#planet of fire my beloved

[buildoblivionthenwewilltalk]

cheer up turlough you’re on holiday

[englandhatepage]

i don’t think that’s how you fly a tardis

[gaeasun]

Someone stop me I'm tormenting the blorbo :(

[greatshell-rider]

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[rosieofcorona]

All We Do Not Say

Hi beloveds! I have crafted a soft little Gale fic for you because it's my firm belief that everyone's favorite wizard deserves all the warmth in the world. 😌 Also on AO3, if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading. 💕

There was a time in his life that Gale could sleep anywhere, provided he had a good book and a space to sit down. 

In Waterdeep, he might wake in his armchair or on his balcony with the weight of an ancient tome still resting in his lap, or at his desk, his cheek pressed against parchment. The smell of it, of ink and lignin, would bring him back to his senses before his eyes were fully open, and he’d recall what he’d been studying, and begin reading again. 

At home, in his tower, he could do this night after night and still feel mostly rested come morning. 

But he is far from his tower, and farther each day.

Perhaps it is the orb that keeps him up as of late, with its insatiable, unnatural hunger, or perhaps it is the tadpole that wriggles and pulses impatiently inside his skull. Or it could, he supposes, be the simpler and less curable matter of aging– an affliction that seems, on occasion, more frightening than either of the others. 

Whatever the cause of his recent insomnia, it pulls Gale into a rather distressing cycle– he cannot sleep, so he cannot focus, so he cannot read, so he cannot sleep. 

Instead, he finds himself offering to keep watch over camp in the evenings, if only for the distraction. The far-off gibbering of a newborn gnoll, the crunch of foliage under goblin feet, an animal scream– each night a fresh and distant horror calls his mind away from greater threats, from illithids and tadpoles and gods.

It’s an odd remedy, he knows. But the alternative is lying awake in his tent, turning death over and over in his mind until the thought is worn smooth as a river stone. 

It works well for a time, keeps his mind on the present and off of some vague, future doom.

That is, at least, until they reach the Underdark. 

Deep beneath Faerûn, there is something profoundly disturbing about the lack of…well, everything. They find no grand cities or quaint little villages, few animals and even fewer people. 

No trees, no light. No sky. 

Most nights spent underground are so quiet that Gale may as well stay in his bedroll, staring up at a canopy of fabric, dark as the velvet earth above them. 

He thinks, It is like being buried alive, without even the stars to bear witness. 

On these nights he can feel the stones in his head turning over.

Even so, come the evening (or what he guesses is evening), Gale volunteers to stand sentinel for the fifth time in a tenday. 

He always asks them after dinner, when his companions are most likely to agree, after his cooking has warmed them and filled their bellies and made them want nothing more than to close their eyes and dream of somewhere, anywhere else. 

Tav is the only one who protests with any frequency, the only one who seems to notice that the circles under his eyes are half a shade darker than they were yesterday, when they were half a shade darker than the day before. 

Even on nights when she convinces someone else to take his place, he will relieve them after Tav has gone to sleep. 

It starts the same way every time. 

Gale walks the perimeter in an infinite loop, looking for life in the darkness, illuminated only by the fire in the center of their camp. It makes him feel like a distant planet, nearly untouched by the sun. How strange to think that he’d once felt like the sun itself. 

He continues in his orbit until the subterranean cold gnaws at his limbs. It bites down hard on his nose and ears and fingers, chases him back to the fire, back to the light. 

Hypnotized by the flames and their radiant warmth, he does not hear the quiet stirring in the tent beyond his own, doesn’t hear the soft approach of nimble feet. 

A voice comes to him out of the darkness.

“I hope you’re not keeping watch again.” 

“Mystra,” Gale gasps, startled, the goddess’s name invoked in equal parts a prayer, a curse.

“Forgive me,” Tav says, through a laugh she cannot help. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” If it were anyone else he might be annoyed, or even a little embarrassed– but the sound of her laughter bubbles like seafoam over sand, rushes over and around him. Coupled with the relief that she is not some dreadful creature of the Underdark, he finds it difficult to feel anything besides affection. 

“It’s quite alright,” he recovers, with a shake of his head. “You surprised me, that’s all.”

“Then I really hope you’re not keeping watch.” 

She is teasing him now, just lightly, a familiar spark of warmth behind her eyes. 

It is the same look she gives him when she brings him a new book, or when he cooks for her, or when he tells her about Waterdeep. It is the same look she gave him earlier in the day, when she had offered to brew him a tea that might help him to sleep.

Gale has trouble remembering the last time another looked at him this way, so interested and inviting and earnest. 

Perhaps, he thinks, another never has. 

“Are you alright?” Tav asks, when he’s been quiet for too long.  

“Of course,” he says with the sincerity of a promise, offered with a smile that he hopes will be convincing. “Just lost in thought.” 

There is a part of him that doesn’t want to leave it there, that wants to share his every thought with her, his every terror, every dream. She must know that there is more to it, must’ve learned by now to recognize when Gale isn’t telling her everything, but he is grateful that she doesn’t press him, never presses him. 

Instead she breaks into a grin and says, “You’re lucky I’m not a bulette.” 

“I’m lucky they’re not so light-footed. What are you doing up, anyway?”

“The cold always wakes me, sooner or later,” Tav sighs. “If I’d known it was so godsdamned frigid down here, I might’ve nicked a fur or two from the Zhent.” 

It’s Gale’s turn to laugh, though she’s only half-joking. 

She’s drawn near to him, to the flames, her palms outstretched, her fingers spread wide as if to grab hold of as much warmth as possible. 

“But it’s alright,” she continues, “So as long as I’m close to the fire.” 

“Any closer and you’ll be in it, I’m afraid. Perhaps I can help.” 

Tav tilts her head and quirks an eyebrow in a curious little expression. “Can you?”

“If you’ll allow me.” 

Gale turns to face her fully, and she mirrors him out of instinct. 

“Hold out your hands to me,” he says. “Palms together, just barely. Like you’re praying.” 

“Like this?” “Like that.” 

The spell is one his mother taught him, among the first he’d ever learned. 

He still remembers that winter in Waterdeep, when the snow fell hard and fast. When the ice in the harbor kept the ships at arm’s length and the frozen streets shone like glass. He was young then, six or seven, but even now he can feel his small hands in Morena’s, warmed by a word and a touch. 

Warm and fed, she used to tell him. That’s how you show someone they’re loved. 

Gale cages Tav’s hands lightly in his own, the way he might hold a butterfly. He pushes all thoughts of winter away and calls to mind the rippling heat of summer, an orchard grown fat with peaches, the silvery shimmer of sweat on skin. 

The rose-petal flush of a cheek cradled in a hand, her cheek, his hand…

“Calor aestas,” he says quietly, when the image comes into clear view. He feels the cold melt from her fingers, hears the comfortable sigh that follows. “Better?”

“Yes,” she murmurs. “Much.” 

She is looking at him now with an intensity he has not seen since the night he first showed her the Weave, all that time ago. The night he saw her thoughts laid bare, had all but felt her lips on his. 

Had she seen them now, the visions he had conjured? Had she felt him pull her close in his own mind?

Tav clears her throat softly and he comes back to himself, his heartbeat thrashing wildly in his chest. He realizes with some urgency that he has not let her go and pulls back suddenly, but not without reluctance. 

“I hope,” he swallows, trying to compose himself. “I hope it helps you sleep.” 

“Do you want me to stay up with you?”

Yes, he thinks selfishly, Yes. Stay up with me, stay close to me, always. 

He shakes his head instead. “You should rest while the spell holds.”

“And how long is that?”

“As long as I’m able to concentrate.” 

He will think of her hands and their pull on a bowstring, their pluck of a lyre, their grip on a sword. How they weave her own magic, how they cradle a book. How they felt clasped in his, soft and cold. 

A focus worth holding, at last. 

“Only if it’s no trouble,” she says. 

“None at all.” 

Gale is grateful that he manages to stop himself, for once, from saying the rest of the thought as it enters his head. I would think of you anyway, magic or no.  

Tav takes his hand in hers again, this time to squeeze it fondly.

For a moment, he feels that if he were to die just now– from the orb, from the tadpole, in the jaws of a hungry bulette– it would all have been worth it, for this. 

“Thank you, Gale.”

Her smile is warmer than any summer he remembers, brighter than any star he can name.

[my-heart-beat-for-anime]

HEIRESS OF FIRE AND BLOOD

Pt.1

I hope you like it

In 131 AC, a bloody war was fought between the divided Targaryen house, at the end of the war, the daughter of the previous queen Rheanyra took the throne, the girl tried to return the whole kingdom to peace and tranquility. Unfortunately, the peace that the new queen tried to establish did not last long, as the greedy eyes of a powerful man focused on this very planet. And Harkonnen always got what he wanted.

The kingdom was recovering from a bloody dragon war, and all eyes were on the new dragon queen, Learys Targaryen. The young, barely nine and ten -year-old girl has already proven herself as a strong leader of armies, but also as a protector of the innocent in the cities, which were attacked by the green armies. Although she was a beloved ruler and wanted queen, she did not smile unless she was in the presence of the rest of her family. She kept her brother and cousin close by her side, refusing to let them out of her sight. Many servants recall how the young Prince Aegon sought comfort in her arms when the night terrors seemed all too real, or when the queen was found braiding little Jeaheara's hair into an intricate hairdo which she then decorated with flowers, it was also a rare case, when even the little princess smiled. Although many advisors recommended that Jeaheara be taken away from Kingslanding, the queen retorted firmly that the house of the dragon would no longer be divided according to the past war and that she would not send a daughter to suffer for the sins of her father.,, Jeaheara is of my blood and will therefore remain by my side where she will be granted shelter and welcome.” announced the queen to settle the issue once and for all.

 The peace that the kingdom needed was disturbed by the arrival of three harkonnen warships, which like shooting stars fell to the surface of the planet, which the ruthless na-baron was tasked to conquering and adding to his uncle's empire.

"My queen," the guard rushed into the gardens and called for the queen, who was trying to convince her little listeners that she had really flown to the sun on her dragon. "What's the rush?" asked the queen with tension in her voice.,, Three harkonnen warships are approaching, lord hand wishes to discuss strategy in the throne room.",,Take the children to one of their rooms and keep them inside." she ordered in a commanding tone as she made her way to the throne room with her guards.

 Once seated on her throne, the Queen was presented with information that Harkonnens are about to land near Storms End, and that from the equipment they were carrying, it looked like they were ready for war.,, When will they land Grandsire” she asked her grandfather and the lord hand, Corlys Velaryon.,, Over the next three hours." the girl just nodded and then shouted at the guard.,, "Prepare my dragon." The guard just bowed down and rushed to fulfill his order.,, Your Grace you can't be serious, you can't..” began one of the lords but was immediately silenced.,,I am the queen, and as queen I will protect this kingdom with my life. My dragon is the fastest and strongest in the kingdom. We will end it with the Harkonnen as quickly as possible so that they do the least amount of damage and there is no one to change that because if they try to take this planet they will meet nothing but fire and blood.” the queen finished her battle speech.,, Now if excuse me my lords, I must go prepare for battle.” All the men in unison bowed to the departing woman and lowered their eyes to the floor in respect to her.

Learysa was fitting the last piece of her war riding armor when there was a knock on her chamber door. Thinking that it is her servant, the queen gives permission to come inside. What she didn't expect, however, was her brother with tears in his eyes. "What happened my sweet boy?" his sister asked him. Instead of words the young prince ran into her arms where he nestled like a little bird. "I don't want you to go, I don't want to lose you like the rest of our family ." Aegon cried. Learysa gently stroked his hair and whispered to him,, You will never lose me my little dragon, I will always come back to you, but right now I really need you to stay with Jeaheara and take care of her, would, you do this for me my brave knight.” The prince just snorts and nods. The siblings share a last moment before a servant comes in to say the dragon is ready.

 Feyd-rautha had just been informed that contact would be made with the planet's surface in ten minutes. He couldn't wait for his new blade to taste new blood. He looked forward to the conquest, war and bloodshed as he planned. There was no way the little princess who called herself queen would manage to get an army together. This planet was theirs. Just as his planning was peaking the ship landed and the na-baron rushed forward to start the whole thing. However, he did not expect that when the door of the ship opened, that the only one figure would be waiting for him. He didn't even count on the fact that he wouldn't be fighting against a princess or a queen, but against a fucking dragon.

[theblueflower05]

Heavy In Your Arms

A/N: We didn't get enough time at High Camp. I swear, it was the perfect setting for hurt/comfort. Forever upset about it.

Word Count: 5.5K

Warnings: Explicit smut. Aged Up characters. Talks of PTSD and war. Injuries. Blood. Angst. Cursing. Oral Sex(male receiving). Riding. Service Top Neteyam. Reader with a praise kink.

Summary: You and Neteyam find moments of peace during the war. Neteyam x Fem! Omaticaya Reader

I was a heavy heart to carry,

My beloved was weighted down.

My arms around his neck,

My fingers laced a crown- Florence & The Machine

Life can change in an instant.

One moment, things are as they have always been. Your existence a well loved pattern, easy and comfortable in the Forests of Pandora.

You had been born after the Long War, after the evil Tawtute had been sent back to their dying planet. You had only ever known peace and kind humans like the scientist that lived in the rickety out post. You’d only ever known the rich and abundant rule of Toruk Makto, Jake led your people to victory and prosperity. The Omatikayan Village had been a beautiful one to grow up in, colorful and cheerful and thriving despite all that it had endured.

Your days had been filled with community and childlike wonder.

That had all changed when the Sky People returned. When they set fire to the Forests just to watch the Great Mother bleed.

Your naivety had been stolen, snatched away by uncontrollable circumstances.

By war.

High Camp is nestled deep within the Ayram Alusing hidden in a twisting impenetrable cave system.

It is bustling and busy and just bit cramped.

The Omatikaya are a resilient people and even through forceful uprooting had managed to make due of the space given. The Stronghold is littered with Canvas tents and woven mats. Small burning fires, and a larger one for the communal meals that are so desperately needed after long days battle.

You spend most of your time in the main healers keklu, working tirelessly with Mo’at and the other medicine leaders. You’d never been much of a healer, always more of a story teller. You’d get lost in the tales of old, in the songs of the ancient ones, but since the invasion, most had honed their medical craft.

It was all hands on deck, wherever you could be helpful you would be.

It’s good. Keeping your hands full is a good thing. It helps to distract your restless mind.

The War Party had left early in the morning- the sun still hiding behind the shadow of the eclipse, and had still not returned yet. You fear that it might be one of those missions, the kind that lasts days and leaves the village in shambles as they wait for the return of the warriors.

You’re grinding Ti’ku’klu seeds into a fine paste, your arm tired as you stare wordlessly into nothing.

The healers tent is quiet, filled with only low chatter and the crackling of the fire, the boiling of the pot that contains a potent medicine. One that needs to be kept hot and steaming. You cant seem to be present, to keep up with conversation when your mind is so far away- soaring over the forest. Focused on the unseen battle

This would be a dangerous one, you’d heard the whispers of the people. The humans were growing sick of the raids. They had heavy precautions laid out- would kill any Na’vi on sight. You trusted your Olo’eyktan whole heartedly, truly, you did.

But the thought of having to lay any more of your brothers and sisters to rest made bile raise in your throat like acid. There had been so much death, so much loss.

You sneak a peek at the woman next to you as she works in sorting bandages.

Zephya is only a few years older than you- and yet the light seems to be gone from her eyes. Dimmed down to something small and wilting. You’d never forget the piercing sound of her cries, echoing off the rock cave walls as her munxatan’s (husbands) body was brought back from the last raid.

Another round of nauseating anxiousness churns in your stomach.

You dont know if you could survive it…

Would you be forced to? Would this war force you to watch the ones you loved die?

The thought of losing your own lover is enough to send you free falling. Spiraling into your own mind.

“That is quite enough” Mo’at tuts her tongue in your direction and you stare at her with a wide, almost guilty expression. Had the Tsahik heard your thoughts? Sometimes you didnt doubt the elderly woman could, with all of her boundless knowledge and those all knowing amber eyes “You will destroy the paste, it is not meant to be so thin”

“Oh” you feel like dunce as you look down at the mortar and pestle in your hand “I apologize, I just wanted to make sure it was well mixed”

“Hmm” she doesn't call your bluff “Why dont you take a break. Go find more herbs, the fresh air wll clear your head. You’re no used to me here with thoughts so loud”

Her words are casual but her gaze is knowing and warm and you nod eagerly “Of course, Tsahik”

You’re happy for the break and the opportunity to stretch your legs, you stand quickly and exit the incense heavy area.

Everyone has gotten good at pretending.

At pretending they’re not terrified, at trying to go on with any semblance of normalcy. The scientists still gather near their trailers, facemasks on and typing away at holo tablets. The karyus’ still teach the younglings, their little giggles can be heard in the distance. You smile, a very practiced mask, at any you pass. Are pleasant. Friendly. Not betraying the inner turmoil you feel-

You’re jostled out of the heavy thoughts.

Nearly rushed straight on your ass, more like it.

“Oof-” the wind is knocked out of you as a small but solid weight collides with your side. You look down and find big golden eyes string up at you- golden eyes so familiar.

“Y/N! Hi!” Tuktirey is the youngest Sully, and probably the one you’ve always been the cloestst to. Back home, years ago, she’d become a bit enamored with you. More specifically, you’re weaving and jewelry crafting skills. Many teased that she was your shadow. “Look, look’it what I made”

You cant help but grin. Her joyful energy is contagious and you’re glad for the distraction. You take the necklace she shoves into your face delicately. Run your fingers over the rows of mis matched beads. She really is quite good.

“Very pretty, Tuk. You’re getting so good! Soon you;ll take my place- the whole clan will be trampling over themselves to wear one of your pieces” You’re words make her blush, make the smile on her face go a bit shy and bashful.

She looks so much like her brother it hurts.

“I did that thing you showed me! You’re right- sometimes the bigger beads need the little ones to anchor them”

Tuk is rarely quiet, always a babbling brook but even she isnt immune to the tense atmosphere that looms, to the toretoure that is waiting for the warriors to return. She talks about the necklace, but her tail flicks nervously behind her. At her side, a carved wooden Toruk toy hangs in her loose grip.

You figure, maybe you can distract her too.

You reach for the toy and she holds tight to it before sighing. You’re probably going to take it, she thinks. Tell her to stop being annoying. Chastise her the way that others had when she’d tried to get them to play with her. All day long, everyone had turned their heads or sighed in annoyance when she’d approached-

You raise the wooden Toruk above her head- and let out an undignified squawk. Your best impression of the mighty beast. It’s dismal, but it seems to satisfy the little girl who instantly breaks out into giggles.

“You better run, Tuk Tuk” you grown payfully, sending the toy into a nosedive “Before I eat you whole”

She shrieks and sets out running in the opposite direction and take after her, ignoring the stares. Should you be back in the medicine tent helping? Maybe. You’d rather play with the seven year old instead.

The two of you play for a while, until your thighs burn and your lungs hurt from laughing. You dont have the endurance of a child, she runs absolute circles around you. She’s fast and agle and quite obviously takes Neytiri’s lessons to heart, even at her young age. You can only use your size to you’re advantage, picking her writing squirming body up and spinning her round-

The horn is loud and echos through the rock walls of the cavernous case.

Both yours and Tuk’s ears swivel, perk up and stand to attention.

There it is. The calls of your people. The sounds of ikran wings flapping.

Tuk writhes in your hold, the back of her head connecting with your lip painfully as she hollers joyfully “They’re back!”

Shes off then, only sparing you a quick glance as you seem to stand there in daze, rubbing your slightly split lip lightly as your stomach does somersaults.

“Come on!” The little one hollers back at you and your feet carry you forward, seemingly of their own volition.

The crowds are building as the people make their way for the edge, where ikrans land by the dozen. Carrying the warriors on their back. Along the way, Kiri and Spider join you. Eagerly bouncing along, following an over animated Tuk.

Excitement and dread bubbles in your stomach, a horribly potent and toxic mix. It’s always like this when they return. When he returns. You’re so anxious to see him, physically there. Alive. So anxious that he might not be-

Your eyes are peeled for the familiar swirling green and blue patterns of Atanzaw, his ikran.

“Mom!” Tuk screeches, of course she spots them first.

Your eyes follow her,

Straight to him.

Neteyam.

He dismonts his ikran, alot less gracefully then his mother did. His actions sluggish and unlike him- it only takes you a moment to notice how injured he is. The bleeding wounds and bruises that litter his body arent pretty and hes limping, not putting his full weight on his right thigh. His face in smeared war paint- blacks and yellows and greens. They make him look intense, as he stangs tall and muscular and still fully dressed in his tsamsiyu(warrior)garb.

When his gaze meets yours your breath gets stuck in your throat.

Usually when he returns they’re bright. The adrenalin of the fight still cursing through his veins like wildfire- this time thats drained. His eyes are filled with barley concealed dread. Sharp with pain.

Your fingers itch and your chest aches, the invisible string that ties you to him taught. You want nothing more then to go to him-

“Sully’s, fall in” Jake’s voice is booming and stern. All Olo’eyktan. Marine. War leader. You can barley recognize him like this. So far away from the carefree doting father he’d always been.

-Its a small thing. A barely there shake of Netryam’s head but it sends a clear message. He doesn't want you to approach. When he turns away from you, giving you the necessary but cold shoulder your unsettled stomach lurches.

It’s like it plays out in slow motion, you watch the family from the edge. An outsider. Not welcome in their obviously private conversation. Even Spider, a human, get’s to be closer than you do.

You’re unwelcome.

The heated words. The way that Jake scolds his sons, you’re not supposed to be privy to it.

“Jesus, I let you two geniuses lead a fleet and you disobeyed direct orders!”

Those words hurt you, for him. You know that they must peirce right through Neteyam. He still hasnt looked back in your direction and you are sure he doesnt want you to bare witness to any of it.

You slink away, slowly falling back. Fading into the background of loved ones reuniting. Warriors returning, alive and dead. The clan welcoming them back with open arms. You wish, as you so often do, that you could welcome Neteyam the same. That you could run into his arms. Hold him the way you ache to after these difficult and dangerous missions-

You convince yourself that you are content with just knowing that he is alive, and make your way back to the healers tent where your presence is wanted.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It gets so cold in the mountains. Frigidly so.

The wind whips through the caves, leaving a bone deep chill in their wake. You keep the fire at the center of your tent going all night long, and can normally be found crouching at it’s hearth. It’s been raining on and off all day, torrential down pour to drizzles- from the sound it seems as though it has finally stopped. Quieted down.

You wonder if the sky is clear and the stars are bright. You miss climbing high into the trees after the evening eclipse. Miss gazing at the constellations, miss basking in the Pandoran night and listening to the sound of the forests.

Mo’at had sent you home, demanding you get some sleep.

It had been three days since the soldiers had returned and they had been very busy. Full of tending to the wounded, and organizing for the dead. You’d thrown yourself headfirst into anytask that was given to you. Kept yourself busy. Useful.

You didnt have the time to mope and obsess over a man that was not yours.

That is what you told yourself at least.

This…thing that you and Neteyam shared didn't have a name or a definition. It had started out of loneliness, out of the desperation for comfort. Before the humans had come back and brought their war upon the clan, you dont think the future Olo’eyktan had ever really looked at you twice. Violence and hurt had pushed you into eachothers arms, both of you seeking companionship. Someone to weather the storm with.

It wasnt love. Not to him, you know that. He would marry a woman with high standing one day- one that could be his match. Become Tsahik.

That wouldnt be you.

For Eywa’s sake, you could barely do stitches. You messed up simple tasks like making salves. You would not delude yourself into thinking it was anything more. Many Na’vi couple without mating, pleasure isn't stigmatized in your community. That was all it was. A need for pleasure. Your body satiates him and that is all.

You cant go looking for him. Begging for his time or his touch.

So you sit by your fire, thread your necklaces, and long for the stars.

You’re humming a tune to yourself, something soft and gentle and melodic when theres a sudden shift. The canvas wall of your tent shakes and your stiffen, reaching for your knife that lies on the makeshift table next to your bed-

Neteyam slips through the flap- easy as anything. Smoothly, his motions fluid from all of those years of training.

Your eyes and mouth are wide open, ears lying low to your head.

“Hi” the man grins, boyish and handsome as ever.

As though he hadnt just broken into your home. It’s not like the two of you hadnt done this before, he’d spend many nights sneakily tucked inside your tent but he usually came through the front entrance.

“Vonva!(asshole)”you hiss at him, exasperated “You- ugh! I couldve stabbed you!”

He’s so handsome it makes you sick. He’s so tall and broad, a few of his braids falling into his face as his eyes sparkle with mirth “That would not be very nice of you, what have I done to deserve such a fate?”

“Breaking and entering is grounds for stabbing” you huff “you scared me!”

Neteyam steps forward a bit, hands out stretching to you, tone gentle “Hey, I didnt mean to scare you. I just wanted to see you is all, Im sorry”

You hate the way that you’re so easy for him. He ignores you for days, and then shows up unannounced and you’re jumping at any and all attention he may give you.

The way that as his large hands engulf the tops of your arms, you lean into his touch greedily.

“It’s fine. It's just- very late. I wasn't expecting anyone” you try to keep your tone even “I was actually about to go to bed”

“Oh?” Neteyam wonders, his tail flicking behind him “Can I join you?”

Your heart speeds up, if thats even possible. Both at his words and his tone. The insinuation right there. He had spent too much time in your bed that really, it shouldn't be a question. You'd always welcomed him into your nest of blankets, your warm arms. In between your soft thighs-

“I'm not sure that would be a good idea” you respond, stepping out of his hold.

Neteyam sags a bit, surprised. His ears swivel and his smile weans, tugging downwards at the corners of his full lips “Not a good idea? Why not?”

You shrug, not able to look directly at him. Instead focusing on his shoulders. His abdomen. He’s still all banged up, the bandaging covering his bruises are expertisley wrapped. Done by the Tsahik herself, obviously.

It’s the perfect excuse.

“You’re still hurt,” you insist ”You need to be careful, you don't want to reopen anything”

A smooth chuckle escapes him and makes a tingle run down your spine. He reaches out again, this time he grabs at your hand, leading it from its place awkwardly at your side to his chest. Pressing your palm gently against his warm skin.

“I'd like to stay with you tonight, if you’ll let me” Neteyam starts, you can feel the vibrations of his strong voice in your palm, pressed against the muscle “I may need you to be a little bit gentle with me though, paskalin”

You're quiet, lips quirked, stuck in your head for a moment as your fingers lightly trace over one of his stripes.

“Y/N, hey-” He seems to be more serious than before as he urges you to look at him “I'm not sure what’s wrong, but If you want me to go I will”

Everything in your body, your soul, protests at his words. There is no part of you that wants him to leave.

You’re being so stupid.

Neteyam could have anyone. Anyone. And he’s here, with you. So what if he doesnt love you. You have to take whatever you can get. You dont want him to find solace with anyone else, dont want him to leave and never return-

You lean in, where your hand is, on his strong chest and place a kiss to the edge of the bandaging. Its a small little thing, a barley there brush of your lips but still. When you look up at him through your lashes you know you must make quite the sight.

“Stay” you urge. “I want you to stay with me tonight,” everynight. ”Please?”

He looks unsure for just a moment, clearly thrown off by your conflicting mood, before he nods. He cups the side of your face then, forcing you to make eye contact with him. No matter how uncomfortably intense- you cant turn away.

“Can I kiss you?” His words make you quake. He hadnt asked, so explicitly, for months. Since the two of you were still fumbly and newly exploring eachothers bodies.

It makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, makes you giddiously nervous. You nod, way too hard “Mhmm”

And then he’s bending down, having to crouch because of how much taller he is, to capture your lips with his own.

Its always so good.

His mouth and the way it tastes and the way it makes you feel. Neteyam seems so sweet, everyone in the clan knows him as the Golden Boy. The perfect soldier- in privacay, in these stolen moments of intimacy, he’s anything but.

His kisses are dirty, all demanding tongue and nipping fangs. He kisses like a man whos trying to get his dick wet. Like he wants to pick you up, crush you to him. Rut into you-

And normally he would. Normally he tosses you around like nothing but a child’s ragdoll(and you let him), but he’s still hurt. Still tender and healing. When you wrap your arms around his shoulders and tug, trying to climb him like a tree, he hisses in pain,.

“Shit” you pull away from his mouth, your lips wet with his saliva “Sorry, I didnt mean to”

He just shakes his head, nuzzling at your cheek “It’s fine, I’m okay”

“Im hurting you” you argue.

“You’re not. Just- be gentle, okay?” Neteyam urges, trying to lean back into the kiss “Grandmother thinks they’ll heal quickly, but my ribs-” he breaks himself off, laughing a little strained. “I fucked them up pretty good”

You frown.

He always does this. Always downplays his pain. You will have none of it, you grab his hand and tug “Come, I will make you tea”

Neteyams hairless brows raise “You dont have to, I’m really fine”

“Bah” you lead him to your bed and push gently on his shoulders until he sits. “Enough, it is no trouble”

You keep an ornate clay kettle next to the fire, boiling water always ready. He watches you as you fiddle with the many little jars in your arsenal, collecting herbs here and there. Steeping them in the hot water before pouring him a steaming cup.

“Here- it is bitter, but it will dull the pain”

Neteyam accepts the tea with a small smile “Irayo(thank you)”

It’s nice having him in your space. In your bed amongst all of your softest things as the fire crackles and illuminates the tent in a warm glow.

The shadows it casts over his angular face make him look haunting. So beautiful.

You like to take care of things. Instruments. Broken pottery. Children. It comes naturally to you.

You dote on him even though he protests, check his bandages and make him drink the whole cup of strong leaf tea, before he lies down. You're perched beside him, still on the edge of the bed mat.

“I didn't come here to be nursed, Y/N” he sighs as you rub salve on one of his nastier bruises.

“Humor me” you reply wryly, your dainty fingers all over him.

It takes him a while to relax, as it always does.

But oh, its your favorite thing.

Watching his walls come down and the facade of Olo’eyktan in training slip. Neteyam is funny and witty and a downright gossip. You enjoy talking to him as much as you enjoy getting fucked by him.

You like that when given the opportunity and the ear to do so; he loves to talk. About any and everything. His deep voice is like a blanket, warming you up from the inside out.

“I feel bad. I sneak in here; scare you and then make you take care of me” He snorts, “You must be so sick of me”

“No” you reassure with gentle touches “Never that”

You dont really know what Neteyam sees in you.

You’re pretty enough- but far from the gorgeous warriors and dancers that throw themselves at him. But when he looks at you, like he is now, you know there must be something. Something that turns those eyes of his to molten amber. They’re hungry, you’ve never seen him look at anything the way he looks at you. Except maybe the prey that ends up victim to his arrows.

He makes you want to be good to him. Be good for him.

“I enjoy taking care of you” you whisper as you trace the leather cords of his tweng, your fingertips dipping dangerously below them. “Can I take care of you tonight, Neteyam? You want me to?”

Neteyam nods slowly, making room for you as you climb carefully over him. Spread his legs enough for you to settle between them.

You cant help it, cant help how much you touch. You cant get enough of the feeling of his strong body under your hands. All of that corded muscle, all of his pretty deep tahini speckled skin. His strong calves, his well built thighs.

When you reach where he’s hard, straining against his cloth, his eyes flutter closed. You rub him until he chubs up, all plump and hard. Until a patch of wetness starts to darken the cloth-

“Help me a little, sayrip(handsome)”you urge as you tug on the strings of his tweng. Neteyam lifts his slim hips, helps you shimmy it down his thighs-

You’ve seen him naked more times then you can count, now. But still. You’re always struck by it.

His cock springs free- thuds against his well toned lower stomach. Drooling and pulsing, the tanhi there exceptionally bright. He’s so pretty, so vulnerable that it goes to your head. Your leaning in, tongue first-

“Wait,” Neteyam gruffs, “I want to see you too”

Ah.

Neteyam was very partial to your body. He’d told you many times- would try to wrangle you out of your skirt whenever he got the chance.

You smile, raising up on your knees before tugging the gossamer top off, over your head, Your nipples are hard and peaked, reacting to the cold. You run your fingertips over them, knowing that he likes a show. He likes to watch. He props himself, arm behind his head as he does so, it feels so lewd to play with your breasts for him. To trail your hands slowly down your tummy, to your full hips- tugging on the strings of your own tweng.

When the mound of your pussy is revealed he groans, he can see the way your slick shines in the low fire light.

“Good Mother” Neteyam’s rough and demanding as he yanks on you, pulls you into a kiss “You’re so fucking sexy”

His kiss is fervent and you could so easily lose yourself to them- you know what he wants. He’s already inching closer to your hot wet slit, his big fingers kneading at your plush asscheeks.

“Lemme take care of you” your mumble is insistent, and he sighs. Letting you pull away. Letting you re situate yourself between his legs.

He just lays back flat once more, a lazy grin on his face. “Okay, baby. Take care of me”

You’d always loved giving pleasure with your mouth, and lovers you’d had before had told you how good you were at it. You liked the taste and feel of a heavy cock on your tongue.

With Neteyam, as everything seems to be, it’s different. You dont just like giving him head, you love it.

You love the way that he jerks when you give his rosy tip that first little lick. You love the salty tang of his precum, so much that you spread it all over. Your lips, your cheeks. You rub his cock along your face, nuzzling it. Your cheeks, chin and nose wet with him. You love the way it stretches your lips as you take him into your mouth- he’s the biggest you’ve ever had and it pushes you to your limit. The hinge of your jaw aching as you force him down your throat.

“You’re such a good girl for me” Neteyam praises you, all choppy. His long fingers tangled in your waist length hair.

That is what you adore the most.

The Omaticayan prince is so vocal. He’s all whimpery moans and deep gritty groans. He lets you know exactly what he likes and doesn't like. And he rains down praise on you like its his job.

You’re his good girl. His sweet berry. His little whore..

You take it so well. So- ah- determined for him. You ram him down your tight convulsing throat ,until you’re sobbing around his dick. Never trying to pull away. Eager to get him off.

It is the most shameful position you’ve ever been put in. You’re addicted to the way that me makes you feel- you could never allow yourself to be this with anyone else.

“I-Im close” He warns as though that's not exactly what you want.

“Good” you hum, before diving back in. Suckling on the head and the sensitive sides of his shaft over and over. Just like you know he likes it.

It doesn't take long at all, you can feel him twitching n your mouth. His balls, so full and swollen, start to pull up, taught and ready to blow.

“Oh fuck, Y/N. Fuck”

He gasps as he knots his fingers at your scalp, as he holds on for dear life, his hips swiveling madly. His belly concaving with his heaving, rapid breaths as as his orgasm rips through him.

It’s a good one. You can tell. He’s biting his lips bloody and grinding his head back into your pillows, eyes tightly closed as he rides the waves of pleasure. The whole time, he fists your hair, holding your face to his crotch.

You take his cum, all of it. Popping the tip on your mouth and catching the thick spurts with your tongue. He tastes so good, it feels so intimate to get to have him like this. You close your eyes and savor it, dont pull off until he's twitching and whining with over sensitivity.

You sit back on your haunches, wiping your messy mouth clean with the back of your hand and assessing the damage.

Neteyam is all shivery, his arm thrown over his face as he comes down from the high. He’s still struggling to catch his breath and you cant help the pride that

“You feeling any better, baby?” the human term of affection rolls off your lips, smug and sultry and he laughs behind his arm.

It takes a few moments, but he finally collects himself “You are way too good at that” he’s told you before, but repeats it as he pulls you close. You’re perched in his lap, his strong arms around your waist as he holds you close.

“I like watching you” you admit between the pecking kisses “I like the way you come”

He smiles into your mouth, you can feel his sharp canines on your lips “That’s my good girl”

You full body shiver at the praise, gritting your forehead against his and breathing through your nose in an attempt not to lose it. You're gushing between your legs, your thighs a sticky mess and your cunt swollen and blood hot.

“Your turn, huh? Come on, I know that pussy has to be needy. You want me to eat it?” Neteyam whispers hotly in your ear and you just groan.

And while his skills with his tongue are legendary, you’re feeling particularly empty, needing to be full of him after weeks of distance “Mmm, no. Want you inside of me”

“Can do” he affirms, his hands going to your hips, nudging you “Lay down, I’ll fuck you, paskalin. I’ll fuck you so good. Wanna’ stretch you out”

“Wait” you press a hand to his chest when you notice the grimace on his face. The one he’s trying to hide as he attempts to lift you “You’re still hurting, Nete”

“I’ll be fine, I’ve got you” He assures, stubbornly “I want you to feel good, too”

He’s not the only one who's stubborn. You wiggle out of his grip, pressing down firmly on his chest.

“We can try something else” you suggest, really not wanting him to hurt himself even worse. Neteyam can get…intense when hes fucking you. It’s all very physical, he pours buckets of sweet down onto you as he works your body.

“You want to get fucked” He reminds you, his hips jerking up pointedly so that you can feel his erection between your legs.

Eywa, yes you do. You want him, you want him to carve his way into your body. To bully your tight walls until they accommodate his wide girth.

You bite your lip and reach for his length, pumping his cock thats still wet with your spit before leaning in close so that you can whisper in his ear “We’re just going to have to compromise”

Neteyam is huffy until you sink down onto him and ride him until neither of you can formulate thoughts.

Until you’re boneless, tangled limbs and buried under your quilts.

The afterglow is your favorite.

Neteyam is always so gentle and tender after sex. He holds you, lets you lie your head on his chest and listen to the steady thrumming beat of his heart as he plays with your hair. The only thing that could make this better is if he reached for your kuru. Is if you got to experience Tsaheylu with him-

It’s not fair,

How could he expect you not to fall in love with him?

The quiet stretches on. The fire is dim and dying and the tent is mostly black, night creeping in and covering you both in darkness.

“I’m sorry” his voice almost startles you, his words confusing and unexpected “I’m sorry I ignored you- the day we came back. I was trying to figure out how to calm my dad down. He was so pissed and Lo’ak’s attitude only makes it worse-”

You don't say anything. You just keep listening to his strong heart.

“I didn't mean to hurt your feelings”

You don't respond for a while. You don't want to shatter the atmosphere that is shimmy fly wing delicate “I was just happy to see you alive. It terrifies me, that you’ll leave on one of these raids and never come back. I dont- I wouldn't know what to do if that happened”

“I'm not going to leave, Y/N” his arms tighten around you and you close your eyes, relishing the way he holds on to you. It makes you feel like maybe you're not the only one desperate for this to never end.

“Do you promise?” You sound young, look so small in his big arms.

“I promise”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Weeks later, The Sully’s leave the tribe.

They’re running, fleeing for the good of the Omaticaya people- that is what Jake says. He claims it is for the best. You have never doubted his prowess as Olo’eyktan until that moment.

The tribe mourns, falls into great sorrow as the family says their goodbyes.

You can not bear to look. You drown in your tears and hide in the crowd. Will not meet Neteyams gaze no matter how much he tries to get you to.

When he mounts his ikran and takes to the skies you feel something inside of you shatter. He disappears into the vast horizon.

Neteyam leaves.

You were a fool to believe he’d keep his promise.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Welp. Um hi guys lol. I was like let me post something short and sweet to come back with before I start hitting you guys with all of my Kinktober prompts next month. Somehow I ended up with a 5k angst filled what could be first chapter of a series. LOL I HATE MYSELF AND THE FACT THAT I CANT WRITE ONE SHOTS.

I literally don't have the time to work on another story, but if this one was a little too much angst, I'd be glad to give us a fix it Part Two.

This will be the last kind of stand alone update until after October. If you havent alread, check out Luna’s( @pandoraslxna )Kinktober prompt list. She is such a gem for cultivating it and helping keep this fandom alive and thriving.

As usual, please leave me some feedback. Good, bad(not mean though lol my psyche’s very fragile rn) I want to hear your thoughts!

Love ya, pretty babies!

[theantarwitch]

Alchemy, the untouched friend of Witchcraft

If there is something interesting that is nearly not used on mostly of the witch community, is Alchemy, and is something from which we could take some few useful stuffs.

As always, disclaimer first, I’m not an expert on the subject and I barely if I read a couple of books about the topic (from another 10 untouched ones lol), so as always in life, take what I say with tweezers. This is meant to be a light superficial view to open a door of possibilities in a mix of Witchcraft and Alchemy, is not a thesis. Saying that, to the core of the question.

Alchemy use elements. A lot of them.

The three primes or Tria Prima (the basic 3 materials): Sulfur (Related to the Soul and the principle of combustibility, so it has volatility, can burn, explode, combust), Mercury (Related to the Spirit, the principle of fusibility so the material can be fused together and volatility so a substance vaporizes), and Salt (Relate to the Body, the principle of non-combustibility and non-volatility).

Our beloved Four basic Elements: Air, Earth, Fire, Water.

The Seven Metals associated with the seven classical planets: Lead, corresponding with Saturn. Tin, corresponding with Jupiter. Iron, corresponding with Mars. Gold, corresponding with the Sun. Copper, corresponding with Venus. Mercury, corresponding with Mercury. Silver, corresponding with the Moon.

The 13 Mundane Elements and Later Metals: Antimony, Arsenic, Bismuth, Cobalt, Magnesium, Manganese, Nickel, Oxygen, Phlogiston, Phosphorus, Platinum, Sulfur, Zinc (All of them with a lot of interesting properties and functions, in and out the alchemy world).

The 10 Alchemical Compounds: Acid, Sal ammoniac, Aqua fortis, Aqua regia, Aqua vitae, Amalgam, Cinnabar, Vinegar, Vitriol, Brimstone (All of them also with amazing properties).

And what interesting me the most (at least to my way to do witchcraft), The 12 Alchemical Processes:

Calcination (Aries): The thermal treatment of a solid to removing impurities or volatile substances.

Congelation (Taurus): Term used in medieval and early modern alchemy for the process known today as crystallization. Process by which a solid form into a structure known as a crystal, by precipitating from a solution or freezing.

Fixation (Gemini): Process by which a previously volatile substance is "transformed" into a form (often solid) that is not affected by fire.

Solution (Cancer): Homogeneous mixture composed of two or more substances. In such a mixture, a solute is a substance dissolved in another substance, known as a solvent.

Digestion (Leo): A process in which gentle heat is applied to a substance over a period of several weeks.

Distillation (Virgo): Separating the components or substances from a liquid mixture by using selective boiling and condensation.

Sublimation (Libra): The transition of a substance directly from the solid to the gas state, without passing through the liquid state.

Separation (Scorpio): Converts a mixture or solution of chemical substances into two or more distinct product mixtures. Process of distinguishing to two or more substance in order to obtain purity.

Ceration (Sagittarius): Chemical process, by continuously adding a liquid by imbibition to a hard, dry substance while it is heated. Typically, this treatment makes the substance softer.

Fermentation/ Putrefaction (Capricorn): A metabolic process that produces chemical changes in organic substrates through the action of enzymes/ Decomposition of organic matter by bacterial or fungal digestion.

Multiplication (Aquarius): Process to increase the potency of the elixir or projection powder, in order to increase the gains in the subsequent projection.

Projection (Pisces): Process to transmute a lesser substance into a higher form; often lead into gold.

Damn, alchemy even have symbols to Units: Month, Day, Hour, Dram (Unit of mass between 1 and 3 grams), Half Dram, Ounce (Unit of mass, weight or volume of 28 grams, Half Ounce, Scruple (1 grams), Pound (500 grams).

So just with this simple 2 pages of basic Wikipedia info, we have a ton of new things to use. Everything here has specific properties, some more physical and chemical oriented, but others (like the 3 Tria Prima and The 12 Alchemical Processes) have a lot of correspondences with the witch life itself.

The 12 Alchemical Processes could be absolutely used to represent an desired outcome.

Calcination uses thermal treatment, so it can boost the Fire element of a spell. It also “removing impurities or volatile substances”, so can be applied to generate a mild fever to get rid off the flu, or to boost the organs that clean the body (kidneys and liver mostly)

Congelation turns a solid by freezing, can boost the Water element, so all the “freezer spells” can be boosted with this.

Fixation? A volatile substance is transformed into a solid form? Sound pretty much to grounding, or to help to focus an ADHD head as mine, or to put down to earth someone who is VOLATILE AND VIOLENT. Also, Earth element.

Solution? Homogeneous mixture of two or more substances? It sounds like an aid to make two people on conflict to get into an agreement, or to boost a new business by mixing the opportunities with the action. Air element.

Digestion. A process in which gentle heat is applied to a substance over a period of several weeks? It sounds like something that can help any process that need digestion (bad news must be “digested”, hard choices must be “consulted with the pillow”), and the “gentle heat” sounds comforting. Someone is grieving? Maybe Digestion can help them to overcome the awful times.

Distillation. Separating the components or substances. Anything that need to be separated can be helped with this. Relationships that must end, breakups, cut the ties with older things or habits.

Sublimation. The transition of a substance. I heard trans rights? Can this maybe help with your hormones? Or even to transition from what you previously left behind with the distillation, to focus in a new better future.

Separation. Process of distinguishing to two or more substance in order to obtain purity. How to choose from two or more choices? How to pick the better one? The one with purity? Separation maid aid.

Ceration. A hard, dry is heated to make it softer. Make that person less frigid, make the boss less bitchy, make your chronic pain less hurtful, make your bills less heavy, all that you can think in make softer.

Fermentation/ Putrefaction. I personally love this one. Produces changes in organic substrates and decomposition of organic matter by bacterial or fungal digestion. Prime element to curses. All what you want to rid off in the most disgusting way. May their flesh get rotten under a car in a hot summer.

Multiplication. Process to increase the potency of the elixir in order to increase the gains in the subsequent projection. MONEY MONEY MAKE MORE MONEY, all what need to be increased and all what you want to multiply, go go go!

Projection. Transmute a lesser substance into a higher form “lead into gold”. Perfect to get better as a person, to learn to adapt, accept, to grow compassion, love, etc.

At this you can add the Units, the metals and mundane elements, the 4 elements, the tria prima, your crystals and herbs and sigils and all. And your spells will be filled with components and correspondences.

What’s better, a lot of the physical elements are not too hard to get (some yes, they are, but you are not here to make lead into gold with a full set of chemistry), but alchemy use a lot of symbology, so even if you don’t have the physical element, you can use their properties with the symbol, just as any other sigil.

Salt is easy. Tin in a food can. Antimony in mostly all the rocks. Arsenic in apple seeds (technically no but still). Cobalt and Manganese basically everywhere. Magnesium in your own body. Nickel in coins. Oxygen in the air., Phosphorus, Zinc and Sulfur in food. Acid in anything acid lol. Aqua vitae in alcohol (especially Whisky). Vinegar in vinegars.

Long story short, if you feel that maybe you are lacking something, check some books about alchemy would maybe help. Don’t pick super chemical specific pro books and don’t be discouraged by the terms, pick what can be useful to you, and I hope this open some doors and bring more curiosity about this amazing topic.

[sollis-occasum]

there is a light that never goes out - anakin x queen!reader x sith!obi-wan (part 1 of 5)

summary: When your first love, Obi-Wan Kenobi, gave in to the temptations of the dark side and joined the Sith Order, you thought there was no hope for your people. However, a message from a friend you thought was dead would reignite the fire of rebellion in your heart.

warnings: angst, no use of y/n, unrequited love, blood, mentions of execution, mentions of death, mentions of biological weapons, reader is a corrupt politician (actually this is a little bit complicated)

word count: 4.2k

a/n: My story takes place in an alternative universe where Obi-Wan has turned to the dark side and Anakin has formed a resistance with the Jedi who survived Order 66 (I know Obi is a comfort character for most of us but sith!obi-wan is too attractive to not write about. What can i do? I'm just a girl) He will be in story in part 2. Also, as i said before, English is not my first language. I'm sure i made many mistakes. I hope you don't mind guys. I love you ♡

If there was one thing your people and your friends in the Imperial Senate knew for sure about you, it was that you had no intention of wasting your precious time rebelling against Lord Sidious, perhaps the most evil being the galaxy had seen in thousands of years.

Of course, it wasn’t because you had sympathy for the ugly old man or supported his fascist ideas that favored the human race. In fact, even during those unfortunate times when thousands of senators from all over the galaxy were ready to worship the Chancellor and the Separatists were on the rise, you were secretly proud of yourself for not falling under his influence—something you would rather attribute to your own intelligence than to the other senators being fools blinded by their lust for power.

Yes, deep down you didn’t recognize Palpatine’s empire and still held onto your loyalty to the Republic, but in your situation it didn’t matter. As a queen, you were one of the best at understanding how dangerous a game politics is, and you played by the rules for the good of your people. Up until that day, you had given the Emperor everything he asked of you without even bargaining. You had allowed him to change your government and install his own men, accepting the heavy taxes he demanded, and allowing him to build the weapons factories and experimental laboratories he wanted, even if it meant destroying the entire ecosystem of your planet. You had made all the sacrifices expected of you, until there was nothing left to sacrifice.

You knew that when your people looked at you, they saw not their beloved queen but one of Palpatine's puppets. To them, you were nothing more than a traitor who had betrayed the great royal family and the glorious history of your planet for thousands of years. You ignored the misery of your people in order to protect your crown and continued your luxurious life in your palace.

If only they knew how wrong they were...

You never had the courage to oppose the emperor until that day because you knew what fate awaited the people who opposed Palpatine's rule. You had seen systems falling apart, planets being invaded, and senators being executed mercilessly in front of their people. You couldn't let the people under your protection face this fate! The Emperor might have carelessly destroyed everything beautiful on your planet, but he wouldn't be able to destroy your people.

For this purpose, you would play the role of the corrupted politician your people had assigned to you in the most professional way, and you would make all the sacrifices you had to make to protect your people from Lord Sidioud's wrath until the end of your life. You didn't have the luxury of playing revolutionist. At least, that was what you believed to be right at the time.

However, in dark times, people change, and so do beliefs. A message sent to you by someone you least expected, at a time you least expected, had also initiated this change.

Using the information in the message secretly delivered to you by an old and neglected droid, whichg you had no idea how he had entered your palace, you managed to open a communication channel, allowing a hologram very close to a human size to appear in front of you.

The man had wavy hair that almost reached his shoulders, and his shoulders were slumped as if he were crushed under the weight of carrying the responsibility of the entire galaxy. He was wearing an old cloak with blood stains on it. The parts of his body that you could see were also covered in blood and wounds. He stood determined and upright, but there were traces in his eyes that even the static hologram image could not hide. Traces of sadness and despair. The owner of this hologram was someone you knew very well: The man in front of you was your old friend Anakin Skywalker.

Thank God, the droid resisted opening the message on the holoprojector in your throne room. Otherwise, you had no idea how you would explain this reaction to those around you. You started to walk back slowly, as if there was an assassin ready to kill you, not a hologram in front of you, and eventually you tripped and fell in your seat. Even though you covered your mouth with your hand in terror, your eyes could not hide your fear and surprise. You took deep breaths as if they could comfort you, but no matter what you did, you could not slow down your rapidly beating heart.

"But how is that possible?" you muttered in a voice you could barely hear. "That's impossible! You-you were dead, Anakin. Obi-Wan killed you."

Anakin, who somehow managed to hear you, smiled sadly and protested, "No, your majesty." "As you can see, I'm still alive. I would love to tell you about my experiences, but..."

"Shut up!" you shouted with a deep anger that came from deep within you to stop the man in front of you. Deep down you knew you were being irrational, but wasn't this situation you were in already irrational enough? Besides, the fact that an old friend you had been mourning for years suddenly appeared before you as if nothing had happened should have given you the right to act however you wanted, at least for a short while.

"Shut up! You can't be real. I know that the real Anakin Skywalker was killed by Obi-Wan Kenobi on Mustafar. Padme Amidala couldn't have lied to me! Who are you and how dare you use Ani to play such a vile trick on me?"

Anakin opened his mouth to explain himself to you again, but you raised your hand to stop him. A light flickered in your eyes as if you had solved a great mystery.

“Of course,” you said sarcastically. “Who else but Palpatine would dare do such a thing? You are one of his men. This droid must belong to the Empire. How could I not have thought of that?”

You ignored the desperate sounds of the ambassador droid and Anakin’s objections as you walked towards your desk to grab the small blaster from the drawer.

“That old man knew I would accept the agreement he wanted anyway. Did he really need to play such a dirty trick on me? Besides, what did he think he was going to achieve by doing this? That I would give him everything he wanted without even holding a meeting? Couldn’t he have sent one of his incompetent ambassadors who is just as ugly as he is?”

You quickly turned the gun on the droid. The small, metal astromech tried to move back and forth in fear, but it couldn’t get very far from where it was, partly because of the hologram’s loyalty to its owner and partly because the metal parts that made it move had rusted.

You turned to the hologram one last time and said in a language unbecoming of a queen, “Now fuck off and tell your owner that I will accept the deal he is offering and that he doesn’t need to play such cheap games because when I am done with him, your stupid droid will not be able to do it.”

The astromech started to make hissing sounds of protest again, and Anakin’s voice joined his. He raised his hand as if he could stop you from where he was and shouted, “Don’t you dare do that.” There was no trace of the respect in his voice when you first started talking. “This is my only chance to talk to you. If you shoot the droid, it’s all over. And for God’s sake, are you so blind that you can’t even recognize Artoo?”

You looked at the astromech again with a jerk. You hadn't lowered your weapon yet, but it was a fact that the hologram's mention of Artoo aroused suspicion in your mind. Yes, you could tell with a single glance that the droid in front of you belonged to one of the older models of the R series, and its advanced intelligence, the sounds it made, and its hasty attitude were also the same as Artoo's. But how could you be sure that this droid, whose paint had peeled off, was not oiled, and was damaged in many places, belonged to your old friend? You turned your gaze to Anakin with an irritated expression.

"I have no reason to believe that this droid is Artoo. It could be any model of the R series. And let me tell you right now that you know about Artoo's existence doesn't mean anything to me. Your owner's pet Obi-Wan Kenobi may have also told you about Anakin's astromech."

Artoo let out a sad hiss as Anakin began to angrily ruffle his hair with his non-mechanical hand. "Is he my owner?" he asked, disgust evident in his voice. "Is Palpatine my owner? Don't you dare say that again. That scumbag is nothing to me. How can you think I'm working for him when I've lost everything and everyone I care about because of him!"

"Then prove it!" you cried. You could feel the anger and pain beginning to consume you. "I beg you," you muttered quietly as you sank to the ground in front of the holoprojector. "I'm not asking for you to give me a reason, I'm begging you to give me a reason." Maybe you needed to believe more than he needed to be believed.

"Convince me that Anakin Skywalker is still alive."

You could see Anakin smiling at you, though it was blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes. It was a warm, affectionate smile that he rarely showed to anyone, perhaps even a little embarrassed.

He moved slowly and cautiously, as if you were a wounded convor who would run away if he frightened her. He reached into his cloak pocket and pulled out a delicate bracelet with a round, shiny stone in the center. Even the fact that it was reflected in a poorly-made hologram didn’t stop you from recognizing it at first sight.

“Do you remember this?” Anakin asked softly. “You gave me this bracelet ten years ago, on the edge of the Nara swamp. It was my last day before i left your planet, and we got into a fight over some stupid reason I can’t remember now. I think it was something about Aiwha rights. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying Aiwha rights are stupid, I’m just saying it was stupid that we got into a fight over this on our last day.”

Even though you were in a crappy situation, you couldn’t help but curl your lips. You had always been very sensitive about the rights of non-sapient species (Tusken raiders were not among them, of course; they were a whole other story), and you found it funny that the man who was talking was afraid to upset you even after all these years. The times when you fought with all your might to defend the rights of other living beings seemed so distant to you. Especially now that you can barely protect the rights of your own people.

"You were so angry with me that I thought you wouldn't come to say goodbye before I returned to Crouscant, but you sent a note to me with help of Artoo asking us to meet at the edge of the Nara Swamp. You didn't want anyone to know about this meeting."

Artoo made a noise of agreement, glad that his part in the story hadn't been left out. Everything the man who claimed to be Anakin had told you so far was true, and the bracelet he showed was a great proof. You knew that your heart was starting to believe him, even if your brain resisted it, but you didn't let your guard down. Because if the man in front of you was really a liar, you knew that your heart would be shattered again and this time, unlike what you did in the past, you wouldn't be able to put the broken pieces back together. "Go ahead," you said coldly.

"We met at the place you wanted just before sunrise. At first, you were very quiet, no matter what I said, I couldn't convince you to talk. Then you suddenly started crying. In fact, I gave you the nickname softy back then. To be honest, even today, when the entire galaxy calls you queen and bows down to you, I'm proud to be the only one who can mock you like that. Anyway... Even though it had been a month since we met, that was the first time you told me about your past. You told me that you weren't very close with your family, that you were always taken care of by the maids and nannies in the palace, that you didn't have any friends growing up. You told me that I was your first and only friend, that no one could understand you like I did, and you asked me not to go, that I should stay on your planet with you."

"But you still left." you said in a low voice. While Anakin was verbally explaining, you were so immersed in replaying that memory in your mind that you hadn’t realized that by addressing him as “you,” you were indirectly acknowledging that he was Anakin Skywalker. “You knew I had to go,” he said with a sad smile, thinking of both of you, those two innocent children who were unaware of their unfortunate and painful future at the time.

"When I told you that I belonged in the Jedi Temple, and that I had to go, you asked me for a favor."

He took the bracelet in his hand and squeezed it as if he were drawing strength from it. "You asked me to come find you and give you this bracelet if you ever ascended to the throne and become one of those stupid, self-centered, incompetent politicians. You said it meant a lot to you and would bring you back to your senses."

The bracelet in Anakin's hands was truly precious to you because, ironically, there was nothing else that made it valuable. When expressed this way, it might seem contradictory, even a little absurd, but it had a very meaningful story for you. When you were only 15, when your people saw you not as a traitor but as their beautiful and elegant princess, you had left the palace to greet your people and tried to blend in with them as if you were a common citizen and not a member of the royal family. While you were deep in conversation with a little boy about his favorite snack, an old and poor woman had timidly approached you and tentatively handed you the bracelet. According to what she told you, the woman made her living by selling jewelry in her small shop, and the bracelet was the most expensive and valuable thing in that dilapidated shop.

"Even if it's not worthy of you, please take this, my noble princess," the woman said with an embarrassed face as if she had said something very rude. "I don't mean to disrespect you by giving you such a cheap bracelet, but it is the most valuable thing I have. I am a person who is devoted to the royal family with all my heart. You have no idea how honored i would be if you accept this little gift of mine and wear it."

To be honest, even the barrette in your poorest maid's hair was more expensive than that bracelet. It was not your style at all, and it didn't even match your clothes.

But that day, in front of that old shop, you had taken that bracelet from her wrinkled hands, put it on, and never taken it off until the day you gave it to Anakin. That bracelet was more than just a piece of chain and a small stone to you. That was a symbol of your loyalty to your people. One day, when you inherited the throne from your father, you would protect everyone who was disadvantaged, find a way to end income inequality. Now, those dreams you had as a little girl made you laugh.

You may not have been able to bring justice to your people, but you had managed to become the most hated member of the royal family in the thousands of years of your planet's history. Well, that was something, wasn't it? At least you knew that one day your name would not be buried in the dusty pages of history, but would continue to be in the history books for years to come. Even if you were to be remembered as a failed leader and a traitor...

You were so lost in memories of the distant past and self-criticism that it took Anakin's cough to bring you back to your senses. You didn't have to be a Jedi to know that he was getting impatient.

"From what I've heard, it's time to return this bracelet to you, but that's beside the point. Now, if I've convinced you that I'm Anakin Skywalker, can I get to the point?"

How could he dare to come back after all these years and criticize how you governed your people as if nothing had happened? On the other hand, speaking without thinking was so typical of Anakin that you couldn't even get angry. You shrugged your shoulders irritably.

"I can't say I believe it, but I decided to at least listen to what you have to say before I smash your droid. If you want to convince me, you have to explain where have you been and what have you been doing all these years. Padme told me before she was executed that you were killed by Obi-Wan Kenobi on Mustafar. If you were alive, why didn't you come to me all these years? Why didn't you let me help you?"

Actually, there were hundreds of things you wanted to ask. You wanted to know where he has been all this time, how he escaped from the Imperial soldiers, what did he do in order to survive? But you couldn’t do it because your voice had started to tremble. It was like that whenever you mentioned him. Your throat would tighten and your voice would shake. Obi-Wan Kenobi, the once Jedi Master and the ruthless Sith Lord of your time, or Darth Whatever. You couldn’t bear to say that dirty name given to him by the Emperor, or even think about it. The years had taught you to get used to everything, but you couldn’t get used to his new identity. He was the man who had once taught you love, mercy, and compassion. He was your first love and your first heartbreak. How could he have turned into such a hateful, savage beast? How could that wise man accept being Palpatine’s puppet?

After a few seconds of silence, Anakin spoke up again. “It’s actually a little hard to explain.” You could see he was having a hard time remembering and recounting the past. But you didn’t stop him. You wanted answers to your questions, and you were going to get them. Right away.

“It’s true that Obi-Wan and I fought a duel at Musatafar, and I lost. But contrary to what my former master thought, I didn’t die there. Padme saved me shortly before she was executed.” He pulled up the pants under his cloak to reveal his mechanical leg. “Here’s a souvenir from that duel. After being treated by Senator Organa’s personal doctors on Alderaan, I traveled to a planet I won’t name for security reasons, and met up with some allies I won’t name.”

“You’re turning into a droid, huh?” you asked, pointing to his leg. Even though there was sarcasm in your voice, your expression couldn't hide your true feelings. “You’ve always loved them.” You knew what he was talking about was extremely serious and traumatic, but you had to say something right then, and that was the first thing that came to mind, no matter how meaningless. And Artoo had made a more lively sound than he had since he had come to you. You had no idea what the little astromech had understood from what you had said, but he was clearly excited to imagine his master as a droid.

Anakin rolled his eyes, "How funny," he said, but you noticed that he was smiling.

"So why did you reach out to me now, Anakin, after all these years of disappearing? What do you want from me?"

"I haven't reached out to you all this time because I've seen the sacrifices you've made to protect your people. I know what Obi-Wan did to those he thought were organizing against Palpatine. And I learned from Senator Organa back then that the emperor was watching your every move. Knowing I was alive would bring nothing but destruction to you and your people. Frankly, I wouldn't be reaching out to you today if I didn't need your help so badly. One of our friends who has managed to infiltrate the Imperial engineers recently gave us some information that Palpatine is making moves to build a new weapon."

"A weapon? Is he trying to build a new one, as if he doesn't already have every weapon in the galaxy?"

"This is a different kind of weapon. Palpatine plans to use a parasite that lives on your planet and secretes its toxic substances to create a bioweapon. It's also much more deadly than any other bioweapon he has. By our calculations, just 10 grams of it released into the air would be enough to kill 2 million people, and up to 5 million for some life forms."

You put your hands to your mouth in horror. You could imagine what it would mean for Palpatine to have such a deadly weapon of mass destruction. And was he going to do it on your planet, using your resources? "B-but how is that possible?" you asked Anakin. "If something like that happened, i would definitely hear about it..."

Your words were cut short by the sudden realization. "Of course..." you mumbled to yourself. "How could I not have figured this out until now?" You were just beginning to understand why Palpatine was so insistent on setting up a lab on your planet. You were already aware that you didn't have the most reliable intelligence team in the galaxy, but you were trying very hard not to go and punch them all. How could they not have known about this beforehand and warned you? And you were angry with yourself. After being deceived and betrayed by Palpatine so many times, how could you have believed that the lab he had set up was for medical purposes? “Good God,” you said, as if seeking strength. Because only divine power could make you endure the horror of what you were hearing.

You turned to the droid next to you with a sudden decision. You would have plenty of time to be angry with yourself and the people under your command later. But right now, you had to be strong and find a solution as soon as possible. Just like a queen. "You have the coordinates to Anakin's location, don't you, Artoo?"

The astromech confirmed you with you. "Give them to me right away. I have to go to Anakin."

Your old friend raised his hand and reached for you as if he could stop you, but the hologram passed through your body. "Don't do something stupid like that," he objected. "If you get caught, they'll kill you."

"Then I won't get caught." you said with great determination. "I can't leave you there like that, Anakin. Besides, I don't think you're in a position to object to me. Your whole body is covered in blood."

"It's not my blood, actually."

"If you think that makes me feel better, Anakin, I'm sorry, but you're very wrong."

You slowly reached out to Anakin's face. This move had done nothing but scatter the hologram, but your emotions were so intense that you wanted to reach even his reflection.

"Wait for me, Anakin."

After you turned off the holoprojector, you called one of your loyal servants over and asked her to prepare your ship. "Make sure to oil this droid," you added as you lovingly patted Artoo's head. "You have no idea how smart and special this little one is."

This was the message that lit a light in your heart 3 years ago, giving you hope that everything would change. Your old friend might have reached out to you for help. But he was the one who helped you by putting the broken pieces of your heart back together. Fate had brought you and Anakin Skywalker together once more, never to be separated again..

tags: @circe143 @snowtargaryen

[grisastro]

Astro Observations 4 (+ placements I find Attractive at the bottom)

- [ ] Mars-Venus Conjunction (or at least in the same sign) indicates popularity? In my observations, they are a YouTubers, Influencers, content Creators, Insta Models.

- [ ] Sun-Uranus people I’ve met, most of them are LGBTQ, also me (is it a coincidence??)

- [ ] Also Aquarius Risings I know, most of them are LGBTQ

- [ ] Have you ever attracted enemies or people who hated you for no reasons? Do you have any planets in your 12th house??

- [ ] Your chart ruler should never be overlooked. Its position and aspects tell a lot about you. I found one website that really accurate 👉🏻 https://teaandrosemary.com/

- [ ] Is it only me? Who find Aries Rising Men have a ton of sex appeal.. it’s like there’s a fire in their eyes, a warrior eyes, very sexy, very firery. I know one friend who is Aries Rising and also Mars Square Rising together. I wanna F him😂

- [ ] Are Gemini stellium a gossiper?

- [ ] You tend to be attracted to people who share the same Moon sign or at least find them interesting and wanna know more about them.

- [ ] From my observations, People with Venus Conjunct Mars are always in a relationship. They don’t stay single for too long. When they break up with someone, not too long and they will be in the next relationship. Maybe because it’s not so difficult for them to attract love interest since they are really attractive and easy to be around.

- [ ] Is it true for Venus in 12th house native that you just know what it feels like to be heart broken even if your heart never been broken before? Or you just know what it feels like to fall deeply in love or beloved by someone even if it’s never happened before? They said that Venus in 12th house has learned every lessons about love (1-11 houses) from the past lives.

- [ ] I have interacted with 2 persons in my life who has interceptions in their charts, and it felt like there’s an imbalance in their personality, lack of something I can’t pinpoint, I dunno, something missing in their personalities. ( both of them are unaware and not into astrology tho, and I believe that if they were , they would fill the hole by working on something)

- [ ] I think that the Sun sign that easiest to spot is Aquarius Sun. They are everything but generic.

- [ ] In my opinion, I think the most egotistical placement if undeveloped is sun in the 1st house.

- [ ] Also, sun in the 1st house natives, most likely to have the same sign as their rising. People with This placement give off the Main Character energy. Strong character, and people see you as a leader, and of course you have a great leadership skill.

- [ ] There’s always some people in your workplace or school who seen as different and unique. Check if they have Uranus in the 1st house. And if it’s happen to make a Major aspect to the their Sun, their uniqueness is even amplified and more apparent. It may not be so obvious but people will have an idea that they are not like others.

- [ ] Also look at the house that the Sun and Uranus sit in may give you more insight. For example: if they have Uranus in the 1st house and Sun in the 10th house ( which squaring each other), their work could be unique and offbeat. Very outstanding!

- [ ] Not only Scorpio IC that have a tough and traumatic childhood, but Also Aries. ( need to see the whole chart though)

- [ ] Gemini Risings look young and got bright eyes like a child.

Lastly, what BIG 3 combination you find most attractive and/or what placement in a birthchart you find irresistible and why? Share with me 😊

Placements I find charismatic

- [ ] Venus in Scorpio, Aquarius, Leo, Aries

- [ ] Mars in Aries, Leo, Scorpio, Gemini

- [ ] Moon in Aquarius, Scorpio, Libra, Aries

- [ ] Sun in Taurus, Aquarius, Pisces, Libra

- [ ] Mercury in Libra, Virgo, Pisces

- [ ] Fixed Risings (Leo, Scorpio, Aquarius, Taurus), Sag and Cappy!

- [ ] Venus-Uranus, Venus-Pluto, Mars-Pluto, Sun-Uranus, Moon-Pluto, Moon-Uranus

- [ ] Venus/Sun/Mars/Moon in 8th house

- [ ] Mars/Uranus in 1st house

- [ ] Uranus in 5th house

- [ ] 11th house Stellium, 8th house Stellium, 5th house Stellium

[buildoblivionthenwewilltalk]

doctor off duty

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Strangelove (Fulgrim, Ferrus Manus)

Summary: Fulgrim meets Ferrus' lover and remembers his past.

Fulgrim/fem!Reader, Ferrus Manus/fem!Reader

Warnings: obsession, angst

Word count: 1196

Song: Depeche Mode - Strangelove

Fulgrim, my man, I'm sorry that i make you suffer.

Fulgrim had never seen Ferrus worried or afraid. Even right now Manus led his brother into his chambers with his usual confidence. But he felt a noticeable change in the air. Ferrus told Fulgrim that he wanted to introduce him to someone. A very important person for him. Whom did he meet just recently. But he was sure that your relationship would continue for a long time.

Already at this moment Fulgrim should have tensed. But he did not notice the catch and never thought that the Gorgon could ever fall in love. And even more so openly admit this feeling to himself and his beloved. Manus was the perfect cog in the Imperium. A mechanism that worked smoothly and responsibly. But it seems the joint campaign with Vulkan has made him softer.

When Fulgrim first meets you he can't say a word.

Libya was the first one. First wife. First love. Small and thin, she was afraid of almost everything. Her father did not want his dear daughter to see the horrors of the world. But he had to give her in arranged marriage to Fulgrim. When she first met her future husband, Libya almost burst into tears. She was shaking so much with fear. She was leaving her family and home forever. The marriage could have been unhappy. In addition, the primarch's height frightened the young girl.

At that moment, Fulgrim knew he wanted to protect her. This girl is the embodiment of the entire planet, all the unfortunate inhabitants who need help. He did everything he could to make her happy. He taught her new knowledge and spent his free time with her. He was very gentle with Libya the first night and the the next ones too. Love inspired him and gave him the strength to unite Chemos as soon as possible.

She died.

“I-I think that perfection does not exist” - you stammer, trying not to look at the Phoenician who asked an important question for him. He feels your face and hands sweating with worry. “But this is precisely what defines humanity. T-therefore, we continue to develop in science and art. We strive to achieve excellence. Something that doesn't exist. And this means that the Imperium will always move forward.”

Fulgrim did not expect such an answer. At all. No, perfection existed, it was just that your mortal nature could not realize it. And yet your reasoning and thoughts... agitated him. He could no longer remember the last time he felt such emotions from a conversation with a mortal female.

Venus was a serious and smart girl. Even too much. Deprived of many of the joys of life, she always helped her parents in everything. And she calmly accepted her marriage to Fulgrim. They became close over conversations about the peoples of Chemos. Venus absorbed knowledge with great zeal. But most of all she loved legends and myths. And often told them to her husband before bed.

She died of fever. Fulgrim still remembers her face, contorted in pain. How she cried and begged to be killed so as not to suffer anymore. He could not refuse her this last favor.

Could not.

Fulgrim just can't take his eyes off the two of you. How you calmly chat with Ferrus like an ordinary person. Without feeling the charisma of a primarch. And even though you barely reached the man’s waist, it didn’t bother you. Just like him. Although Manus’s eyes were steel, when he looked at you, they glowed with fire.

He could have lost you. To lose your gaze and the warmth of your hands. Never again will hear your singing voice. You could have died. From old age. Or you could be killed. But Ferrus only shrugged off Fulgrim's warnings after you left them alone. The Imperium brought rejuvenating drugs. Besides, you are a smart girl and don’t go to the front line. And even so he will be able to protect you.

“But what if she dies? Or the Emperor will forbid you to see each other when he knows about her.”

Ferrus looks at his brother in bewilderment clearly not understanding his strange behavior. The man ponders the question for a while. Before shrugging and smiling. The Phoenician almost flinched at the confidence of his beloved brother.

“Even so, I'm glad I was able to experience this feeling.”

Clio always smiled. She always kept a mask and did not allow others to look into her soul. Instead, she tried to help everyone. Especially children and old people. Fulgrim will never forget how she cried on his shoulder, opening her heart. He so wanted her to never cry again and really love life.

But she was shot by those who disagreed with his rule. There was too much blood and he didn’t have time to save her. Fulgrim didn't have time to say goodbye. He didn’t have time to tell her how glad he was that she came into his life. That he would take care of her.

But he couldn't protect her.

They all died. They all left him. Alone. With a broken heart. It was enough for the Phoenician to experience love three times. He couldn't bear this feeling anymore. Feelings of loss and grief. Moreover, every year he had to rule over millions, billions of lives. He couldn't afford to be weak. Couldn’t choose between the planet and one single love. The man accepted his fate. He resigned himself.

And Gorgon knew about this. Knew about Fulgrim's wives. He knew that the primarch had suffered the grief of loss. Only to him the Phoenician told about his past. About his feelings and regret that human life is so fleeting. But that didn't stop Manus from finding you. To unite with you the bonds of love.

Fulgrim felt black envy creeping through his veins. No. Love is weakness. Love is imperfect. He couldn't allow himself to feel that way. And could not envy or condemn his beloved brother. It was Manus' choice. He himself decided to take this step.

The primarch, sitting in his chambers, sighed heavily. You were as kind as Clio. Smart and sensible like Venus. As small and trembling as Libya. No, you were not their symbiosis; these traits are inherent in many people. But knowing that you are Manus’ beloved, the Phoenician could not help but compare you with his wives. Dead ones. And you were alive.

And your reasoning about perfection... he did not agree with you and yet was amazed by the honest answer. The way you see the world and humanity as a whole. He would like to spend more time with you, talk to you, see you.

No, he couldn't. Fulgrim felt himself going mad from the flood of memories. And one, tiny thought that he could feel something for you... scared. He could not allow himself to fall in love again, much less with his brother's betrothed. The only thing he can do is continue the Crusade and strive for perfection. He should stop thinking about you and focus on Laeran. The war with the xenos will help him get into a rut.

And forget about you.

[starfishstark]

MOONLIGHT

SYNOPSIS The moment tribals heard of a rumor of an outsider inhabiting their planet, Kaibre volunteered to find this man, see if he was a threat to their people or if coexistence was viable. With their blooming friendship, will they become more or will Kaibre find out about his dark origins...

PAIRING qimir x tribal! reader, reader uses the name Kaibre (i cannot write using y/n sorry chat!), reader uses she/her pronouns, the reader has a kid (rhysin my beloved)

WARNINGS 4.7K words, fluff so far, very mild descriptions of violence

pt 1

There’s someone else on the beach…

Word spreads ridiculously fast on Bal'demnic. Even between the coastal tribe to the river tribe, and even back to the mountain tribe driven in solitude with their forever warm underground pools filled with steam and the sound of laughter and prayers all night long. Even more from a single rumor, everything is exposed.

Kaibre assumes, sure, it’s easier, when a single rumor about a crush becomes a marriage proposal in the course of a week. Why bother hiding attraction? Just propose, and if they say no, go sing melancholy songs to the moons above, and sit in your corner of the lagoon for while till you no longer feel so worrisome over something so trivial. If they say yes, grin like a madman and get married that night in front of the black sands, a cortosis thread tied around their neck, and the high moons. On Bal'demnic, when word spreads, it spreads fast. 

When the morning scouts went on their early rounds, they noticed the disturbance in the waves. It was a little irk in the back of their heads, making them tread lightly until one of the boys caught sight of another person on the beach. An outsider!! On their little planet?!

Within the nightfall of the second day, everyone in the tribe harbored anxious thoughts about what to do next. As the closest tribe to the outsider, the stranger, on their lands, they were expected to take care of it. Word had started to reach the other tribes, and the coastal tribe would soon need to find out whether this stranger was here to harm them or not. The little kids of course thought nothing but another face to play along with, and maybe a stranger with no responsibilities would have more time to toss them up into the air while they giggled their little hearts out. 

“Tell me again, what did you see…”

Everytime, the story was the same. There was the stranger in one of the lagoons further north, he limped into the pool, and he had a bag of belongings with him. In the distance, one of those space ships rested peacefully on a small island off the coast. 

And everyone wanted to hear the story. Of course, when words spread, it’s not always true. 

“He had scars littering his body. He’s taller than the anyone in the entire tribe! He was bleeding out his side, limping for relief to the warm lagoon, like someone had maimed him! Bested him, even! Perhaps he’s in exile, all for killing little naughty children who don’t listen to their mothers…!”

Once the sun had set, and the moons started to align again in the lunar solstice of every night, the warriors and workers of the tribe alike gathered around the central fire. Whispers of the stranger slaughtered the silence, he was a myth and legend all the same. There has been no outsider in Bal’demnic for generations.

“Silence!” Icar swished his long robe in a singular motion, letting the quiet settle throughout the crowd around the fire. Their northern coastal tribe was small, many opting to move to the south for the plentiful resources, but the ones still here remained for the sand rich in cortosis, the metal their ancestors settled here for. Powerful to the breathing heart of this planet. That said, there weren’t all that many workers and warriors around the fire, but enough that the instant silence spoke measures to how much respect Icar wielded in the tribe. “I assume we all know of the situation at hand. I am not to waste time, but we must send someone to actually see this stranger on our planet…on our beaches…”

Icar looked up expectantly from his stare at the fire. There was a wash of agreements from the people around, some people automatically raising their hands and volunteering. 

“No, no warriors, we cannot seem as a threat before we know how powerful this stranger is. He could have more with him. No, no we cannot send a stranger immediately, our safest option is someone more…flexible. Unassuming. We need to show the tolerance for co-existence if they come in peace. Able to collect information, and for the worst path…someone our tribe is mendable to be without. I’m sorry, but we cannot afford to lose a head warrior if this is a legitimate threat.”

Instant groans and protests sounded from the head warriors seated next to Kaibre, one of them even getting up and ready to argue with Icar before Icar shot him a hot look. 

“I can do it.” 

The head warriors turned to look at Kaibre with a curious look, like they didn’t even notice her at the meetings.

Icar looked at her with a pained expression, shaking his head, “Kaibre, you have a son.”

“The- the people will watch over him.” Not gonna lie, Kaibre forgot about that for a moment she volunteered. But she didn’t feel like this stranger was going to kill her, and people like Kaibre have knack for getting things like this right. “No child goes without here.”

It takes a village to raise a child, that much was true. If Kaibre was to drop dead the next second, her son would not go without being taken care of. Without being fed, without a roof over his head, even if he might be alone in the hut Kaibre built by herself, 3 months pregnant with him. But even then, the children will come and go in their hut, he will stay with the people, and he will find his place among them. 

“But you have just had a son, it’s been barely 4 cycles.” Icar reminded her, watching her carefully. 

“I…don’t believe this stranger will kill me.”

The tribals went silent again, holding their breaths. 

Kaibre was sensitive to the air, the kids used to say. She could always tell if one of them was lying about where they all really were. Even when she was a kid, she could tell when one of her friends would become sick the next day. She would always give her food away for the hunter and warriors who went hungry too soon too fast, like she could tell that night they would be bountiful in their hunt and bring back the food she had given away tenfold. 

And even now, everyone held their breath to the girl who could feel what was wrong in the air. Their attention made her squirm in her seat, trying to focus on Icar, who was looking at her with furrowed eyebrows, but resolved in his decision. 

“Are you sure? Rhysin only has one mother. One guardian.”

Her eyes focused in on the movement of the fire, swallowing her fear and trying to commit herself to this. When her eyes met Icars’ again, he knew her answer. 

“You will leave one rotation from now, when the sun sets, take a cortosis blade with you for protection, and a bag of warm supper for amity.”

Kaibre nods, barely able to keep in her excitement of going out of the village again. She hadn’t been out like this in 4 cycles. 

The next day goes by in a hurry, with Kaibre prepping her eyes with the dark ashes in a clay pot for seeing in the night, strapping a cortosis blade flat to her thigh, hidden by the ruffles of a white skirt. Her black drape lays artfully on her, even earning her a “Pretty Ammi!” from Rhysin when she sees her getting ready. She laughs, picking up her little boy and kissing both his cheeks, before telling him to run off to Lysa’s house for the night, her close friend. 

She sees Icar one last time where he hands her a bag full of food, enough to feed two and a clear sign of appeasement. Giving her one last nod, he sends her off before the moons align that night. 

The trek to the northern lagoons is not difficult usually, but with her watching every step in the darkness, and carrying all that food, it takes the breath from her just a little. However, the energy returns to her the second she sees the trail of smoke coming from an opening in the nearby cave system adjacent to the lagoons. Her breath catches, and she carefully treads on the rocks leading her to the cave opening. 

She hears the whirs and revs of machinery, oh she hasn’t seen any her entire life, and peers from behind a rock wall to see the stranger…

They were right, he bleeding out his side. How did Lysa even come up with a lie that clever and accurate? Even from where she was standing, she could see the slight way he preferred to his left side, with the hint of bandages under his loose shirt. 

Wow, he’s wearing a shirt…

She hasn’t seen a shirt except one time she dreamt of one, and once when she saw it in a what they call a magazine in the mountain tribe from years ago. 

He had skin paler than those in the tribe, almost like someone washed him in milk compared to her own wood toned skin. His hair covered the back of his neck, hanging low in front of his face, covering it from his view, but she picked up on hooded eyes narrowed in on what he was melding. 

She looked around the room, staying behind that wall keeping her from his view. It didn’t look like that of someone aggressive. 

“You know, you don’t have to hide behind that wall.”

Kriff…

She leaned from the edge of the wall again, peering at the stranger all over again. He was relaxed, and open with his posture. Hunched just a little in his seat, with his lips tugging at an easy going smile. 

“Do you speak Aurebesh?” He asked patiently while Kaibre stepped completely out of the shadows, standing with arm against the rock wall.

She nodded, unsure what to say after being caught so blatantly, and not more than a minute she had been there. Was she losing her touch?

“I apologize for disturbing your planet…It was recorded as uninhabited and uninhabitable. It wasn’t until I landed that I realized how ridiculously outdated that was.”

Kaibre nods unsurely, slowly - towards him and stands closer to him. “Why are you here?”

“I- uhm,” He looks taken back by the question, unsure what to answer. “Refuge. I’m, uh, searching for somewhere safe. To live, away from…all that out there.” He gestured vaguely to the stars, visible in the openings of the cave. Awful cave to be in really, absolutely useless in the rain season. “I don’t plan on hurting anyone.” To emphasize his point, he raises his open palms as a pseudo-surrender. 

She relaxes, getting closer to him curiously, dropping her bag carefully before taking another step and lurching forward to cup his face with both hands.

“You look like the mountain people…” She trailed off, rubbing her thumb on his cheekbone inquisitively, as if she thought it would wipe off. Her fingers touched his hair, wondering how it was so straight on him. 

It was a common greetings between tribes meeting once in a decade of rotations, just to see how different the people looked between tribes, but Kaibre was unaware how sudden it seemed to him. 

“Uh….what are you doing?” He asked quietly, watching her attentively but taken off guard with how curious she was. He didn’t move her off though, a small piece of him enjoying the innocent curious touch as opposed to the violent, brash, and fleeting touch he’d escaped. Her hands were warm against his cool face, and he looked right at her, trying to meet her eyes. He breathed out softly, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Kaibre from the northern coast tribe.” She tilted her head in the same way his was tilted, her lips turning into a smile when she saw the way he started to chuckle at the same time. Kaibre noticed his hands slowly covered her own on his face. “What are you called?”

“Qimir,” he answered immediately. “I promise I’m no threat to your people…So long as they don’t hurt me…”

“Where are you from…?”

“Coruscant,” He answered in the same quiet voice, like being too loud would scare her away. Quimir squinted at her, taking in the embellishments on her ears, like little bells. Really, how did she manage to be that quiet with those on her? Her hair was pulled back into a complex braid, leaving stray hairs on the nape of neck and at the edges of her hairline. 

Kaibre nodded, feeling satisfied with the way she scrutinized him as a person, and stepped back, slipping her hands from under his. She picked up the bag from the ground, holding it out to him like an offering. “A gift. We did not know if you were able to catch any food.”

He smile turned lazy, looking at her in sincere gratitude. “Oh, you have no idea how much I’ve missed good food…”

They sat on the ground next to each other, with Qimir asking what each food was called and nothing less than melting at each bite he took in his right hand. After the first two times Kaibre slapped away his left hand when he went to go grab something new, he quickly learned he had to eat with the right hand or nothing else. 

Kaibre still noticed how he preferred his left side. “What happened?” If he was attacked, he could be tracked, and if he was tracked, he could lead trouble right to her little planet.

“I got in a mixup with some spice traders. Not to worry, they won’t follow me here if that’s what you’re worried about.”

That’s…exactly what she was worried about. How did he know that?

She nodded slowly, pulling out the grain drink from inside the bag, handing it over to him. Qimir squinted at first, looking at her with apprehension with the first time, eyes flickering between the weird substance and her expecting face. 

“Uh…what is that?”

“It’s sathu, drink up, you’ll heal fast.”

“I can heal with some bacta, really, it’s fine—”

“Sathu is refined and prepared for hours, you know how much work goes into this?”

He looked at it again, his face betraying his thoughts. “Do I have to?”

She looked at him expectantly, nudging it forward again. Kaibre, single mother of a toddler, nailed down the ‘don’t make me ask twice’ look ages ago. Qimir stood no chance. 

He sighed, taking it from her hands, smelling it questionably, and took a sip. However, catching the window she had, she held her hand under the cup, pushing and pushing till he finished the whole drink. 

Once he finished, he shot her a grumpy look, maybe aiming for angry, but all she could see was the little brown sathu stache that clung to his actual stache. She nodded, happy that he finished the whole drink without spilling any. “Good, good boy, you finished the whole thing.” 

Qimir looked like he might have choked on something, nodding again, and looked at the wrapped up food. He hesitantly looked out the cave. “Is it really ok for you to walk back alone?”

“You came to the forest, I was raised in it,” Kaibre smiled proudly, gathering the leaves and putting them in the bag again. 

“Will you come by again?” He asked casually, eyes averted as he stands up. 

She thought about it. “It depends on what the people decide on. We might negotiate terms for coexistence, maybe even cooperation between us.”

Qimir just smiled. 

__

Qimir thought about the strange woman he met. She came just up to his collarbone, with long hair swept up into a intricate braid, and dark lining around her round eyes, making them stand out when she studied him those few long minutes. The way her hands felt cupping his face and rubbing against his skin like the color might scrub off if she did it too hard. 

And then the food she shared with him. No one told the tribals to do that, but they took it upon themselves. Now Qimir is no fool, they’re trying to prevent animosity in the future for sure, and he felt no aggression coming from the womans’ ridiculously untrained force signature. 

He felt her energy from a hundred feet away, his face perking up at it. At first, he thought it was a group of many people traveling together, maybe for a battle. It was only when she got closer that Qimir realized it was one person. One force sensitive person. Incredible. Really, how did the Jedi not detect her?

He could almost feel tendrils of the force nudge against his mental walls, trying to poke and prod a guess of what he was like. Of course, she wasn’t even aware that’s what she was doing. He had to have her, had to teach her, he could feel the urge tugging at him the second she left. 

She’ll be back… Qimir reassured himself. He could still remember the second she stepped from behind the wall, white ruffled skirt, and a black shawl draping as a top, leaving her shoulders exposed and a sliver of her hip. 

Kaibre, hm? Bal’demnic, oh what a perfect place for refuge…

__

As the rotations flew by, Qimir became a friend to the Bal’demnic people. Kaibre communicated rules to him, and he accepted, more than happy that they were willing to share the space with them. Kaibre made the walk up to his caves more than once a week, to either bring food, or at his request to help with carving out the space in his caves. In return for the food, he would trade the village for some of the things he brought from outside the planet. He would leave maybe once a month to go run for supplies, and in that time he would return with dozens of pelts and waterskins, and sometimes gifts he saved to trade with later for. 

But she would lying if she said she only went up there as often to trade. She found solstice in the quiet companionship beyond the village, given the little artificial light he had set up around the cave, technology she had never seen before. They could take forever in front of the false sun, until the moons had long aligned and she realized she had to head back to Rhysin before morning. She realized that Qimir preferred her company as well, asking if she would return everytime she left. 

“Qimir?” Kaibre called out, carrying millets and grain in her bag. She looked around the cave, setting down the bag in it’s usual spot. “Where did you go?”

He could be in the lagoon maybe, but it was unusual at this time. After the sun set? Likely not. 

Today was another day she came with no plan in mind, expecting no trade at the time. She came to talk with him, like they often did. He had this sharp tea that he poured to the both of them, sipping at the edge of the cave where the grass met the sand met the hard rock. They talked about the stars, what they would call each on Bal’demnic, and the rest of the galaxy. 

They talked about themselves. Sitting across the archway from each other, plenty of space between them, but when they started talking about their pasts, it seemed like that space shrunk to feel much more bearable. 

Qimir came from a tribe called Jedi. He tried correcting her that it was simply an organization of sorts, of people unable to love and live like the rest do, but with a name like that, they would be a sick tribe. He described how he couldn’t handle staying with the Jedi, and she was curious why they weren’t allowed to love, but he brushed it off and she didn’t pick it up again.

He felt like he didn’t belong. So Kaibre confessed how the people would say Kaibre was sensitive to the air. His demeanor changed, getting up to sit next to her against the wall instead, nodding and heeding her confession like it was a prayer.

Kaibre told him how it felt sometimes like she didn’t belong in that tribe, where everyone was just a little wary of the truth about her, and he held her hand like she was an altar. 

She looked around the corner again, raising an eyebrow when she didn’t see him. She could clearly smell the sharp tea he was brewing in the corner, so he couldn’t have stepped out for long. 

“I’m over here!” He called out, walking in with a new pelt in his hand. He was wearing these hamaka pants, as he told to her once, dark along with a crossed wrap top. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you wait Kaibre- woah! Whoa, whoa, whoa, pause. Who is that?”

His eyes were narrowed in on someone behind her, and she, confused, turned to see no one. “Who?”

“Behind- Behind the wall??”

Kaibre reached her hand up the slit in her skirt, pulling out her cortosis blade with ease, as Qimir hurried to grab her shoulder and steady her. “Wait, it was just a little kid.”

“Come out,” She said steadily, watching the edge of the wall carefully. And out padded little ol’ Rhysin in all his glory. “Rhysin?!”

Kaibre sounded undignified, sheathing her blade back into it’s place, walking over to Rhysin with the intention to dragging him by the ear back to the village. Rhysin, sensing her intentions from a mile away, ran at his window and right to Qimir, grabbing onto the hamaka pants and tugging at them. By reflex, Qimir picked him up and turned him away from Kaibre. 

“Rhysin, hm? What brings you all the way here? With Kaibre?”

“He was supposed to be sleeping!” Kaibre emphasized. “Do you know how dangerous that was? What if you tripped on something? What if you got stuck in a hunter trap? Hm? I almost threw my blade at you!”

“Ok, ok, it’s not his fault he’s just a little curious. I know someone else that was just as curious as him too,” Qimir spoke easy to her, breaking down the tension and anxiety she had from seeing Rhysin here. The way he adjusted his grip to bounce Rhysin up and down to comfort him at the same time didn’t go unnoticed to Kaibre. He was a natural. “Besides, you’ve been hiding me from the rest of your tribe, isn’t it around time I saw some new faces?”

“Rhysin when we get back to the tribe, you are in big trouble,” Kaibre wanted, narrowing her eyes onto him. 

“Hey! Be nice to him.” Qimir all but pouted along side the three year old. “Who is this little adorable little monster anyways-”

Kaibre sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Rhysin, meet Qimir, the outsider and my friend. Qimir, meet my son, Rhysin.”

Qimir’s entire body stiffened up, looking appalled, shocked, and nervous at the same time. “Son?” He choked out, still bouncing Rhysin up and down. “I-I didn’t know you had a son.”

“It…didn’t come up…” Kaibre answered. Actually, she preferred that he didn’t know she had a son with no father, just appearing one day in her womb. Where was she going to start explaining that one?

Qimir hummed, and then just smiled at Rhysin. “Well, I don’t suppose you guys can make the trek back this late. Especially with this little one, and the pelt at the same time…”

Kaibre sighed, looking regretful. “Rhy, baby, why?”

“I wanted to see him too.” Then he had the audacity to pout. 

Qimir practically melted, pouting back and then at Kaibre, “Oh please, Kaibre, one night won’t harm anyone.”

“Qimir, you have a tiny bed. And I’m not sleeping on the floor because someone decided to play explorer tonight!”

“Actually, I have a new pelt,” Qimir pointed out, “And this little guy wouldn’t mind sharing now, would he?”

Kaibre pinches the edge of her nose. It’s alright, yes, but the fact her son would be this reckless…ah, what was she thinking? He was her son after all. Hers, and unpredictabilitys’. She couldn’t get too mad at him, but at the same time she had half the mind to chase him down the coastline all the way to the village the next morning. 

“C’monnnn.” Woah. When did he move that close to her? Qimir tugged at her shawl lightly, mindful of the way it would fall off her if he wasn’t careful. He and Rhys gave her matching pouting faces, but she was a little preoccupied with the fact she could count the strands of hair falling in front of Qimirs’ face right now, and the little laugh he did when he realized her staring. “The pelt is really really soft, promise.”

She sighed, nodding while Qimir and Rhysin both giggled in glee and celebrated in their own separate world. Rhysin was not going to getting off Qimir any time soon.   

When Qimir finally set him down, Kaibre practically flew at her chance to get her hands on Rhysin, by holding him upside down by the ankles. She emphasized her point while Rhysin giggled at her antics, and agreed he would never do it again (lies). They ate dinner in less tension after that, Qimir exuding off a strange energy. He seemed at unease, but acting completely fine otherwise. She gave him weird looks, ones that he couldn’t have not noticed, but he ignored them outright. It’s fine, she’ll confront him about it next him she sees him, without Rhysin here. 

“See? The pelt is pretty great, right?” Qimir laid it down in a carved out corner, perfectly fit for it. She supposes he’s been planning for a while after the initial discomfort of his ratty mattress dissolved. She told him good pelts were found further north, where the thick fur was essential in cold seasons. He even knitted a large blanket to match it. After securing down the pelt onto the bed and moving the pillows back, and placing the blanket on top, he stepped back to show it off in a “ta-da!” motion. 

Kaibre shrugged, picking up Rhysin and laying on one side with him, while Qimir laid on the other side. 

It was fine, it was incredibly warm and comforting on the pelt, and even the blanket insulated heat inside. Just the one night…

__

“Ammi, ammi, ammi, get up, get up, get up-”

Kaibre whines quietly, feeling warmer than she has any morning in a long time. She batted away his hand tugging at her arm, moving closer into the warm corner she was against, “Rhy, go catch rabbits, let me sleep…”

Rhy ran off, she rolled her eyes, leaning further into the wall— that wrapped back around her?

Kriffkriffkriffkriff, that was not a wall, that was mister ‘wall-of-muscle’ Qimir. 

But dank farrik, he was so warm. 

Her eyes fluttered just a little open, noticing that she was currently laying on his bicep (perfect pillow, wow) with his other arm pulling on her waist, fingers splayed around and over the rolls of her stomach where she was curled up. She sighed, content with the soft fur under her, the droning sound of Qimir’s breathing on her neck, and the warm vibrating off his chest. Rhys would be fine, no forest animal came near these caves…Kaibre could indulge in a while, just until Qimir woke up and realized what he had done accidentally in his sleep. 

She could hear a soft groan coming from him, probably the rising sun getting into his eyes before he was ready to leave sleep. She quickly closed her eyes. No need to let him think she was letting him hold her like that… 

But she didn't say anything when his breathing changed every so slightly from his sleep, and his arms furrowing deeper into his hold on her.

[nonbinary-alien25]

tag 9 people you want to get to know better!

tagged by @yourlocalegotisticalqueerishere thanks for the tag!

Last Song: currently listening to ICU by Citizen Soldier (at the time of starting this post). before that it was Gone Too Soon by Daughtry. at the time of finishing and posting this, i am currently listening to Lucky One by Simple Plan

Favorite Color: dark purple. always dark purple. dark purple my beloved <3

Currently Reading: nothing atm because i haven't had the chance to make another trip to the library, but the last book i read was The Meaning of Birds by Jaye Robin Brown! Very sad but very good. I've also recently read Stars, Hide Your Fires by Jessica Mary Best, The Many Half-Lived Lives of Sam Sylvester by Maya MacGregor, and I Wish You All The Best by Mason Deaver! I very much enjoyed all 4 of them, but I will say that The Many Half-Lived Lives of Sam Sylvester was definitely my favorite :)

Currently Watching: rewatching Star Trek: Discovery with my dad (and introducing my mom to it at the same time), watching Only Murders in the Building with my mom for the first time, and my dad and I just recently finished watching Star Trek: Lower Decks. plus my mom and I are always in a perpetual rewatch of Legends of Tomorrow and/or Arrow (though they've been on pause a little bit lately). now I'm just waiting for The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon: The Book of Carol to come back in late September lmao, among other shows

Last Movie: uhhhh I'm honestly not entirely sure. I think it might've been either Heart of Stone or Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, but I could be wrong about that

Sweet, Spicy, or Savory: definitely savory. i do love salt lmao. i do still have a bit of a sweet tooth but nowhere near as much as i used to, and now it's mostly reserved for white chocolate and other vanilla-flavored things lmao

Relationship Status: i am so, so incredibly, painfully single and i do not see that changing anytime soon unfortunately

Current Obsessions: uhhh, i guess my usuals? Citizen Soldier, of course, Legends, The Walking Dead, Star Trek. those are like. the main ones, idk.

Tea or Coffee: neither. i can't stand to drink either of them, they both taste nasty to me ngl. just let me have apple juice and i'm set

Last Thing I Googled: uhhhh ngl i think it was 'savory definition' just to make sure my "i love salt" comment would make sense LMAO but before that it was the 4 books I've read recently to make sure I was getting the names of the authors correct

andddd idk if i actually have 9 people to tag but i'll do my best.

No pressure tags: @forthehonorofgrey @chocolatemilk25 @for-forever21 @lochjhessmonster @lola-andheruniverse @justpalsbeingals @marimacha-tonto @mari-the-alien and anyone else who wants to! (just pretend i tagged you lol)

[justagalwhowrites]

Beskar Doll - Complete Tumblr Master List

The chapter master list for Beskar Doll, a slow burn, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers Mandalorian fan fiction. Overall master list here.

^unrelated, that might be my favorite Mando gif &lt;;3

Summary: “I said I’d get you there so I’m getting you there,” he growled. “I’m not letting some silly doll make me a liar.” He stalked off toward the fresher, but you followed. “Doll?” You demanded, raising your voice. “That’s what you think I am?” “Yes,” he said, turning back to face you, towels clenched in his fist. “A doll, some decorative, useless thing to sit there in pretty dresses and take up space. A doll.”

You have a knack for finding trouble, be it in the midst of Galactic Civil War or when trying to live the quiet life after getting out of the game. So when you're stuck fleeing your new home planet after pissing off the wrong people - again - there's only one person willing to take you: the Mandalorian.

But after years of fighting faceless men, you're not the trusting type toward someone always wearing a helmet and the Mandalorian quickly suspects there's more to you than he knows.

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

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence (and some beyond that), eventual smut, torture, mention of past domestic violence, PTSD, SO MUCH ANGST, absolute idiots in love. No use of Y/N. 18+ ONLY, minors DNI.

On AO3

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

Chapter 1 - Faceless Man

Chapter 2 - Lightning Storm

Chapter 3 - Battle Scars

Chapter 4 - Even the Score

Chapter 5 - Burn it to the Ground

Chapter 6 - Confessions

Chapter 7 - Old Friends

Chapter 8 - Ancient History

Chapter 9 - Reinforcements

Chapter 10 - Leverage

Chapter 11 - Battleground

Chapter 12 - Reunion

Chapter 13 - Kann

Chapter 14 - Learning

Chapter 15 - Found

Chapter 16 - Heat

Chapter 17 - Distance

Chapter 18 - Fire & Ice

Chapter 19 - Snake Pit

Chapter 20 - The Outpost

Chapter 21 - The General

Chapter 22 - Business

Chapter 23 - Beloved

Chapter 24 - Navigating

Chapter 25 - First Hunt

Chapter 26 - Making a Capture

Chapter 27 - Survival

Chapter 28 - Dreams and Drives

Chapter 29 - Homecoming

Chapter 30 - Out of Reach

Chapter 31 - Captured

Chapter 32 - The Palace

Chapter 33 - Stay

Chapter 34 - Jedi

Chapter 35 - Grogu

Chapter 36 - Unexpected Meetings

Chapter 37 - Understanding

Chapter 38 - Partners

Chapter 39 - Threat

Chapter 40 - Offer

Chapter 41 - Mindflayer

Chapter 42 - Search

Chapter 43 - Share All

Chapter 44 - Riduur

Chapter 45 - Taken

Chapter 46 - Naboo

Chapter 47 - Plans

Chapter 48 - Incursion

Chapter 49 - Gideon

Chapter 50 - Home

Beskar Doll Fan Art

"Know you anywhere"

[diazsdimples]

to spread some positivity, what are some blogs that bring you joy?💕

Hi! This is such a lovely question, so here are some of my favourite blogs!

@theotherbuckley - one of my very first 9-1-1 moots and one of the sweetest people on this site. Currently know for making some of the best bucktommy/118 tweets, doing INCREDIBLE bucktommy artwork, and writing some adorable fics.

@hippolotamus - MY LOVE! I'll never be able to yell about Hippo enough actually. Her writing is insanely good and will make you cry e v e r y time. Also has some of the most ouch edits you'll find, and is unbelievably skilled with a pencil.

@daffi-990 - Daffi is a fantastic author and one of the best hype people on the planet. She's just finished her Rival Firefighters fic, which is SO good, I urge everyone to go read it right now!! Also has an amazing Fantasy AU on the go, and some delightful fanart for it too!!

@bidisasterevankinard - Di is the OG of OG bucktommy shippers and has fully embraced multishipping to the max. She's the go to for all your Bucktommy, Suck, Saltommy, and platonic Buddie needs, and also one of the kindest people to exist.

@neverevan - Newbie has some amazing gif collections, both of the buddie and bucktommy variety, writes some incredible fics (including the Mudslide fic which I emplore you please go read) and also has some incredible takes on our beloved blorbos. Highly recommend

@spotsandsocks - 911blr's most favourite fantasy author lets be real! Spotty has written some amazing AUs, like the Dragonriders of Pern au, her Shifter Fic, and Author!Buck!! Whenever I see a dragon I think of our dear Spotty. One of the kindest mutuals a man can have.

@watchyourbuck - Sofia makes some of the most hilarious memes about the show and is a fucking delight to follow. Has fantastic takes, writes some positively steamy fics about both Buddie and Bucktommy, currently working on Murder Husbands and A.R.C.A.N.E.3 which I LOVE.

@bigfootsmom - Seriously if you don't follow Molly then what are you doing? An unbelievably talented artist that also manages to play with our emotions something wicked with their fics. Currently working on the seahorse girl dad Bucktommy fic that has me in such a chokehold it's insane, as well as the helicopter crash fic which might actually kill us all.

And some mutuals that deserve all the love in the world:

@wikiangela @steadfastsaturnsrings @lonelychicago @monsterrae1 @dangerpronebuddie

@cal-daisies-and-briars @inell @actuallyitsellie @perfectlysunny02 @aroeddiediaz

@exhuastedpigeon @bucksbignaturals @rainbow-nerdss @elvensorceress @lafdhoncho

@kinardbuckleys @kinkykinard @tommysdaddykink @gayhoediaz @jewishbuckley

@nilefreemans @doublecheekedkinard @tommykinardkink @buckevantommy @smallandalmosthonest

@djdangerlove @thekristen999 @loveyouanyway @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @slightlyobsessedwitheverything

@wildlife4life

And some non-mutuals that have amazing blogs, please go follow them right tf now:

@buckttommy @eddiebabygirldiaz @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels @lemonzestywrites @princessfbi

@try-set-me-on-fire @devirnis @prettyboybuckley