#and u bring snipers

[everytingbagl]

yes im mentally ill yes i have an IS obsession. and what about it!!

[lettersfrombeyondthegrave]

the only two constants in the universe is cats being named luna and star wars movie/tv shows having at least one unique robot as an untold mascotte

[froqgy]

just did the most looney tunes cc12 challenge 6 run for roger since she's doing hw

[talentforlying]

@devilmass: quick question um......is there a way to have s'mores night WITHOUT killing god.....asking for a friend 🧍‍♂️

ooooo, is the preacher man advocating for a godless s'mores night? well if you insist . . .

[robin374]

hii! could u write sniper headcannons? :3 i love him with my soul <3thank u!! -🐌

Sniper relationship headcanons

My lovely wet cat man 😭🫶🏼

He is a totally different man from the day he confessed. As the days pass by he starts trusting you more and more.

The very first days of your relationships he would be very cautious with you, not knowing what to do, what to talk about.

If he sees that you help him when he's struggling to make a move or even give you affection, he'll love you even more.

He loves when you two cuddle in his van. Just feeling your head on his chest, caressing your hair, feeling your relaxed breathing... He loves that sensation.

He is addicted to your lips. Like he couldn't be a whole day without your lips on his.

Before battle? Kiss. After battle? Kiss. Just being in the same room as him? Kiss.

Don't you ever talk to him before his morning coffee. I feel like he would be like an angry old man.

He likes to bring you to walks around the forest. Talking about random things and telling you some random fun facts about different animals or plants.

He loves your voice, whenever you two are at the rec room, he is "sleeping" while you are arguing with Scout. He listens to your comebacks at Scout, with a subtle smirk on his face.

Then if Scout mentions something about him, and you defend him with all your soul he will feel a blush creeping up his face.

He's a wet cat man, he loves to silently give you affection, rubbing his face on your neck/chest...

He's thought about proposing to you, but he still feels insecure, so he will wait for some time so you don't hurt him.

[jermer10]

i really liked your yandere sniper! could you do a oneshot? fluff or smut is fine and you don't have to do it :) -

TF2 yandere sniper smut oneshot

18+ only, afab reader | thank you so much for the ask anon!!!! i am NOT the best at yandere, but i put my heart n soul into this for u <3

tw: sexual content, somnophilia, stalking, yandere, noncon that turns consensual, hunt/prey dynamic, kidnapping

drabbles under the cut :P

He could stare at you for hours. Hours, and hours, and hours. You were pristine, soft, clean. You keep yourself looking good for him, he knows it. He sees the way you strip to nothing in your room, tits bouncing as you squeeze into your cute little pyjamas. You lived with your curtains wide open, something he had a love-hate relationship with. How many other men sat in the apartment across the street, staring at your figure through the scope of a gun? Probably not many, but the thought still enraged him. Mundy wanted you all to himself, he wanted to earn you, to indulge in the hunt. He didn't want you to gift yourself to him, not like you had to the other people in your life. He amount of people he killed for you, for less than cheap sex, for less than treating you shitty. For less than a dirty look.

Tonight was the night he was going to win you. He had begun to make himself known, lingering too long in your peripheral vision, becoming sloppy when exploring your apartment, leaving your window open, using your shower. He reveled in the way you begun to take precautions, and the way he had managed to avoid getting caught. You setup cameras, looked over your shoulder more often, made sure to check your locks multiple times. Tonight, it would all become worth something. He knew you were asleep, 2 years of monitoring you and he was certain of your sleeping patterns. The window slid with ease, you had likely forgotten to lock it, but to him this was a sign of surrender.

Mundy entered your room swiftly and quietly, making sure he had left the window opened slightly. If you did awake, he would need a quick exit strategy. He couldn't bring it to himself to kill you, so getting caught and running away whilst you were still in a groggy state was preferable. The smell of perfume hit him first. Then the feeling of the carpet beneath this shoes. Then the sight of you. Your face was scrunched in a sort of desperate, needy way. Eyes shut tight, hips grinding into the pillow between your legs. His cock stood at full attention, uncomfortably rubbing against the fabric of his pants. He wondered if you were dreaming about him? He wondered if the excitement of having a stalker ever turned you on? He crept behind you, sliding his pants down to his ankles, pulling his throbbing dick out from his boxer shorts.

He spat in his hand, and began to stroke the length. It was all too exciting for him, his breath came out short and hot, light sighs and moans extruded from his throat. This wasn't the first time he had masturbated over your sleeping form, but it was the first where he had the intention of fucking you. Precum dribbled from his dick into his hand, which he used as lube. He didn't typically enjoy edging himself, but the thought of finally being able to feel you wrap around him almost pushed him over. He had to regain his composure, cock twitching in dissatisfaction. "Lucky fuckin' pillow..." He mumbled annoyed, listening intently to your quiet moans. He was sure you were close, he had to act fast.

The creaking of the bed under his added weight should have been enough alone to wake you. He cringed at the sound, but your moans did not cease. Mundy almost ripped your shorts off of you in anticipation, the sight of your bare pussy up close could have made him cum then and there if not for his unwavering determination to fuck you. You were already slick with wetness, and Mundy was sick of waiting. He slid his length in, one hand on his cock and the other on your hip, slowly and deliberately. You stirred, mewling as he stretched you open. You felt so gummy, so tight around him. Mundy couldn't take it, this was his one chance and he wasn't going to waste it. He thrust into you sharply, you cried out. It was a wonder how you were still sleeping during this, he considered it a miracle.

Well, he knew you weren't going to be asleep for long. He thrust into you a second time, cock spasming at the sound of your throaty moans. Then again, and again, and again. He couldn't hold back, hands ravaging your body. He laid behind you, on his side, and as uncomfortable the position was, he didn't care. Mundy was pussy drunk, unrelenting and cruel. You shortly awoke, feeling his hands gripping onto your tits and the feeling of his dick rearranging your guts. You wanted to scream, to cry, to fight off the man behind you. You knew it was him, your stalker. But a part of you found the whole ordeal....exciting. More exciting than any mentally sound person should.

Mundy didn't notice you, and if he did, he didn't seem to care. He drove into you, the feeling was unbearably harsh, you were unbearably warm, you were in pain, and yet it all felt so good. Moans drawn from your already sore throat, your hands gripped the side of the bed and your eyes squeezed shut as you began to hit your orgasm. A low, reverberating moan from the stranger behind you and you were undone, walls spasming around his cock, a high pitched squeal emitting from you. Your breathing was heavy, exhausted. Mundy came shortly after, pulling out and spilling onto your back and bedsheets.

You were an even better fuck than he could have imagined, how could he bear to let anyone else experience you this way? To let anyone else have you? And so, a calculated decision was made. You awoke in a room you had never seen before, arms and legs bound to a beam in the middle of the cold, plain room. A stranger walked in, no, not a stranger, it was him.

[blingblong55]

The Great War -141 & Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request:

with the new mw3, lets do angst, something along the lines of “Somewhere in the haze, got a sense i’ve been betrayed” coming from us because 141 betrayed us horribly, which ended up in us getting tortured and then we pretennd its fine when it isnt. forget and forgive we lie and when we meet with Makarov, we tell them, ‘oops sorry, forgot i was also a enemy at some point, guess its time to betray like real enemies do’ and as we set Makarov free, we show that we have been working as his spy ever since they betrayed us. also can this be with a female reader and we also marry makarov behind their backs so thats why we betray so hard? i love u! ---- F!Reader, soldier!reader, enemy!reader, betrayal, mentions of war and violence ----

Part 1, Part 2

One was set to win. That win would set a new record for all criminals and good men. This is how modern warfare changes for the better and worse of us.

This is the great war.

"So, how will we do this?" Price asks Laswell, who was looking at the board of pinned suspects and the three main targets. A love triangle, what a mistake and blessing this was for the three people involved. "I gathered some intel, I know that tension is high with Makarov and R/N. My source tells me Ghost is driving a line between the two lovers and we will use that leverage." Amongst all the people looking for the three criminals, there was an underground world that wanted their story to succeed. After all, what is evil without danger? 

Meanwhile, somewhere in Amsterdam. 

"Simon, stop-"

"R/N, he isn't going to make us last long," Ghost tried to reason his idea for throwing Makarov to the dogs that the soldiers around the world were. "We are not killing my fucking husband, I am not going to give him to Laswell so she can send him to prison." The gun in your hands is cleaned from the fresh blood. 

Everyone knew that this is what always kills such powerful villains. Love the fact that someone else was introduced to the already steady team. Simon was a liability, there was no lie there but what he brings to the table is stronger. His background runs deep and he knows best. 

Soldiers on both sides train, wanting their idea of 'Good' to win. In war, there is no good. It is all bad and cruel, even if you are told you are on the good side of history, you know deep inside, that for one story there are two sides, so you will always be a villain no matter what. 

Six months and five days and now you find yourself in a meeting room. Vladimir tells soldiers the plan, Ghost giving you a look and then you looking at your husband. His hand holds yours, "We are doing this to end those who think they have better us and we will crush them. 

It was a nightmare for Task Force 141 to fight against their own. 

There you were, opposite sides of the line. Guns in hand, bombs waiting to explode and you, holding Vladimir's hand. The first gun shot fired and it was to the opposing team. 

This is how all wars begin. 

Price had minor scratches, Gaz with a minor wound to his shoulder and Soap, running across the hills to place bombs and ready himself for what came. On the other side, snipers were on hold, Ghost commanding them. Vladimir commits crimes as his militia moves closer to the targets. 

Skies roar, rain and thunder fall but no one has any reason to stop. One must win, they all think and dream of. 

Three weeks into this and there you stood, watching as both sides created good-faith treaties. Ghost gives you a knowing look and you shake your head. "No, we're not going with that plan," you oppose but the man with the final word is Makarov. 

"My love, there is no other choice," his hands take hold of your face. "No, we're not doing that. Please, let's not do this, Vlad," you plead and he kisses your forehead. 

As he told you the steps to this dreaded plan, all went silent. Life flashed as his words continued. Everyone in that room watched as you shed tears, as you held your husband and as you continued to refuse the plan. 

"I'll see you soon," Vladimir kisses your forehead and leaves the room. His men holding you back. "Ghost," you say out of desperation but all he does is give you a small head shake. "Sorry," he whispers and leaves. 

Once you had calmed down, you were guided to Makarov's private office, where you just awaited with grief. 

Out in the field, Vladimir turns to Ghost. "We fight or die, you hear me?" "Loud and clear," Ghost says back and they both go into position. 

141 and Konni Group made up floors with blood and gun shells. It was a blood bath and one that would guarantee some repercussions. 

One shot made the surrounding areas fall silent. 

"Enemy down," Ghost says over the radio.

Vladimir looks up at Ghost. "You sonovabitch," Vladimir tries to sit up but Ghost presses his boot to his throat. "You took men I worked with down back in London, and rest assured it won't happen again." Ghost pointed his gun to the side of Makarov. "And don't worry, your widow will be occupied as you burn in hell." His finger is close to the trigger. 

"Don't you dare hurt her!"

"Who said anything about hurting? She will be a widow for a short time, soon or later, that widow will become my wife."

Ten minutes later, Ghost knocks on the door. You open it expecting to find him and Makarov but he hands you Makarov's gun and he shakes his head. "No, please...please tell me this isn't true," you begin to cry. "I'm sorry. I tried to stop him but-"

"Stop him?"

"He committed suicide" The lie left Ghost's lips. 

"No, no that isn't true. He would never-"

"R/N, I saw him, I tried to reason with him but...nothing worked and I was there too late, I'm sorry." He hugs you. 

Then the conversation he told you before stepping out of the meeting room made more sense. 

"If me and Ghost don't make it back to the office, you grab your bag and go to Switzerland. A home has been set for you, it's a peaceful place and I know it'll be difficult to move on but my love, you have to. Don't look back and live a long life. There is a bank account that has billions of dollars in it. You use that money for whatever you please. I love you," he kissed your hands and sighed. 

Many will win. Many will die. Many will go home and just like Makarov, many will die on cold frozen ground, away from their loved ones and away from home. 

Back at the 141 HQ. 

"Laswell, explain it!" Price said through gritted teeth. 

"Fine." She sat down and lit her cigarette. 

"I made R/N fall for Makarov. I was the reason they met. I sent all of you away from her and I made her and Ghost stay behind so she could have some rendevous with Makarov. You wanted Makarov dead and you got it."

"You fucking lied to us," Gaz mentions. 

"No, I didn't lie. I just didn't tell you the truth of the real plan."

"And what is the real plan?" Soap questions.

"Unbeknownst to everyone but me and Ghost, I made R/N fall for Makarov. Who do you think gave her the advice to marry her prohibited love? I knew Ghost fell for R/N long before Makarov came into the picture. So I made a deal. He and R/N live a life away from worry and in exchange, he betrays us and kills Makarov. It's crazy how far love goes." 

"Alex was right about you," Gaz mentions and Laswell shakes her head. "Gentlemen, you got what you wanted. Makarov is dead and Russia is in talks to prevent another attack. We all win."

"Why not imprison him?" Soap asks. 

"He would escape. So, Ghost came up with the plan to kill Makarov as he pretended to be on the side of Konni. It's not a complicated scheme," Laswell crosses her legs and lets out a puff of smoke. 

"You made us believe Ghost betrayed us-"

"What about R/N? Did she know about this plan of yours?" Price, as the older brother he was to you asks. 

"She didn't know and as far as I'm concerned, she believes Makarov committed suicide. He even went out of his way to make her life away from the military comfortable and gave her nearly 2 billion dollars so she could live comfortably. If only he knew that Ghost would also enjoy those riches," she chuckles and stands up. 

"Go rest," she advises and leaves the room. 

In every story, there will always be villains.  

A/N: Tagged everyone in the original post since I believe this will be the last part to this..

Tags:

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[fandomxpreferences]

The Invisible Woman

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x female!reader

TW:mentions of violence, I think thats it

Summary:Jake notices you at the bar and quickly learns you're more than just a pretty face.

Word Count:1.2k

A/N: I don't know much about the military so please excuse any inaccuracies. This will be a series and probably have some one shots based in this universe.

You're perched on a seat at the bar drinking a beer, watching the patrons. You've just been reassigned to North Island for a few months. You sense a presence behind you but don't face the person.

"Do you need something or are you just lurking?" You ask and Jake stops. How the hell did you know he was there? He recovers quickly and moves into your field of view.

"I just happened to notice the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and figured I'd never forgive myself if I didn't come talk to you." He flirts and he's surprised when you don't seem impressed. 

He persists anyway and tilts his head toward the spot next to you. "Mind if I take a seat?

"No, by all means." You smile while nodding to the chair and he sits down with a smirk. You look him over and purse your lips. He's handsome, you can't deny that. He's wearing a button-down and jeans, his blonde hair neatly styled.

"I take it you're military." You state and his eyebrows shoot up. 

"How'd you know?" He asks and you take a sip of beer. 

"Y'all just have a certain look to you. If I had to guess I'd say you've got a fancy job." You tell him and he leans in a little closer. 

"Lucky guess. Think you can figure out exactly what I do?" He quips and you smile. 

"Not lucky, just observant. You're too polished to be Special Ops and too confident to be any sort of desk job. My bets on either intelligence or aviation." You respond and his jaw goes slack. 

"Okay, seriously. How did you know I'm a pilot?" He scoffs and you laugh. 

"What can I say? I'm good at reading people. You just have the arrogant vibe that most pilots give off."

This time he laughs and shakes his head. "You seem to know a lot about the military." 

You shrug and lean back in your seat. "I know enough to get by. So are you Navy or Air Force?" You inquire and he straightens up, pride flashing across his features. 

"Navy." He answers and you hum. 

"You go to Top gun?" You wonder and he nods. "Sure did. Graduated top of my class."

You decide to play along a little longer and quirk an eyebrow. "So I take it you're good?" 

His smile only grows and he brings his bottle up to his mouth. "Best of the best. I have two confirmed air-to-air kills." He tells you casually and you decide to drop the bomb. The cocky smirk on his face is amusing, and you can't wait to see it fall. 

"Two? Well, I'll be god damned. Consider me humbled. I only have sixty-five." You say nonchalantly and confusion washes over him. 

"Sixty-five what?" He asks baffled and you look at him like the answer is obvious. "Sixty-five confirmed kills."

He chokes on his beer and you stifle a laugh, satisfied with his reaction. "Excuse me? So you're military too?"

Your face deadpans and you stare straight into his eyes. "No, I'm just a serial killer." You say seriously and it takes everything in you not to break character when you see his eyes widen in panic. 

You bark out a loud laugh after a few seconds and knock his knee with yours. "I'm just fucking with you, flyboy. I'm military." You reveal and he visibly relaxes before perking up again. 

"Wait, how the hell do you have sixty-five? What do you do?" He asks, genuinely intrigued. 

You break out into a wide grin and you can't wait to tell him. "I'm a Navy Seal Sniper. The only female to hold the title, actually."

His mouth drops open and you swear he's going to start drooling. "How the hell have I not heard of the only female Navy Seal?" He asks exasperated and you chuckle. 

"Probably because I don't officially exist. None of us do. They keep our identities under tight wraps." You inform him and he thinks he might be in love. 

"Okay, I'm getting us more beers because I need to know everything." He states firmly and you laugh. 

The two of you talk for a while, and Jake just can't seem to get enough. 

"So you go on top secret recon missions and then just disappear?" He asks perplexed and you nod. 

"Nothing I've ever done officially exists. I mean, I've got the medals but the specifics aren't technically on record. Our whole job is to be invisible." You tell him and he clings to every word. He feels like he's in a movie right now, and you're the main character. 

"What's it like?" He almost whispers and you frown. 

"What's what like?" You try to clarify and he shifts closer. 

"I mean what do you feel when you pull the trigger? Is it scary or exciting? Do you get nervous?" He rambles and you mull over your answer.

"The only thing I really feel is recoil." You respond simply and he lets out a short laugh. 

"I think that's the most hardcore answer you could've given. It doesn't ever get to be too heavy? The mental toll, I mean." He presses and you give a half-shrug. 

"I don’t really give myself the opportunity think about it. I do my job and then lock it away in a box. It's not like I'm taking out saints." You tell him casually and he shakes his head. 

"You're incredible. I've never met anyone so fucking nonchalant about being a complete badass and you kind of scare me." He admits, only half joking.

You do scare him. Partially because you could take him off the map without him ever knowing you were there, and partially because he's completely enamored. 

"I don't see myself that way." You tell him honestly and he looks at you like you have two heads. 

"Are you insane? You have the most elite job on the planet and no one even knows you exist. Give yourself some credit." 

You tilt your head to the side and your lips quirk up just a bit. "I like to stay humble but I do enjoy you gushing over me." You quip and his stomach does a flip. You're a spitfire and Jake can't get enough. 

You look down at your watch and see that it's almost midnight before glancing back up at him. 

"I have to get going. Early morning." You tell him and you almost feel bad at how sad he looks. 

"Can I get your number? I'd love to see you again." He asks and you nod. He gives you his phone and you punch your number in, only placing a ghost emoji in the name field. You give him one last smile before leaving, and he watches as you walk away. 

He stays glued in place for a few minutes before a hand comes down on his shoulder. 

"Who was that?" Bradley asks and Jake turns to face him. 

"My future wife I think." He laughs and Bradley's eyebrows shoot up.

"Wife? You have never once shown interest in dating, let alone getting married." He replies and Jake just looks at him. 

"She's a fucking navy seal sniper." He divulges and Bradley's eyes widen. 

"There's a female navy seal?" He asks confused and Jake nods.

"Yeah, and I think I'm in love with her. I don't even know her name."Jake realizes and Bradley laughs at the lovesick look on his friend's face. 

"You're fucked, man. Your usual ‘I’m a badass fighter pilot’ schtick isn’t going to work." He teases and Jake can't even argue. 

"Yeah, tell me about it." He nods in agreement, already resisting the urge to text you. This is going to be one wild ride and he can’t wait.

@drakelover78  @manyfandomsfanvergent @ssprayberrythings @disturbedbeautywrites @desert-fern @one-sweet-gubler @callmemana  @luckyladycreator2 @bookchik26 @taytaylala12 @michalkasimp @xoxabs88xox @loveless-simp @withakindheartx @formulapierre @ccristata @shanimallina87 @k-k0129 @izz-ayes-world  @kajjaka @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @phantomxoxo @rosiahills22 @gspenc @chair-things @benhardysdrumstick @cookielovesbook-akie @dempy @wellshit6

[millersdjarin]

I Only See Daylight

Chapter One

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series: Ongoing, set after The Mandalorian season two

Warnings/Tags (Overall): eventual smut, post-canon, trauma, past emotional/physical abuse, scars, self-doubting/negative self-image, din working out his shit, reader working out her shit, found family, injury, religious trauma, cults

~series masterlist & info~

chapter tags/warnings: mentions of past trauma/emotional abuse

chapter length: 6.8k

notes: this planet and its creatures are entirely made up by me, it does not exist, hope u like it anyway :) the fic title is from "daylight" by taylor swift, aka the soundtrack for this fic ❤️

my love was as cruel as the cities i lived in; everyone looked worse in the light

Ah, the smells and sounds of a backwater planet in the morning. 

Dewy grass underfoot and damp moss lining the bases of trees. Birds chirping on the tall branches, bright green leaves shaking gently in the wind, the sound rustling through the air. The scent of the nearby flowers, the running of the river beside your hut, the hissing of an engine and the smell of burning metal…

Wait. 

That’s…not the smell of this backwater planet in the morning. 

You’ve just had a small breakfast, fruit picked from the meiloorun trees a few miles West, when the strange sounds and smells suddenly hit you. 

It’s concerning, to say the least. No one is around for hundreds of klicks; not a hint of civilisation, not a whiff of a trade route until you reach the other side of the planet. 

You chose this place for a kriffing reason. No one’s here. No one’s even near. Despite the sparse covering of meiloorun trees in an overgrown meadow, there’s no reason for anyone to be here. No reason for a ship to land nearby, that’s for sure. 

Unless…

No time to think. 

There are footsteps approaching. 

Shit. 

Your sniper rifle is by the door to your hut, blaster by your pillow. One for hunting food, one for self defence. 

One that you’ve never had to use before now. Not since arriving here, anyway. 

Well, first time for everything. 

You grab it, and press yourself against the wall by your door, slowing your breathing so you can listen closely. The footsteps get closer; they’re muffled on the grassy ground, but getting louder, and it’s definitely a two-legged being of some kind. Just one. 

You’d have thought that if They had found you, They would bring the whole damn lot along to take you back. An army, a garrison, outnumbering and overpowering you in every way. 

But maybe not. They’re cunning, manipulative. Maybe sending just one of them, sending him, is a tactic. Maybe They think it would break you down; make you vulnerable again.

Well, whoever it is is walking carefully, slowly. Like every step could be putting a foot wrong. 

There is, of course, the possibility that they’re not here for you at all, and are just going to bypass your hut without a second thought. A very minute possibility; you are the only sentient being here, your hut the only sign of someone’s life. It’s the best place to hide, somewhere where no one ever goes, because no one needs or wants to. The flora and fauna isn’t ideal, there are no useful resources for trading, and only just enough for one careful person to survive on. 

But that chance of someone being here not for you is squashed when you peer out of the window on the door and realise that, yes, there is a figure emerging from the woods in front of your hut, and, yes, that is the shine of the barrel of a blaster. 

Kriff.

They’ve found you.

You could run. There’s a back door you built specifically for this. 

But if there’s only one out front, then it’s definitely some kind of manipulation tactic. There will be more nearby. They’ll be waiting in the back, having taught you themselves to always have a back route to escape, and they’ll grab you before you can even think twice. 

The only option is to try and reason with him. To try and use his own tricks against him. To manipulate him into thinking you’re doing what he wants, and then use his weakness to get away. 

It’s never worked before. 

But it’s the only option you’ve got.

Creaking open your front door, you point your blaster around the frame, followed closely by your left eye. You expect to see a human face, bearded, white skin and bright blue eyes. Familiar. So familiar you can never fucking forget it.

But, instead, all you see is blinding silver. 

No, not silver. Not even durasteel. You don’t know what it’s made of, but it’s armour, a lot of it, shining brightly in the morning sunlight. It’s complete with a helmet, also that strange type of silver metal, with a black T-shaped Visor across the eyes and cutting down the front. A gloved hand is holding up a blaster not dissimilar to your own, though the person looks hesitant, only holding it as a caution, as they approach your hut in the same way.

“Get back!” You shout. 

The armour stops. 

People don’t normally actually stop when you tell them to. So, you’re not sure what to do next. 

(You were expecting to shoot, but honestly, you’re not sure what good it could possibly do past that armour. What is that stuff, anyways?) 

“Leave now,” you demand, “this is your warning. I will shoot you.” 

The hand holding the blaster lifts, very pointedly bringing their finger off the trigger. They hold up both of their hands, in surrender. “I’m not here to harm you,” a voice comes through the helmet, modulated and most likely male. He’s speaking quietly, so measured and calm that you wonder if the helmet does that for him. 

“You need to leave!” You say again, gaining enough confidence now that his blaster is not pointed at you to put your whole head around the door. Now both of your eyes are on him, you see the entirety of his armour. He is absolutely armed to the fucking teeth, probably not even needing a blaster to kill you in a breath. There’s a rifle on his back. A satchel is slung over his shoulder, but you can’t see the bag itself as it sits over his back. 

The shape and design of his helmet is familiar to you, distantly, something in your brain ringing when you see it. But you can’t quite put your finger on it, and it’s not important right now. 

“I can’t do that,” he says, measuredly calm again. 

“Who are you? What do you want?” 

A pause. He still has his hands in the air, but after seeing the amount of weapons he has strapped to him, it’s not all that comforting. “My ship crashed,” he says after an uncomfortably long time, like he wishes he didn’t have to say it. “I was hoping to find somewhere to buy parts.” 

You huff out a laugh. “Good luck with that,” you say. Subtly, and with your blaster still aimed at him, you get another look at him. With his hands up, his satchel is starting to slip around his body. You get a glimpse at the very edge of the bag. Whatever is in there is heavy, and you’re not about to take the risk that it’s something dangerous. “You need to leave. You can’t be here.” 

“Is there a town nearby that you can direct me to?” He asks. “I tried looking at the map, but it must have been corrupted…” 

You laugh again, rolling your eyes. “It’s not corrupted. There’s nothing on this side of the planet.” 

Another pause. “But you’re here.” 

Alright. Either They have sent some random, terrifying guy to lure you into a false sense of security, or he is just genuinely lost. 

You’re just about to lower your blaster, to give him the bad news that he’s going to have to travel half way around the planet if he ever wants to get off it, when two things happen at once. 

First, the satchel slips all the way around. You jump at first, but soon, the bag itself is moving, and something pops out from the top of it. Something…alive. Something green, wrinkled, with ears as big as its head and deep, dark eyes almost as large too. 

You frown. A kid? 

Not enough time to process the fact that this seems to be a father who has got himself stranded, because suddenly you see something else in the satchel, sticking out from one of the front pockets with a blinking light and a beeping that you can hear from here. 

A tracking fob. 

Your heart rate shoots up, blood suddenly rushing through your ears so you can’t hear anything but that. You flick the safety off your blaster, aim it stronger at him, look through the scope with one eye. “Get out of here, bounty hunter, or I swear I’ll shoot you where that armour can’t protect you.” 

The child—why the fuck does a bounty hunter have a child?—coos, seeming concerned, and looks up at the armoured man like he’ll have an answer. 

The man himself has his blaster aimed at you again, and you didn’t even see him move to point it. Kriff. He’s fucking good.

They put a bounty on you. Fuck, They wanted you back that badly. 

“I said leave!” You cry, feeling tears of both fear and betrayal sting at the backs of your eyes. You try desperately to swallow them down. “Take that tracking fob, and leave, or I swear to the Maker—”

Your words seem to startle him, and he drops his blaster once more, the helmet tilting down towards where the fob is sticking out of his bag. “No, no, it’s not—this isn’t for you!” He says, sounding more hurried now than he had when his hands were up and you were about to shoot him. He fishes the fob out. “This isn’t yours. See, it’s not telling me I’m close to my target. Look.” He holds it out towards you. 

A quick glance tells you that he’s not lying about that. The lights aren’t blinking right. 

You hesitate. Your heart is still beating wildly in your chest, so hard that it feels like it might jump out and run away from this entire situation. Which, you couldn’t blame it.

You wish you could do the same. 

“You really just crashed here?” You ask, your blaster-wielding arm twitching. 

“Yes,” he answers. 

You look at the child. “The kid yours?” 

“I…yes. Yes, he’s mine.” 

A frown creases at your forehead, both concerned and curious. “No one’s surrounding us? No one going to jump out and take me?” 

“…No,” he says. Something in the tilt of his helmet comes across as amusement. 

It’s not funny. 

But he has a kid. Someone sent here to kill you wouldn’t have brought a kid.

Well, probably not. Though knowing Them, you wouldn’t necessarily put anything past them. 

Not without hesitation, you lower your arm. Flick the safety back on, but keep your finger on it, ready to flick it back at a moment’s notice. “You crashed onto the wrong planet,” you say, stepping further into the doorway. You can’t see his eyes, but it feels like they’re on you, taking you in now he can see you. “I meant it when I said there’s nothing until you get to the other side.” 

He observes you. “Can you help me?” 

You sigh. It’s been a long time since you had any kind of human contact—well, you assume he’s human—and it’s already becoming too much. A tiny, corrupt part of you says, No, you can’t help him. Send him on his way. A part of you that is either there for self preservation, or a part that They put in you from a young, young age. 

It’s a part that you have never listened to. Not once. 

And you’re not about to start now.

“I can give you food and water,” you say, eyeing the kid curiously, wondering if it even eats or drinks, “and I can tell you more about this place. Maybe even help with the ship. But I haven’t got a way for you to get to the city.” 

He seems to relax a little. Tentatively, and still holding his hands halfway up, he steps closer. “Thank you,” he says. “Thank you very much.” 

He sounds so sincere, so genuine, that it takes you by surprise. Because, really, he’s quite terrifying. Just this big, looming wall of steel-silver armour, covered head-to-toe in weapons, as well as ones that are no doubt hidden, too. You can’t see his face or read him at all. He walks so casually, like he’s meant to be here. Like this is normal. 

And there’s a fucking green child strapped to him, the likes of which you’ve never seen before.

“Please, sit,” you say, gesturing to the table and chairs you have set up under the awning that stretches from your hut’s roof. “Are you hungry?” 

“The kid is. We have supplies on our ship, but it’s a few miles away…” 

You raise an eyebrow. He doesn’t sit down, just stands there under the shade, staring at you. “When did you crash?” 

“We didn’t crash, necessarily. Just…an interesting landing.” 

“Right, right, of course. But it was such an interesting landing that you can’t take off again?”

“…That’s right.” 

Before replying, you head inside and to the little kitchenette along the left wall. There’s some fruit there and a little of the bread you made last week. You gather it, along with a knife and some plates, and take them out to the man. 

“Well, I don’t know much about mechanical stuff,” you shrug, putting it all down on the table, “but I’ll do what I can to help.” 

He still doesn’t move to sit down, or even towards the table. The child careens towards the food, though, reaching out little clawed, three-fingered hands. 

The man just stares at you. You wonder why. What he’s staring so much for. Is there something particularly puzzling about you? Something he doesn’t understand? 

“Thank you,” he says eventually. “For your generosity.” 

Yeah, well. Again, you gesture to the table, and finally he follows. He sits down and puts the kid on the bench beside him, giving his nose an affectionate little rub before he turns to the table and breaks a bit off the bread. The kid is reaching for it as he hands it over, and the way his little green mouth starts biting at it is adorable. 

“So,” you say, “who are you?” 

The helmet looks back at you again. Even out of the sunlight, it’s still a piercing, shining silver. “People call me Mando,” he says after a beat. 

You frown. “Mando,” you repeat, mostly to yourself. “As in, Mandalorian?” 

He seems to startle a little, pausing as he cuts the fruit into kid-sized squares. “You know about the Mandalorians?” 

“Doesn’t everyone?” 

A noise comes through the helmet. You could swear it sounds like a breathy laugh. He shakes his head and looks back to the fruit in front of him. “Depends what you know.” 

“Uh, let’s see,” you sit down on the chair opposite him, across the table. “A race of warriors, proud of their heritage, destroyed by the Empire…” 

He tenses. Stops again, and looks up.

Kriff. 

“Sorry,” you say quickly, “sorry. It’s…been a while since I talked to another person. That was insensitive.” 

After yet another long, indiscernible stare, he gets back to work. Silence passes for a minute, long and uncomfortable as anxiety roils in your stomach. You always say the wrong fucking thing, don’t you? Always making things worse, always fucking things up…

“Well, you’re right,” his modulated voice breaks through your quickly spiralling thoughts. “The Empire destroyed most of us.” Grief laces his voice, heavy like you imagine the armour on him must be. 

It twigs, then. His armour. Mandalorian. The shape of his helmet. 

That’s where you recognise it from. 

You want to ask, want to hear more about his people, about what happened. Before coming here, you knew a lot about the different cultures in the Galaxy; last you heard, the Empire was gone, and the New Republic was being built. But you don’t know anything about the Mandalorians except that they were all wiped out—or, so you thought. 

He starts handing little cubes of yellow fruit to the kid, who coos and accepts them happily. 

“Aren’t you going to eat?” You ask him, curious.

“No, thank you.” 

A frown tugs at your forehead. Maybe he’s not human. “Do you…do you eat?” 

“What?” 

“I mean…do you need to eat?” 

“I—yes, I need to eat. I’m human,” he adds on, like he’s realised my unasked question. 

Okay, good. Not that it would have been bad if he’d not been human. But the way his broad shoulders look under the armour, the solidity of his thighs, the way his gloved fingers are flexing around the fruit, shiny with juice, working deftly…

You shake yourself from your thoughts. You literally just met this man, and you know that he’s a bounty hunter. You need to stop.

Speaking of, “So did you come here for a bounty?”

He looks up again, and something about the way he startles comes across as surprise. Pleasant or unpleasant surprise, you’re not sure, but either way, he looks surprised that you asked that. 

“No,” he says.

“How badly damaged is your ship?” Recalling the smell of burning engine oil, you prop your foot up on one of the table’s legs, the soles of your boot gripping to the wood. Sunlight is streaming through the coarse fabric of the awning above you, casting tiny slivers of golden beams across all three of you. It shimmers in his armour, and he looks just a little magical. The kid is gazing up at the twinkling lights above him. It looks like the canvas is covered in golden stars, flitting as trees rustle between the fabric and the sunlight. 

“I can probably fix it myself. At least enough to get me somewhere that has parts.” 

“Hyperdrive blown?” 

“Yes,” he says. “How’d you know?” 

“I could smell it,” you say. It’s been a long time since you smelled that, but it’s ingrained in your memory, all sour and oily. 

“The hyperdrive blew, and it damaged the engine. I only just got us down safely.”

“So probably a little body damage too, then.” I ponder, wondering if there’s any way we can find parts that he might need. There’s a scrap heap a little way off—definitely not as far as the other side of the kriffing planet—left there by, presumably, the last people unfortunate enough to crash here. 

“I thought you didn’t know about mechanics?” He asks, something in his voice quirking, the same tilt of his helmet that you thought was amusement earlier. 

“I have a little knowledge. Are you sure you’re not hungry?” 

He shakes his head. 

“Alright.”

And it’s not a good idea to offer him the kind of help you’re thinking of offering. It’s not. He’s a bounty hunter, very clearly dangerous, and he’s also the first person you’ve seen since you left Them.

You don’t trust people easily. You used to. But you don’t anymore. 

But he has a kid. And if you don’t help him, he’s going to be stuck here forever, unless he’s happy to take the year-long journey of going to the other side of the planet. You came here for solitude, for safety. To not have to trust people.

That won’t work if he’s going to have to stay here.

And, who knows? Maybe he’ll try and kill you for food in the end. By the looks of him, he could. 

You sigh to yourself. 

Because even despite all that, despite the fact that the only remotely good reason to help him out is to try and stop yourself getting eaten, you’d still help him anyway. 

That’s who you are. You didn’t let Them make you anything else. Swore you would never. 

“Well,” you say, having made up your mind, “there’s a scrap heap a fifty klicks West of here. It’ll take a couple days of travelling on foot to get there, but it might have what you need.” 

He nods. “I could probably get there. Can you mark it on a map?” 

You haven’t seen a map in years. In fact, you only know this place by its terrain. By its land under your feet, the trees above you. “No,” you say. “But I can come with you.” 

He stares. “You don’t have to do that.” 

“If you ever want to get off this planet, yes, I do,” you say with a smirk. What you don’t say is, And I want you to leave. Despite the fact that you’ve got really lovely shoulders and a cute baby. “Assuming you actually need parts. Can you fix what you need to fix with what you’ve got?” 

He sighs. “Probably not,” he says. “It’s a new ship. I don’t…know it as well as my others.” 

I quirk an eyebrow. “You have others?” 

“Had,” he corrects. “I have had others.” 

“Hm. Alright, well, I’ll help you, if you’ll accept my help. Just don’t point a blaster at me again.” 

There’s that sound again, a little huff, like a laugh. “I’ll ask the same of you,” he says, “if you would.” 

“Mm…I’m already doing you a pretty big favour,” you tease, smirking and patting the blaster that sits at your hip, “I’ll think about it.” 

-

You’re not really big on babies. They’re messy, sticky, demanding, and loud. 

But this one is really very cute. 

He’s got hold of your finger, and is squeezing it gently between his little fingers. Mando tells you that his name is Grogu, and the first time you call him it, his big green ears twitch along with a tilt of his head. 

It probably wasn’t all that wise to let Mando stay the night. Even though he and the kid slept outside in your hiking tent, and you kept the front door locked, you know that he could have without a doubt gotten inside to kill you. Or worse. 

But he didn’t.

All that happens is that, when you wake up, he and the kid are already sitting at the table, and the little box of food that you’d left with them after sunset in case they got hungry was empty. 

You’d talked with Mando a little yesterday, but mostly went about your daily routine like he wasn’t there. He seems good at that; just being still, blending in, the opposite of obtrusive. Which, you suppose, is what makes a good bounty hunter. At least the type that likes to do it with minimal mess.

Still, you’re curious about him. He sat outside all day with the kid, even took him for a walk to the nearby creek in the late afternoon. It’s so strange to see such contrast in him: the cold, hard exterior of his armour, something so impenetrable and immovable; and then the soft way he handles the kid, the way he bounces him on his hip, shows him magic tricks, picks him up when his little hands reach out for him. 

There are a lot of questions on your tongue. Why and how he has the kid, where he came from, where the rest of his people are, how the kriff are you such a gentle person when you’re also the scariest pillar of metal I’ve ever seen?

You keep them to yourself. 

You wouldn’t want anyone asking questions about you. (Hence why you’re here in the first place, but.) So you don’t ask the same of him. 

The morning after he arrived here, the three of you set off for the scrap heap. Your backpack slung over your back, filled with blankets, rations, flasks, and sleeping mats. Mando carries a bag that you gave him, though most of the bulk is your hiking tent. 

It’s only when you’re a half hour into the forest that you realise you’ve only got one tent. 

Three sleeping mats for the floor, yes. Three sets of blankets, yes.

But one kriffing tent. 

Well, you think, we can take sleep watch shifts anyway. 

The sun is warm this morning, but not too hot; just a comfortable heat on your skin as you walk through the thick forest, climbing over fallen trees and winding, gnarled roots that stick up from the ground. It’s mostly dry earth underfoot, some moss glistening on rocks, a few tufts of grass sprouting beneath pillars of light that shine through the treetops. 

Mando isn’t much of a talker, you’re realising. And you can’t decide if you like that or not.

The kid is always babbling, though. He’s got his head sticking out of Mando’s satchel again, and he’s looking around slowly, his mouth slightly open and big eyes wide as he takes in his surroundings. You wonder if he’s ever seen anywhere like this; where the two of them may have been together. You don’t even know what species he is—he could be from somewhere like this. A planet with a warm, mildly humid climate during the spring.

You’re coming up on one of the large valleys that splits the earth, stretching down into a deep cavern filled with rushing water coming from the tall waterfall beside it. You can hear the water before you see any sign of it. 

“We’re coming to the waterfall valley,” you explain, “there’s a fallen tree over the chasm that we can use as a bridge.” 

Wordless, Mando nods in acknowledgement. 

The fallen tree that bridges the gap between sides of the river is giant, both in length and width, with more than enough room to comfortably walk across it in a single-file line. It was probably thousands of years old before it fell. The roots snapped at its base, leaving gnarled and sharp splints of wood curling up into the air and surrounding foliage. On the other side, its branches are bare, the leaves having died and fallen off long ago, and the branches are anchored into the ground after years of being covered by it. 

“It looks mossy,” Mando says as you step up onto it first. “Watch your step.” 

He’s right; the spray of water constantly shooting up into the air from the waterfall has made for a nice home for moss, glistening in dark green florets along the top, with longer water weeds hanging from the underside. 

It could be slippy, but you’ve walked across it many times, and you’re used to it. It’s the only way to the fruit trees in the overgrown meadow. There’s almost a path worn across it, though not quite; the moss grows back far too enthusiastically to stay away. 

Grogu is cooing as you cross. You don’t look back at him lest you lose your footing, but you can imagine that he’s gazing around with that same wonder on his face.

It is pretty. This whole area is pretty. Serene, if you don’t count the various wildlife that can often be just a little hostile. There are birds of prey that swoop down from the impossibly small treetops sometimes; yellow and red lizards that skitter along the forest floor, their tails, complete with stinger, thrashing threateningly into the air as they run past. As long as you keep an ear out, though, it’s alright. 

“I don’t know your name,” Mando’s voice, calm through his helmet, cuts into your thoughts once you’ve crossed. He’s fallen into step beside you, one of his hands absently pressed against the kid’s back. 

You glance at him, uncertain. Technically, you don’t know his name. So, really, it’s only fair that your answer is, “No, you don’t.” 

His helmet tilts as he huffs out a laugh. “Alright. Guess I’m not going to?” 

“Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine,” you challenge, raising a teasing eyebrow at him.

He laughs again. You wonder how often he does that. He seems to live a pretty serious life, with what little information you have on him. But the kid is adorable, and there’s bound to be several times a day where he laughs at his cuteness, surely. “Alright. Fair enough.”

“There’s a river up ahead. I’m going to fill my flask.” You gesture to the approaching clearing where a river cuts through the forest floor, a few metres wide, deeper than it looks. 

“Can we cross it?” 

“We’ll have to get our feet wet, but yes. And watch out for the water snails.” 

“The what?” 

“They live in the riverbed. If your foot lingers too long, they’ll crawl on you and suck you down into the sand. Oh, and then there’s the stinging lizards that live in the brush on each side.” 

The helmet tilts to look at you, and something about his body language comes across as incredulity. “Safe planet you got here,” he says, dry.

The surprise of hearing him make a sarcastic comment catches in a laugh in your throat, bubbling out without permission. “It is safe,” you counter, smiling at him even though he’s not looking at you anymore, “no one else around kind of has that effect.” 

“If there’s nothing on this side of the planet,” he says, “why are you here?” 

A cold stab of dread shoots through your stomach. Quickly, you push it away, forcing the thoughts out of your mind that want to come in and race around until you feel dizzy. To cover up your slight falter, you clear your throat as you step out into the river’s clearing. “How about I don’t ask you about you, and you don’t ask me about me?” 

He stops beside you when you lean down to fill your flask from the rapidly running river water. For a moment, he just observes you, quiet. It’s strange to be able to feel someone’s gaze so strongly when you can’t even see their face, their eyes. “Deal,” he says. 

Satisfied, you stand up straight again, and gesture to the shallower part of the river a few feet to the right. He follows as you step into the water. You keep your steps light and quick, scanning the riverbed for any sign of those metallic-brown molluscs that masquerade as innocent rocks. 

The thing with the snails is that they don’t actually want anything with you. They don’t eat you. They just pull you down into the sand because it’s their instinct. You get stuck, and sink until you drown in the water or the riverbed itself. When one sticks to your foot, the entire swarm of them joins in, and it’s nearly impossible to escape if you don’t catch it quickly enough. Your only hope in that situation is that the blue shindl birds will come and eat the snails before their numbers are too many.

You make it to the other side quickly enough, and turn to watch Mando copying the lightness of your steps. It’s quite amusing, actually, to see this heavily armoured, heavy-booted man taking light footsteps like he’s standing on ground too hot for his feet. The kid laughs from his place in the satchel, and you watch in amusement. 

That is, until, there’s a loud swoop coming from the sky above you, accompanied by a Squalk! 

A shindl bird, bigger than your own body, swoops just metres above you, dipping so low down towards the river that you can feel the downdraft from its giant, pale white and blue feathered wings. 

On instinct, Mando freezes in his tracks, covering the kid with one hand and reaching for his blaster with the other. 

“Don’t shoot it!” You shout hastily, watching as he tracks the bird flying down the length of the river with his blaster’s scope. The bird turns around, heading back to you. “They’re just looking for the snails to eat!” 

Mando ignores you, too busy clutching the kid to his side. 

“Mando, you need to move! The snails!” 

This time, he doesn’t ignore you; but he does only have a second to look back at you before he’s trying to move, to bring his feet out from the riverbed, but one of them is stuck. 

Kriff, he’s stuck.

His visor turns down to his feet. He tugs his left leg, trying to walk forward on it.

“Oh, for kriff’s sake,” you curse, reaching for your own blaster. He’s not sinking yet, but you can already see the large snail on his foot through the water, and more are coming to life beneath the surface, slowly making their way to him. 

The shindl swoops overhead again, lower this time, clearly having spotted the snails too.

“Stay still!” You shout to Mando over the deafening sound of the bird’s wings flapping in the air. 

He looks up at you and sees the blaster pointed towards his foot. “What are you doing?” 

“Just hold still!” You aim through the sight, just an inch away from the edge of Mando’s foot, getting the snail’s eyes right in your crosshair.

Mando protests, saying, “Wait, no, don’t—” But he’s too late, your finger already squeezing the trigger. 

The snail on his foot wilts immediately, like leafy vegetables thrown into a hot pan. Mando wastes no time in pulling on his leg again, and he only just gets himself to move in time before the rest of the snail’s colony is gaining on him and discovering the body of the early bird who got the worm—well, the foot.

He splashes out of the river towards you, still gripping the child to his side, with both hands now. Once he’s free and clear on to the riverbank, he sighs out in relief at the same time you do. 

Lowering your blaster, you watch as the shindl bird swoops right down to the water and ducks its large beak down below the surface, grabbing the dead snail first. Its wings are so wide and so close that you feel the very edge of one of its feathers brush against your face. 

It turns to look at the two of you before it flies up completely vertically into the sky and gives a triumphant cry. 

“You might want to back up,” you tell Mando with a smirk at how he’s trying to scrape off the snail’s goo from the top of his boot. “The rest are coming.” 

“The snails?” 

“No. The birds.” As you reach a hand out in front of him, you back up, automatically taking him with you. He follows willingly, though he could just as easily push you away and defy your advice. 

You step back into the tree line again, under the cover of the rustling branches. 

Before you can even blink, suddenly an entire flock of the shindl birds is descending upon the river where Mando was once stuck, all diving in with their beaks open to pick up as many snails as they can at once. 

Really, Mando did them a favour by getting stuck. The only time the snail colony comes out is when they think they’ve caught something. Otherwise, the shindl have to spend hours looking down into the water, standing still or hovering low, waiting for one to appear before them. 

The flaps and squalks of the birds fills the air, and beneath it, you can hear a trill of glee coming from the kid’s satchel. Looking down, you find his hands outstretched towards the whole ordeal, flapping a little in excitement. 

You chuckle. From under the cover of the trees, it’s a pretty amazing thing to see. The birds’ feathers are metallic and pearly, fading from glistening white to pale blue as the sunlight shifts over their curves and edges. They fly so gracefully despite the frantic fight to find the best snail. 

The first time you got caught in one of their food grabs wasn’t as fun, though. But you learned your lesson. 

“What are those things?” Mando asks. He lifts the kid from the satchel and clutches him to his breastplate, tapping comfortingly at the kid’s tummy. It’s sweet, like he’s reassuring him that everything is alright after what happened.

When you don’t answer right away, the helmet turns to look at you, waiting for an answer. 

You got distracted by him, to be honest. By him and the kid. “They’re shindl birds,” you say. 

He looks back to them. The flock is clearing a little now; you imagine there are only a few snails left for them to devour. 

“They’re native to this planet. They really love those snails.” 

“Hm.” Mando hums, and you’re not sure if it’s an acknowledgement or a laugh. 

“Come on,” you say, gesturing to continue on your path, “we should move.” 

“Are there more creatures out to get us?” 

“Probably. But don’t worry. I’ll save you again, should you need it.” 

Walking alongside you, his helmet tilts. “I can handle myself.” 

“Clearly. You’re welcome, by the way.” 

His sigh is not impatient or unimpressed; in fact, it sounds amused, warm. “Thank you. You did save me back there.” 

“No problem. I’ve dealt with those things before.” 

“I would have appreciated a warning, though.” 

“I gave you a warning; I told you not to stop in the river!” 

“You didn’t tell me about the birds.” 

The kid laughs, lifting up one of his hands to press it against the side of Mando’s helmet. 

“Well, I’m just glad you didn’t shoot them,” you say. Out of the corner of your eye as you walk side-by-side, you observe Mando, watch the kid touch the plate of metal that covers his cheekbone. You realise, then, that you don’t actually know what he looks like. He’s never taken his helmet off in front of you; not even his gloves. You don’t think you’ve even seen him have a drink. 

Maybe it’s for the best, though. Because you’re finding yourself wanting to walk just a little ways behind him so you can admire the casual, commanding way that he walks, the slight swing of his hips as his hands flex at his sides. The breadth of his shoulders, emphasised by his heavy armour. His hips, the way his torso gets only a little narrower towards them, his entire frame straight and wide and beautiful. 

You need to stop. 

You don’t even know what he looks like. 

Speaking of, “Do you want a drink?” 

“I’m fine. Thanks.” 

“Do you drink?” 

“I told you, I’m human.” 

You nod, hoping it comes across as unassuming. But there are so many questions swirling around in your head; so much that you suddenly want to know about him. He’s mysterious, you’ll give him that. Does he do it on purpose? Is it something he does to try and get people to follow him, or is he just genuinely a private person? 

You’re so used to people using tactics, games to mess with you and the way you form relationships, that you never know what to believe. They used to string you along, make you chase them, make you beg for them to just see you, hear you, understand you…and then, just when you felt like you’d finally done enough for them, they’d turn it all around and shut you out again. 

It was a never ending cycle.

It’s hard not to project that onto Mando. He’s the first person you’ve seen since you escaped Them. For all you know, he could be just as manipulative. 

Except, unprompted, he says, “I don’t take my helmet off.” 

Oh. 

Okay, racing thoughts on pause: “What?” 

“It’s part of my Creed. As a Mandalorian.” 

“Oh,” you say as the pieces fit into place. It makes sense now, but you’re still surprised; you didn’t know that about Mandalorians. In fact, you distinctly remember meeting some when you were a child who definitely did not wear their helmet all the time. “So…you’ve never taken it off?” 

He pauses, hesitating. His moment of unprompted honesty falters. “It’s complicated.” 

Oh, great. It’s hard not to put bad intentions on to him when he says stuff like that. It’s complicated.

You wouldn’t understand.

You don’t get to know the secrets. 

You’ve earned my trust, well done.

I never want to see you again. 

You have to force yourself to stop spiralling. For a long moment there, you were no longer walking through the forest with a strange Mandalorian and his little green child. You were walking through the forest with Them. With your family. And the weight of everything they ever did.

You clear your throat, demanding yourself back into the moment. “Is it not uncomfortable?” 

It must be. Especially in humid climates like this. Or maybe it’s temperature-controlled under there. The entire set of armour looks pretty swish; maybe it’s got some cool technology. 

“I’m used to it,” he says, and his tone suggests that that’s the last he wants to talk about it. 

So, you’re quiet again.

You focus on the ground crunching underfoot, the tiny birds whistling in the trees. 

You’re not back there. Mando isn’t Them. 

You’re safe. 

You’re okay. 

notes: i'm REALLY excited to finally be posting this fic! i hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. all interactions are appreciated, but comments and reblogs especially make my day ❤️ updates will be regular!

i'm going to make a taglist for this fic so if you wanna be on it, drop me an ask or reply to this post!

take care of yourself ❤️

[satellitespinner]

dogtooth ; roommate!ellabs

˗ˏˋcollab with my beautiful angel @williamssgirl ´ˎ˗

- inspired by @beforeimdeceased “chaotic roomates” series ! please go support theirs!

reminder !! do not support neil or any of his work !

wc: 2.1k | her ver

⁃ roomate!ellabs who were bsfs w u before and when you needed a place to stay they happily invited you to join them on their lease !

⁃ cooking with them is... chaotic. but some days it was good!

⁃ bumping ur hip with ellie because she sucks and she gets all blushy and flustered

⁃ abby gently grabbing ur hips to get around you

⁃ taking .5s of them ALL THE TIME!! they hate it but you love it

⁃ they have no idea how to use the ring camera you installed, one day they've locked themselves out and are begging you to let them in

⁃ "open the door it's cold out ©" "let us in.... babeeee

⁃ falling asleep while watching a movie like a literal dogpile

⁃ while beforehand yall were arguing for twenty minutes on what movie to watch because you and abby wanted to watch scream and ellie can't handle horror for the LIFE of her

⁃ (so you eventually settle on a romcom)

⁃ abby and ellie playing video games and ur sorta just sitting there staring at their hands watching them play

⁃ "did u win?" "no i died."

⁃ when you do end up playing a game with them it's usually fortnite

⁃ abby is so gentle with you and helping you through the game

⁃ "good job babe!" "show me those bike skills" "want the sniper? i know you said you like those"

⁃ however with ellie....

⁃ "BABE BABE BABE KILL HIM SHOOT HIM SHOOT SHOOT SHOOT" "FUCK HE HAS TO BE A FUCKING
BOT THERES NO WAY" "FUCK YEAH I GOT HIM TAKE THAT"

⁃ ellie putting her hands on urs on the controller when their first teaching you how to play and whenever she gets touchy <3

⁃ sitting on their laps while they play...

⁃ sleepover with them go NUTS

⁃ ellie buys SO MUCH SOUR CANDY

⁃ abby fucking HATES sour candy and you and ellie are trying to trick her into having a warhead

⁃ "no im not putting that vile shit in my mouth" "abby it's literally so sweet trust me" "no eat it it's just candy" "just try!

⁃ pouting to get ur way and she gives in (and immediately spits it out)

⁃ pouting to get ur way works with her no matter what

⁃ abby would be a personal trainer and also work somewhere in analytics

⁃ ellie would be a mechanic and livestream for a living (she acts like it's no big deal but she's gained a surprisingly large following)

⁃ reader owns a bakery that's also a flower shop and always brings in spare treats for them to have!

⁃ "guys i got doughnuts for you!"

⁃ you buy them flowers all !! the !! time !! and you assign really specific meanings to them

⁃ "so the poppy means... and the tulip with the poppy means..."

⁃ they're pretending to listen... (they are listening so intently)

⁃ them ganging up to tickle u at least once a day (you act like you despise it but in reality your devouring it)

⁃ FORCING THEM TO MAKE TIKTOKS WITH YOU

⁃ abby's texting you "Babe wdym I have to take a quiz on what aura I have." "can u just do it?"

⁃ omfg and forcing abby to get tiktok because she refused to get it for so long only for her to be on it more than you

⁃ getting into an argument with one of them is certainly something!

⁃ ur refusing to talk to ellie and ur communicating to her through abby (ellie is speaking to you directly and you are staring at abby "abby tell ellie im not speaking to her rn" and ur being DEAD serious... they're laughing their asses off

⁃ kissing abby in front of ellie to make her jealous when ur fighting

⁃ and whenever ellie and abby are fighting you straight up ignore them until they come to their senses and apologise

⁃ matching tattoos! you have a sun, abby has a moon and ellie has the stars V

⁃ uno and they both have extra cards under the table

⁃ "are you guys cheating" "OH MY GOD NO OF COURSE NOT-" "HOW COULD YOU EVEN SUGGEST THAT?!" "WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" "WE WOULD NEVER DO THAT TO YOU A GAMES A GAME"

⁃ ellie standing up to get water and you yell at her

⁃ abby and ellie pull pranks on eachother all the time!

⁃ and you are constantly getting caught in the middle of it

⁃ and one time you contribute and both of them are arguing on who did what prank having zero clue it was you

⁃ and ur just giggling off to the side

⁃ the two would have such bad jealousy issues

⁃ like they see u GLANCE at another girl and they're dragging you home

⁃ and then they go "we aren't even jealous people! she was practically eye fucking you. that's why we left!"

⁃ like girl she had a whole bf

⁃ imagine covering them in lipstick kissed and taking a picture...

⁃ making them do the lipstick trend

⁃ OR the nail polish eye colour trend!

⁃ u having a hard day and they're RUSHING to comfort you

⁃ girls were STRESSEDDDD like ellie's holding you while abby's rushing to get the bath filled up

⁃ "stupid fucking bathtub isn't filling up!!! hurry up!!!!!" and now they're more stressed than you fo

⁃ the nicknames.

⁃ ellie's pretty basic with it. calling you babe, baby, honey, pretty girl, etc.

⁃ but with abby she likes to be unique with it. calling you princess, darling, etc.

⁃ and u reversing the nicknames on them...

⁃ talking to abby and she's helping u w something and u go "thanks princess!" then kiss her on the cheek like nothing happened

⁃ "she's like "tf??"

⁃ but with ellie she's chasing you around the house and pinning you down till you say she's daddy

⁃ how rewardina it is for them when ther see u aet allblushy and stuff

⁃ they would feel so cocky and proud of the themselves

⁃ abby sending you playlists and ellie showing you drawings

⁃ and the gifts they would get u ! like gift giving isn't their love language but they wanna spoil you

⁃ "oo i like that shirt" abby's already ordered it. in every colour.

⁃ like you sneak a peek at a bracelet and now it's ellie's job to keep you distracted while abby runs in and buys it

⁃ sleeping w a stuffy and being so tired and giving it a kiss on the cheek and bestfriend!ellie is all like

⁃ "where's mine"

⁃ she gets jealous with the amount of plushies u sleep with
"she's the typa girl to joke "hey mamas where's my kiss" after u get home from work and ur just staring at her like
with flour all over you from a failed
recipe

⁃ "no? okay sorry babe"

⁃ goodcop!abby badcop!ellie when u do something bad!

⁃ "babe.... just tell me where u hid my keys and all will be good" "ALL RIGHT LISTEN UP WOMAN..."

⁃ then they end up finding the keys under the couch

⁃ but u lowk hid them there cause you didn't want them to leave..

⁃ abby had a snapchat hey mamas phase and ellie was there to see it

⁃ AND ellie uses it as blackmail in the go

⁃ abby: "Ellie you're so dumb how could you get the directions wrong." "wanna see a magic trick."

⁃ abby backtracks so fast in hopes it'll save her from her fate (it doesn't).

⁃ "and that's the end of my magic show! thank u and goodnight "then ellie disappears because she knows abby will beat her ass

⁃ they have pictures of you in a gallery and you don't know about it

⁃ "is this me sleeping?" "gimme my fuckin phone back-" "you ain't seen NOTHING"

⁃ you would take so many pics of urself on their phones!

⁃ like at dinner and you've managed to sneak one of their phone's under the table and are taking silly selfies

⁃ and you take videos of them snatching their phones back

⁃ the screen is all black and all you can hear is rustling and the faint sound of ellie whining "babe my storageeee" and abby's just laughing

⁃ flipping them off by accident in a photo (both me and aria are victims to this)

⁃ you mean to do 🤘 or 👍 but instead do 🖕

⁃ ellie's feigning hurt and abby's laughing so hard

⁃ abby uses "🤣" and "LOL" but then ellie uses "😭" and "LMAO"

⁃ abby is so literal with her texting

⁃ She types like this. Always uses proper grammar no matter what.

⁃ and ellie... ELLEI TWXTS LIKE THIS

⁃ "babky were is tje Irnon" "ALL CAPS NO PUNCTUSLYIK PJNCTISNTILN"

⁃ ur the only person who can translate ellie's awful texting so you'll occasionally get texts from joel saying stuff like "Kiddo do you know what she was tryna say here?"

⁃ ellie is dyslexic

⁃ and a professional yapper which is why she likes streaming so much

⁃ abby fights the urge to tell her to shut the fuck up

⁃ and sometimes after like a really hard day at work all you wanna do is relax and they just let you

⁃ sending them paragraphs about how much you love them just out of the blue

⁃ ellie's like "??? ru gonna kys"

⁃ abby leaves you on read and smothers you when she's home

⁃ abby chronically leaves people on read

⁃ ellie greets you by slapping or pinching ur ass and abby greets you by giving you a kiss on the side of your face ellie also pretends to fuck you from the back whenever you bend down to pick something up

⁃ the amount of facetimes when you didn't live with them! and the amount you get when your on some sort of work trip

⁃ falling asleep on call and them taking secret screenshots and texting eachother in fear of waking you up

⁃ facetiming you on abby's macbook

⁃ abby uses apple and ellie uses a microsoft laptop

⁃ when ur on a work trip and they're harassing you to call

⁃ "i'm in a meeting" "answer facetime"

⁃ "gimme 5" "5...4...3.2.."

⁃ nobody's home except you and you burn yourself cooking

⁃ they are be RUSHINGGG home

⁃ "guys it's fine i literally barley did anything" "YOUR GONNA DIE"

⁃ "ARE TOU OKAY?!?" "i am literally fine"

⁃ omg the day they actually pay attention to work and your at home and they don’t have a lot of time for you is the day you die

⁃ "i'm in a meeting what's up" "im dynggg.... come back......... zhellipppppp....

⁃ and then you get all bratty and needy

⁃ "come home or i'm gonna fall ill' "YOURE GONNS

⁃ FALL ILL??"

⁃ sitting in abby's lap while she's working from home

⁃ <3

⁃ she's sitting on her chair and ur straddling her with ur face in her shoulder

⁃ biting her arm randomly and she's like "ow wtf?!"

⁃ " biting her for the first time and she's like "?!" girl was alarmed... "are you going feral what is up with you"

⁃ eventually she just gets used to it at some point

⁃ zero reaction to you biting her now

⁃ they go to the gym without you and send gym selfies

⁃ abby LOVESSS to flex

⁃ she'll never admit it but this girl is trying so hard to excentuate her muscles around u

⁃ throws you over her shoulder effortlessly

⁃ annoying her and going "watcha gonna do abby? kidnap me?" and she, in fact, does.

⁃ "let me go!" and she just pats ur ass

⁃ and ellie's always wearing shirts that show her arms off

⁃ making them kiss LOOOLLL

⁃ "awh i think we need a ship name now!" "SHUT UP"

⁃ forcing them to talk to eachother by ignoring them and then they have to talk to eachother on wether or not ur pissed at them or if ur just not in the mood to talk

⁃ them fighting over everything including you

⁃ but or not official with either of them and could go flirt around if u wanted

⁃ them showing up at whatever place u have a date at or something and trolling the poor girl ur out with and then angry dragging u home

⁃ they get SO possessive

⁃ ellie listens to boygenius and you had to beg abby to listen to them and now she loves them

⁃ ellie's got 21 savage, the weeknd, drake, tyler the creator, the neighborhood, chase atlantic, etc on her playlists

⁃ her and abby have similar music tastes with distinct differences

⁃ like abby listens to tyler the creator as well, chase atlantic, HOZIER, frank sinantra, frank ocean.

⁃ all of you love phoebe, mac miller, lorde and childish gambino!

⁃ and you LOVE kali uchis. ur the lalalala to their okokok

⁃ you discovered her when she released telapatia and have been obsessed ever since

⁃ both abby and ellie had a girl in red phase...

⁃ sleeping together in abby's bed bc hers is the biggest

⁃ ur favourite mornings are ones when you can't even get up and out of bed because abby's spooning you and ellie's arm is hung loosely over ur waist

⁃ your situated in the middle with abby on ur right and ellie on ur left

⁃ waking them up with breakfast!
"abby waking up to smelling some delicious food and hugging you from behind with her eyes closed and neck shoved into ur shoulder "smells s' good baby... wanted to spoil us even more after last night huh?" in their raspy morning voice

⁃ all ur in is an oversized tee and some white bow cotton panties (it's one of abby's post workout shirts)

⁃ the only dirt abby has on ellie is the amount of foul photos she has of her sleeping

⁃ ellie drools AND snores

⁃ latching on to you for dear life

⁃ ur shoving the pillow over ur ears in hopes she'll stfu

⁃ and she NEVER does

⁃ sleeping skin to skin with them :)

⁃ "take of your clothes" "why? you wanna..?" "no i just wanna feel u... is that okay?"

⁃ abby has soft skin and ellie has a bunch of random bruises and scars

⁃ abby and ellie are genuinely head over heels for u in all seriousness

⁃ even if they don't like eachother they cope with it for you!

⁃ smooching one of them really hard and like forcing the "MMMMWAH" sound

⁃ ellie has a main insta with zero posts and a spam with 827

⁃ abby has three accounts, one for gains, her main & her stalker (for ur safety obviously)

⁃ meanwhile u just have a main which u post on all the time and a private that nobody knows about for stalking

⁃ ellie shit posts "lol" and it's a photo of a rat smoking a cigarette

⁃ and those stupid memes

⁃ (image)

⁃ sent to abby cause you made a joke about her being breedable in bed 😭

⁃ nsfw!

⁃ ANGRY MAKEUP SEX.

⁃ ellie kisses ur tummy before she eats it

⁃ and abby puts her forearm on ur lower stomach and applies pressure

⁃ abby calls u good girl

⁃ abby comforting you when ellie's going just a little bit too aggressively and manhandling you

[hadesisonlyalad]

yk i dont post a lot on tumblr but we all saw that red flags post so im gonna take a moment of ur time to say something on each merc and the red flags listed for them. im doing a read more incase u havent seen the “mercs red flags” headcanon post and it does not flood ur page

both the medic and engie things with “not wanting to spend time with you/wont make time for you” is SUCH bullshit if that was the case they wouldnt even date you. and then ur telling me engie tf2, DELL CONAGHER, would NEVER want to take you on a date? like ever??? u are INSANE. And then sorry to tackle medic and engie in the same paragraph but they had a lot of common “””””red flags””””” that were listed. why would he yell at you. he hardly even yells in general (based off comics and voice lines) if anything hes just kinda a loud person 💀 AND YOU BRINGING UP ONE THING WONT MAKE HIM SUDDENLY IGNORE YOU FOR DAYS LIKE?? he KNOWS hes committing medical malpractice btw. he would not leave you for bringing that up he is WELL AWARE of what hes doing. and we see him CANONICALLY DISCIPLINE ARCHIMEDES IN MEET THE MEDIC, WHY WOULD HE TOLERATE HIS BIRDS ATTACKING YOU????

also why are we listing an addiction as a “red flag” what the fuck is wrong with you. i get not wanting to date someone with an addiction, its a valid concern, but thats SO much more serious than a “red flag” or “ick”??? LIKE ARE YOU OKAYYYY???????

AND THEN HEAVY’S RED FLAG IS “he has trauma” FUCKING. PACK IT UP GUYS IG IF YOU HAVE TRAUMA YOU CAN NEVER BE IN A RELATIONSHIP. (/s) WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU.

i’m fine with the miss pauling ones, at least two of them, because yeah, it’s canon that she doesn’t have the most time and i imagine if ur not a merc or work in that area a relationship might be a bit hard? but shes an honest person, i don’t think she’s gonna lie to you. idk im very neutral about the pauling ones, if anything theyre the most in character of this shithole list.

all i have to say for pyro is like. yk those people who hc pyro as aroace except theyre super weird about it? like theyre either infantilizing them or have weird ableist feelings about pyro? yeah thats the vibes im getting. actually wait where did u pull codependent pyro from actually wtf

i think the “tryna live like hes 20” thing for spy is really fucking funny 💀 like go girl go live through that middle age crisis!!/j no but seriously. hes dating you hes gonna think you’re a 10, and even then YOU’RE SAYING IF YOU AGE AT ALL HE’LL LEAVE YOU??? CANON MILF LOVER SPY. “OFF TO VISIT YOUR MOTHER!” SPY TF2. WILL LEAVE YOU IF YOU GET OLD AND AGE AT ALL…? HE LIKES HIS WOMEN LIKE HE LIKES HIS WINE MOTHERFUCKER: AGED. sorry bad joke lets keep going uh- i think the other hcs are garbage too i just really hate specifically this spy hc. just this one specifically.

im not a sniper connoisseur, my friend will is way better versed in sniper’s characterization, but even i know this isnt sniper. “thinks if he argues long enough he’ll win”…? “cannot support you in anything”?!!?! “IF YOU’RE HIS FRIEND AND YOU TWO GET INTO A BAD ARGUMENT PREPARE TO NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN” IM GENUINELY AT A LOSS FOR WORDS. I JUST. I DONT..? WHAT DO I EVEN SAY. I DONT K N O W WHAT TO SAY. BUT IF I DID KNOW WHAT TO SAY I’D BE SAYING VERY BAD THINGS.

i dont think scout is misogynistic- i see why people think that but me personally i just think he has no game and people mistake it as violent misogyny for some reason. but. listen we know scout is a dick we do okay but he loves women. why would he cheat on you.? bro he’d be glad u picked him 😭 AND THEN THE PERIOD THING?? he was raised by a SINGLE MOM do you REALLY think shes gonna raise him and let him think that way about a natural body function. im speaking entirely from the single mom experience and the answer is NO!!!! also how is loving your mother a red flag. being the youngest child is also a red flag, i guess. and having issues with his dad. (/s) also, second verse same as the first: IF HES DATING YOU HE THINKS YOU’RE A 10 WHAT IS SO HARD TO FUCKING GET ABOUT THISHXWHBVWBWBXvqvsbs?1?2!2’wndjwke

uhhh soldier wasnt. here for some reason. so nothing to say about him.

anyway leave ur opinions below. i rly dont wanna get into any tumblr drama or internet drama at all bc it scares me dearly and im always self conscious about leaving a bad digital footprint especially over something as petty as tf2 drama but i cannot stand for this slander I CANNOT‼️‼️‼️‼️ sorry if u also think im mischaracterizing anyone here i only put hours of studying into my fav mercs and thats. abt it,, listen im silly okay

[wyldblunt]

talking abt oc boss battle mechanics in a server and so today's warmup scribblies: evil old bitch who won't stop spam-summoning his personal assistants to beat your ass

standard sniper main phase where u have to save ur dodges in case he targets u, stay ranged bc if u get too close he'll just explode u and shadowstep to a different location, etc. the real bloat of the fight is the summon phase where he brings in viper squad

the strat is DON'T!!! TOUCH!!!!!!!! MERRIT bc once merrit's health hits like 20% he immediately pulls the whole team regardless of what else is happening, and if you didn't down any of them before that then they will all come back w full health next time. it's the worst

after each summon phase he also deadeye marks whoever dealt the most damage to merrit last round + will just relentlessly down that specific person barring a cc check. no this mechanic is never explained or telegraphed beyond the "beloved" tooltip in tiny font on merrit's thingy

anyway once u pick off viper squad (best order to go in is usually damage > daimhin > donner > merrit), he'll swap to dagger/dagger, namebar changes to Legendary Bloodstone-Crazed Glyndwr, and then you just stack and try not to die! for like another ten minutes!! no one will ever run this content with you

(health bar template from here!)

[coinlockerrbaby]

Guys Verlaine if he wasn't a loser and also was a magical girl from hit animanga series Madoka Magica 🙀🙀 (and also a gal :3)

get ready 4 my yapping (and better quality close-ups) below!!!!

Okay so in this AU them and Rimbaud r both 19!!!

Verlaine's wish was to bring Chuuya back after he went missing; Chuuya disappeared at 5 and was gone for two years before Kyuubey showed up.

In this Chuuya's 14 and came back @ 7 so Verlaine would've made their contract at 12!!! (They've been a magical girl 4 a hot minute)

They still keep a lot of the whole "I'm not human" edginess but this time it's over being a magical girl (bro did NOT react well to finding out abt the soul gem thing). Them nd Rimbaud have a bit of a better relationship than canon cuz Rimbaud's also a magical girl so Verlaine actually feels understood in this universe.

Story-wise they both were doin pretty good until an amount of circumstances led to them having to kill Walpurgisnacht on their own. While they did succeed, they both had completely used up all their magic and were gonna become witches </3

Rimbaud pulls a Madoka and sacrifices himself with their only grief seed :( Verlaine's forced to kill Rimbaud (or the witch that used 2 be Rimbaud el oh el) and it fucks him up a little :3

Verlaine's super devastated cuz bro lost the only person who understood them and they essentially gave up on living; so they decide to just start killing witches (and quite a few magical girls!!!!). It doesn't take long for them to transform into their own witch and get killed (probably by Chuuya nd Dazai) </3

OK DESIGN DETAILS!!!

Their weapon is a sniper rifle, it's magical so they can summon it but only one at a time so not like Mami's many revolvers!! It can shoot lil mini black holes and it's pretty fancy :3

Also close-up of the Soul Gem this took like 4 tries to look okay </3

Their outfit's pretty similar, I gave them like a huge coat that they don't rlly wear cuz it'd be so impractical in battles </3 also the design on their gloves and tights are supposed to mimic brutalisation :3

(also if u look real close they have heterochromia yippee!!!)

MY FAV PART THE WITCH FORM

The runes (hopefully) spell out Guivre cuz that's the name of Verlaine's witch form :3

I wanted to reference what's described in Stormbringer so the "tail" nd "head" are inspired by that tomfoolery!! It's also supposed to mimic a dragon with butterfly wings instead of normal wings (idk why i drew butterfly wings they're just fun ig) and it also has horns :3

The lil halo thing in the back's supposed to look divine in a way????? also it just looks cool

meow

Im gonna draw Rimbaud in the future but 4 now I'm done yapping thanks 4 reading this :3

ALSO this started like 2 years ago when Pinterest did this!!!

and then my wife drew the first iteration of magical girl verlaine...

:3

[callsignfangs]

141 + Fangs with the reader who has a paper star making addiction. (Platonic) /nf

You feed me so well pooks 😇

For context: Fangs is also a CoD oc sorta thingy of mine 😚 I’ll add theirs at the end for anyone who’s interested 💟💟

-

141 + Fangs & Paper star addicted reader <3

Price:

• Really doesn’t get it. He adores how often you gift them to him but has absolutely no clue what to do with them.

• Ended up repurposing one of his desk drawers to fill them with. Also generally always has some laying around.

• Is irrationally pissy whenever someone insults them. Think they’re weird? At least his partner loves him enough to spend their time making things for him instead of shitty storebought gifts every other month, Samantha.

Gaz:

• Is absolutely giddy about them.

• Learns to make them with you so you two can make a collection together 😇

• Came up with the idea of making them out of sugar paper and incorporating them into food as well, bc why not??

• Puts them literally everywhere. He has little tupperware boxes and mugs full of them placed all over his room.

Ghost:

• Secretly loves sitting and watching you make them. Seeing your fingers curl around the paper with each other fold, it’s just mesmerising to him.

• Can’t get the hang of it himself, though. Poor lad’s fumbling, catching his fingers on every other corner, his hands are just too big.

• Has at least one on him at all times. On a mission? Scattered across his vest pockets. Out running errands? One on the specially made keychain his house keys are on.

• Gets surprisingly upset if any of them get ripped/damaged. Still has a few on his floor because god knows this man has knocked over piles or containers of them, and/or used them as extra ammo during pillow fights.

Soap:

• Similar to Gaz, also very happy about them 😇

• Incorporates them into random things in his life. Definitely shaved a few stars into his mohawk. Maybe even got a star-related tattoo.

• Has them literally everywhere. Whenever he cleans up or redecorates his room, he’ll find at least a dozen just strewn about.

• Can’t exactly get the hang of tiny paper stars either, so whenever he makes them with you he gets big strips of paper so he can actually fold them.

• Always complains about how disarming explosives/tinkering with the tiny, intricate little bits in his snipers is somehow easier than folding those stupid bloody bits of paper.

• Angst warning ahead - Have you lot seen that tiktok video of the person who’s father hid rubber ducks around their house, and after he passed they found one in the console of their car? Yeah. That’s what you’re met with after MW3. You’re welcome 😇 (edit: found it on reddit instead of tt 😚)

Fangs:

• A little confused at first, but eventually catches up with it.

• Will get deeply upset if they lose one you’ve gifted them. Yeah, they have at least three hundred others, but it was a gift from you!!

• Like Soap, starts bringing them into projects. Impulsively starts a full art project based completely around them, and has to shamefully slink over and ask you to make them more 😇

• Sorta gets the hang of them. To say they’re a bit wonky is an understatement, but they’re trying their best, and they don’t really mind as long as they’re having fun (silently raged for at least half an hour over them).

• Paints a star on their favourite rifle. Price wasn’t very happy when they went on a night mission and he spotted a little painted star glowing in the dark, and they very reluctantly peeled of the paint and replaced it with a less noticeable colour.

-

Giggle donee 😇 My brains been kinda rotting over this lately and I have a Farah ask that I’m going a liiil feral over so yippee 🎉 (if ur seeing this i love u farah anon(s?) /p 😋)

Okok yaya but thanks pooks this dragged me out of my like writing hole very happy 💪

[king-casino]

hellooo,,, ur art makes me very happy 😭

ummm,, if u want to share,, do u have any either sniperspy or dad!spy headcanons???

Dad!Spy:

-scout and spy make the same face whenever they kill someone in a particularly sadistic way

-scouts name is actually spelt the french way, Jérémy

-once it was revealed that spy was scouts dad, they tried to do "father son bonding" activities. Scouts idea was playing baseball, but that just ended in scout hitting a ball directly into spys face. Multiple times.

-spys idea for bonding was drinking scotch by the fireplace and not talking. Which. Is not scouts strong point.

-eventually they found things they can do together. One of which is cooking! Spy loves to make fancy french food, and scout helped his mom out in the kitchen a lot.

-spy taught scout how to make french omelettes. Scout had a hard time with the rolling at first, but when he got the hang of it he was very proud of himself

-scout basically forced spy to listen to Tom Jones' entire discography. But in return scout had to listen to spy talk about his knife collection.

Sniperspy:

-sniper is totally autistic and semi-verbal FIGHT ME. He talks with sign language sometimes when he doesn't wanna talk, and for a good while Pyro was the only one who understood him. But once spy and sniper got together, sniper taught spy sign language at spy's request.

-spy likes sneaking up on sniper and taking his hat before saying hi to him. Sniper acts angy but lets it slide because spy looks pretty cute in his hat.

-in fact, sniper loves seeing spy in his clothes. Possessive animal instincts.

-they exchange small gifts a lot. Spy gives sniper fancy rings and other small shiny things. Sniper makes spy little nick-nacks. He made spy a necklace out of a crocodile tooth and a leather cord. Spy wears it everyday. Sniper wears the rings spy got him, choosing different ones each day.

-sniper deffo does wood carving in his spare time, and gives the random things he makes to spy. Spy loves them and displays them in his smoking room

-both of them tend to get caught up in things and forget to eat, so the other usually brings food when they do.

-sniper was definitely touch starved before getting together with spy. At first he was very awkward and stiff about affection, but after awhile he was all over spy. He's like an octopus when they're alone.

-in regards to PDA, spy is more likely to engage in it. One of his favorite things to do is rile up sniper while they're in public. Like standing super close to sniper and putting his hand in sniper's back pocket, basically groping him! Spy's a little pest, and pretends like nothing is wrong while sniper looks like a frickin tomato next to him

-scout is good friends with sniper, and is absolutely horrified that sniper is dating his dad. Whenever he sees them kiss or whatever, he makes a big show of gagging and saying "EWWWWWWW" like a little kid

-spy is polyamous, but sniper is not. In the way that sniper only wants to be with spy, but he's fine with spy dating other people. He's a little possessive, but ultimately all he wants is for spy to be happy. Their dynamic is that spy won't have casual sex with people, like one night stands or friends with benefits type things. But if he wants to go on dates and have a serious relationship, he will.

-spy is still in a serious relationship with Scout's mom, who's also polyamous. Though she prefers casual relationships with other people that aren't spy.

OK SORRY FOR THE LONG POST I JUST THINK ABOUT THEM A LOT

[theoutlawfaleena]

the king & the siren

könig x gender-neutral sniper!reader

warnings cod-typical violence, blood, probably military inaccuracy bc i have no idea what i'm talking about [cries]

tags unhinged könig, sniper reader, some mild tension, backstory leading into something more 👀, könig is unhinged but he's not rlly a red flag?, u just gotta read it to know what i'm talking abt bro, forced proximity but without the forced

i have nothing to say for myself. just have this as a peace offering

As an operator working under the private contractor known plainly as KorTac, your job is simple. You go where you're ordered to go, shoot whomever you're ordered to shoot, and then you pack up your things and wait for the next job. It's an uncomplicated existence, and it's all-consuming. It takes you by that invisible chain that anchors you to the earth and yanks you into the dirt, over and over until you learn to harden yourself, to spit the grit from your mouth and catch yourself before the fall ever comes.

The pull of the chain is something you have long since become familiar with. It comes with each body you drop, each bomb you set off, each grenade pin you pull off with your teeth where the metal bites into your tongue and fills your mouth with the taste of pennies. It turned you into the Siren, a sniper who grabs the attention of enemies with light hums and short whistles and embeds a bullet in their skull once their curiosity brings them close enough.

For a while, you did not think you could live without the pull of that chain; though harsh it may have been, it was a sole companion in a way of life that left no room for companionship.

Then, like some kind of cruel joke played at the hand of whatever force dealt you sour luck, that kid from Austria was recruited to the team.

He couldn't have been any older than twenty-five upon his arrival, standing at a mountainous six-feet-ten-inches with a body that swallowed up the space in doorframes, and it was not even his height that stood out as the most notable thing about him; rather, it was the dark sniper hood draped over his head to conceal his face, only cut to reveal wild eyes that looked anywhere but the eyes of others. It earned him plenty of barking shouts from your superiors, ordering him to look them in the eyes when he was being spoken to.

He went by König, meaning "king."

You did not give him long.

And much to your surprise, he lasted.

You learned that he had been a Jagdkommando with his native Austrian army, placed in the position of an insertion specialist. He was vying for a spot as a sniper, but those above him had quickly come to the conclusion that his hulking size and a rather problematic inability to sit still would not work in anyone's favor, and his aspirations had been rejected. His immense size and strength made him an ideal battering ram, however, and that was precisely what he was appointed to do.

Of course, such stories were only rumors that flew from the mouths of your teammates, for another thing you learned was that he did not speak; not to any of you, anyway. He spoke on the field, and that was that. You were not keen on prying information out of him yourself, for what business of it was yours?

As if the universe was crafted to laugh in your face when you needed it least, his business became yours when he was made one of your mission partners during an operation carried out in Berlin.

Al-Qatala fighters had a cell there, holed up with hostages they intended to traffic and force to do God-knows-what. Your mission was easy. Eliminate the fighters, free the hostages. You had seen it done countless times before. König and the others would be at your side, ordered to break through doors and gun down hostiles who stood in your way. You would open the mission with first contact, stationed just close enough to lure the enemy to your position and make the first kill. Your team would follow, and the holding cell would be breached. The rest was supposed to fall easily into place without a hitch. You'd done this time and time again; the chain pulls, and you stand fast.

Muffled voices moved in and out of the seized townhouse. Al-Qatala, no doubt. The air stunk of cigarette smoke and what was left of bombings to keep any hostiles at bay. Every now and then, a cry from a hostage would ring out, only to be followed by a shouting order or a sickening crack indicative of someone being fiercely struck with an open hand. That day, the entire city of Berlin held its breath, and so did you. It sat heavy within your chest, suspended at the base of your throat where you felt your heart thumping.

You waited for your team to gather into position. When the signal came through, the garbling through your earpiece, you finally swallowed. You readied your rifle, lifting your head and gazing through the scope at the shadows that moved across the windows.

You began to hum. Die Zauberflöte; the Queen of the Night's aria, a high-pitched staccato that came in short breaths. For one agonizing moment, the entire earth fell still.

A window broke; glass shattered. The air whistled as a bullet cut through it and flew past your head. On instinct, you flattened yourself to the ground immediately. The shot sounded moments later, ringing in your ears. A spray of warm liquid cast itself across your face. All hell broke loose at once as shouting and screaming arose from within the townhouse, along with the unmistakable sound of doors slammed open as a heavy body made quick work of them. Your team; you could hear your team joining the cacophony of noise. Gritting your teeth, you picked yourself back up and stared through the scope, eyes searching madly for their hidden gunman. The broken window offered a better view, enough that you could see a black-clad mass powering through the bodies inside. Your heart pounded in your ears. This position was doing nothing for you. You had to move.

Teeth grit, you vaulted down the nearest fire escape and broke into a sprint towards the townhouse. The door was left in shambles from the number that the Austrian had done on it, but you had no time to be impressed. Shrieks of horror and shouted commands drove you forward and you held your weapon out before you.

"Look alive!"

It was a call to your team, an indication that you were there. Leaving your station was not a common occurrence but you'd been left blind and of little help to them. The stench of blood was an immediate assault to your senses; it was a grisly scene, bodies of Al-Qatala fighters littering the floor riddled with bullets or with cut throats. Your team. You followed the screams of hostages, stepping over bodies that you didn't recognize as you sprinted downstairs, your rifle at the ready.

You anticipated that the bodies of your teammates would greet you, thrown to the wolves due to your inability to find the gunman. Blood pooled at the bottom of the stairs and you ran through it, turning the corner to find your team, seemingly safe, and yet stunned into a silence. Only the weeping of hostages could be heard. You opened your mouth to alert them of your presence, but stopped at the sight that awaited you.

Blood dripped from the hood of the Austrian. König. It soaked through the fabric and painted the exposed skin around his eyes a horrific shade of red. They were wide, and wild; he looked at you like a wolf poised to attack, and you imagined sharp teeth bared beneath the hood that sent a chill throughout your whole body.

He regarded you for only a moment, then turned his back on you to face the Urzik hostages, held within a cell crafted by the fighters. They cried out at the sight of him and drew closer to one another, even when the door creaked open and he allowed them an exit.

"Follow me," He said, and they flinched at the sound of his voice. At once, one of your teammates stepped forward, pulling his mask down to speak to them in a language they could understand. You didn't know it yourself, but you knew when the hostages reluctantly began to follow after König that something had been said to convince them he was there to help them despite his ghastly appearance. Falling in with the rest of your team, you gently guided hostages forward and out of the townhouse into the open air outside. Once the area was declared clear, emergency personnel on standby flooded the area with helicopters and cars to assess the damage and tend to the wounded and traumatized. The noise was a buzz in your ear, punctuated by a stinging pain that dominated the entire right side of your head from the ear to your jaw. Wincing, you raised your hand to your face, and it came away slick with blood.

You were acutely aware of the gaze bearing into you, but you did not acknowledge it until then. You lifted your head and met König's eyes. He stood an arm's-length away from you, a terrifying blood-soaked vision that studied you silently. You thought for a moment that he was looking directly at you, and it surprised you; however, you quickly realized he was trained on your ear.

"You're bleeding," He finally commented.

You bit back a laugh. It was funny, coming from someone who looked like he did in that moment. Hearing him acknowledge it worsened the pain, and you almost wished he hadn't pointed it out.

"Good eye," You replied.

If it amused him, he didn't show it. His eyes did not betray him for a second, but you had a feeling that yours did. Pain coursed through you like a red-hot blade pushing into your skin. König searched for something amidst his gear. When he closed the distance between you and himself, you had half a mind to back away, but when a bundle of gauze was placed to your ear, you instinctively reached out and grabbed his arm to steady yourself, sucking in air through your teeth.

You swayed lightly, but he stood like some kind of great oak, unmoving. His skin was hot to the touch, and it reduced the pain in your head to a dull throb. Swallowing, you reached out and held onto his arm with both hands.

"Where'd you get that?" You asked. Not that it mattered, but you certainly didn't have gauze in your gear at that moment. He paused, and you felt him shift against you.

"Borrowed it," He said. "From Sanitäter."

The way he said it suggested that "borrowed" may have been stretching the truth. Though it was painful, a smile pulled up at the corner of your mouth; you lifted your head to look at him and found that he was already looking at you. Blue. His eyes were blue, though the bloodstains around them made them seem starkly white.

You stumbled, and he steadied you. Quickly, you murmured an apology and dropped your head again, fixing your eyes on the ground.

König's eyes were blue.

You could not shake the way he looked at you, and you did not know why.