#shriff

sitting up, his back against the wall, poe looked down at where bandages were wrapped around his chest. it was better than it had been, but he was unwilling to take anymore bacta from mos pelgo, it was clear they needed it, and he wouldn’t take what they needed. so they were making do with bandages and antiseptic. which was much, much slower.

and poe was bored. 

@shriff​

     it wasn’t as though she wanted to be near here. she knew there was another tribe which had set out against the settlement before, heard word of it on the dunes; after word spread that a mandalorian was protecting the town, other tribes had given the small settlement a wide berth-- that wasn’t even including the dragon that would go move through the town. but-- as it was, she didn’t have much of a choice, either. her bantha had injured itself when her foot got caught in a small sandpit, and she needed proper materials to try and set her leg before continuing on her way again.

                                           why didn’t you leave?            [   how could i?   ]

he answers what he wants,   discards what he doesn’t.   djarin assures safety,  rather mind nor body.   cobb was a lingering thought at the base of his skull at all hours,  until he wasn’t.  until he was painted brilliance before his eyes,   and he’s meant to protect those colors.   cobb’s built a barricade,  but this does he tide against.              [       cont.      @shriff​      ]

what he hadn’t been expecting was a plate of food being placed down directly in front of him.   his chin lifts, helmet tilting to make it clear he’s making eye contact with vanth.   eyelids narrow.   “ I didn’t ask for anything. ”   𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜  𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠  𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎  𝚊𝚝  𝚑𝚒𝚜  𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚢’𝚜  𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎.   he doesn’t need people attempting to cater for him.   he can look after himself.   he’ll eat ... something when it’s safe to.   when there’s time, once they’re making progress.   

his jaw clenches, ignoring the pangs of discomfort in his stomach as the smell rises.   beside him, the child coos curiously and keeps his hands in his lap despite his own food going cold.   𝐚𝐧  𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧  𝐚𝐜𝐭  𝐨𝐟  𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.   eat  or  I  won’t.   “ I can’t ... take my helmet off. ”

that’s a comfort, or it would be if poe really heard him through the force of his pain and terror. but he knew enough to know that dying wasn’t his fear, at least not really, it was dying and leaving work undone, leaving people that still needed help. a war that still needed to be won. 

“you telling me or yourself?”

@shriff​:  33. (a kiss on the side of the ribs.) 

A hitch of breath as Vance’s lips strayed so very close to the synth-skin that had been put in place after her near death experience. There had been a rule imposed on her first few encounters after her rescue. No lingering too long where real flesh met the synth. She didn’t trust anyone (beyond Fett) to get that close to it.

Vance could linger as long as he liked (oh and he did) and there would be no word of complaint. To the contrary, fingers lingered in his hair, allowing him to remain where he was. Eyes falling closed. 

@shriff:  ❛  don’t  pretend  like  you’re  asleep .  ❜

With her back to him, he wouldn’t be able to see the slow smile that eased across her lips. She shouldn’t have been surprised that he could tell when she was only pretending to be fast asleep. They had been doing this dance long enough.

send fandom, get shitty preempire-flavoured muse

ok forewarning i have bad taste and have never consumed tolkien in any form of media but just, like, off the top of my head, i wanna play this guy