the past, something that affected you deeply. It is time to let those feelings go and forgive if you can. If you are not ready for forgiveness, allowing those feelings to be processed and let go of will do you a lot of good. It is time to be the bigger person if this is someone that acted immaturely or unfairly towards you. This rest of 2021, you will be able to have a healthier relationship with yourself and others and recognize the signs and red flags when it comes to emotional issues.

Spirit is warning you to listen to your intuition and pick your battles carefully. Some situations and people in your life are not as they appear to be, trust your instincts to see past the illusion... Think before you act, don't be impulsive when it comes to conflicts, and be careful of your words. Some of you are going to be challenged by insecurities and repressed emotions as they will resurface by the end of the year that you will have to heal before moving into 2022. There is a strong focus on starting new traditions and doing things on your own for the rest of 2021. Luck is on your side and a big change is coming into your life, a positive change. The path to this change will not be an easy one as the Universe has to prepare you for it. Spirit is encouraging you on healing past issues and move past your fears and anxiety. You will need to be confident and have faith in your own abilities when this change comes into your life. Your guides and Angels are assisting and protecting you. All the answers you have are positive as long as you take the courage to make the change and work on yourself. Be more positive and make sure to write a gratitude list. If things are getting too stressful and you are having a hard time coping with your emotions make sure to write them out it will be easier for you to deal with.

Pile 2: Labradorite (Turtle)

Hi Pile 2! This pile has a hard time staying on the path. You are letting external forces, your fears, and anxiety sway you away from your path easily. Spirit is encouraging you to stand up for what you want/believe in. Be strong-willed and maintain control of your own life. The Universe may be challenging you right now to see if you will give up easily. Don’t lose sight of the end goal, stay focused, and trust your intuition. There are a lot of blessings coming to you and this phase will not last forever. Trust the divine timing, be self-aware, take control of your own life, and don't expect others to do everything for you. You have all the answers. There is a strong focus on physical appearance and not enough on inner beauty, don't forget that beauty is internal as well as external.

The big change coming for you this year is consistency. You have projects, ideas, and goals, but it's all something that stays in the abstract. It is time to get back to the drawing bord and set up a plan because this remainder of the year is the time to materialize them! You are the type of person that gets discouraged easily in front of setbacks or go into these funks where you feel low vibrational. Now, you will start to understand that consistency is key, regardless of obstacles. When you keep at it and get back up or don't stop in front of obstacles, the options are limitless! Your happiness is a result of being one with Spirit’s plan for your life. Remember, all your hard work and commitment will pay off and are reciprocated by the universe. Hold your vision of the future, avoid stagnation, and have faith. You will discover this new side of yourself that can achieve whatever it wants when you put your mind to it. If there is clutter around you, or people that only bring you down, it is time to get rid of them! We only put our best foot forward from now on, and we bring with us only the people that want to see us thrive and give constructive criticism. By the end of the year, you will be in a happy place, feeling joy and contentment and a sense of fulfillment. Also, there is possibly new love coming in! You will get to know someone and build a solid foundation for a potential long-term commitment ♥

Pile 3: Clear Quartz (Pyramid)

The first half of the year may have felt chaotic, be externally (situations around you), or internally (within you/chaotic thoughts and emotions). You may be in a situation where you don’t see the light at the end of the tunnel or where you have so many options you don’t know which one to pick.

Spirit wants you to surrender and trust the universe right now. Don't be scared of the unknown and dare to take action. There is a person in your life who could be a friend, family member, or lover who is not treating you well or giving you what you want/need in a relationship, and they will never do it. You need to get away from this situation. Stop and look at how many things you have accomplished in the past, and you will continue to do so in the future. Celebrate yourself! In the next months, you will be living your happy ever after and can look forward to your plans/ projects being successful. If you have been away from family, friends, or in a long-distance relationship you can expect to reunite with them by the end of the year. Don't give up and keep working hard, stay committed to your plans. The effort you are putting in right now will pay off and lead to great rewards. Even if now you feel like it's getting hard and the stress is taking over, don't give up. You are so close to achieving success! Your Spirit Guides and Angels are assisting and working things out for you at the moment. You might not have all the facts and all the tools yet, but you are still in a good position. Don't give up! The skills and lessons you are learning now will help you moving forward in life. You will come from this experience smarter and with more self-confidence from achieving your dreams. Do things that keep you motivated, meditate more and make sure your mental health is taken care of.

A major theme of the rest of the year will be for you to take a leap of faith and step out of your comfort zone. You need to face a fear and get over it. You are supported by your guides, and you will be taken care of in difficult times. Stand on your own two feet and know that you can take on anything that comes to you. While you may be in chaos and conflict right now, know that success is assured. Another change coming for you is peace. Peace of mind, in your current situation, and sorting things out. You will get into the flow of life in general. You should remember to always meditate, today and everyday, as it will help calm the turbulence around you. Also, you may have a reconciliation with an old friend or lover. We are here to remind you to make time for friendship. Let the people around you know how much they matter to you. Also, there is a new stream of money or abundance coming to you. This will flourish by the end of the year, making you more secure and rewarded.

Pile 4: Pink Halite (Cluster)

This Pile is inherently strong-willed and confident in yourself, what you do, and what you believe in. However, we see this pile is feeling burnt out and has a lot of responsibilities in their life atm. You are feeling stressed and there is a huge weight on your shoulders right now that is making your feel stuck. Don't let delays in your life make you lose focus from your goal. You are getting a little called out Pile 4 for being a little lazy. You may be trying to get rewards without putting the work in. There is a new cycle coming for you, a beginning of renewed confidence and energy. You are ready to do you and go after your goals. Know that your dreams can come true! Your life has the potential for profound transformation by the end of the year. Keep manifesting, keep demanding your desires from the Universe because Spirit is ready to support you and give you what you want as soon as you start putting in the work and stop making excuses. There is a strong female figure in your life who will protect you and help you overcome your problems. Be open to receiving constructive criticism from people in your life and listen to it. Be more open-minded and willing to change for your own good. Don't be afraid to ask for help if you need it from your friend, family, and Spirit Guides! Asking people for help can be a big step for some of you in your emotional and spiritual growth. Make sure you are looking for affection in the right places some people won't give it to you no matter how hard you try to please them. You're not for everyone! Embrace your weirdness and accept yourself for who you are. Work on self-love, spend some time with yourself, and enjoy your own company. Don't stop working on yourself! Now is a thrilling time of epiphanies, inspired ideas and innovation. New experiences are coming your way, be ready for change. Luck is on your side! Keep being optimistic, tap into your spirituality and have faith! For some of you, there is a romantic vibe in this reading. If you are involved with someone that where things have never evolved into romantic territory, this might be a sign that things will move to the next level. Or it could be someone completely new, a new romantic interest where things start off more physical. Explore, examine and do not fear the changes that may come, for Spirit wants to shower you with love, success and abundance that you hope to experience. Also, you may embark on a new career/job or promotion by the end of the year. Expect the unexpected for the rest of 2021! Gifts given, new romance, secret admirers and new experiences to name a few. However, be careful in money matters. Try not to indulge too much and go overboard when you are in a period of happiness.

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fishstyx · 4 years ago

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“put the maid outfit on.”

featuring. sub!nagito komaeda x fem!reader

wc. 2.2k

genre. smut

tw. nsfw, penetration (pegging), orgasm denial/edging, praise kink, mild (mild!) toxic masculinity

synopsis. peg nagito 2021 + everyone’s favorite e-boy trend.

“You really think I look good in this..?”

Your jaw slackens as Nagito materializes in the doorway, fingers fiddling with the hem of his skirt. His shoulders hunch over and his legs bend at the knee, but if he’s trying to make himself smaller, it does little to obscure your view. The costume fits him so well, corset detailing and silk satin bows lining his midriff, white ruffle trim splayed out against his wrists and thighs. Flouncy frills flare from his shoulders, jet puffed sleeves rounding out his sharper edges and broader sides. A pink flush creeps across his cheeks when you fail to respond, teeth locking his bottom lip in place like he’s trying to keep himself from saying anything more.

“I think you look great in it!”

You clasp your hands together in an attempt to ward off your trance and he cracks a smile in spite of himself, relief washing over his features—but your next words have him standing stick straight. “It makes me feel like I should dress you up more often.”

Suddenly his brows are threaded with vexation, Mary Janes clacking across the floorboards as he makes his way towards you.

“Please don’t joke about that. Even I take some pride in my manhood,” he pouts, somewhat unconvincingly. “But as long as you’re holding to your end of the deal—“

“And whatever deal could you be talking about?” you ask ever so sweetly, lashes batting away all too knowingly. He stiffens at your feigned ignorance, legs knocking together when you tilt your head pointedly.

“...You know what deal.”

Nagito averts his gaze, though unable to escape your own, hands clutching at the lacy material as he sucks in a sharp breath. “The deal we made… where I put this outfit on…” You wait patiently, silent stare urging him to finish the sentence. “...and you pound my unworthy hole into oblivion.”

“Oh? And what exactly am I going to pound you with?”

However fake your play-pretend innocence, the curiosity in your eyes is very much real, blazing with the vehement desire to hear him say it aloud. The remaining shred of his so-called dignity is slashed to pieces, the hopefulness in your voice too compelling to defy.

“My favorite toy. Please, mess me up with it.” Nagito eyes you nervously, expecting rejection or derision or snide, heart fluttering when he gets only an warm smile in return. “The dildo that I can’t live without. I want it—I need it so bad it hurts,” he continues in a near whisper, but it’s good enough for you. You pull him in immediately, your chin nestling itself in the crook of his neck as your lips come to rest at the shell of his ear.

“Such a good boy, using your words so properly.” He shudders against you as you trace the fabric where it lies snug against his waist, mesmerized by the words of encouragement that spill from your lips.

“I’m gonna make you see stars.”

Nagito practically bursts with anticipation as you snake your fingers up his skirt, unmoving from the spot where you pushed him onto the bed. With bated breath he lets you kiss up his inner thighs—lets you because normally he wants to do all the work, wants to be your little joyride fuck toy, wants you squirming under his touch. It’s all he can do just to watch, cock already twitching from how good it feels, how utterly starved he’s been of hands besides his own between his legs.

You push at his thighs, pressing them far apart for easy access, chaste kisses becoming damp squeezes as you traverse up the length. A silent smirk tugs at your lips as he throws his head back, the tent beneath his apron growing taller by the second. You palm it instinctively, rubbing circles through the fabric and inviting blood to his sensitive member.

But it’s more of a distraction than anything else, your other hand uncapping the bottle of lube with skill, lathering itself up with ease. Nagito pays it no mind, instead drinking in how you fondle him with eerie similarity to the most despicable of his favorite fantasies. So when a lone finger begins to circle at his entrance, he reels with an unexpected jolt, back arched like a cat. You waste no time in sinking a digit inside, sinful groans following one after another.

And then you’re pumping him with two fingers, swirling them in tandem and scissoring them apart a knuckle deep, then another. He’s biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, fighting the maddening urge to move on his own, to just take the reins and ram you inside of him. He’s already coursing with the need for something more substantial, and it’s obvious that he’s ready to take additional girth.

“Used to me already?” you ask, more statement than question. Nagito hesitates before nodding, sheepishness written into the slow bob of his head. “You’ve been playing with this lonely hole behind my back, haven’t you?” But he can’t bring himself to confirm or deny it, the way he peers back at you answer enough.

You reach for the harness in turn, untangling the heaps of straps right before him, his dildo of choice following soon after. You snap the towering thing into place with a satisfying click, swaying your hips as you guide the thigh straps to their final resting place. The fit is snug, belt of the strap just about digging into your flesh—but not quite—and you turn your back to add the finishing touches.

You’re dripping with lube when you face him again, glossy slick accentuating every vein, every bulge that graces your makeshift cock. You chuckle at the way his legs are spread already, the way he’s waiting on you with a look that says take me now, hold me down and fuck me silly.

But he’s ahead of himself as usual, and it’s inevitable that he chokes back a whimper when you disappear inside of him. He gives the prospect of pain no heed, silently pleading for you to move, and you click your tongue in distaste.

“Breathe,” you command, waiting for him to loosen. Green eyes shift expectantly from the strap-on to your own, an exasperated whine starting to form at his lips, but he knows his place and does as you say.

Nagito complies with the rise and fall of his chest, evidenced by the soft sway of a centerpiece bow. His muscles begin to relax even as you’re splitting him in two, and you angle your hips up in preparation. The tip of your silicone cock has barely brushed against his sensitive gland, yet it already has him quivering, hungry for more.

It’s in the middle of a deep breath when you finally deem him ready, doubling back before bucking into that same spot that has his jaw dropping and his eyes squeezing shut. A shaky exhale stutters from his wide-open mouth and he melts into a panting mess as you find your pace.

“Good boy. Such a good boy, making all that noise for me,” you repeat, chant-like words a melody to his ears.

“Y-you really think so?” he struggles to get out, little mewls escaping him even as he speaks. “Even when I’m… being so… selfish?”

“Shh, don’t say things like that. I feel it too, baby boy,” you’re quick to say—and you’re not lying, far from it in fact. The hilt of the dildo rocks against your clit each time your hips meet, the pulsating pressure tempting you to plunge even deeper. And with the face that he’s making, all reddened cheeks and parted lips, how could you not?

You’re snapping into him now, reveling in the challenge posed by the sheer length of his choice toy. It’s hard work with the way he clamps around you, but the tingle it shoots up your spine and the squelch it sends to your ears are well worth the effort. The marvelous stretch draws a throaty “f-fuuuuck” out of him, the god-sent sensation making him throb all the more.

But with every plunge you take, you’re met with the bounce of his pretty pink cockhead, a rebounding reminder of what you’ve left unattended. His neglected shaft looms in stark contrast to his black and white garb, breath hitching when you finally decide to wrap around it. Your movements are painfully slow to begin with, building up the pressure before picking up in speed, and he keens his dissatisfaction until you’re jerking him off to the same brutal rhythm of your rolling hips.

“I think I’m gonna cum,” he cries, locks of hair cascading past his pleated headband as you press into a spot so sweet he thinks he just might come undone; but you have other plans in mind. Your movements slow before coming to a lurching halt, the absence of stimulation quick to dampen the mood.

“Good boys cum when they’re told to,” you say, but the explanation does little to appease him. A look of disappointment leaps to his face, his lips pursed in dismay—or perhaps it’s betrayal.

He looks so disheveled like this, staring at your open palm like maybe his wordless begging can coax you back into stroking him. Hazy eyes glaze over, tufts of hair spilling every which way as he sits himself up, but you aren’t done with him yet.

It’s simple to redirect his movement, his weak limbs no match for your own as you turn him over so he’s kneeling on the bed. He tries to look back but you push him down by the neck, hiking his skirt up as you position yourself behind him. His ass is raised in the air without so much as being told, and you align with his fluttering hole before breaking him in again.

You were right to make him wait; he’s shaking in excitement now, tense with amplified arousal as his knees buckle underneath you. Bottoming out is so much easier like this, your pistons devoured whole and spat back out with each and every thrust. You draw back slowly only to bury yourself once more, repeating the motion until his moaning runs incoherent, completely wracked with shivering pleasure. You can’t tell if he’s humping the mattress, grinding against you, or both, but he’s reaching his climax again and the both of you know it.

“Can I finish now? Pretty please?” Nagito asks, so strained and so breathily that you nearly miss it. “Please, it hurts so good, please please please, I’m head over heels for your cock!”

The thought of stopping again is too cruel for you to give even a moment’s consideration, so you pin his wrist against his back and collect a fistful of hair in your hand before leaning in to award him with the magic words:

“Go ahead, then. Cum for me.”

You slam into him as he rides through the peak of his bliss, squirming in wretched ecstasy as he collapses under his own weight. You can only imagine what kind of expression he’s making with his head face-first in the bedsheets, the kinds of shapes his mouth is forming when you pull his hair back like this. Violent spasms render Nagito otherwise immobile, unable to move of his own accord. He’s going completely slack, quivers shorting until you wonder if he passed out from the aftershock.

It comes as a surprise when you notice him barely holding on, eyelids threatening to shut close when you pull him into your arms. He looks like a cheap whore in that kitschy uniform of his, thick white cum smeared all over the black fabric. Beads of drool streak his chin but he’s too fucked-out to notice, let alone care.

“You did so well for me,” you whisper as Nagito nuzzles into your chest, drowsy and spent. I don’t deserve this at all, he thinks, a dull echo reverberating in the back of his mind.

“I’m so proud of you,” you coo as you stroke his cheek with your thumb. Proud of what? My greediness? My utter uselessness?

But he’s too exhausted to fight your praises, self-doubt dwindling away to nothing as you hum your approval. He snuggles against your palm without even realizing it, subconscious of his mind chasing after contact with your bare skin. In his docile state, you can’t help but to hold him close, intimate proximity sating the needs of which he’s too adamant to admit aloud.

But all good things must come to an end, and eventually, your adrenaline dies down, too. You feel as though you’re a husk of yourself, curling up beside him and letting the fatigue tide you over. As much as you’d love to watch your symbol of hope fall asleep, your eyelids feel so, so heavy now, and you expend the last of your energy on little kitten kisses that trail up his temple and dot down his nose. Your collective consciousness fades away until all that’s left is the syncing of your breath, a singular flow of air where you lay wrapped around one another.

He’ll never admit just how good it felt to be pampered this way, but you’ll never regret taking care of him.

#nagito x reader #nagito smut #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa oneshot #nagito imagines #danganronpa smut #tw. penetration.#🍣.food #fishstyx.dr

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djarinsbeskar · 4 years ago

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PREQUEL ARC: PART 3 - THE BOUNTY

A/N: Part 3 of Stitches has arrived! This chapter was difficult to write, I'll be honest. And I'd really appreciate any feedback if it doesn't read as well as the first two chapters or doesn't make sense or is boring etc. etc.

This is the penultimate prologue chapter, with the story very much shifting to surround the dynamic and growth of the readers relationship with Din so if you can hold out for me just a bit longer, I promise, I'll make it worth the wait. You know what I'm talking about friends.

Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7k

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: None

Summary: You encounter Mando suffering one misfortune after another.

AO3 | Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist

9 ABY, on the Hydian Way.

Din prided himself on the strength of his principles. An unwavering certainty in everything he did that gave him a modicum of peace as he wandered throughout the galaxy amidst wars, rebellions and the chaos that ensued in their aftermath.

He was certain when he took the Creed, when he sacrificed a future for himself in service of the covert; something he had never regretted to this day. He had never regretted any bounty taken; unmoved by pleas, promises or threats. Neither tears nor anger could sway his resolve.

Truly, he could count on one hand the things he regretted in life; the job on Alzoc III, challenging a fully grown Mandalorian to a fight while still a hot blooded, angry teenager, and not trying to pull his parents into the bunker where they had hidden him from Separatist droids as Aq Vertina was invaded.

In his line of work, there was seldom room for self-doubt. Inner conflict led to hesitation, which could be a death sentence for a bounty hunter.

And yet, as he came out of hyperspace, that unfamiliar gnawing presence in the pit of his stomach began to rear its’ head again. The job he had accepted was… dubious, to say the least.

Din snorted in self-deprecation; most of his jobs were dubious in nature.

What brought on this unnatural doubt, however, was that this was a job for Imperial remnants. Din wasn’t a fool; he knew half the jobs he had taken in the past could have been traced to the Imps if he cared enough to look, but taking a job from them personally… well, he didn’t know how to feel about that just yet.

He pondered the feeling in his stomach again and frowned. Was it doubt… or instinct? Instinct was his most trusted companion as he travelled through space alone. A tickle at the back of his neck, a wary step forward, even a flash of electricity down his spine; those were only some of the ways that instinct spoke to him. And he always listened.

An uncomfortable feeling in his stomach though? Never that.

If it was instinct, then he was going against his very nature in ignoring it. If it was doubt, based on some misguided sense of morality in dealing with the empire… that he could deal with. He could smother doubt with control and consistency; going through the motions of a job brought security and familiarity. Sooner or later, that doubt would make way for a stoic acceptance, a state that had gotten Din through some of his roughest years.

His eyes were drawn to his shoulder, where the glint of newly crafted beskar shone in the gentle lights of the cockpit.

A down-payment…

“Makers Helmet…” he groaned, running a gloved thumb and forefinger across his tired eyes to pinch the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on as the pressure at the back of his skull increased due to the loop his thoughts were going in.

A job was a job. He circled back to his original thought that had led him to accept the clients offer. A job with a bounty greater than anything he could have ever hoped to receive in his lifetime, let alone in one go. It was mere sentimentality and conscience getting in the way of good business. That beskar could not only provide him with armor to reaffirm his loyalty to the covert, but assistance and support to the foundlings and those who raised them.

His resolved steeled. He had never regretted putting the covert before himself, and he wasn’t about to start now.

Turning his attention back to the navicomputer, he scanned the co-ordinates that his most recent lead had pointed to. He had hunted the trail of his latest bounty to the general direction of a vast area of space that straddled the outer reaches of the Outer Rim and halted as it reached Wild Space. There was nothing to stop the bounty from being in those unexplored parts of the galaxy, and if the tracking beacon led him that far, he would have to be ready. With no spaceport on any of the planets he had seen dotting the area on the navicomputer, he thought it wise to refuel and gather provisions should he be there for any prolonged period.

As he lazily assessed which planet to land on, his eyes were drawn to a familiar name. A memory brushed against his thoughts. Not necessarily a pleasant one, but not entirely unpleasant either. For the sake of fairness, Din scanned the planets surrounding the one he pondered; some were equally as well equipped for his needs but the majority he had not been on in years if ever. Somewhere he knew, even briefly, gave him more comfort than the unknown.

At least, that was what Din told himself as he punched in the co-ordinates of Dandoran, the flicker of warmth the memory brought him was something equally as unnatural as the doubt coiled in his stomach.

Bantha balls, maybe he had been poisoned again...

Din tossed a few credits to the human female who received the Razor Crest into the hanger she was managing.

“She needs to be refueled.” Was all he said as he made his way out of the hanger and into the not unfamiliar streets of Mynock. It didn’t look like much had changed in the several months since he was here last; the place was still crawling with a mixture of criminals, bounty hunters and people who just didn’t want to be found. All in all, a good example of most Outer Rim cities.

Mynock had two main pedestrian streets that ran for over two klicks and intersected at the middle. From what he could tell, all legitimate business ran from those two streets, the further into the alleyways and twisted lanes that branched off those two streets one ventured, the seedier the business.

From what he knew, the practice you worked at was on one of these main streets. He paused, causing a few disgruntled pedestrians to have to jerk to a halt and make their way around his imposing frame. He was not here socially. He was never anywhere socially. He shook his head; between self-doubt and sentimentality, the tight leash he usually kept himself on was looser than he remembered and he had no idea just when it had started to slack.

That could not continue. But being aware of a problem allowed him to deal with it. So, with a greater sense of fortitude, he mentally choked any distracting feelings beyond the determination to collect this bounty. That included the somewhat interesting possibility of seeing you again.

Thankfully, Din only needed to stick to the main streets. The road was flanked by stall upon stall of foodstuffs, clothing, trinkets, ammunition and what looked to be a husbandry of Massiff dogs. The large, reflective eyes turned to the Mandalorian; all bared fangs and hostile snarls. An understandable response by most non-sentients when a Mandalorian had no real physical cues they could read, being as covered as they were. Until he lifted his hand for the one closest to sniff, they could only assume he was a threat.

A sniff was usually all it took however, before the snarling stopped. Din brushed a hand over the scaly head as he continued on his way to collect what he came here for.

An hour later, and Din was feeling much more at ease as he picked up the last of the supplies he thought he may need; ration packs, bactapads, generic ammunition that he liked to keep well stocked on the ship and so on. He was once more mentally compiling the information he had gathered on the location of the bounty, running through various routes in his mind that would cover the most planets in the parsec in the shortest amount of time.

He nodded his thanks at the change the Rhodian merchant returned to him and began to make his way back to the Razor Crest. If it hadn’t been for the long flick of your hair in the tie you kept it up in when you turned your head to look at someone at a stall across the central walkway of the street, Din was certain he’d have walked on none the wiser. But alas, that same higher power that had gifted him with a keep perception of his surroundings cursed him in the same fell swoop as the movement attracted his attention.

He came up short, running a mental check on himself immediately. No, no injuries. His shoulder still ached on occasion from being dislocated six months earlier, but it was a phantom pain at most these days. He was fit as a mythosaur and he wasn’t about to have that good streak ruined by getting injured in your presence… again.

Din wondered if he could escape to his ship without you noticing; he didn’t want to tempt fate anymore than he already had. Plus, awkward interactions that left him feeling frustrated both mentally and physically were not high on the list of things he enjoyed, thank you very much.

As a Mandalorian, Din expected attention wherever he went. It was just something he chalked down to being a necessary evil to live by his Creed but he had never wanted to be more invisible than he did in that moment, thinking that at any moment he would be trip into a sarlacc pit or something equally unpleasant.

But you hadn’t seen him, thankfully; much more invested in the choices at the fishmonger’s stall.

Despite his better judgement however, he paused from slipping back to his ship silently.

He was taken by the slight pink flush that rose to your cheeks at something the woman behind the stall said, intrigued by the color and what caused it. Din tilted his head slightly. He had noticed you getting flushed in frustration or annoyance both times you had treated him. It was fascinating to see your cheeks flush for a reason other than irritation and anger.

That particular thought touched a dangerous part of Din’s mind, a part that made him wander into the realm of curiosity to ponder what else might make you blush like that.

Oh, but it was a delightful color on you, and he watched longer than he ought to, a small quirk lifting the corner of his lips. The image of domesticity as you adjusted the parcels of food already in your arms to accept the fish was so foreign to his eyes and certainly not one he ever associated with you until now. It spoke to a part of him that still slumbered but began to fidget in its sleep, on the verge of consciousness.

That tentative smile that he had unwittingly been giving into as he indulged his senses by watching you, dropped the moment three males approached you. The Twi’lek was standing too close for you to be comfortable and by the rigidity of your spine, he knew you were not.

You had taken a step away from the men easily, your body language read cautious but not fearful and he knew better than to underestimate your abilities to wrangle men into whatever position you wanted them in. He had first-hand experience in that department and honestly, it wasn’t nearly as fun as it sounded in his head.

Din relaxed the grip he had unknowingly tightened on the blaster at his hip when you made to leave the stall, away from the three. He shook his head at himself; you had lived here for years. You knew how to handle yourself perfectly fine.

Letting out a breath, he was about to continue back to the ship when that same cursed perception caught the Twi’leks arm shoot out to grip your upper arm tightly, preventing your exit.

Din was behind you before he even realized he had moved.

You examined the range of fish on offer, eyes skeptically crossing off anything that looked like it had been sitting out too long or anything with more than four eyes. You weren’t squeamish by nature, but the fewer dead eyes that were staring at you while you prepared dinner, the better.

One of the few perks of Mynock, was its proximity to the Great Basin of Dandoran that opened out to one of the many oceans to cover the planet. Fresh seafood was a staple in the city and after years of ration packs between the Rebellion and Klatooine, eating fresh was a luxury you would never take for granted again. Your own home planet was mostly covered in water too; the greater population spread over countless clusters of islands where seafood was also the meal of choice for most. It was a tenuous connection but being able to cook dishes somewhat like the ones your mother made when you and your brothers were younger made it feel like you weren’t so far away.

You smiled to yourself at the thought as you pointed to the light blue colored Berbersian crabs, knowing the trawlers had come in only this morning that carried them. The claws were meaty with the slightest sweetness to their flavor that complimented most dishes. Not to mention that when cooked, they turned the most vibrant blue that their shells alone could be used for decoration and craft.

You chatted aimlessly with the fishmonger as she cleaned and prepared the translucent peachy pink fish you had also chosen for good measure.

“Busy at Biran’s?”

“When are we not busy?”

“It’s all them fights between the gangs. Folk say since the Hutts were chased out that things are better but it’s even more dangerous with the others tryin’ to take their place.”

You only gave a non-committal hum to that; you didn’t get involved in politics of any kind. Gang or otherwise.

The mindless chatter continued on nonetheless to more safe topics.

“Did I tell ye, Drea had her baby not three days ago. Another girl.”

“Poor Nej will have his hands full when they all get older.”

“I’m sure they’re dying for a boy at this point. Great excuse to keep sowin’ the crops though, ain’t it?”

“I’m sure they don’t need any excu—”

“Ever think of havin’ any of yer own? Yer well into that time of yer life, I’d say no?”

You blinked, nearly missing the bag of produce as she handed it across the stall to you. You could feel your face heat up at the direction this conversation had turned, and you definitely never thought you would be discussing your biological clock with a fishmonger over Berbersian crab.

“Well I---”

Movement from the corner of your eye stole your attention from that progressively awkward conversation and the no doubt insufficient answer you would have given as three males came to stand at the same stall, facing you. Your eyes scanned the trio sideways, not prepared to give them your attention unless it became unavoidable. There were two humans and a Twi’lek and given the way the humans flanked the large blue male; you had a fair idea about who was in charge as he sneered at you in what you assumed was meant to be a disarming smile.

The blasters at each of their hips and the emerald green coloring on the right sleeve of their jackets told you they belonged to one of the gangs the fishmonger had been complaining about not a few minutes earlier. This gang in particular, the Quai-Kisu or Emerald Dagger in Basic, were a faction that splintered off from the main Hutt crime syndicate once their influence in Dandoran lessened. Their trademark was spice smuggling but anyone with two braincells knew that they accepted the lesser charge to hide the true wealth of their criminal activity, flesh trafficking.

Suffice to say, you didn’t want anything to do with them and you most certainly didn’t want them to want anything to do with you.

“Can I help you?” You kept your eyes on them as you handed the fishmonger what you owed her when it was clear they weren’t going to leave; the woman wisely remaining quiet as she accepted the credits.

None of them responded immediately, and you wondered if this was a new scare tactic they were employing to make people anxious. The crimson hue of the Twi’leks eyes glinted as he contemplated you, running down your figure lazily before meeting your eyes again when you frowned,

“Ol’ man Biran available for a house call?” He rumbled, the sun catching the points of the filed canines as he spoke.

“I’m afraid Biran doesn’t make house calls anymore. Besides, he’s been under the weather for the last few days unfortunately.”

You reeled the lie off effortlessly, having learned over the years who Biran would tend to and who he would rather see succumb to whatever ailed them. It was a steep and difficult learning curve for you, your initial training taught you that you must do your utmost to save every life. Biran had laughed in derision, saying that that mindset wouldn’t serve you well out here. These were gangs, not the flyboys of Corellia. Saving one of their lives might condemn countless others. So while you struggled, you accepted that it was his practice and he made the rules and after over two years on Dandoran, you had seen enough victims of the gang warfare to not feel any pity when one of them suffered an injury.

“C’mon beautiful. One of our pals was injured in a… terrible, terrible accident.” The taller of the two human males, a lanky man with a neck that looked much too long and eyes that took way too much liberty in running over your body.

“There are other doctors in Mynock.” You replied steadily, “I’m sure one of them can help.”

To humor them any longer would be to encourage trouble, so you cut the conversation short and turned quite deliberately to make the point that the conversation was over, flashing the fishmonger a wan smile before turning back the way you came.

“We weren’t done talkin’ to you.”

Your eyes widened marginally when an iron grip closed around your upper arm, your free hand dropping the items in your arm immediately to click the safety off your blaster and lift it in the time it took for the Twi’lek to yank you into facing him again.

“Did I say you could lay a hand on me?” You hissed, the blaster pointing upward from where you held it close to your body towards the underside of the Twi’lek’s chin.

“Quite the little spitfire, ain’t she lads?” He crowed, amused by your action. His laughter was like shattered glass on your ears, making you want to wince, but you kept your hand steady even as your heart pounded. You received as much training as anyone when they joined the Rebellion, but your experience in actual combat beyond treating people on the front line was limited. You knew your own limitations, and that there was no way you would be able to take on all three of them.

The hand around your arm squeezed painfully and you clocked the blaster, lifting it closer to sit under the Twi’lek’s chin, “Release me. Now.”

And like most men of his ilk, he ignored you in favor of his own voice,

“From what we’ve seen, you work with the good doctor. Shouldn’t be a bother for you to fix him up. Nicer to look at too, eh fellas?” He tossed over his shoulder to the snickers of his lackeys.

“Then you can go back to target practice with your toy gun.” He chuckled darkly, leaning in where the pungent smell of his breath made you turn your head away in distaste, “That is, if we let you go at all.”

You swallowed thickly at the threat, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as your mind scrambled to come up with a solution, a way out, something. You felt the familiar sting of tears at the back of your eyes when each avenue came up blank. You couldn’t think of anything and suddenly, you felt so terribly alone in this shithole of a town on a faraway planet far from anyone who gave a bantha crap who would actually be able to help you.

Their laughter only grated on your already frayed nerves and pissed you off even more. You had fought too hard and suffered too much to let these assholes take the one thing you owned, your freedom. Your eyes flashed with anger and snapped back to the Twi’lek, ready to pull the trigger because if you were going out, it would be on your terms.

Their laughter suddenly ceased then, and you blinked. Had they copped that you planned to take at least one, maybe two of them out with you? Before you could figure it out, your arm was shoved away. You raised your now free hand to steady the blaster as you aimed it at them, but they were backing away, eyes averted.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” You growled, hiding the waver in your voice.

They said nothing in reply as the Twi’lek bared his teeth and made towards you again. One of the humans grabbed his arm and hissed something to him. You couldn’t make it all out, but you swore you heard a name you never thought you’d hear again.

Teff.

With one last growl and glare, the Twi’lek conceded to the advice of the humans and all three of them melted back into the crowds of Mynock leaving you to release a heavy breath as you lowered your weapon, replacing the safety with ease as your eyes continued to scan the street. You wanted to be certain they had really left.

“Huh, maybe they were smart after all.” You muttered to yourself, proud that you had dealt with the situation somewhat and holstered your blaster against your hip again, “Still got it girl.” You commended yourself as you stooped to pick up your dropped groceries.

A snorted, “I beg to differ” had you blinking up over your shoulder at the familiar, cocksure figure of the Mandalorian; a hand only grazing the blaster at his hip as he stood casually behind you, his head tilted down to look at you and a resounding sigh leaving his helmet when you smiled.

“Mando?”

An incline of his head was the only greeting you received before he crossed his arms across the wise expanse of his armored chest.

“One sec.”

You got back to your feet and, as if by instinct, ran your eyes over his body, “You didn’t poison yourself again, did you?” You teased lightly, realizing that you were seeing him uninjured for the first time. Well, the second time. But walking into a cantina to do battle with a Houk didn’t could in your estimation.

It gave you pause to notice things about him that you didn’t usually; the way he stood, leaning his weight back on his left foot that gave him an air of lazy arrogance that wouldn’t be misplaced in a loth-wolf relaxing in the winter sun. The strength of his thighs seems to be accentuated by the posture; one hand placed securely at his blaster. If you didn’t know any better, his stance was like an open challenge to every male around him; submit or suffer. But you did know him somewhat, and you knew that he didn’t need to lay down any challenge. He had already won the second he stepped off his ship. The wide breadth of space given to him by passers-by only highlighted that fact.

Even with every patch of skin covered, you could feel the raw power rolling off of him, or was it testosterone? Whatever it was, it tugged at a more primal instinct and ignited a slow, steady heat inside of you that made you both embarrassed and intrigued.

Okay, so you were attracted to the way the man stood. That was fine, that was acceptable. You were a warm-blooded woman in her prime who knew her desires and embraced them. Finding how a Mandalorian… stood, was just another interesting thing to add to your list of things you found attractive.

Along with a raspy baritone and penchant for trouble…

You know what, it was probably just a fantastic indication that you hadn’t been laid in a while, so you made a mental note to deal with that particular issue later.

“I never poisoned myself.” That same low, gruff voice rose to your bait so easily and you had to bite your lip not to laugh, his hand fisting at his side before he unclenched it. Probably thinking about strangling you, honestly. Now there was a thought, for later. Nope, it was definitely the recent dry spell that had you like this. And the sun. The sun always had a part to play in these delusions.

Mando seemed to figure out your game of teasing him however, when you couldn’t fully mask your smile and responded in kind,

“You’re welcome, by the way.” His voice rumbled and you were certain that if you were only a few inches closer, you would be able to feel the vibrations brush against you.

“For what?” You laughed in disbelief, “I had everything under control before you decided to strut into the fray.”

You tried to prevent the frown from creasing between your brows when you thought a little more on the situation. You had a blaster literally pointed to the neck of one of those thugs and they didn’t care. It didn’t even seem like Mando had drawn his weapon and all three had scarpered? Was there any fairness in the galaxy? Obviously not.

The unpainted helmet tilted, the impassive T-visor giving away nothing of its wearers feelings beyond the sigh that left him, “What did you plan to do? Shoot the son of a mudscuffer and have an entire gang out for blood in less than an hour? Yeah, that’s smart.” He snorted.

Your mouth fell open in incredulity, “Talk about the Jawa calling the Ewok short, you’d have done the exact same thing!” You cursed your short temper, especially when it came to the stubborn mule of a man in front of you. The fact that his voice never once rose frustrated you. It remained gravelly but soft, like the sound of pebbles and stones being pushed and pulled by the ocean you could hear from your bedroom as a child.

You were a mature person; you were proud of how you dealt with most things. But in this instance, you allowed your immature side to rear her head momentarily as you began to stalk back to the practice. A piss poor option since the Mandalorian scoffed and kept up with you easily, obviously not content with you having the last word.

“But I wouldn’t be so reckless to not think it through before shooting them.” He tipped his helmet back a little, as if he dared to look down his nose at you. Frustration simmered in your blood as your eyes narrowed at him sideways.

“I was wrong, you obviously are injured. A blow to the head this time was it, Mando? Must be hidden under that kettle you call a helmet” You let out an exasperated breath, shaking your head, “I’ve no cure for that unfortunately.”

You could have sworn you heard a soft noise that sounded remarkably like a chuckle, but it was so quiet and the streets so noisy that you were certain you were wrong.

When the door to the practice-come-living quarters for yourself and Biran came into view, you stopped short. How did you get back here so quickly? Looking over your shoulder, you realized you had led the Mandalorian on a merry chase to nowhere he needed to be. He didn’t look particularly fazed, but the small voice of guilt that sounded an awful lot like your mother had you opening your mouth before you could think twice,

“Do you want to come in?”

What possessed you to invite him in?

It was obvious from both the stilted way you asked and the drawn out, deeply awkward silence that followed. You were about to tuck tail and run inside, slam the door, and pretend you weren’t as mortified as you knew you were when he cocked his head. The movement made you pause in your escape, opening your mouth to tell him to forget about it before the words got lodged in your throat.

“Sure.” Was all he said, and that was how you found yourself staring at a fully armed Mandalorian taking up two thirds of the small settee in the living room to the back of the practice, his hands placed on each thigh as they spread a bit when he sat.

Biran, bless him, took up the last third of the same settee, unfazed by the type of man in his living room and chatting merrily about the last Mandalorian he had met over fifteen years ago.

“And that wasn’t you?”

“No.”

“Ah maybe someone you know then!”

“Maybe.”

Mando’s conversation skills were abysmal.

You didn’t have very high expectations in the first place, but watching it without being a participant, was downright comical. You hid your smile behind the glass of water you had fetched for yourself but the slight tilt of his helmet in your direction told you he had caught your amusement. For someone whose face you couldn’t see, you could practically feel his eyes narrow at you. It made the giddiness from being equal parts anxious and entertained from watching Mando try make nice with the elderly Mirialan rise again and you had to physically bite your lip to stop.

Mando wasn’t listening to Biran anymore, that much was obvious. He wasn’t even looking in his direction, more comfortable blatantly glaring at you instead. Biran was unfazed. Truly, the Mirialan didn’t need a response to have a conversation. A listening ear was sometimes all he wanted. It was a characteristic that endeared you to the him in the first place. The elderly were so often overlooked and written off, but when one only cared enough to listen, they would find themselves enriched with experiences no history book could ever compete with.

“…So how do you two know each other?”

Your attention was dragged back into the conversation so fast you might have given yourself whiplash. You blinked a few times as the Mirialan watched Mando with a clueless smile on his face, completely ignorant to the stiff body beside him.

“Coercive medical attention.” You choked a bit on the sip of water you had taken to buy yourself some time to think; coercive? That rotten---

“Ah, you were a difficult patient, were you?” Biran chuckled, knowing your methods well, “Sweet as pie if you do as your told, but the minute you resist she’ll go for you like a sand panther. I can’t imagine there was much room for bedside manners in the Rebellion, but thankfully that attitude works well in cities like Mynock.” You spluttered again, putting the glass down since it was out to get you too apparently.

Of all the treacherous--, why were you so nice to this old sod again? You would show him a sand panther when you ‘forget’ to buy his favorite tea next time you went shopping.

You seethed to yourself, leaning back in the armchair you had perched yourself on earlier, flyaway hairs from the breeze outside falling into your face which you blew away with a frustrated breath.

“Hm, a panther?” Your eyes rose as the low baritone filled the air after Biran had finished having his laugh at your expense. Mando cocked his head pensively to the side as he looked at you briefly, “More like a kitten, I’d say.” And with that, he looked away.

He didn’t bother saying anything else after that, content with letting Biran’s laughter fill the room and smother the tense silence the two of you were sitting in.

You could feel your cheeks heating up once more as you glared daggers at the tin can in front of you. Why did it feel like you were being simultaneously insulted and flirted with? You couldn’t make the distinction, so you didn’t know how to respond.

Instead, you decided to poke at a different part of the conversation.

“For someone who was coerced, you sure do find yourself on my table quick enough when you need treatment.” Your eyes ran up and down the length of his body candidly when he looked back at you, “and when you don’t need treatment, evidently.”

You smirked when the Mandalorian clenched a fist on his thigh, the third occupant in the room seemingly forgotten as Mando hissed,

“I never asked for your help.”

You scoffed and decided not to deign that with a response.

“Besides, I only stopped over for supplies and fuel.” He admitted and a treacherous part of you sunk a bit at the honesty in his voice. Seeing you was just a coincidence, like always. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air and you fought the twinge of sadness that chased you because of them.

Biran looked between the two of you before standing shakily and patting the Mandalorian on the shoulder with no hesitation, “Allow us to provide you with something extra for your travels then.” He turned his wrinkled face towards you with a smile, the deep groves of his crow’s feet increasing as he nodded to the bags of forgotten groceries, “I think our guest should try the crab. Knowing you, you bought too much as usual.”

You flushed at being caught out, were you really that predicable?

“There’s no need. I got what I came for so, I’ll be going now.” Mando stood fluidly despite his armor, and you were once again struck with how different it was seeing him injured as opposed to healthy. You felt you needed to get used to his presence all over again, with how much it filled the room.

“Thank you, for your hospitality.” He tipped his helmet towards Biran, his voice still rather gruff but laced with a polite softness uncharacteristic to him. Biran waved him off and started making his way back out to the practice when he heard the binary from his medi-droid welcoming a new patient.

That left the two of you standing in a room that suddenly felt much too small for the tension that hung around you both like a blanket. You moved into the kitchen to separate the food you would keep and the food you would give to Mando on one of the countertops, tying the bag tightly by the straps so that it stayed clean and fresh when you were done. You couldn’t hear him move, but you could feel the slight disturbance of the air when he leaned his shoulder casually against the doorframe, arms crossed enticingly once more as he watched you.

“So… what did he call you again? A sand… kitten, was it?”

“Oh, shut up.” You growled over your shoulder at him before turning and shoving the bag with two of the Berbersian crabs and some herbs you knew went well with them, into his hands.

“I don’t need these.” He held the bag out, straightening his stance as he pushed himself from the doorframe. You wisely ignored him.

“All you need is a pan. And water. And heat. Boil them and actually give your body some proper nutrients, would you?”

You explained as you began leading him out towards the private entrance of the residence, through the small kitchen and out into an alleyway that gave you an immediate sense of déjà vu the moment Mando stepped outside. The sun was still beating down and it glinted across the helmet that was becoming as recognizable as a face to you.

“In case you didn’t realize, I’m perfectly healthy.” He replied smoothly, getting his bearings as he examined the alleyway and noted the sounds from the nearby street as the direction he needed to go.

“That’d be a first.” You griped at him, but there was no venom in your words, and he knew it.

You knew he was about to leave, and the suddenness of his departure was as jarring as his arrival. You didn’t know why you felt the need to stall, and you pushed that urge down rapidly in the face of the warrior when he looked back at you from assessing the street not a few feet away.

You sighed and let out a chuckle, wondering again how this man constantly came barreling into your life, disrupting the precarious peace you had brokered while here. You might have said it was a nuisance, but deep down, you knew that he brought a breath of life back into yours every time he crossed your path, reinvigorated the aimless routine you found yourself in. It was unsettling, the way this man had wormed his way into being such a… significant presence in your life. Even after only meeting him three times and always under less than pleasant circumstances.

Part of you wanted to tell him he could stay longer if he wanted; but you knew he would refuse.

Part of you wanted to tell him to be safe; but you knew he wouldn’t be.

Part of you wanted to tell him that you would see him around; but you knew that you probably wouldn’t.

So you settled on a lackluster, “good luck on your hunt” with a small smile as a peace offering for the fraught bickering you always seemed to fall into with him. A peace offering, he seemed to accept as he lifted the bag silently and looked inside,

“Pan. Water. Heat. Right?” His own attempt made your smile grow as you chuckled and nodded,

“You got it, sunshine.”

He nodded once in affirmation while you moved around him back towards the door of the practice. For some reason, you didn’t want to watch him walk away this time. It was easier for you to leave instead. A rumble of your name from the Mandalorian had you looking over your shoulder at him questioningly, the blush that had risen to your cheeks at the sound of your name on his lips not lost on Mando. He had turned back towards you when you moved and after a beat, spoke again.

“See you next time.”

And just like that, your chest hollowed, and a warmth filled you. The weight of his words were like an embrace, a reassurance you didn’t know you needed. Had needed, for longer than you probably knew. It was something secure and encouraging in these times of change and uncertainty, and you felt yourself cling to those words like a lifeline.

The placid nod you offered him with a gentle smile was all he stuck around for. Spinning on his heels, he took off towards the streets of Mynock once more, disappearing in a flash of beskar and steel and for once, you didn’t ponder about possibly seeing him again. You knew you would.

Din settled back into the pilots’ chair of the Razor Crest twenty minutes later, running through the familiar process of flying the ship out of the atmosphere and into the comfort of space, eager to escape into hyperdrive as soon as he was clear enough from Dandoran.

See you next time?

He groaned leaned his head back against the chair, staring up at the ceiling of the cockpit, his brows drawn low over his eyes as he frowned. What possessed him to offer that promise, he didn’t know. Maybe it was the way your eyes had dimmed slightly when he was about to leave, or when you had wished him luck on a job he was still so uncertain about. Maybe it was the way you blushed when he said your name.

Or maybe it was just because he wanted to see you again too.

And that was the most troubling reason of all.

Din didn’t do friends, he had acquaintances and colleagues even if the term was tenuous. He had the covert and the foundlings, but he didn’t have people he actually wished to see. Never trusted anyone beyond what they could each offer one another. You hadn’t looked for anything from him, and it was unsettling. He didn’t know if he could trust you, years of training and experience told him otherwise. But from the old memories of you pressing Raquor’daan poison from his wound to the teasing friendship you displayed with the old Mirialan, his resolve softened a little.

His eyes flicked to the rapidly shrinking planet he was leaving.

Trust was too strong a word right now, but respect… he could admit that he respected you. And that alone put you on a very short list of people, one he was sure you would never truly understand the importance of.

And he was right.

You would never know the significance of being on that very short list of people, but in that moment, Din’s grudging respect for you set both of your lives on a very different course than either of you ever anticipated; one that revolved around a very special, very small, green child.

Once Dandoran had faded sufficiently behind the Razor Crest, he keyed in the co-ordinates to the far reaches of the Outer Rim and entered hyperspace and after several days of travel, he finally struck beskar when the tracking fob starting beeping as he coasted through space. He smirked behind his helmet as he changed direction and noted the closest planet on his navicomputer where his bounty was hidden.

Arvala-7.

Gotcha.

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