#idk it felt a little fresher

[maddie-grove]

My Top Twenty Books I Read in 2022

I haven't had a ton of time or concentration available to write book reviews this past year, or even to read nearly as much as I usually do, but I thought I would post my top 20 from last year.

Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia (2020)

The Testaments by Margaret Atwood (2019)

Unmask Alice by Rick Emerson (2022)

Ghost Wall by Sarah Moss (2018)

Wahala by Nikki May (2022)

Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson (2014)

Secrets of a Summer Night by Lisa Kleypas (2004)

Dune by Frank Herbert (1965)

Isabel: Jewel of Castilla by Carolyn Meyer (2001)

Maddaddam by Margaret Atwood (2013)

We Sold Our Souls by Grady Hendrix (2018)

Summerwater by Sarah Moss (2020)

Through the Woods by Emily Carroll (2014)

The Mirror and the Light by Hilary Mantel (2020)

Scandal in Spring by Lisa Kleypas (2006)

Devil in Winter by Lisa Kleypas (2006)

Devil House by John Darnielle (2022)

The Nineties by Chuck Klosterman (2022)

Normal People by Sally Rooney (2018)

Horrorstör by Grady Hendrix (2014)

[bingbongsupremacy]

Closure Pt. 3

I'm taking requests! Please send you ideas in! I'd love to write them!

Pairing: Steve Harrington x plus size!reader

Warnings: swearing, anger, idk what else

Series Summary: You never knew Steve could be so shallow. When he leaves you to date Nancy Wheeler, you're left with a pain you thought he'd never leave with you. Maybe you should've stayed friends.

Part Summary: Robin invites you over for a small get-together before you leave, little did you know Steve was also invited.

*Not Proof Read* Stranger Things Masterlist

Based on Taylor Swift's Song Closure. This was a request. I tried to make everything as general as possible. Pls let me know if missed something ty. Also Eddie did not die in this.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

*****

It's just an hour. And it'll be nice to see everyone again. I mean, I haven't seen Robin in years. I wonder whatever happened with Vickie.

I press the doorbell of the older-looking apartment. A loud ring echoes from the other side of the door. Immediately, it's opened by an excited-looking Robin.

" You made it! " She grins, pulling me into a tight hug. Her hair's grown slightly but she still looks the same as she did in high school. " We have so much to catch up on. I haven't seen you in forever. "

" Of course I made it, Rob. I wouldn't miss this for the world. " I smile at the girl.

She leads me into the apartment, loud voices immediately flooding my ears. " Make yourself at home. There's snacks and games in the living room. And Eddie brought beer. There's a few people I invited that you might not know. I hope that's okay. "

" That's alright. I don't mind. "

" Well well well, look what the cat dragged in. " Eddie's playfully acts annoyed. His hands are on his hips, a pout on his lips. His arms support multiple new tattoos, some of which look fresher than others. " I thought you died. "

I roll my eyes. " Still alive and kicking. I see you're still a drama queen. "

Eddie gasps. " Am not. "

" It's good to see you, Ed. " I grin while hugging the slightly older man. " How's the band? "

" Better than ever. " Eddie pulls out a folded sheet of paper from his black jeans. He opens it, revealing this band logo on the very top. " We're playing multiple venues now. And we've been asked to go meet with some exec hot shots for a record label. " His excitement is evident in his tone. " We fucking did it, Y/N. "

" I'm so proud of you! "

The doorbell rings and Robin jumps up from her spot on the couch to answer the door.

A few muffled voices make their way down the hallway as Robin brings the guests further into apartment.

" What about you? What've you been up too? Livin' good up in the big city? " Eddie asks. His arms are splayed out comfortably on the top of the sofa behind him. His legs are lazily crossed out in front of him, his posture very casual.

I don't get to respond. A voice behind me grabs my attention.

" Y/N? "

I know that voice.

Steve.

I turn my head to see the man I'd been hoping to avoid for days now.

Fuck.

Steve's eyes are wide in confusion. He looks slightly older but still just as attractive as he did all those years before. His hair is still styled the same, only slightly longer.

" Steve? " I mumble in surprise.

" You two know each other? " Robin asks, a smile on her face. She has no idea about us.

I nod stiffly. " We did a long time ago. "

A small movement behind Steve's shoulder grabs my attention. Nancy Wheeler peeks over his shoulder, curious to who I am.

" Oh my, Y/N? " Nancy smiles warmly.

Even better.

" Hey, Nancy. " I greet politely. Moments ago this apartment felt fun and casual. Now it feels absolutely suffocating.

I thought I was done with Steve. I threw his shit away. Why is this bugging me so much? He's a stranger now.

Then why does he feel so familiar?

The doorbell rings again and Eddie lets out a grown. " How many people did you fucking invite, Robin? At this rate the whole towns gonna be here. "

" Shut up. It's the pizza. I'll be right back. " Robin rolls her eyes before disappearing into the hall.

" Didn't you two used to date? " Eddie asks out of the blue, pointing to Steve and I.

" Uh, yeah. " Steve nods awkwardly.

Eddie looks between Nancy and Steve. " Shit, you two dated too! "

Ten points to fucking sherlock over here. Really solving all the worlds greatest mysteries.

" Man, that's awkward. "

" You think? " I glare over at him. Of course, he had to bring that shit up, didn't he.

The room grows quiet. Nancy and Steve sit side by side on the ground across from Eddie and I. A small brown coffee table separates us, thankfully putting some distance between everyone.

" Who fucking died in here? Why are you guys so quiet? " Robin asks while carrying the pizzas in. " This is supposed to be a game night, guys. Not a sit-awkwardly-on-the-floor-in-weird-silence-and-stare-at-the-floor night. " She places the pizzas on an empty area on the coffee table. " I'm gonna grab some plates and napkins. When I come back I want everyone talking. " She playfully orders.

" So..." Eddie drags out the word awkwardly. He reaches into his pants and pulls out a small baggie filled with long white rolls. " Anyone want some weed? "

" You're not smoking weed in my apartment Munson! " Robin shouts from the kitchen.

This is going to be a long night.

*******

" I'm gonna go get some air. " I take one last swig of my beer before standing up.

Who knew Eddie and Robin were so competitive when it came to twister?

They don't seem to hear me over their loud trash-talking. Robin cackles loudly as she manages to contort her body somehow to get her arm onto a green circle. " It's alright, old man. You can give up now. We all know you've got fragile bones. "

" Shut the fuck up. You're just salty I kicked your ass at uno. " Eddie's voice dies down as I make it outside.

Outside is cold and quiet but it's a nice change from the loud environment inside. It's pretty late. Everyone is tucked in their houses, away from the streets.

I'd spent the last two hours debating if I should go home. Every time I'm about to say I need to go, thoughts about how I wouldn't need to leave if I didn't still feel sad about Steve start to pop up.

" Can we talk? "

" What's there to talk about, Steve? You sent me a letter. I read it. We're fine. " I reply stiffly.

" You never replied. " Steve steps out further onto Robins' front porch. He leans against the railing a step's length away from me.

I don't bother to look at him. " I didn't feel like it. I'm not into the whole letter thing. You know that. "

I've never been a fan of writing letters. It feels less personal than talking to someone else in person or on the phone.

Steve lets out a small sigh. From the corner of my eye, I spot the steam of his breath from the cold pre-winter air. " I'm sorry. "

" You broke my heart, Steve. " Anger bubbles in my chest. " You fucking broke it. Why did it take you so long to write to me? Why didn't you try to call? " I look over at him.

" I didn't know where you lived. You moved across the country, how was I supposed to get in contact with you? " Steve asks, his eyes staring into mine.

" That's bullshit Steve and you know it. If you really fucking wanted to you would've tried to get ahold of me. I was still at home the entire summer after graduation. You could've asked my mom for my number or-fuck even my address. You had options and you chose not to do anything. How am I supposed to believe you? " I feel my face heat up from anger.

" Admit it, Steve. You sent me that fucking letter because you feel guilty. You're ashamed of yourself. You wanted to smooth things over, make yourself feel better. Well, I'm sorry, but I'm just not ready to pretend nothing ever happened yet. It wasn't just the fact that you broke up with me, Steve. We were friends. Best friends, at least I thought so. You just threw our friendship away. " I let out a bitter laugh. " And the ironic part was you were worried that you telling me how you felt would ruin our friendship. No, you did that when you let other people's opinions into our relationship. "

" I was a fucking coward, Y/N! What do you want me to say? " He asks desperately. " I lived off of the opinions of others and that ultimately cost me the best fucking thing that happened to me. " He grips the cold railing in front of us tightly. " I lost you because I was too scared to be myself and I will never forgive myself because of that. " He sighs. " I don't want you to forgive me, Y/N. I just want to know you're okay. "

" I'm not okay, Steve. I-I'm so conflicted. " I gesture to the man. " I still love you and I'm so fucking angry about it. I shouldn't still love you but I do. "

" I still love you to. " Steve replies honestly. " I haven't stopped thinking about you. I wonder what you're up to and who you've become all the time. "

I miss him too.

" What do we do? " I ask after a moment of silence.

Steve shrugs. He looks defeated. " I don't know. "

" Are you and Nancy dating again? " I ask quietly.

Steve shakes his head. " What? No. We're just friends. We haven't dated since the end of Senior Year. She's with Jonathan. "

We fall into another silence.

" I'm not ready to date you again. I don't know if I ever will be. " I begin.

Steve nods sadly. He shoves his hands in his pockets. " I completely understand. "

" But I'm willing to try to be friends again. Only friends. "

Steve's eyes light up. " Really? " A small smile of relief breaks onto his face. " Thank you, Y/N. Thank you so much. I promise this is going to better than last time. I'll treat you better than last time. "

" This doesn't mean your forgiven, it just means I'm willing to try. "

Steve nods. " I get that. I won't let you down. "

Is this stupid?

Probably.

Will I get my heart broken again? I don't know.

But we only live once and who knows where this could go. Maybe Steve has changed. Maybe he's a better man.

I guess we'll see.

Steve Harrington, please don't break my heart again. Please.

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog@queen-apple24

[edenalieth]

the cicada's song

Pairing: Jeongin x gn! reader

Genre: angst/horror

Warnings: violence, blood, demon odd spiritual sh!t, anxiety, death (yeehaw)

Words: 4.4K 

Hidden in the dense shadows of the trees, even more noises could be heard. Some cracks, some things falling on the ground, more insects. You tried to concentrate on your breathing, a chill going down your spine as you silently walked. Inspecting the ground, you could feel some light air telling you the exit was near by now. You raised your head, your eyes expecting to be met by Jeongin’s large shoulders. Nothing.

A.N: happy halloween everyone!! 👻 i've been wanting to write a story like that for a while now, idk if i managed to convey a stressful atmosphere in my writing but i hope you will like it. also the "kss" refers to the sound cicadas do. sorry for the eventual mistakes, enjoy!

« Ah I can’t stand this weather anymore » your friend complained, shaking his shirt in an attempt to catch the slightest breeze. He grimaced when his try ended up into an other failure. You could only relate to this statement. You had never been a real fan of summer. Everything was sticky and uncomfortable. You had to deal with the heat day and night, mosquitos and that annoying piercing buzz cicadas made all day long. « Ugh, should we go grab an ice cream at the convenience store ? » you offered. Jeongin immediately nodded. 

Calling this shop a convenience store was a bit of an exaggeration. It was owned by an old woman all the kids of the village considered as their grandma. It was far different from the ones you could find in Seoul, smaller, less choices. However, even if you were in your high school senior year now, you loved to stop by with your best friend to eat some sweets. As the black haired boy pushed the entry door, you were both welcomed by the jingling bells above it. The air was fresher inside thanks to the fan working full force in the corner. « Good afternoon Miss Choi! »

Looking over her glasses, trying to recognize who the new customers were, a smile illuminated her wrinkled face when she noticed who you were. « Oh! Jeongin! Y/N! How are you angels ? » she asked. « Actually craving an ice cream » you sighed. Miss Choi chuckled at your answer. « There’s no much left, the little monsters of primary school almost robbed everything ». You bent over the freezer, quickly followed by your friend. Only one sample of your favorite ice cream was sadly resting at the bottom. You glanced at each other and started to fiercely bump your shoulders to know who would win it. As usual, Jeongin was the victorious one. « Got it! » he claimed, a smug on his face. Rolling your eyes, you protested « That’s unfair! You know I have literally no strength ». 

« Not my problem », he replied with a mouth already full, « if you worked out a bit more maybe you would beat me ». He handed the money to the lady before leaving as you hastily bowed and followed him outside. Surprised by the sudden vivid light of the sun, you shielded your eyes to let them get accustomed to it. The heat seemed even worse. It felt like you were walking through fire, maybe the fact that you were upset didn’t help either. The boy was heading toward a bench near by, slightly sheltered by the shadow of the trees around. He put his bag to the side and sighed in relief. Pouting, you joined him. « What ? Come on ! There was also some cool drinks ! You just had to tell me if you wanted it that bad… » the end of his sentence was more of a grumble. You glared at him, he didn’t care, this is what eighteen years of friendship looked like. « If this damn place was bigger it would not have been a problem… » you seethed. 

Jeongin looked at you, knowing your aversion for this village. You liked the people who were living here but you hated everything else. The fields and mountains spreading as far as eyes can see, the forest you were so scared of, the lack of network and mostly, insects. 

Finishing his ice cream, he wiped off the sweat going down his neck and was playing with a rock, using the tip of his snickers. He always wore those ones. They were worn out but he loved them, especially because of the smiley you had drawn on it. « So… You’re truly going to Seoul University next year ? » he sounded resigned and somber, perfectly knowing your answer. You gazed at your best friend, your heart slightly breaking at his miserable state. « Yes. There’s no way I’m spending one more year in this rathole. And you’re going to Busan, so you can’t blame me. » He pouted. « You could have come to Busan too, it’s a great city and not too far to come visit our families. » 

The village was indeed an hour’s drive from Busan but all you wanted was to be as far as possible from here. « You could have come to Seoul too. » you retorted. 

Kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss.

You both glared at each other, cicadas loudly singing as if it was encouraging you to fight. You already had this conversation before and the outcome was never good. Obviously, you would miss Jeongin really bad. After all those years spending all your free time together, being at school together, having the same friends, same routine, it would feel kinda odd to meet new people. However, you needed that fresh air, you needed to discover new places and Busan was unfortunately too close from your hometown for you to get this detachment feeling. 

The air was getting thicker, just as the mood. Jeongin grabbed his bag and began to walk towards the road. « Are you coming or no ? » his dark foxy eyes reflecting his annoyance. You took your belonging and followed him without a word. The journey back to your homes felt ridiculously long. You saw some of your neighbors, greeted them, most of them coming back from work, some others bringing in the laundry as you could hear some thunder from afar. As you arrived closer to the edge of the wood, your stomach twisted. You did this every day and still apprehended it. The only reason you didn’t run was because your friend was here. He was always by your side since you were living fifteen minutes apart from each other. The rare times he wasn’t able to walk you home, you just sprinted until you were locked inside. Hidden in the dense shadows of the trees, even more noises could be heard. Some cracks, some things falling on the ground, more insects. You tried to concentrate on your breathing, a chill going down your spine as you silently walked. Inspecting the ground, you could feel some light air telling you the exit was near by now. You raised your head, your eyes expecting to be met by Jeongin’s large shoulders. Nothing. What the hell ? When did you pass him ? Maybe he was really angry and decided to walk faster without you noticing but that was not his type to do such a thing… Your palms were getting moist as you scanned the area, looking for your friend. Your throat was tight and aching. « Jeo-Jeongin ? Where are you ? ». A crack  resonated behind you. A sensation of déjà-vu was slowly creeping inside your brain. It was too familiar, like that time… « Jeongin ! ». Still no answer. Maybe he really left you behind. Your breath became jerky, your mind foggy. You couldn’t think straight. And that incessant noise, preventing you from hearing anything else. 

Kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss.

Suddenly, you felt something on the top of your head. With a trembling hand, you felt something soft yet stiff. You carefully grabbed it, when you recognized what it was you let out the scream you were holding back and rushed out of the forest. The relief you felt once outside was incredible. Soon, you could hear some footsteps, making you turn around quickly. Panting, a pretty amused Jeongin was there, hands on his knees and shaking of laughter. You frowned, slightly confused, before it hit you. « You asshole! You’re so fucking stupid, you know that ? » you fumed. Still trying to catch his breath in between two chuckle, he said « C-come on ! It was just a little prank. I wanted to lighten the mood ! You were so silent back there. » 

You scoffed « Can’t say you were the talkative type either. You know I hate those woods. And a cicada molt, really ?». Some tears were threatening to roll down your cheeks at any moment. His smile vanished as the tension grew back. « The real question is what you don’t hate Y/N ? » he talked back. « Get lost, Yang Jeongin. »

The black haired boy was about to answer when he saw your watery eyes as you kept going on your way. He didn’t mean to hurt you that much. You were his most precious friend. He wanted to stop you and apologize but his ego held him back. A thunder broke. It was close. Just as he thought that, raindrops started to fall. The noise had made you jump and you glanced back to see what was your friend doing, only to see him run down the road, covering his head with his bag. 

The storm was raging outside. The loud thunder was making the shutters shake, the rain hitting the ceiling tiles relentlessly making it impossible for you to sleep correctly. You took your phone, the screen lighting up and making your eyes squint. 4:44am. You had no news from your best friend. You sighed. Fine. You would sent him a message. 

you: hope you went home safely… the storm is crazy, right ?

You waited few minutes but it was silly to think he would answer at this hour. He was probably sleeping. You put your phone back on the nightstand and covered your ears with your pillow. Shortly, you fell into slumber. 

You were surrounded by trees. Trying to escape the place but it seemed impossible. You ran continuously until you fell something on your skin and stopped. Crawling on your arm, a cicada. Taken by a surge of disgust, you hastily got rid of it with your hand. However, an other one was already flying towards you, and an other, an other one, an other one. Endlessly. You could feel the small hooks of their legs clinging onto your epidermis. The loud buzz of their wings becoming deafening, covering your cries. Between the brown mess of insects, you distinguished a silhouette. Those eyes. You could recognized them amongst a thousand. You held your hand out for help. He shook his head from left to right, a cruel smile blooming on his lips. Then it was all dark and noisy. Kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss. 

You gasped, eyes wide open, facing the ceiling of your room. A hand on your chest, your heart beating at the speed of light. A nightmare. A terrible one. The back of your shirt was soaking wet. You checked the time. 10:24am and no answer from Jeongin. That was weird, he wasn’t resentful. You decided to take a shower and go meet him at his place. 

Thunder was gone but the rain kept going. At least, the air was fresher now and insects were silent. Thank god. After last night, you weren’t sure you would have been able to handle their song. As you walked, you saw a mass of people clumped on the path. Coming closer, you could see them actively removing dirt. 

« Oh! Please don’t come any closer. » a worker told you. « What happened ? » you asked. « A landslide because of the storm last night. It might still be dangerous so you will have to take an other road. » the man went back to digging when you noticed something else. There was several remains on the side, branches, rocks, some waste and a shoe. Jeongin’s shoe. Your heart stopped for a second. You had to calm down. If something had happened to your friend, rescuers and police would be there too. It was fine, he was fine. Not wasting another second, you rushed to his house taking the longer path. When you arrived, his little brother welcomed you and let you in. You knew this place by heart and directly went to Jeongin’s room. You knocked. 

« Hmm ? » Just hearing his voice was a relief. « It’s Y/N. » There was some fidgeting behind his door before he opened it. You jumped into his arms and hugged him tight. The boy didn’t move at first, surprised, and finally wrapped his arms around you. Detaching yourself from him, you checked if he was okay. He looked pale and tired but nothing seemed to be broken, just some scratches here and there. « I’m glad nothing happened to you ». He seemed confused, scratching his nape. « Why would something happen to me ? » he replied. « I saw the landslide and your shoe was there ! I thought something bad happened to you. How it ended up here ? ». His eyes widened. « Oh ! I slipped on my way home… You would have laughed a lot… My butt was covered in mud. » he said sheepishly. That was explaining the scratches and the dirt under his nails. « But how did you loose your damn shoe ? » You insisted. « It fell down the hill and the rain was pouring. I thought I would just get it back the next day… ». You shook your head, rolling your eyes, he could be so clumsy sometimes but he had chosen the safest option. « I would have been sad to loose my best friend because of a storm. » you chuckled. He smiled but his eyes seemed… distant. « You’re not sad to abandon me here though » he sarcastically answered. You sighed. « Jeongin. Can we just stop ? I don’t want to fight about this anymore. I promise I will come see you and you could come to Seoul too, okay ? ». You left your pinky to promise him. He looked at your finger, reluctant, and finally sealed the pact. His hand was cold. « Sure. »

You didn’t see each other much the next day, he preferred to stay inside since the summer heat was fully back with all its disadvantages after the storm episode. You tried to lure him with some ice creams, which actually worked. His scratches were fully healed but he still seemed tired and strangely had a lot of appetite. « Man, you’re eating a lot like… a lot. » you stated as he already had devoured his snack. « You think so ? I don’t know, maybe I’m still going through puberty. » he shrugged. « Should we go buy something else ? » he happily asked you. « If you’re getting sick it will be your fault. ». The black haired boy laughed and went back to Mrs’ Choi shop. Kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss.

Waiting for your friend, you looked at the woods below, suddenly remembering your nightmare. Just thinking about it gave you some cold sweat and you slightly jumped when you felt Jeongin’s hand on your shoulder. « Sorry, I called you but you weren’t answering. » he handed you an other ice cream, his eyes scanning you. « I was lost in thoughts » you evasively said. He kept staring at you for few seconds, his gaze looking a bit bleak and annoyed. You didn’t want to tell him about your dream, it was just a dream after all. The rest of the day went by, and then the others and so on. It had been three weeks since your little fight and things had gone back to normal, at least you tried to convince yourself. However, you felt some uneasiness when he was around you. He acted like before, being the joyful guy you always knew but some of his habits had changed. He used to never eat rare meat and now it was almost raw, he went to sleep excessively late, you found him aimlessly roaming around your neighborhood a lot of times. Also, you never thought you would say that, but his smile was odd. It used to be sparkling and warm, seeing him grin could cheer you up instantly. Nowadays, it felt cold, empty, fake… It seemed off. It wasn’t big changes but enough to make you wonder of what was possibly going on with him. The most disturbing thing was the fact that you caught him several times staring at your house, doing absolutely nothing. It scared you. You felt preyed on, trapped, watched. 

As usual, he walked you home and waved you goodbye as he was going back to his house. You smiled, still looking at him until he disappeared behind the trees. You were probably imagining things or overthinking about his acts. Maybe your last argument affected him more than you thought… However, you wanted to have a clear mind about it and know why he was acting weird. The next morning, when he asked you to hang out during the afternoon you lied to him. You told him you got sick during the night and had to stay at home. He gently mocked you for being the one getting sick but still wished you a good recovery, telling you he would bring some fruits. Yet, your plan was far different from staying at home. Jeongin and you had been sharing your locations on your phones since middle school. You couldn’t believe you were spying on him. During the whole morning, he didn’t move from his house and went out in the early afternoon. He passed in front of your house and stayed maybe a hundred meters away from it for several minutes, as he had been doing for a while now. You were tempted to look out of your window but you were scared he would see it. Waiting, you noticed that he started to move again towards the woods. When you considered that he was far enough for you to go out, you put your shoes on and started to follow his path. Checking your phone from time to time, you saw he was out of the forest and going downtown. When you arrived in front of the trees, you couldn’t bring yourself to go inside. The fresh air and all the noises coming out of it just incessantly reminding you of that day. You turned around and decided to hide around the spot he was a bit earlier. Minutes turned into an hour and your muscles were getting sore when he finally came back. You heard his footsteps and the friction of the plastic bag he was holding in a hand and something red on the other. You thought it might be an apple but its color was too dark and the juice running down his chin and hand wasn’t supposed to be red as well… He took a rough bite in it, bestially. It looked like a small animal… The sight of it had you gagging. What the fuck was that ? You couldn’t believe it was your best friend, it didn’t look like him. Something evil was emanating from his aura and the blood splattered on his face and hands was just confirming it. He was probably heading to your home now, you had to quickly go back or he would found out you lied to him. Still shaken by the weird sight you had just witnessed, your thoughts were fuzzing. Tapping the ground, searching for something to stand up, the loud crack brought you back to reality. You held back your breath, listening to your surroundings. Kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss. 

The footsteps stopped and you could only hear the cicada’s song. « You’re such a liar, Y/N ». Towering you, Jeongin hummed those words, a bloody smile adorning his face. It was the same cruel grin he had in your nightmare and all your senses were screaming you to run, which you did. Going to your house wasn’t an option since he would definitely catch you. Taking the long road was too isolated, you had to quickly go downtown and ask for help. But… Asking help for what ? He hadn’t done anything yet… Yet. You had to take the path through the woods, it was the fastest one. You ran through the trees, closely followed by the black haired boy. « Y/N, come back! » he screamed. Hell no. He needed to stay far away from you, it wasn’t your friend anymore. You felt the familiar air warning you that the exit was near by, when you felt a hand forcefully catching you. His strength was nothing like before and the shock made you fall on your knees. « I told you to come. » he snarled. « Please, Jeongin you’re hurting me. » you pleaded, trying to remove his fingers. « Am I ? » he stepped on your leg and ferociously pressed on it. You felt your bone breaking, drawing out a guttural scream from your throat. He placed his dirty hand on your mouth and you could smell the iron scent on it. You body was uncontrollably shaking from the pain, fear and sobs. « Shut up. » His face was so close to yours. You noticed that he was even paler, the blood on his skin making a big contrast. « I didn’t want to do that Y/N. I tried to be nice. Really. » he said, almost imploring you. « But you’re too nosy, I could tell you noticed that I’ve changed… » The pain was horrible. It was hard for you to keep consciousness. « The night we fought… I did slip but I fell down the hill because of the landslide and  got covered by the dirt and mud. I was dead, Y/N. Then, it came to me. That thing you were scared of. » The most human part of him still remembered the panic filling his veins when he got buried alive. How he desperately tried to dig his way out of this nightmare. Thinking he would never see the light again, nor his family or you. When it offered him to live, he didn’t hesitate. No matter what the price would be. Dizzy, you wondered what he was talking about and asked him. « I remember why you are so scared of those woods, you saw it. The demon living here. But it saved me, it’s a part of me, Y/N. » he seemed insane, his eyes widened and red. The sight of this scene was terrifying. You wanted to escape his grip but you were too weak and you wouldn’t be able to go far with a broken leg.

You needed a weapon, anything. However, he was right. You did see that thing more than ten years ago. Its odd, diaphanous and horrifying shape. You were a kid at that time and you were getting used to come back home by yourself. You got lost, insects and strange sounds scaring you, making you cry. When it appeared few meters away from you with its twisted dreadful figure, you prayed for something or someone to save you. As if they heard you, the foxy boy and his parents arrived. Since then, you never stopped to feel its presence. And now, it was controlling your best friend ? It had to be another nightmare… Tears started to roll down your cheeks. « Please… Jeongin… Let me go. » you begged. « I can’t do that. You know our secret now. You have to stay with us, you will be safe. » his body was lightly shaken by spasms. Finally, finding what you were looking for, you grabbed a stone and hit him in the head. He seemed stunned for a minute, his grip being weaker. He ferociously glared at you, more blood covering his face. He straddled you, blocking your arms. « You wanted to leave this place, leave me. » he accused. He would never forget the day you told him you would go to Seoul. It wasn’t what he had in mind. He didn’t want to be far away from you, he didn’t know how to be happy without you. His feelings were stronger and clearer than ever. Was it his true feelings or the entity’s ones, though ? « No, no, no… not you, Jeongin » Your sobs made it hard for you to talk, black dots appearing in front of your sight as the pain was getting more and more intense. Your head was buzzing, the sounds of the cicadas surrounding you becoming deafening. « I can’t trust you anymore, but you’ve always been precious to me… I’ve loved you and still love you so much Y/N… that’s why you have to stay with me forever. » Your friend was long gone. You cried at the idea that you would never be able to enjoy the simple things of life with him anymore. You wish you could turn back time, save him…

Plunging towards your throat, the last thing you saw was his dislocated jaw and eyes rolling into the back of his head.

Kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss kss. 

[captainqster]

Dawntrail thoughts below. Major spoilers of course

I'll start off by saying that I enjoyed it. Some of the cutscenes were so fun and DT managed to make me cry at the end. The most important thing for me is that the story have an emotional impact on me and this one did. Not as much as SHB or even EW, but that's to be expected given they were the final two expansions in an ongoing story.

ANYWAY I don't intend to rant too much so I'll just make some key points about what I remember (which is never much, I have a terrible memory).

The environments! I'm not one to veer off course during msq to explore the scenery but this time I was doing that constantly. I was in HEAVEN in the desert areas especially, as I live in the Sonoran desert but Thanalan and Ahm Araeng never did much for me. Urqopacha was just beautiful, I could afk there all day. Solution 9 is even more incredible than I'd dared to hope. And Tuliyollal...my goodness.

The worldbuilding. I enjoyed the time spent fleshing out these cultures and the 'why and when' of some of their traditions. Cooking the...what was it called...was fun, I come from a Hispanic family and cooking massive batches of food together was always a big part of get togethers, especially around the holidays (I am made to suffer the tamale assembly line every year). So I liked when you were made to understand the people and why they do what they do and the impact it has on their community bonds.

The duties. Really liked those as well. Can I remember anything? No. Do I have a lingering feeling of "that was new" leftover? Yes.

The NPCs. New cast! Somehow I didn't anticipate the turnaround of both Zoraal Ja and Bakool Ja Ja, but I love a reformed cartoon bully and a Golden Child who crumples under the weight of expectation. Koana is incredible, I was iffy about him at first but you could hear the desperation in his voice when Wuk Lamat was kidnapped (fantastic job by the voice actor, sincerely) and from there I just continued to love him more.

For Wuk Lamat specifically she really grated on my nerves for the first few levels. I know the intention of her archetype/character growth, but it felt like some of her frequent complaining was played for comedy and it just fell flat for me. But the moment she said "hey I'm gonna turn around and be better" she really did do that. Asking to hold the WOL's hand and her little "um...do you want to explore with me?" AND WANTING THE WOL TO STAY IN TULIYOLLAL WITH HER god those just hit me right in the heart. She grew on me.

The final zone. I cried. I've seen some complaints about whiplash with the direction DT took from the first to second half, and I kind of get that, but for me it kept things a little fresher. I would have liked to see more payoff in Tural after all the time and energy you spent learning about the different cultures but it is what it is.

I love that SE decided that once you shut down a terminal you will lose the beauty of that area. It really made me hesitate and want to look around more, which just drove home the point of saying goodbye to the Endless. I was teary-eyed leading up to Cahciua's terminal especially. IDK I love my mom and it HURT SO BAD.

The cutscenes: Some of them were such a delight that I was in tears. I don't care if people found it cheesy, I LOVED the train bomb. At first I was disappointed that it wasn't going to be an interactive duty but watching G'raha Tia pull Alisaie back onto the platform just for the WOL to save them both? Jumping off the train? Everything my southwestern heart could want.

And the cowboys. The duels. The accents. I was in love.

Last thing I'll say is I've seen a lot of "do you need to be the hero?" questions/polls/etc. For me it's not about whether you're the hero, I just need to have that rapport with the NPCs and to feel present. So I appreciated the few times we got a bit of that.

Anyway I'm not gonna say anything negative because I just don't feel like it. There were a few things I would have liked to see done better, differently, whatever, but I'm satisfied enough. I'm really looking forward to what comes in the patches.

[hrtiu]

omg happy birthday!🥳 I hope you're having an amazing day with lots of sunshine, tasty food and happiness.

If you're feeling inspired can you write some domestic bliss with foxiyo? I'm thinking maybe when they're both old(er?) since that's something rarely explored (at least as far as I've seen). Idk I just think they'd be that cute elderly couple yk 😭

Thanks for the prompt and the birthday wishes! Sorry I wasn't able to finish it right away, but hey. I haven't written any fic in months so this is still pretty good for me??

I haven't really edited this so... hopefully it's ok???

Riyo Chuchi could not sleep.

She stared up at the dim, roughly-textured ceiling and blew out a breath. There was a time when she’d work herself so hard every day that she could barely keep her eyes open long enough to fall into bed rather than on the floor. And now she regularly found herself waking up in the wee hours of the morning, her body tired and aching but her mind stubbornly and insistently awake.

She rolled over onto her side and sighed. No, this position wasn’t any better. She felt no less restless, no less stretched thin by unwilling wakefulness. Across the bed from her, Fox’s broad back slowly expanded with a deep inhale. Riyo smiled to herself. At least the view was better on her side.

After another half hour of staring at Fox’s back, Riyo admitted defeat and got out of bed. She went to the ‘fresher, brushed her teeth, and combed her snow-white hair. The texture of her hair was wiry and tough--both its color and texture a far cry from the famously-luscious lavender locks of her youth. Then she went to her terminal and checked her messages. 

A few updates from Ahsoka, a brief, businesslike note from Mom Mothma, and a bunch of adverts. Great. Riyo wondered how she hadn’t appreciated the days when her terminal was stuffed to bursting with urgent messages--full of people wanting her assistance, her opinion, her time. It had been overwhelming, yes. But at least she’d felt needed.

She spent a while--much longer than necessary--answering her messages. Then she checked the news and let her eyes glaze over as the goings-on of distant planets filled the terminal. Several hours passed this way, and the sun finally began to peak through the closed shades of her study.

“Been up long?” Fox’s gravelly voice broke through Riyo’s near trance.

She looked up at him and smiled wryly. “A little while,” she said, knowing he would catch her understatement.

He crossed the room to her, his stiff leg traveling just a little slower than the other. He rested his hand on her shoulder, and she couldn’t help but notice the slight tremble to his once-firm grip.

“I’m sorry, my sun,” he said. “The meds aren’t helping?”

“They help me fall asleep, but I just can’t stay asleep for long,” Riyo said with a shrug. “I could take more, but I don’t want to overdo it.”

“That’s probably wise. You should wake me up next time. I’d be happy to keep you company.”

“At least one of us should be getting rest,” Riyo protested.

Fox let out a noncommittal sound and lowered himself into the chair next to her. 

Riyo rested her head on his shoulder, her whole body relaxing at the familiar contact. As her muscles melted into him, he still felt stiff beneath her. He hid it well, but she knew how uncomfortable the stiffness that held every joint in his body tight must be. He had once been a super soldier, a man in peak physical condition. If she was missing the way she used to feel, how hard must it be for him?

She peaked up at him through her lashes, his silvery stubble and strong nose still so attractive to her, after all these years. 

“How are you doing, love?” she asked. “I know you must be having trouble, too.”

Fox shook his head. “No, not at all.”

Riyo couldn’t hold back her snort. “I was at your last doctor’s appointment. I know your condition is progressing. But you never complain!” She sat up, turning in chair to face him fully. “You know you can always tell me how you feel, right?”

“Of course,” Fox said, taking her hands in his. “And you are right. I wake up in pain every day. It’s getting more difficult to walk. And I’m frustrated that I can’t trust myself with a blaster anymore.”

It was what she’d asked for, but still Riyo’s heart constricted in her chest. Fox was in pain, and she knew he wouldn’t even acknowledge any pain if it wasn’t significant. She squeezed his hands. “Fox…”

“But I’m happy, Riyo,” Fox cut in, firm and confident. “The pain is a nuisance, but it doesn’t bother me that much. I hardly even think of it.”

“How can you not think of it? It affects every step you take. It keeps you from doing so many things you love-”

“I don’t think of it, because I am happy.”

Riyo shook her head, feeling that she was still missing something. “I just don’t understand. Here I am, every day complaining and pitying myself for all the most common, least inconvenient inevitabilities of aging. But there you are, happy and unbothered while you deal with this diagnosis. Either something is wrong with you, or something is wrong with me.”

“Nothing is wrong with you. This diagnosis isn’t easy for me, but it is so much more than anything I ever expected.”

Any words Riyo could think to respond with died in her throat. What could she say to that? Especially when she knew what he said was true?

Fox stood up, moving slowly but with purpose. He held a hand down to her and she took it, rising to her feet at his side. 

One hand still holding hers, Fox stroked his fingers down a wisp of white hair that had escaped Riyo’s utilitarian bun. “Do you know how lucky I feel to be able to grow old with you? I never expected to grow old. Period. And now I get to experience it with the woman I care most for in the entire galaxy? Every grey hair. every aching joint, every hand tremor--every one is a privilege.”

A tear slipped down Riyo’s cheek, and she pressed her forehead to his. Her body still felt heavy and tired, and she still mourned for her youth long gone. But some of the weight of sorrow lifted from her shoulders.

“The privilege is all mine,” she said, meaning it with every ounce of her being.

[masked-ragdoll]

Idk if your still doing thoes funky lil sketches lol but you should do (If possible) the scene where GL. Ranboo gets his head crushed and charlie and sneegs reaction *if they were still alive and went to find him* Just a thing! You dont have too:)

i was going to draw but i instantly got a little writing idea in my head so heres a mini fic

Sneeg snapped awake. He gasped for air and felt his chest throb in pain. He raised his hand to his chest and it came away with sticky blood. Oh right, that creepy wire monster had attacked him. How long had he been out? How was he even still alive?

He groaned as he sat up, leaning on his arm to keep himself upright. It seemed like his wounds had stopped bleeding a while ago. He looked around and saw that he was in a dark corner of a room. There was a table next to him and he used it to pull himself off the floor. There was a noise next to him and he looked over the table to see Charlie on the floor, chest also torn to bloody shreds. Sneeg limped around the table quickly and fell to his knees beside him.

"Charlie! Oh my God-" Sneeg felt the wounds. They were a lot fresher, but the bleeding had also stopped. Thankfully the vest Charlie was wearing managed to take most of the damage. He sighed in relief when he felt Charlie's chest rise and fall steadily. As if he was sensing his presence, Charlie's eyes fluttered open.

"Sneeg?" He gasped.

"Take it easy Charlie."

"How-" Charlie winced. "How are we still alive? That monster-"

"I don't know. Do you know if Ranboo got out?"

"I saw him get to the button just before I blacked out. I think- God I hope he escaped." Sneeg nodded.

Sneeg stood up with a groan and offered a hand. "Come on, we should get out of here too."

Charlie took his hand and after a little bit of struggling, he got up too. They leaned on each other as they made their way around the dark room. There was light coming through a nearby doorway, so they headed towards it. They walked through and gasped in terror.

In front of them was a wall covered in tvs and wires- and in the middle was their friend, Ranboo. He stood there, wires cutting through his hands and a black box around his head. There was blood all over his shoulders and down his chest. Charlie stifled a cry and Sneeg brought his hand to his mouth.

Charlie stumbled forward and gripped the box. He felt along the front face and found the break. He dug his fingers into the small gap and pulled. Sneeg came up to his side and pulled the wires out of Ranboo's hands. He didn't even twitch and Sneeg's anxiety spiked.

Charlie grunted as he shoved the halves of the box apart to reveal-

"No!" Charlie and Sneeg yelped in unison.

There were spikes on the insides of the box that had penetrated into different parts of Ranboo's poor bloody head. Charlie carefully cradled Ranboo's head in his hands as tears fell down his cheeks. Sneeg put a hand on his shoulder as his shoulders shook in silent sobs.

The spikes had managed to avoid his left eye by an inch. His mask had a bunch of holes and scrapes all over it which surprised Sneeg, considering how hard the material was. He shivered at the thought of how sharp the spikes must be. He carefully avoided them as he pulled Ranboo's limp body from the box with the help of Charlie.

They laid him on the floor a little ways away from the box and sneeg took off his hoodie. He gently used it to clean the blood from Ranboo's face and neck and Charlie had to look away as fresh muscle and even bone became exposed.

It was an awful sight. There was no telling how much that hurt. As he wiped away the blood from his left eye he noticed how his eye was puffy from crying. He had been crying in his last moments. Sneeg finished what he could and say down next to the younger one. Charlie kneeled next to him and grabbed his cold hand. He opened his mouth to say something but the only thing that came out was a sob. Sneeg couldn't contain his grief any longer at the sight and hid his face in his hands.

If only they were faster...

[south-park-meta]

I think I agree with it as a character regression actually.

It feels like ever since the Post Covid there’s been this like… Undoing of a lot of the character development the kids have had. And I kind of get why they’ve done it- characters like Stan and Kyle for example felt like they’d been written into a miserable wall where it was hard to approach them in new ways. And like, this was because they had built on and on with this rising action of character development for them and then just… Sort of gave up on it? And we got Post Covid to “resolve it”, and dgmw I love Post Covid but it hardly was enough to meaningfully fix the damage between Stan and Kyle’s relationship the last ten seasons or so, or their own issues that have just built on to be worse and worse and weigh on them more and more heavily.

And so like. Idk where I’m going with this. I get why they reversed it to bring the show back to feeling fresher and more like a bunch of kids going through crazy little adventures rather than the depressing reality they’d written them into. Like, I don’t hate seeing them act more naive and innocent and happy as opposed to the broken messes they’d both became (and other characters as well, though I do feel like it’s just so especially prominent with Stan and Kyle specifically) but it’s kind of frustrating at times? To see them relearn things or to have never gotten any real conclusion or closure on where their characters had been going for a long time? I’d loved to have gotten a real resolution to any of that but. Idk.

Idk if this exactly matches your perspective on this, but idk, I’ve definitely felt similar to your thoughts here! Sorry to ramble about it in ur ask box lmao

Yeah I think it comes down to Post Covid, too. They've hand waved a lot of Stan and Kyle's issues which is like fine, I guess. Like, whatever, they've never been great at discussing their problems so there's arguably been improvement by Stan admitting jealousy outright recently... though Stan's also been VERY consistent in having emotions build, dumping them out when they're too much to handle, and then not really doing anything more with them lol which...is the same thing that happened with regards to being jealous over Kyle and Tolkien.

Whatever though, I guess.

Stan in particular I feel is The Problem with the show growing. He actually HAS to be regressed quite a bit to reset the show the way they want to. This isn't something that's really true for the other boys because the catalyst to their friendship breaking apart...was Stan. Of course there were fissures, there were REASONS, but those things are irrelevant. The other kids, on a whole, were fine with the status quo. If their friendship ultimately completely broke apart into smithereens based on the Pre-Post Covid episodes, it is CLEAR that Stan is the one who's going to end it. No matter how the other kids feel or don't feel, it's Stan who's pulling the plug.

How do you keep going forward with the main character who's willing to end ALL of his meaningful relationships when you don't want to do anything but band-aid fix the problems that he's had? South Park has a major story problem and it is, primarily, there is no REAL new reason for Stan to stay friends with people he thought 'didn't like each other'. The narrative problem is Stan. Fixing the narrative problem means dialing back Stan's relationship growth, it means tamping down the depression they've been building (even in terms of situational depression regarding Tegridy this has been dialed WAAAAY way back).

Stan IS the problem with fixing things.

Unfortunately putting him in a place where things can be magically fixed also means completely jacking up his growth pretty much from around season 15/YGO.

[i-willstealyourtoes]

BACK AGAIN BESTI-

no fr tho this ones just Dallas, but uhhh if your ok with it can I gets Dallas with a silly, immature, younger reader, like not teenager younger, but like 29-30 year old younger so not exactly creepy, but probably not conventional, cuz like uuuhhhh I like older men

Feel free to ignore this one. Tho, hopefully this will be my last one for a bit to give you a break ^_^

Bestie no pls don't be shy- Like if u have an idea u can send it !!!

Dallas with younger/silly s/o

- Okay I feel like Dallas already considers himself young at heart???

- (He does make old people jokes like 'I'm getting too old for this' tho)

- He doesn't really feel as awkward about it as some people

- Though when he started feeling stuff for you he did feel a little self-conscious about it

- He didn't know how you felt about it bc what if you thought of him like... too old

- But when you reciprocated the fears definitely disappeared

- He really likes your youthful look on the world bc he relates sometimes? And plus he likes having another person's view to hear about anyway so (leader moment)

- I mean sometimes he does have those slightly insecure moments

- Like 'why would u like me lmao' kind of thing

- He asks this frequently in the start of the relationship specifically

- Like when you two are alone and snuggling hehe

- 'Why'd you choose me, huh? I'm... old.'

- He's not even that old, nor is the age difference that bad

- It's only like... max 10 years + you guys are both consulting adults

- 'Babe, you're not even that old-'

- 'I know, I know. But still. I know I'm hot, but damn. How'd I get with a person like you?' (/pos)

- He's just a silly little guy ok

- An old silly little guy

- He's probably more confident about it than other people, but yk... it does cross his mind

- If anyone makes fun of him/you about it, my guys confidence does not falter

- 'Isn't he old enough to be your dad?' (said the dumb little dumb dumb)

- If you don't speak up, he probably would

- 'Hey, why don't you mind your own goddamn business? Leave me and my partner alone or you'll fuckin' regret it.'

- Thank you cool guy Nathan Steele that's very nice and brave of you

- I feel like he definitely treats you the same as if you weren't younger?

- OH I FORGOR YOU SAID YOU WERE SILLY AS WELL MB MOVIN ON 💀

- Okay so you and your goofy clown ahh are definitely different from him

- Like not in a bad way, just you have different senses of humour sometimes

- Like if you show him like... memes, like the cursed ones

- He probably won't understand

- 'Hehehehe babe look.' (you point at a video of a fish spinning to funky town)

- '....What. What am I looking at? Why are you watching a spinning fish? How- WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING-' (he's not actually shouting, he's just raised his voice)

- I think he kind of likes how silly you are, bc it sort of... keeps him young???

- As for you being immature... it depends?

- If you just have a younger and fresher look on society and stuff, he likes that bc again, second and new opinion is good

- But if you mean like... rlly childish??? Like kind of bratty? Idk if he'd like that I'm ngl

- I assume you just mean you have just a different vibe bc you were born in a different generation, he's perfectly fine with that dw

- Overall, he still likes you as much as he would if you were the same age

- He likes your more youthful view on the world, as well as your silly/energetic personality

- He definitely sometimes doesn't get some of your jokes/sense of humour + he does occasionally feel a little self-conscious about it, but he still loves you vv much

I hope this enough for u!! Feel free to send another request, even if its just of the same prompt idm !!

[paleclementine]

I've gone too long without writing about my life. I just started reading the archive of Pete Wentz's LiveJournal entries, and they're so funny and just... enlightening about how human he really is. Yeah, Fall Out Boy is a band, but it consists of people who fuck around and have fun and are human. I forget that sometimes. I really want to be a famous author one day, so this is sort of created in the hopes that if that ever happens, people can read this and know that I'm just a person.

I have another account on here too. Good luck finding it, lol. the username has to do with melodies and messes.

I spent the summer at home. There's so much to talk about there, but I'll make an entry about it when I have the time and energy. To sum it up, it was mostly miserable and it felt like wading in tepid water for four months. My hair was also red/ginger. It's brown ginger now, but it's always been blonde (other than the times when I dye it pink or green or purple).

I'm in Utah now. I finally have roommates that I like and ones that actually (and you're never going to believe this)-- talk to me! wow. They're nice enough, but our personalities just don't work. they're ALL extroverts. They are also super prone to cliqueing. They never text me and ask me to hang out with them. I don't even think it's because they don't like me; it's simply that if you're out of sight, you're out of mind. You have to be there to be included. Idk. It's honestly a little disheartening; if you have to constantly be around them like a lost puppy in order to be their friend, i don't know if it's worth the effort. My most important hobby pretty much requires me to sit in a quiet, peaceful setting with my headphones on with LOTS of time to just.. think. ugh. It's hard.

Emily is coming to visit this week. We're going to cosplay as Asuka (me) and Rei (her) as well as madoka (me) and Homura (her). Me and Anthony are going to be Dazai (him) and Chuuya (me). It's going to be so fun. I can't wait to see what Emily thinks of Utah. It's a weird place, but I've grown accustomed to it... sort of. I want to know what it's like here with a fresher lense.

My laptop is about to die-- til next time.

[mejomonster]

Alone in the Dark 2024? Solid. I finished Emily's playthrough, starting Carnby's. Thoughts so far: solid story on Emily's side, both usual enough to get used to and unique enough to feel refreshing (like the first time I played a lot of my fave horror games) and the solid clear story and mystery is interesting and a nice balance of clear to understand but still mysterious at first. It'd be a good game to play with a friend. I like good characters and character focused story and Emily's was definitely that, memorable little cast at Dercerto and Emily's story is easy to connect to and care about while still feeling like youre investigsting to get a little Less scared. The very end of Emily's story was quite scary to me (so i guess fitting for a horror game) because i think lobotomies are terrifying as all fuck horrific procedures from the past (this game being set in the earlier 1900s really jumps out when hearing the doctor's medical ideas), and im always reminded of Stephen Kings Kingdom Hospital and the lobotomies in that... and just the medical horror of it all which is something i cant handle in much quantity. I mean yeah it makes the game scarier, and thankrully its just maybe 1 hour or less of medical related horror. But its there as an fyi.

Overall it was nice to have a game that let you go to french quarter, a temple, a sinking steamboat, an oil rig, a cemetary, a world war 1 trench, and an old house. The visuals of the game (with greens and sunlight as much as darkness and blues) felt really nice, and the way the setting switched kept it feeling a bit fresher like other games that have various levels (sort of like how say you play an old Tomb Raider and go to various different places, or an old ratchet and clank, sorry i cant think of modern games that do this but im sure plenty do - its basically just nice varying of locations and design so you get variety and feel you're exploring). This game is making me crave another horror game with a GOOD solid story... so now im considering maybe The Medium? Idk its hard to guess if a horror game will have a decent plot based on game store summary...

I just started Carnby's playthrough and id say one possible downside: the puzzles are mostly the same. Which could be a good thing if you dont want to figure out how to solve them again. Some other stuff changes like the scenes, how Carnby interacts with everyone. But the puzzles are pretty much the same. So id say either take a break between playthroughs if say you felt like replaying in a few months just pick the other character THEN. Or if youre playing them back to back, you can expect to speed through the puzzles on the second character you play and just find lore items and see the new scenes.

[palpipeen]

One Year, Eight Weeks, Two Days: Days -1 through -6

They didn't wake up in prison, only somewhere they've never been before, and they also don't remember the names of their family or the planet they're from. But lucky for them, some generous benefactor left holo-recordings for them to watch when they woke up. So, all things considered. Waking up in a room they’d never been in their entire life could have gone a lot worse! Rating: R for Language, Canon-Typical Violence Future Ratings: NC-17 for Sexual Themes Warnings: Amnesia, non-descriptive vomiting, mention of top-surgery scars, mentions of slavery, implied kidnapping, smoking, mild-gaslighting, mentions of gang fights, corrupt police (DM me if I missed anything, this is a long one) This is an OC centric fic where the MC is AFAB Non-Binary and goes by They/Them pronouns WC: 3937 AN: Alright, here it is: my baby. Well one of my babies. These two OCs are actually a handful from an original universe high-fantasy story I was working on a few years back, that I'm still working on, but this came to me in a dream and I was like "...hey that's really good actually." Eventually the original fic will be finished, idk what I'll do with it or this story, but here - have it. This fic is ENTIRELY OC centric, it is set during the events of The Mandalorian. The Mandalorian featured in this is not Din - he's his own guy. Anyway - hope y'all enjoy!

Waking up disoriented and confused about what time of day, or what day, or even what week it was seemed pretty commonplace for them. But they didn’t remember their decor ever being quite this…gray. Though the bed was pretty comfortable. Comfortable enough that they phased in and out of sleep when they initially took note of their surroundings. For another two to six hours. It was comfortable, and warm, and no one was waking them up.

It was the first decent amount of sleep they could remember having in…well, ever.

Right up until they felt a jolt of - something. This jolt made them sit bolt upright, the vestiges of panic just barely releasing its sickening grasp on their throat. Struggling with the covers tangled around their legs, they barely managed to stumble out of bed without falling flat on their face. Then rushed to the fresher. Just in time to empty the contents of their stomach and make it all into the bowl. And when they looked up in the mirror, Rigby O’Faolin recognized themself.

So, all things considered. Waking up in a room they’d never been in their entire life could have gone a lot worse!

At least, that’s what they told themself over the course of the next week. Often. As often as they could without feeling like they were going to lose their absolute shit. Which was a lot, multiple times, each day. It really was the only thing that kept them sane, all things considered. Mostly sane, anyway. But could anybody blame them?

With little to no recollection of their life before waking up in a stranger’s room, the finer threads of sanity would fray fairly quickly.

No, really. Rigby knew themself, their name, flashes of the planet they were from. Not enough to know the name, but enough to remember a house big enough for the family, all six of them, and a few masiffs. They could remember everyone’s favorite colors, most of their birthdays. Well, their dad had never been big on his own, neither had their youngest sister. They also remembered that every summer, the family would spend a week at a lake.

But no names, for the planet or for their faceless family members that lived there. And no real desire to go back home. Maybe that’s why they’d never felt any pressure to try and get help right away. There wasn’t a sense of urgency, or any guilt over knowing that it was very likely their family didn’t know where they were. Rigby at least could remember that they came and went from the family home, that they were old enough that their parents didn’t question it. They were also old enough to have their own family, but they hadn’t gotten around to it. Nor did they particularly want to.

In Rigby’s own mind, that had become an impossible pipe dream once they’d gone through top surgery.

Oh there was also that. A discovery that was equal parts thrilling and jarring, to say the least, when they’d done that first check the morning they woke up. They couldn’t remember when it had happened. Only they’d saved up for years for it. And it had apparently been long enough that the scars didn’t bother them. They also couldn’t remember when they’d gone through with the piercings, but they were glad they hadn’t lost those - or their nipples - during the process. 

Which in hindsight was maybe a weird thing to get hung up about.

So, even if they couldn’t remember the name of their planet, or the circumstances of how they’d ended up in this room, they could remember enough. What a damn shame it was that most of what they remembered made certain that most of their insecurities were intact. Such as the panic of not having anything that belonged to them in this room - nothing to bring them any semblance of comfort. Or the nagging fear of stepping outside and being berated for it. Plus there was the void where about eighty percent of their memories needed to be. Not to mention the imposter syndrome being ramped up to a mind boggling degree. Because this apartment was definitely not theirs. 

It was Teb’s.

Who the hell was Teb? They had no idea. Even with their hazy memory, Rigby knew with certainty they’d never met the man in their entire life. But damn, did this guy need to do some serious reorganization. That was the first thought they’d had when they started poking around that first day, and found an old holo-letter with his name on it. Given the strangeness of their situation, it was surprising they were able to get up and look around with their hands and feet free. One of the first things they’d checked after that revelation was if they had anything around their neck - no dice.

Thank gods. Rigby couldn’t remember ever having thought they would be sold into slavery, but stranger things were apparently happening.

But this Teb guy - he’d apparently been anticipating it. This…strangeness. After moving things around - piles of things, it was all just so much fucking junk - they’d found a few holo recordings. Almost entirely by accident. With added the misfortune that most of them were busted to the point none of it was intelligible. But there were a few that gave them some context clues.

Some very, very confusing context clues.

“If you’re seeing this, my plan has worked.” 

With a yelp, they’d fallen flat on their ass after touching the holo-display under about a dozen pairs of one-size-too-small pants. Rigby stared at the grainy, jumping projection of a man’s torso, eyes bulging and jaw hanging open and with their heart in the back of their throat. The projection of the man didn’t look like anyone they could remember - but they got the distinct impression he’d lived one hell of a life, and still had a lot of life to live. Deep circles under his eyes, with softness around the edges that belied some youth. And he seemed so calm, like he’d been expecting this.

So clearly he’d been expecting someone to be here when he’d ditched the place. Maybe not Rigby, but somebody. Whatever the reason, Rigby had watched the shitty pre-recorded message often. Enough times that months after the last time they’d watched it, they could remember it word-for-word. They’d memorized every syllable, his accent, all of it. Down to his micro-expressions.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here. It’ll all make sense in time.” 

The man adjusted his glasses on his nose. That first time they’d watched it, Rigby snorted, folding their arms across their chest as they waited for Teb to make it make sense. 

He didn’t. 

“Just know that for now, this apartment is paid for until the end of the next standard year. I know it isn’t the most ideal situation or place to be in. Mahak Space Station is a shithole.”

That was news to them. And the first time they’d heard where, exactly, it was they even fucking were.

It didn’t ring any bells.

“In a compartment at the foot of the bunk is a cache of credits.” Rigby glanced at the compartment they’d just raided half an hour ago in question, dubiously glancing back at Teb’s projection. “Use it to keep yourself fed and out of trouble. Don’t worry about anyone coming by to turn you out. Stay in the room and order whatever it is you need. Don’t leave the room. Don’t talk to anyone. The less anyone on this station knows about you, the better. No one will ever find me. I might as well be a ghost. Maybe we’ll meet in another life. Until then - Teb, out.”

For days, weeks, months after discovering the messages, Rigby would obsess over every little detail they could glean from the recordings of ‘Teb.’ And over time they’d decided one thing.

That absolutely none of it made sense and all Teb had made clear was he liked being a vague, cryptic motherfucker. Who in the hells just happened to have some kind of recording poorly hidden under a pile of dirty clothes? Who was kind enough to just let a squatter take up residence in their apartment? They didn’t get it. 

And they certainly weren’t going to wait around to find out if what Teb was saying was true or not. If that was his real name. Regardless of how little they knew about their life, Rigby wasn’t the type to just languish around feeling sorry for themself. Most of the time. And even if they had no recollection of anything actually helpful, Rigby knew they hadn’t been born yesterday. 

Some strange benefactor had the foresight to pay the apartment forward, leave behind holo-messages, and explained exactly nothing about the situation Rigby found themself in? And expected them to stay cooped up with no one but themself and the holonet (which only turned on after they’d tried watching all of the recordings) for company? 

Yeah right. Needless to say, a week into trying to figure things out, Rigby decided they’d had enough. Maybe they’d get yelled at for leaving their room. Maybe they would actually find some of their things outside this room. And maybe, by some fucking miracle, they would remember things again, other than a name and a few faces and a lake. Regardless. Thanks mostly entirely to their stir craziness, they finally ventured outside of their room.

Only to nearly trip over a droid.

The droid that had apparently been waiting outside the door, for gods knew how long. She was a strange looking piece of machinery, but a droid nonetheless. Watching her gather her balance under long, multi-jointed, angular legs after nearly stepping on her was an interesting spectacle. The huge, semi-conical ocular apparatus at the top of its body was almost shaped like a beak, and the exposed wires and antennae on the back of her head lifted and fanned out in a way that seemed more at home on a bird. 

The moment Rigby had tripped over the droid, or corrected their fall and then fallen flat on their ass to avoid landing on the droid, they heard laughter. And coughing. With a groan, Rigby had pushed themself up until they were partially upright, and looked for the source of the sound. What they noticed first was how drab the very long hallway they found themself in was. The vague smell of cig smoke, mildew and cooking oil permeated the filtered, recycled air here. Rigby got the impression it was just always like that. And there were doors - lots of them - with faded numbers printed on the wall panels just to the sides.

“Geeze, kid.” 

The rough, smoky voice drew Rigby’s attention to the source of the laughter. From a few doors down, a middle-aged Twi'lek woman meandered slowly their way. She was the only colorful thing in this hallway, down to her clothes. Bright orange skin with her lekku wrapped twice around her neck with one dangling between her shoulder blades. Crouching down next to Rigby, she spoke over the droid screeching in indignant binary. 

“You look like you just crawled out of a pile of bantha shit. You just move in?” Rigby flinched when the droid used the massive ocular apparatus to actually peck at their leg. The Twi’lek took a drag off the cig she’d been nursing and aimed the smoke away from Rigby’s head. “And is that angry thing yours?”

“Yes.” Wait. Really?! Rigby didn’t recall buying a droid. Even as the droid in question shrieked out another few curses in binary, intensely enough to make her speakers pop with feedback, Rigby felt like they knew this droid. Maybe not own, but they certainly knew her. “She’s NG-1T - Nugget.” The droid’s head snapped round to stare at them, wires quivering. “Stop scaring the neighbors.”

Of course, the droid did the exact opposite of this. Shaking her strangely shaped head, she shrilled in furious binary. Loudly. She caused such a fuss that Rigby was forced to follow the incredibly amused Twi’lek when she advised that they both ‘avoid a noise complaint’ and left the hallway. Eventually resorting to carrying the droid after Nugget began pecking at their ankles.

“You’re lucky, you know.” Their guide said as she led them down the hallway. Rigby struggled with the kicking and flailing droid in their arms as they tried to listen to the strange woman. “Anybody else finds you like that in a place like Mahak, and you’re liable to get any credits to your name taken.”

“Oh.” Rigby blinked as the woman turned to glance at them, one brow quirked over amused hazel eyes. “Thank you.” The woman laughed again.

“Yeah, you’re definitely not from here, huh kid?”

“I don’t - think so.”

“Ah, you’re one of those.” 

She held up a finger when Rigby sucked in a breath, a hundred questions immediately bubbling up and just as quickly trapped behind their teeth. They watched as the woman drew in the last of her cigarette, their guts tying themselves in knots as they waited. Exhaling the last plumes of smoke, she shook her head at Rigby with a sympathetic look. 

“Before you ask, no, I don’t know your exact circumstances. But you’re not the first and I’m sure you certainly won’t be the last to be dropped off here after being wiped by a bender.”

“Y-you think I was drugged?!”

“Either that or some space wizard got to you.” Wiggling her fingers towards Rigby’s face, the woman cackled softly as she gestured for them to move along. “Either way - you’re gonna need credits if you’re gonna keep staying here. Yeah?”

“R-right. That’s why I left. There wasn’t much I could find out about this place.”

“Ahh, well then. Welcome to Mahak Station.” The Twi’lek rolled her eyes, pausing next to a disposal unit and flicking the stub of her cig into it. With the same motion she gestured, almost grandly, towards the doors they’d come to a stop at. “The best-worst shithole in the Outer Rim before you hit no-man’s-space.”

It took Rigby a moment to blink through the light that flooded the hallway until they could see through the doorway. And to process the sheer amount of sound that bombarded them. A nice courtesy for those living in the hallway behind them, that the doors blocked out the hundreds of thousands of neon bright lights and the sounds of a huge, bustling city. Wait…

A city.

When Rigby was able to, many, many minutes and levels later, that’s what they realized they were in. A city. Multiple levels housed anything from apartments to power processing plants, from dingy hole-in-the-wall bars to shopping centers and fresh food markets. Eventually they dropped Nugget when their arms began to get tired in favor of leaning against one of the railways along the edge of the level their ‘neighbor’ had let them out to.

Then quickly darted away from the railway on discovering just how high up their current level was. And how far down the station apparently went.

“Not a fan of heights?” The Twi’lek didn’t even bother hiding her amusement at Rigby’s expense. When Rigby shook their head emphatically, she laughed again, jerking her head in the direction of a clustering of people around a far wall. “You’ll love this part then. C’mon - I’ll give you a quick tour.”

Their neighbor, as it turned out, was a wealth of information. More than fucking Teb had been. And more vital in Rigby figuring out just how they were going to navigate their life now that they had such little recollection of what it had been before. It was a good thing that she was a living, breathing databank, too. Because once she let Rigby - and a still miffed Nugget - onto the lift, it was all Rigby could focus on in order to keep themself from throwing up.

“Mahak Station is the last stop in civilized space,” the Twi’lek explained. “You’re gonna find rough folks out here. People trying to make enough credits to get back into the center rims - back to places where they can actually make something of themselves. Or you’ll find ones who don’t give a shit about any of that anymore.” She gestured at herself. “I didn’t come to Mahak by choice, but when I found myself stranded I decided to make the best of a shitty situation.”

“That’s resourceful.”

“In a galaxy this ruthless, you have to be.” She’d given Rigby a scathing once-over, eventually sighing with clear exasperation. “Keep your wits about you, kid, or this place will chew you up and spit you out faster than a nexu will claw your eyes out.”

“I’m not a kid.” Rigby blinked owlishly at their own outburst, but let the words flow regardless. Because they intrinsically understood they were the right words. “I’m thirty.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” their lift-companion said with an amused chuckle. “Must be that mind-wiped, glazed-eye look that makes you look younger than you are.” Brushing off that exchange, the woman continued, “You won’t want to try and make friends here with just anybody. Most folks will want something in return for kindness, and it’s usually not worth the price.” When she tugged down the deep pink sleeve on one arm, Rigby barely glanced over in time to see the twisted flesh of a scar on the woman’s shoulder. They decided it wasn’t worth pressing her. “Keep an eye on the people with orange patches on their back - and the ones with purple gloves on their right hands. Don’t mix with them. Ever. Or the guards.”

“As in, law-enforcement ‘guards?’”

“Yeah. They’re just as much of a gang as the other two. If not worse.” The doors hissed open, and Rigby followed their guide out on shaky legs. “Don’t buy spice from anybody who’s selling it on the street.”

“I don’t -- “

“-- use spice, I know kid, nobody does.” Rolling her eyes, she jerked her head again, indicating for Rigby to hurry up as she picked up the pace. “Nobody this far gone in the Outer Rim is free of vices. I’d say to keep your nose clean but I’d be a hypocrite - just find someone you trust not to shove the business end of a blaster down your throat if you’re going to buy.

“And seriously, don’t accept kindness from strangers. There’s always a price to pay.” She slowed to a stop in front of a building that jutted out slightly from the streamlined shops and buildings lining the level. Arms folded, hip cocked to one side, as she glanced around quickly before asking, “So, you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Good. Because I’ve got a shift and not enough bodies to keep this place running.”

Gesturing to the building behind her, she drew Rigby’s attention to the flickering sign. ‘Last Greasy Spoon’ glowed in an almost offensively bright blue, casting an eerie, contrasting glow across the woman’s skin. The lights were off save for one of the rooms in the back, and Rigby squinted to try and glean the general shape of the structures inside the building. It took some focus and filling in the blanks on their part, but they eventually saw booths, a bar, and a register. Rigby almost drew back when their guide crowded in their space, not realizing they’d almost pressed their nose to the transparisteel windows. 

“You have two choices,” their neighbor announced. “You either find your way back to our apartment wing, or you stick around for the next eight hours, and get a free meal by the end of it.”

To Rigby’s recollection, the steaming plate dropped in front of them after the next twelve hours was the best worst food they’d ever tasted. It took them a while to shovel it into their mouth, exhaustion making everything difficult. All parts of their body were tired. But their mind was still abuzz, trying 

Once the lights had gone on, folks from all over the station had begun a steady and continuous flow of business. And Rigby was tasked with helping out from open to close. Their Twi’lek neighbor had loaded them up with anything and everything she could. From taking orders to serving tables, cleaning up spills to deep cleaning the ‘fresher that had obviously needed some attention for a long, long time. But they were glad for it all just the same. Something they made abundantly clear to their neighbor as she led them back to their door.

“Don’t thank me, kid.” Flicking their lighter back on, she lifted one brow at them. “It was just a fair exchange. Information for labor.”

“What about the food, then?”

“I expect you to work that off. And for the next one, too. Or however many times you feel like it.” She paused as she lifted the lighter to the cig between her lips, taking a long, steady drag. Exhaling as she leaned against the wall next to Rigby’s door, she let her head fall back, one lekku slowly sliding off her shoulders and nearly touching the floor. When she addressed Rigby again, her words came a little slower, a lot calmer. “So. Your choice - keep working for free food, or we do this the ‘official’ way and I pay you.” She paused. “Food’s gonna be half-price after that.”

“Mighty kind of you to offer.”

“I’d be a fool to not try to snatch you up before someone else does.” Taking another deep draw on her cig, Rigby’s neighbor squinted at them. “You don’t complain - you do things quick, and if you don’t do them right the first time you don’t try pawning it off on someone else. And you’re good with customers. Probably better than they deserve. I’ll be by tomorrow, same time as today. After that I won’t show you the way to the lifts, so I expect you to get to the diner on time, without a chaperone.” Her eyes darted down to Rigby’s shins. Rigby followed her line of sight to the droid partially hidden behind their legs. “And keep the droid out of my diner - nearly tripped over her a dozen times.”

For a few seconds, they considered the Twi’lek woman staring back at them. The fresh memory of the scar on the woman’s shoulder resurfaced, and Rigby suddenly saw the more subtle signs of age on their neighbor’s features. And her own apparent youth. She couldn’t have been more than five, maybe seven years Rigby’s senior - but she had been hardened, scuffed up and maybe a little broken by the life she’d lived. She was just as much of a mystery as this station was to them. But she hadn’t tried killing Rigby, hadn’t tried robbing them. Well, of anything but their time, which they had way too much of anyway. And she’d fed them.

“Rigby.”

“Pardon?”

“My name. It’s Rigby.” Holding their hand out, they waited until their new boss hesitantly did the same, and Rigby shook it once. “And if you’re going to make me work more than my actual shift, I expect a free meal.”

“A free drink.”

“Desert?”

“Fine.” Rolling her eyes, Rigby’s new boss smirked at them. “You’re gonna regret this.”

“I doubt it.” As their boss waved them off and made her way further down the hall, Rigby glanced down at their droid companion. For a moment the two just stared at each other, before Rigby’s head snapped back up and they called out, “Wait, who are you?!”

“Folks call me Kaati.” In a plume of smoke, she disappeared into her apartment. “Welcome to Mahak, Rigby.”

-----

Taglist: @seeking-kharis @jabbas-lightsaber @rain-on-kamino Wanna be added to the Taglist? Go fill out the form here!

[writerlyhabits]

Shine and Polish

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Request: "Din catches you cleaning/polishing his armor for him (something usually only done between courting Mandos) and gets all shy explaining the implications to you send tweet"

Warnings: mild language, mature themes, Din in sweatpants, I think that's it?? Idk it's a short one

AN: I want to formally apologize to all of you who sent Din requests to my inbox that have been sitting there for a while, I promise I see you, I just had such a hard time finding the right motivation and inspiration for these pieces. Hopefully I can get the others pumped out in a decent timeline as well 🤞 Thanks @deceiverofgodss for bullying me into working on this, ily 💛 I hope you guys enjoy!

The beskar armor was a large part of his intimidation. It widened his frame – which was admittedly big enough without it – making him bulkier, heavier, a force to be reckoned with. It represented the history of warriors before him, Mandalorians through generations maintaining their reputation of being a people you don’t come back from a fight with. The dark visors and emotionless helmets only helped on that front, he couldn’t even count how many people had tried to back their way out of trouble with one silent look from him. 

Each beskar’gam was unique to the Mandalorian wearing it, and they take special care to make sure it looks as intimidating as wearing it makes them feel. Some go out of their way to paint their beskar, symbolizing their journey with specific colors and designs of their heritage. For Din, it’s keeping the pure metal shined and polished – it turns heads and sends a whisper through the crowd at the mere sight of him. 

It takes a lot to keep it that way. 

He’d had to get his new armor after the Mud horn, but getting out the mud caked into the rest of it had taken much longer than he cared to admit. Being swallowed by the Krayt Dragon and then walking through the Tatooine desert had left him scrubbing the dried goo from crevices he didn’t know existed for hours after you and the kid had fallen asleep. And now, he could only imagine the hassle it would be getting all the blood that kriffing Nexu had gotten all over his armor. 

Din was damn near ready to collapse when you all had gotten back to your room at the inn, but he could feel the dirt and grime that was building up underneath his flight suit. He watched you launch Grogu into the air a few times, hugging him close as you flopped down onto one of the small beds, and sending a wink Din’s way. 

You were a saint. With the kid nestled into your arms and properly distracted, he began stripping off his Beskar and setting it down on the caf table. He’d have to get to it after he got out of the ‘fresher. One more glance over at you, smiling to himself as little green hands grabbed your cheeks to try and escape your barrage of kisses, and he slipped into the bathroom. 

The reflection looking back at him in the mirror was rough, to say the least, but when the hot water pounded into his skin the rest of the galaxy faded away. 

It felt like heaven. He let it run across his face as he tried to revive his hair, though he didn’t know what difference it would make, it would be flattened under the helmet again once he stepped out. The pressure of the water worked wonders on the knots in his shoulders. He’d have to find a way to get those out sooner rather than later. Maybe he could sweet talk you into helping… He could just imagine how your nimble fingers would feel gliding across his skin, easing his muscles, gripping his shoulders while he-

No. That was enough of that. Dangerous territory Djarin, keep it together. 

You’d been traveling with Din for… well, it had been a long time now. You’d been with him through thick and thin, been there well before he’d picked up a strange bounty from an imperial imp, and fallen in love with the little green bounty just as much as he had. And after having lost the kid and gotten him back, a handful of times Din had still yet to tell you how he felt. At least, not in a way you’d be able to pick up on. 

Each day that passed where he would choke on his words, he watched you instead. He knew what would catch your eye as you walked through the markets on rural planets, he knew your favorite foods and could tell what you would get for yourself – often before you did. He knew how to read your body language as well as you had come to read his, and you were so in tune with each other that it felt as if you’d known each other your whole lives. 

So why couldn’t he just fucking say what he meant? Instead, he stood by your side and watched as that pretty smile formed on your cheeks, watched your eyes sparkle in the starlight, watched you smother Grogu in loving affection… All he ever did was watch. 

He wanted to take your hand for more reasons than pulling you along behind him, he wanted to do it for no reason. He wanted to stand too close and put his hand at the small of your back, brush his bare thumb across your cheek to comfort you, hold you close to keep you warm late at night. He wanted to run his hands over all your curves, see your pupils blown wide as you looked up at him, feel you quiver beneath him as he-

Dank farrik, cut it out. Din turned the water ice cold to shake himself of the thoughts, pushing them back into the corners of his mind where they belonged. He couldn’t afford to think of you like that, not while he kept watching without saying a damn word about how he felt. 

He took his time leaving the room that was now filled with humid air and steam from his shower. It had made it easier to clean the blood that had splattered on his helmet, polishing it to look as clean as he felt. He dressed in a fresh set of lounge clothes – an investment he’d made at your insistence, and one he’d thanked you for every time the soft clothes draped against his skin – and placed the helmet back on his head, ready to face the rest of his party once again. 

With you, he was prepared for anything. He loved your wild spirit, a shining beacon of your warmth in a galaxy that was otherwise cold and unkind. What he wasn’t prepared for was to see you sitting on the floor with his beskar in your hands, half of the pieces on the caf table having been cleaned and polished. 

It was times like these he was thankful he was hidden behind the helmet, because his cheeks were burning in an incriminating shade of red. 

“I like your pants, Din,” you smiled, only looking up from his shoulder piece to give him a playful smirk. And was that..? Of fucking course it was the one with his signet. Cause that’s what he needed right now. “Those the really soft ones I convinced you to get on Naboo?”

“I- yeah… they’re uh, nice,” he managed, feet rooted to the spot, unable to take his eyes off of the way you were being so delicate with his armor. 

“Oh, they’re nice. Well, aren’t you chatty.” Any other time, he might’ve laughed. Currently, his brain was rewiring itself. His lack of response must have been noticeable because now you were setting your rag aside and giving him a concerned look. “Is everything okay?” 

If ever there was a loaded question, that would be it. 

“Yeah, just fine.” A cock of your eyebrow told him that you didn’t believe him, but he couldn’t seem to get any words of consolation out of his mouth. A few more beats of silence passed, Din tried swallowing the lump in his throat a few times, and then he saw something in your expression shift. You were figuring it out… Your focus shifted back down to the shoulder piece in your hand, drifted to the others on the caf table beside you, and found his again with worry in your eyes. 

“Have I done something wrong?”

“No,” he was quick to assure you. “No, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Are you sure? I haven’t broken some sacred bond between you and your armor?” His heart was hammering in his chest, but you were still able to get an amused huff out of him, which you had told him were barely audible outside of the helmet. He shook his head to answer your question, and in response, you set the now shining shoulder piece back with the rest of his armor. “Will you tell me what’s going on then? You’re freaking me out.”

Maker, where would he start? 

He took a deep breath and decided to take a seat on the floor across from you, leaning against the side of the table. He bent his knees so his feet were flat – grounding him, in a way – his arms rested on top of them. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, possibly giving the appearance that he was relaxing, giving his body a rest. It couldn’t have been farther from the truth. 

“When a Mandalorian cleans another’s armor, it’s a representation of trust,” he started, figuring it would be better if he led with an explanation instead of a blunt answer. “The one removing their armor becomes vulnerable, unprotected by their beskar; they are trusting the other with that vulnerability. And as the other polishes the armor they’ve been trusted with, they help prepare them for battle.”

“That’s beautiful,” you whispered, and only then did he dare look at you. A soft smile graced your cheeks, very visibly put at ease at not having made some great offense to his creed. 

“It’s… a very common courting ritual.” Your eyes widened, and your lips parted in realization. Din didn’t know if he wanted to grab you, pull you into his lap and tell you exactly what had been on his mind the second he saw you with his armor… or if he wanted to run from the room until you could both forget about this entirely. 

He was on the verge of opening his mouth to take it back, to assure you it didn’t always have to mean something that significant – even if that would be a lie – but you beat him to the punch. 

“Tell me more,” you lilted, head tilted in curiosity. “What else do courting Mandos do?” His nerves would have done well with a very large glass of spotchka to have this conversation, though having a sober judgment was probably in his best interest. 

“Mandalorians are big on hidden meanings, a lot of what we do tends to symbolize something bigger.” 

“I’ve noticed,” you smiled, easing his nerves enough to get another small laugh out of him. 

“In a way, it’s somewhat similar to any other relationship. Building trust, getting to know each other, spending time together. The difference is in that underlying meaning, our rituals intended to show how together you both will honor the Resol'nare.” He paused to give you a minute to take it in, stop him if you needed further explanation, but your evident eagerness prompted him forward. “They usually represent how you will contribute to the community together, how you will provide for one another. How you will rear children together.” 

That last statement made his heart skip and sent an electric shot through his body – and to a part of him that didn’t need to be present in this conversation. 

“I guess that makes sense, there’s no Resol’nare in a non-mando relationship, but you still try to figure out how a life together is going to look,” you agreed. “Are most of your rituals like this one? Providing acts of service to your partner?”

“A good many of them, yes. Polishing armor, cleaning weapons…” You were too clever for him to get away with this, he saw the slight tilt of your lips as the same realization hit you both; he always cleaned your weapons for you. Even after he’d taught you how to clean your blaster, he would hold out his hand and make some kind of excuse about it being easier since he was already cleaning his own. 

He could recover from this. “Some gift handcrafted weapons, and if their bond is strong enough, those weapons will bear the other’s signet.” He’d yet to give you a mudhorn, that one was easy. Given, there weren’t very many items that had a mudhorn on them in passing, otherwise he might not have been able to resist the temptation. But while he was in the clear, he watched the slight drop in your demeanor. 

“Are you allowed to so openly wear someone else’s signet?” 

“Not on your armor. But with a weapon, it is a gift that you may carry the other’s signet while courting, not necessarily that you may wear it as your own.” You nodded in understanding, and he waited for that slight knowing smile to come back to your cheeks, and was surprised at his disappointment when it didn’t. He was in the clear, you wouldn’t suspect him… 

And maybe he didn’t want that anymore. 

“That one is more formal, but there are others to do with hunting and providing,” he said quickly, acting on instinct to try and reel you back in. “A basic, instinctive display of protection; bringing meats and hides from your hunt, preparing their favorite foods…” He couldn’t find the words to continue anymore when your gaze met his visor and softened. You figured him out, and his heart may have been beating in his ears, but he was no less confident in his quiet admission. 

“Din?” you asked gently, and he said your name in acknowledgement. “Have you been flirting with me?” 

“Yes.” The sparkling smile that spread across your cheeks sent a warm feeling through his body. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I needed time. That was the only way I knew how to do anything about it without making a fool of myself, or ruining one of the few good things that I have,” he smiled, and you turned away from him to hide your own flustered expression. 

“That’s not fair! I didn’t know that’s what you were doing,” you laughed. 

“That was the point,” he smiled, and you shook your head exasperatedly as your gaze settled back out into the room. He followed your line of sight, landing on the child as he sat happily in the cocoon of blankets and toys you had crafted for him on one of the beds. 

Din felt a familiar ache as he watched his foundling, one that longed for these little domestic routines with your mis-matched family. He tried to ignore them because of the desire for you they had a tendency to inspire, despite the fact that no matter what he liked to call you, the three of you were a family in your own way. And yet, this time felt different. It felt comfortable. 

He caught your movement in his peripherals, turning his head slightly to find you grinning curiously at him. “Now that I know… how do you feel?” He took a second to inhale before he responded, steadying himself. 

“That depends. Other than your piqued interest, I still don’t have an answer to how you feel.” He was sure you saw right through him; he wasn’t an ignorant man, he could assume how you felt based on your response. But he’d done enough of that. Besides, it was your turn to be the one spilling your guts.  

“Well… I’ll tell you that now I know where I’ll pick up dinner tonight.”

“That’s not what I-” 

“The cantina we passed in town, they have that soup I know you love,” you started, quick to cut him off and make him see your damn point. “I don’t know if it counts because I didn’t prepare it, but that’s the best I can do for now. You’re just gonna have to read between the lines, Mandalorian.” He only stared at you for a few moments, taking in your growing smile, warm and mischievous in a way that was so unique to you. 

You were flirting back at him. 

You liked him. 

Instead of finding words to reply, having used up his usual quota, Din shifted in his place on the floor to reach out for you. Your soft laughter lit up his entire body as he pulled you closer, and you slid into his lap with ease. He could no longer deny himself with your half-spoken admission, giving in to the part of him that needed to have you close as often as he could manage.

Thanks for reading!! If you’d like to be notified when I post a new fic, be sure to follow @writerlyhabits-library + turn on post notifications! 💛

Speaking of, if you wouldn’t mind answering my survey about what you think of my library/taglist system? It’d help me figure out how to reach you guys best. I’d really appreciate it!

[charnelhouse]

dark marks

Rating: 18+, Explicit Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader Wordcount: +4.8K Summary: You tell Din about your past. Warnings: Mentions of smut. GORE. Discussion of abuse - implication of sexual abuse (nothing in detail/graphic). Self-hatred. Trauma. PTSD. Unhealthy coping mechanisms. A/N: idk bout dis. IDK.

Part Seven of i’ve flown too close to the sun

Previous Part

You stare at the mirror. Din had returned you to the Crest and you had immediately raced for the fresher.

“I need a few minutes, Din.”

“I need to bandage you. Your arm. Your head. You’re still bleeding.”

“Just a moment.”

“Mesh’la.”

“Please.”

Just a moment. A thousand moments. You could tell Din didn’t want to let you out of his sight. He had wrapped his arm around your waist, practically carried you back to the ship. He had grunted with each step - muttering angrily as he discovered one more new wound on your body. 

His grip was hard and you understood. Din still struggled with his emotions - he had thought he had lost you and he was still mentally working through it - figuring out where to place all of that terrified energy. Where to set it down? Where to shove it? Din could be a raw nerve at times - blistering with agony if you jerked your thumb inside before it had closed. His touch on you was desperate and rough - maybe too much for your current state but you liked it. 

You both were built from the same material - razor-wire warriors who felt comfort in harsh hands.

It was fair - you had lied to him and left him and he had no way of knowing if you’d run from him again. This time for good. Now - he wanted you to confide in him. He’d left the child with Cara for the night so they could be alone. Din needed answers. He deserved them.

You grip the handle of the shower and wrench it to molten hot. The steam swallows the air - fogs the mirror until your shape has blurred and morphed to something ambiguous. The irregular form of a woman - a humanoid - a thing.

You touch your reflection - sliding your palm through the slippery condensation. The fragments of you revealed in stark color. The crust of desert sand along your hairline - your ears and nose. The wash of dried red that looks black under the flickering yellow light.

You were different now. Weren’t you? You scrape at the dried blood on your chin. Your swollen eye has begun to deflate - just a little - just enough.

You think of Dechard. 

His voice seeps through your memory - the pressure of a caress - the damp sweetness of it. You hear your name on his lips - the tone he used as if he was cradling the word - sweeping his thumb over the letters - the intonations.

“Smile for me.”

Your lips spread apart - your teeth stained with carmine as you grin like something out of its mind. Something empty and fragile. Macabre. Following the orders of a ghost-voice. You nudge your tongue across the interior of your mouth - the slick tissue faint with the metallic taste of your blood. You’d bitten through your cheek when you hit the floor too hard back in that abandoned facility.  

“Show me how much you love me.”

You swallow a sob - your knees weak as your body loses its fight and you stumble backward. You crash into the floor of the shower, your legs locking out as water pounds down on your skull. Your head throbs beneath the spray of it and you don’t mind. You don’t mind at all.

It’s a feeling. It’s - at least - a feeling.

You long for sleep.

***

“Lovely girl.”

It floats silky across the expanse of your back - rubs tender into the broken places of you. Your muscles burn from exertion - the knife warms your grip.

You don’t realize the injury you can do to yourself when you twist a knife - a blade - when you bring it down again and again until it bounces off bone or cartilage or muscle and catches your skin.

Strong hands snatch around your waist - lift you to your feet. A bearded jaw grazing across your temple, murmuring quiet praise:

Look at that. Look at what you did - all on your own. 

You are tense - so tense - your spine rigid as you wait for the other shoe to drop. You wait for the fall. But it doesn’t come. He skates his fingers across your arm - turning it over - lifting it to face you. The knife clatters to the dust-thick ground.

“You’ve hurt yourself,” he remarks - brushing his thumb over the torn skin of your palm and bruised knuckles. 

Now.

Now - he will punish you - 

For being sloppy -

For being bad -

He curls his hand around your chin - nudging his lips over the pulse in your throat. His tongue dips intimately - suggestively - at the vein. It is quick - a flutter - a blink before it disappears.

You want more of it - his love.

“Your hand,” he murmurs. “I want you to fix it.”

You furrow your brow. “How?”

“Relax,” he purrs. “Think of it...touch it with your mind...knit the skin.”

It’s impossible - you can’t think with him holding you like this. The fever-hot temperature of his cheek is like a flood of sunlight. “You know how to do it. You already do it when you fight,” he drawls. “You do it in small ways - muddle your enemy’s head - make his fist miss or his knife. I’ve seen you curve the shot of a blaster.”

“I don’t -”

“Shh,” he pushes his fingertips into the cut skin of your hand - the sharp pulse of pain that feels like nothing when he dips his chin and kisses you.

**

Your name snaps you to attention - shatters through the flush of memory. It feels as if you have been slammed back down into your body - soul spilling like syrup over your bones.

Your name bursts through the fog again and firm hands drag you forward. Din appears in front of you - the gleam of his helmet vibrant within the swirling condensation of the shower. The water streams over his visor - blurring your reflection as you blink up at him. He cradles the hinge of your jaw.

“Cyar'ika,” he hisses and it’s not gentle or soft. It is edged in anxiousness - in trepidation and frustration. His voice lowers beneath the echoing ratatatat of the shower - the same din of blaster-fire - the recollection of old, violent memories that won’t leave you. “You’re fucking scaring me.”

“I’m sorry.” You don’t know what else to give him.

He drops to his knees. “What is wrong? I need you to let me in. I can’t - I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

You don’t want to go down that road. You don’t want to tell him. It’s too much. It’s a mark on you - a smear of ugly history. You need him in different ways.

“Fuck me,” you plead - curling your fingers into his soaked cape - yanking him off-balance.

“No,” he snaps. “No - you are hurt.”

“It’ll help, Din,” you cry. “Please.”

He awkwardly reaches for the handle of the shower - shutting the water off. He’s breathing hard through the modulator while he crouches in front of you. His other hand - bare and golden - is still on your jaw - still mindlessly stroking your skin as he thinks - or at least appears to be thinking - struggling -

You want his face- you want it more than you have ever wanted anything in your life. You want to see his expression - the giving mouth - the eyes that you know are kind and dark and deep with a trove of memories that flit between his bad behavior and his good deeds. You knew Din was a man of contrasts - a double. He had done terrible things and still managed to be a person worth loving - a person who loved. Maybe - you could do it. Maybe - you could be the same. You want to see how your Mandalorian sees you - how he looks upon you. 

Dechard had regarded you the same way he watched the trickle of credits fall into his hand. The lewd naked grin - white and bright - a shock against the shadows of his face. The same pale wan of the moon swallowed by the tangle of the night.

Your heart is in your throat - thrumming wildly - beating inside the bowl of your skull. Your eyes trail after him - following the shift of his visor as he studies you cautiously. You want to see - you want to see him - need to see him to be sure.

He’s not Dechard.

You act before you can even process what you’re doing. Your hands shoot out, pinching the edge of his helmet before you shove it upward. There’s the flash of his chin - his bearded jaw - the pink swell of his lower lip. He makes a strangled sort of noise as he falls back on his ass - ripping your grip from him.

“What are you doing?” he yells - incredulous. “What the fuck?”

It’s like you’ve been slapped - punched out by a cool iron fist as your sense returns to you.

Oh no. Nononono. Maker - how could you? What did you do?

He’s hauling himself to his knees - leaning towards you and you jerk away from him. You press your hands to your ears - curling into the tightest ball you can. “I’m sorry,” you babble. “Fuck - I’m so sorry. I didn’t - I didn’t mean to. Please.”

He freezes - taking a minute - taking two - and then his voice dips to something soothing and tender. “I’m not going to hurt you,” He raises his hands up - spreading them wide. “You know me, pretty girl. You know that I’d only ever protect you.”

Slowly - he wraps his fingers around your wrist - drawing you to him. You go. You allow him to ease you into his lap, folding the bulk of himself around your body as you go limp. To anyone else, his armor would be uncomfortable - sharp and pointed and digging into your soft skin. To you - it’s a wall - a guard - your enormous barrier from all the rest.

“Did you need this?” he murmurs as he gently covers your eyes with his hand. You hear the hiss and click of his helmet and then feel the pressure of his naked cheek - the rasp of his beard as he turns your face and captures your mouth. It hurts just enough as he kisses you fiercely - his tongue coaxing over your swollen and split lower lip. It shocks you awake - his touch like a stone toss - splintering those glass-sheen memories of Dechard until they shatter and clutter to the floor of your head.

You reach into his lap - trying to unbuckle his belt but he stops you. He makes a quiet noise of protest. His palm is warm - a little clammy - across your eyes. He’s careful not to put pressure on the ruined mess of your right one.

Careful. Always careful. 

That’s why he’s not Dechard.

“I’m going to bandage you,” he states against your lips - in between the slide and press of his kisses. “I’m going to clean you up and then you’re going to tell me everything.”

You sigh - clutching his cheek to crush your mouth to his one more time. You hope to funnel your care for him - your love. It is love. It is and you hadn’t known or understood how to love - how to act or show it. You hope that he would not judge you too harshly - that the pedestal he had you on wouldn’t crumple to nothing. 

You hope.

***

“His name is Dechard,” you tell him and it feels like relief. You’ve confessed it finally - stripped his identity and handed it to Din. Now - they could share it. 

The black T of his visor meets your gaze as he regards you silently. He’s rubbing bacta over your wounds - coating the torn skin in films of cool gel.

“The man who hurt you?” he confirms - stroking you - massaging your aches. He is so solid around your legs - his knees framing your thighs. There is a cold shudder through the modulator.

You snort. “It’s - it’s more complicated than that. He taught me everything. The reason I’m such a good hunter? Fighter? It’s all because of him.”

Din’s fingers tighten on your wrist but he remains silent.

“I-I suppose I was a mercenary,” You pick at the skin on his hand - flexing your toes before stretching your neck until it cracks. “He had me kill important people. I couldn’t tell you who they were - what they did or why they deserved it...they probably didn’t.” You gasp - the creep of those brutal images circling through the rod of your brain stem. The splash of blood or the curl of smoke as you fried them with a blaster shot. The crack of bone as you twisted a neck with strength that wasn’t natural.

“Sweet one,” he soothes - as he pets your cheek. “I-I already know this - I had an idea at least.”

“No - that’s - that’s not everything.” You struggle to find the right route - the right narrative - the roots of your story. You don’t even know it yourself. You sit back, but he keeps his hands on you. 

“I discovered later that he was working for the Empire,” you recall - tracing the blood stains on your pant leg. “He ran their underground deals - their assassinations. He got into its inner circle and he used me as a ticket - at least that’s what I gathered.”

“A ticket?”

“I was important to the cause or seen as such,” you explain. “I - fuck - I have some strange abilities.”

“Abilities?” he echoes. “Like the child?”

You didn’t know everything that you could do. You didn’t understand exactly what you were capable of. You got about as far as the healing (aside from one other event) and a great deal of you honestly didn’t want to know the rest of it.

“Yes,” you reply, eyes darting away from him. “Maybe like the kid’s. Maybe not. I never asked. I didn’t - I was scared of it.”

You place his hand against your cheek - letting him run his knuckles across the closed flesh. He gasps - it’s subtle enough that you’d miss it if you hadn't been prepared for it. “That - that was split open earlier.”

“Yes.”

“You heal?”

“To an extent,” you shrug. “I can physically heal, but not in the other ways I would have liked to. When it became apparent that bodily harm wasn’t the worst he could do to me, he sought out different methods. Broke me mentally - ripped me apart emotionally until I just learned to accept it.”

Din says nothing - but his body goes rigid - the slant of his broad shoulders like a razor. His fingers tremble against your newly sealed flesh. “When I got older - he flipped it. He changed the way he handled me - he - he - pretended to love me and I was desperate for it - for his acceptance and his praise.”

Din swallows audibly and you can sense the bite of his fury - the slow rise of emotion as he tries to anchor himself to you. The distinct pound of his heart. “Mesh’la...”

You scrub at your face - not caring as you bump up against your damaged eye. “What did I know of love anyway? I’d - I’d only known him.”

***

You remember how soft he had turned in the later years. His behavior then was frankly worse than when he had been overtly cruel. It’s because you had become a prize for him - your powers that were now his because he possessed you in all the ways it mattered.

He had hooked himself into you - built you as he had promised - as he had hoped. But - with it - you had aged with a meanness inside you. It settled in your belly - plump and sweet - ripening like fruit as it expanded to something juicy and succulent and just as that meanness threatened to make you finally snap - you’d tear your teeth through it and it would go to ash.

You’d submit - you’d bite your tongue and answer him like his loyal subject - his attack dog. 

“Good girl,” he’d smile - his handsome face delighted and proud.

***

“I - I finally got angry enough to leave,” you tell Din. “Something erupted inside me - I guess. I don’t know.”

***

He had forced your hand - had told you to kill a girl - just your age. A senator’s daughter. You don’t know why it was her - you don’t know why you stumbled at his command and refused. You had certainly done worse. 

Perhaps - she had reminded you of yourself? Perhaps - you had hit your limit.

Dechard’s treatment had made you ache - had stabbed something deep and left it to rot. His anger and cruelty were one thing - his touch another. It was insidious - it was like he slicked tar across your skin - drenched you in something that you both desperately wanted and also did not.

***

“Kill her,” he growls.

Rage bubbles in the clasp of your ribs - the brunt of it beginning to boil and stew. You had caught your face in the reflective surface of the wall behind Dechard’s head: the blank obedience twisting into a new ferocity - into pain - anguish - and then you finally said it:

“I fucking hate you.”

“What?” His gaze widening like he’d been slapped - like he’d been soaked in cold water.

“I hate you,” you grunt - piercing your nails into the flesh of your palms. “You fucking monster.”

“Say that again,” he threatens - stepping toward you. “Say it.”

His eyes narrow - galaxy-dark - the hungry maw of two black hole twisting and ready to eat. 

Fear - lights up at the center of your brain - a warning - a bright red splatter of nerves - of branching lights pulsing and throbbing hot to overwhelming sensation. It screams stop. This goes against everything you’d been taught and told and had beaten into you. Stop now. Stop now. Danger. 

Thermal Overload. 

It all goes grey-white. It goes to bone. You momentarily go blind.

You don’t think or act or even mean to until you realize that Dechard is rising up in the air. You bloom with loathing that now spirals out of your control. You brim with thoughts of what he had done - how he had told you that you were meaningless - that no one loved you but him - how he had forced you to kill when you were a child. 

“You pathetic girl. You broken thing. You fail and fail again. Weak and small and insignificant and how will that ever serve me.”

Something snaps in his elbow and he bellows - it pulses through your ears. You’d never heard him make that sound before. You watch - now curious - as his skin tears at his hairline - as red drips down his cheek and for once he looks alarmed.

He is speaking to you - pleading about something but you tune him out. Joy swells inside your chest - excitement as you hurt the man who had hurt you so deliberately well and for so long. The cycle of pain. The sickness. All gone. It can be all gone. 

Finish it. Finish it. Finish it. 

There are two warm trails of blood sliding down from your nostrils -  spilling iron on your lips. How did you do this? Another bone splinters. Another bark of agony. You don’t know. You don’t know. You don’t know. 

Does it matter? Does it really?

A memory - color-soaked and cherished - dances in front of you. A year previous when you had almost died from a blaster shot to your chest. You had struggled to breathe - drowning as your lung popped and you quivered like a beached fish. Dechard - who you had thought would despise you for losing - lunged to your side - cradling you against him. “No, my love,” he whispered. “No - you won’t go out like this.” 

His tears had slipped salt-wet across your face - the sentiment and the genuine longing as he confessed: love love love -

You lived.

Your knees buckle as your palms smack against the floor. He follows - strings cut as he folds to a jumble. You peer over at him where he’s crumpled against the wall - bloody and ripped and cracked. A doll - a husk.

Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.

There’s something unreadable in his eyes as he meets your gaze - glimmering dark and heady. Jewels. Lava rock. 

Understanding.

He struggles to breathe.

Kill him.

You run instead. 

***

“I left him,” you confess. “I didn’t have the strength - the - the fucking conviction to finish it.”

Din is still soundless and you briefly wonder if you’d given too much of yourself away. 

You had retched out all the thick - the black stretch of your past that had threatened to slit you open. Would Din hate you now? Judge you? The wreckage you had left in your wake? The things Dechard had done to you? The things you had even liked?

And then what you had done to him without even trying - cracking his bones and making him bleed like you were tugging apart the wings of an insect....

You had told him - in the intimacy of this dark room. You had given him yourself completely.  There are still a few blinking lights - a mellow ambient glow through the hull. You rake your vision across the shape of your Mandalorian in front of you - regarding you with mute intensity. You can read him beneath his helmet - in the tense line of his shoulders.

“Close your eyes,” Din finally demands and you do without question. You trust him implicitly. There is the muffled hiss of his helmet - the clang of it hitting the ground. Through the thin skin of your lids - you realize he has turned off the remaining light.

“Open them.”

You do. 

He leans forward to claim your lips in a way that is so fucking tender it aches. He licks into your mouth, savoring the swell of your tongue - your sweetness. It feels good. It muffles the scream of Dechard’s force and touch and influence. His taste turns you out - makes your cunt clench as you fall into it and against him. He thrusts behind your teeth with panicked hunger. He threads his fingers through your hair to pull you closer - to force you open. He brands you in his kiss.

He breathes your name - your real one - the letters soft and pressed with a devotion that shakes you. He breaks away - a sharp gasp as if it pains him to stop before he cradles your cheek. “You continue to surprise me, pretty girl.”

“Huh?” You’re still drunk on him - consumed by the burning of his tongue wrapped around yours.

“You were raised with so much hate. So much pain,” he explains. “But - here you are - still capable of kindness - still brave - still ready to throw yourself in front of anyone that threatens your family.”

Family. It’s true - it’s so fucking true. Din is your safety and he is your lover and you had never known true contentment until he had come into your life. The child? The child was yours, too. He was your infant - you had fed him and cleaned him and rocked him to sleep. You had treated him with all the gentleness that Din had taught you.

It wasn’t all soft. Din fucked you like he was fighting - fucked you like he could cram himself inside you and you still needed that. You needed his violence and his brutality and the bruising snap of his hips.

You reach for him and he allows it. You dip your fingers behind his belt before he stops you.

“I don’t know,” he says - not unkindly. “I don’t know if that is the best idea for you - 

You inhale sharply - pulling away from him. Was it because of what you had told him? How you had let Dechard do - 

“No,” he assures you hurriedly - like he’d read your mind. “No - baby - it’s not that - fuck - I can’t even - I can’t even touch on that right now.” He grips the nape of your neck firmly - titling your head up so that their foreheads meet. When he speaks, his voice is low and ragged against your lips. “I meant that you’re still injured and I don’t want to make it worse.”

“Oh,” you reply. “Makes sense.”

He sighs - his whole body shuttering as he draws his knuckles across your cheek - lulling you with comforting mouth sounds. “I can tell you that it wasn’t your fault. None of it. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t anything, but cruelty and manipulation. You did nothing wrong.”

“I killed a lot of people,” you remind him.

“So have I.”

“Maker - we are fucked up.”

He chuckles - shaking his head. “I suppose we are.” 

There is stillness between them. The air still tingles with your confessions - your history now freely spit up and given to Din and he had taken it - absorbed it - and he continued to embrace you.

“Can we - can we lie down?”

“Of course.”

He hauls you up - arms encircling your waist before he lays you on their shitty cot. He undoes his armor - your ears catching the clatter as he drops it in place. He settles behind you and you turn in his arms - tucking your chin against his warm chest. He smells like sweat - like the musk of a hard day and you press your lips to his skin.

He strokes the crown of your head and when he speaks, his voice is small: “When I saw that note - I thought you had left again. Run off.”

**

You had abandoned him once - your fear overwhelming you to the point where you had lost your sense.

Mando had ruined you. That’s what you had thought. Your feelings for him had only escalated every single time he slid inside you. He was breaking down your walls - chipping away at your pain and sadness that had settled in your chest. The sadness that you figured would remain permanent - thick in your bones - cemented beneath your skin.

He was carving into it - shattering it - and your bare insides - your soft center - was being sold to him with each tender fuck. It truly terrified you. You were getting weak.

It had finally come to a head.

You had gone on a hunt with Mando - treading after him as he marched through the rain-slick streets of Corellia. You were deeply distracted - on edge. Mando had just screwed you against the hull of the ship - his gloved hands tangled in your hair - his helmet sliding down your cheek as his hips rocked up into you.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he had husked - praise spilling forth with each punch of his cock. “Such a good girl for me - so fucking sweet.”

You weren’t. You were sick. You were a terrible fucking person who had done terrible fucking things and Mando praised you like you were the answer to all the rest. 

It was becoming too comfortable. You were feeling things. 

Since you were a child, you had been told to wipe your head. Your desires and your dreams were meaningless in the grand scheme of the galaxy. With Mando - he fucking asked they mattered.

What do you want, gorgeous girl? What is it you want and i’ll give it to you. You want to cum - feel good? I just want to make you feel so fucking good. 

And then he’d give you pleasure - delicious, warm mind-shattering orgasms where it felt as if stars were dancing at the center of your core - the plasma-rush of sensation making you short-circuit - making your cunt flutter around his perfect cock as you cried from the sweetness of it.

These were all the things you were thinking - all the things running wild through your head as they cornered their bounty. It was a mess of a fight - incredibly sloppy - and it had gotten Mando cut. A dirty slice through his upper arm that bled and bled and you had felt such guilt - such terror because you were so fucking preoccupied with thinking about Mando, you failed at taking care of yourself and thus Mando got himself gouged because he was trying to protect you...

You didn’t need protection. You didn’t need anything.

So you left.

**

You grab his hand - the bare, strong skin of his palm - the heat of him contrasting to his cold exterior. “I wouldn’t,” you promise. “I’d never. Not again.”

He gathers you flush against him - tightening his hold.

“I know you don’t think I see you, but I do. I fucking see you - I see you every time you go distant - I see you when you flinch and when you look like you want to cry.”

You suck your lip between your teeth - bite down. He rears back and you can feel his eyes on you through the dark. He grabs your chin in a vice. “Stop that. You always do that when you get uncomfortable or anxious. You don’t have to be like that with me.”

“Okay,” you offer lamely - pushing your nose into the underside of his arm - hoping you could squash the whole of yourself as deep as possible. There are times where he’s fucking you that you wish you could fuck him - that you could impale the pieces of yourself inside his body and have him swallow you down - take you to the hilt.

“Go to sleep now,” he urges. “Sleep now, my perfect girl.”

You would. You were so tired - almost delirious with exhaustion. Maybe - you wouldn’t dream or maybe if you did it would at least be good. You’d confessed after all.

“You won’t go after him, will you?” you ask suddenly - jerking your fingers into his hips - clinging to him.

He swallows - his torso stretching stiff beneath your touch. “I won’t.”

Din doesn’t lie. He avoids the truth - he talks around the target or plays on words. You have to be sure.

“I mean it,” you repeat. “You won’t go after Dechard.”

You declare it with finality - with all the rest of your strength. He won’t do it. You won’t allow it.

He doesn’t acknowledge your statement.

Instead - he hushes you - coiling his body around you more possessively until your cheek is smeared flat against his chest - the curly sparse hair tickling your nose. “Go to sleep, little one. You’re safe here.”

You don’t have the energy to argue.

Plz let me know your thoughts. I know this is kind of a boring chapter but we had to at least fill Din in on some of her past.

[bobafetts-princess]

Daily Thots; Paz is Back

I’m just thinking about Paz’s pilots chair and it went here

Warnings: Smut obvi, cockwarming, little overstim, creampies, Paz talks dirty; idk my brain is trash today

Okay so I think Paz is DTF anywhere under the sun

But he’s partial to his ship

And specifically partial to his captains chair

It’s not uncommon for you to come to the cockpit after checking the ship over or performing small repairs to see him sitting in the cockpit

Sometimes he’s got his codpiece off waiting for you to do the work to get him hard

But sometimes (your favorite times) he’s already got that thick cock in hand, stroking himself for you

“Come here, pretty thing. Sit with me,”

His words seem sweet but after the first few times you realized the intent behind them

The first time you stumbled over on wobbly legs, not sure what to think of this new side of Paz

“Strip” he’d commanded and you nearly fell over twice trying to obey

“Sit on my cock, sweet thing, wanna feel you wrapped around me,”

You’d moved to wrap your arms around his neck and sit facing him but he had other ideas

He moved you so that you were facing away from him, his legs spreading yours wide so that you were fully exposed

He’d buried himself inside you, fingers circling your clit until you broke, coming repeatedly on his cock

He’d fucked up into you, reaching his own release after you’d lost count of yours

Today had been a rough day

The bounty you were searching for had disappeared and started a firefight in the process

The ship had taken heavy damage but you were both okay

You’d completed as many repairs as you could while in space

You’d used the fresher, cleaning the day off of you before you made your way to Paz

He was sitting in the captains chair, ship on autopilot to a safe planet for more extensive repairs. You knew the type of mood he’d been in, so you hadn’t bothered putting on anything but his own oversized tunic.

He was already hard, cock in hand, stroking himself while he waited for you. He turned only slightly when he heard the door open, enough to acknowledge your presence.

“Come here pretty baby, wanna feel you,” he grunted, desperation lacing his tone. You briefly wondered how long he’d been edging himself waiting for you but as you walked over, his strong hands grabbed you and pushed you over the control center and questions flew out the window.

He pushed in slow, knowing you’d need time to adjust to the sheer size of him and it felt like it took ages for him to bottom out. One hand circled your clit the entire time, encouraging you to open up for him. He also whispered praises in your ear, telling you how good you were for him and how good you felt wrapped around him.

When he finally bottomed out he pulled your bodies backwards, settling in the chair. He hooked your knees over his, spreading you obscenely wide as his thick fingers found your pussy, spreading that too.

“Love how you look all spread for me. Wonder how many times I can make you come sitting on my cock,” he mused aloud, wrapping an arm around your waist and effectively pinning you in place. His calloused fingers found your clit and he hit tight circles around it, drawing soft gasps from your lips. “Five? Seven? How many orgasms do you think this pretty little pussy can have before you tap out?” He taunted, smearing some of your own wetness across the little bud to increase your pleasure. You were whining now, trying to answer his rhetorical questions with witty quips but the second he’d entered your heat all thoughts disappeared from your head. “Awe, has my poor little baby gone cockdumb already? I haven’t even fucked you yet, sweetling,” Paz mocked. His tone wasn’t doing anything but pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His fingers movied quicker across your clit and he knew you were close. His mouth was right by your ear when he whispered to you next, “you know, mesh’la, I can feel this pretty little pussy clamp around me. I know you’re getting ready to come.”

His pace against your clit was brutal as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, whispering filthy things in your ear, telling you how pretty you looked writhing for him. Moans were dropping from your lips like melted ice cream from a cone during a hot summer day and it only took a simple command from Paz for you to hit your peak.

“Come for me, pretty baby, wanna feel you come wrapped around me,” he growled and your orgasm hit so hard you couldn't even make a sound. Your head dropped back on his shoulder, mouth open and jaw slack as Paz continued his assault on your pussy. “That’s it, pretty thing, come for me again,” he told you and you were so sensitive from the first one that it didn’t take long for another to hit you. Paz’s arm around your waist kept you from moving as he pushed your limits, wrenching another orgasm from your cunt as you wriggled in his lap. “Fuck this pussy feels so good,” Paz growled, low and lust-filled next to your ear. Your wetness was dripping down the part of his cock that didn’t fit in your pussy and more was dripping from you with every pass of his fingers over your clit.

“Paz! Paz, I can’t come again!” You cried, nerve endings already fried from the day and the three orgasms he’d pulled from you.

“Yes, you can baby, I can feel your pussy. You’re ready to come again,” he told you, feeling the way you fluttered around him, body ready to betray you and give him another. If you hadn’t been so focused on your own release then you would have recognized his voice as he got closer to his own release. He laid a sharp smack to your spread pussy and that motion was enough to skyrocket you into another orgasm as you groaned, deep and guttural in your chest. Your body clamped down on his, pussy locking around his cock like a vice. You nearly blacked out, body stretching as far as his grip on you would allow and you only faintly hear his own growl.

When you came back down and your heart rate returned to normal you realized Paz was breathing heavily behind you, his grip slackening by the second and you realized something.

“Paz? Paz, did you cum?” Your voice sounded incredulous, even to your own ears.

“Yes, your pussy just feels so good mesh’la. You were gripping me so tight and gods it felt so good. I couldn’t help myself,” he admitted and you couldn’t help but feel so powerful. You made your lover cum just from your pussy pulsing around his cock as he made you cum.

You looked down at your conjoined bodies and saw his cum leaking from you, dripping down onto his own thighs.

“Pussy looks good filled with my cum, mesh’la,” Paz grunted and you couldn’t help but agree.

Tags: @tibbietibbs @latenightsthoughtsnstuff @zombiexbody @deewithani @keeper-of-the-sarlacc-pit @bvcketfvcker @fuckyeahbeskar @beskarprincessjenny @pala-din-djarin @redandwhiteroses @rebelpitstop

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[againstacecilia]

I've had a tough couple days and wanted comfort from a comfort character so here's soft!Din. Not super edited, just some fluff, some angst, a touch of misunderstanding (maybe?), reader is mentioned to have long enough hair to clasp back but fairly gender-neutral other than that. Bit of language? Idk lemme know what you think. 💖

Word count: 1560

Rating: E (I think? Lil bit of sexy mention but nothing past ~kissing~. The rest of my blog is 18+ NO EXCEPTIONS.)

What a fucking day.

You and Din had been chasing this bounty around the Outer Rim for a week now, and it had been a stroke of pure luck that you'd literally run into her outside Brogar's Safe House on Lok. She may have been evasive from a distance, but with the element of surprise on your side you got her pinned and bound fairly easily and into the freezing chamber on the Razor Crest before she could cause more problems.

Finally.

Din had gone up to the cockpit to get the Crest ready to go and you stepped into the 'fresher for a moment to yourself. Staring into the small mirror above the sink, you take a moment to just breathe in the silence and let the adrenaline from the afternoon fade from your body. You look at yourself, really LOOK at yourself, for the first time in months. The stress of bounty hunting was something you enjoyed at first. Always moving, always seeing new things and meeting new people, it gave you a new appreciation for the galaxy. For life, if you were honest with yourself. Then you met Din through Karga on Nevaaro and he and his kid were instantly a part of the story you were writing for yourself. Wrapped around the little womp rat's tiny finger, you knew sending him off to be with the Jedi was the right thing to do but it hurt like a bitch. Had hurt Din even more.

The last few bounties had been harder than ever to find and you were sure Din asked for more difficult targets to keep his mind off Grogu. It had worked for both of you for a while but there was always this moment, right after catching a quarry, where the silence in the Crest was suffocating. Studying yourself, you start to notice the lines. The weight of this mad dash to quarry after quarry was burning you out and the signs weren't just on your face.

Taking a steadying breath, you clean the dirt off your hands and face. You let your hair fall from it's clasp and change into comfier clothes for the trip. Satisfied with what you see when you glance back in the mirror, you open the door to find Din with his hand raised like he was about to knock.

"Holy shit," you jump a bit at the sight of him so close. "I don't know how you're so damn quiet with all that beskar. How long have you been out here?"

He's quiet for a second, black visor staring into your soul. You'd never seen him without it, although you'd been around him with it off. Always in the dark. Even still, you felt like you knew exactly where his eyes would be as you looked up and into the dark expanse. "Not long," he mumbles, the modulator barely picking up on it.

"What's wrong?" Your face scrunches with worry. He's always quiet, but the way his shoulders are hunched, his hands hanging limp at his sides...

"Are you happy here?"

The question throws you for a loop. "Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?"

"I see how tired you get after capturing a quarry," he says, hands finding your waist, "I know this lifestyle isn't for everyone, isn't what most people dream about growing up..." His voice trails off and he pulls you closer to his body as you wrap your arms around him and rest your head on his torso.

"I didn't have dreams growing up, Din," you say into his chest plate. "I just wanted to survive. And I did. And then I found you. Of course I'm happy.”

He pulls away and gently grabs your chin between his thumb and crooked index finger, angling your face back up toward him. "You don't have to keep things from me."

Does that helmet has some sort of emotional x-ray vision? you think to yourself as you again try to make eye contact through glass and beskar. After a deep breath, you finally respond, "I am happy, I promise. I'm just... Tired. I miss him..." Your throat threatens to close up as tears spring to your eyes and you lean back into Din's chest.

He doesn't have to ask who you mean, he just pulls you in tight and holds you there in the quiet hum of the ship as it flies through hyperspace. After a moment, he shifts out of your embrace and tucks a loose bit of hair behind your ear. "I know what you need," he rumbles, reaching for the light switch.

The room is plunged into darkness, the red glow of buttons and panels casting a warm glow over the silhouettes of cargo and storage. You hear the clicks of Din removing his armor and smile at how familiar you are with the sound now. First, the armor on his chest is undone and he lifts it over his head, followed by the arm braces and then the pieces on his legs. When you hear the final piece fall to the floor, your breath hitches as you hear the hiss of him taking his helmet off. You immediately squeeze your eyes shut, aware of the loophole that Din uses to remove his helmet around you without breaking his Creed. A soft chuckle, unfiltered and beautiful, comes from his lips at your quick inhale, as if he knows your sounds as well as you know his.

"You've never asked to see me with my helmet off, after all this time," he says, stepping close to you again. "Worried about what you'll see?"

"I know what I'll see," you respond. You've dreamt about what he looks like, an image starting to form after countless nights in the dark with your fingertips memorizing every plane and curve of his face and body.

"Oh? And what do you think you'll see?"

There's no hesitation as you whisper, "Kind eyes, brown and depthless... And a smile that outshines the entire galaxy." You notice he's holding his breath, hanging on every word out of your mouth. You push on. "You've got a dimple on your right cheek that gets deeper the bigger you smile, and there are wrinkles around your eyes that betray your stoic, Mandalorian toughness and show just how much you laugh and make faces under that helmet of yours...

"You're beautiful, Din."

More silence fills the hold as you feel his gaze on you in the dark. You reach up to his face and trace over it with feather-light touches. As you brush across his cheek you feel something warm and wet hit your finger. Bringing your other hand up, you wipe away the tears falling silently from his eyes. Then gently, so gently it makes your heart ache, he leans down and kisses you.

Plush lips press softly to yours, his body warm and solid as he pulls you closer and weaves a hand into your hair. Your tongue brushes against his lips in a silent question and he opens them, sweeping his tongue over yours and moaning softly. The sound sparks deep in your core. Your heart begins to race. You reach down to start lifting your shirt when Din stops and grasps your hands.

"Wait."

"What?" You ask, hands stilling in his grip.

"I just..." Din takes a heavy breath, "You've become very important to me. More important than I thought another living being could be after the kid. But if you ever needed to leave, to live a better life than I could give you..."

Silver lines your eyes as you try and decode what he's saying. "Din, do you want me to leave?"

"No, that's not it at all," he fumbles over his words. He's never been much of a talker, especially about his emotions, but he's trying so hard. "I don't want you to miss out on anything because of me." He rests his forehead against yours, a sigh heavy on his lips.

"Would you hate me if I said I think I need a break? That we BOTH need a break? Running from bounty to bounty, never taking a moment to just breathe. We deserve time to relax," you say, leaning into his touch. "We deserve time for US."

"How about this: after we drop the quarries off with Karga, we take a break? Find a city with some fancy hotel and stay there for a bit?" You hear a smile in his voice as he describes all the things you could do it that hotel room, just how long the two of you could spend there without leaving and without getting bored. A giggle bubbles from your chest, Din's own laughter joining yours. He wraps you in his arms, resting his chin on your head, breath ruffling your hair as he exhales. "I never laughed like this before you. I don't want to lose you."

"So you won't," you reply, nuzzling closer to his chest. "The only place I'm going is that hotel you were telling me about. What else could we do there, Mandalorian?"

His laughter fills the room again, the rich timbre settling over your bones like a velvet blanket. "Let me show you what I had in mind," he whispers into your ear as he lowers you both gently to the blanket-covered ground.

[eyoisb]

Random ppl:os thoughts (spoilers maybe)

The scene where the sheriff was getting he*d from an underage boy???

The girls all getting detention with no actual evidence was such bullshit. Is there absolutely no cameras in the school that's a bit ridiculous (or convenient idk) but they have the budget for a school nurse? (I'm from Europe and we don't have school nurses)

Imogen being (I think) 15 and pregnant like??? Is there a pedophile walking around the town or is he in high school. Him being mentioned once in passing is a bit nuts.

Tabby secretly filming the guys locker room wtf?? Very odd weirdo behaviour. (Not that this would be an excuse but she never mentioned she was working on a project so wtf is it for) I imagine her laptop is going to be taken either by A or the police and what she has is chxld pxrnography right?

The flash drive that tabby currently has hasn't been viewed by the girls my guess is that the Karen footage isn't there are it's something else. It's a small town and my guess is that everyone shops at the Same stores so she might have picked up a different flash drive from wes' house

Also this show is meant to be steeped in reality. And the girls are meant to be gen z.... I fear our generation films everything would you not have filmed the weirdo figure that's literally stalking and start compiling evidence.

Tabby and wes should have ran that A character with their car instead of starting and naming films like girl is you're really about it you would have given A a tap so that you could later identify them in broad day light. (I guess they couldn't have done this bc plot but still)

Would love that there would be enough thought being put into this show to show the school gradually getting messier in the following episodes to show that the janitors not doing his job to leading up to finding the body.

The school ballet teacher (??) gives absolut weirdo vibes. Her veiled threat to Faran about her scoliosis... Odd. Also I feel like she might have gone to school with the original sinners though Faran's mom didnt seem to know her when she got Faran reinstated.

Also I felt like the directing was a bit one note. The creators said that this show was going to be highly stylised...... But I always felt the director always went for the obvious choice. I really don't think direction wise it does look and feel like the mid 2000s teen dramas. I was expecting something fresher than that I fear dutch angles aren't revolutionary.

All in all I thought it was to be expected but I wasn't hooked I heard from people that got early access that it doesn't hook you in until episode 5...which is a little bit crazy.

Bc in this day an age every two weeks an excellent show gets dropped so having to wait 5 episodes to be drawn into a show is a bit nuts. And not being hooked after dropping 3 episodes is a bit disappointing. These are just my thoughts.