#shriff

[foxhelm]

@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. 

No words. She didn’t any with him.

[foxhelm]

@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.

Slim form shifted and she looked over her shoulder at him, the smile lingering. “I wasn’t pretending, I was attempting.” Fen rolled fully on her other side, eyes lifting to look at his face. “I do have to leave early for a job tomorrow.”

[preempire-a]

tolkien . 👀☕

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

i have NO IDEA what his name is i had to google “hobbit guy beard” omg... i just learned his name is thorin oakenshield... i love his vibe he seems to have that sense of honour thing that i find compelling to write (AS IF DIN DJARIN DIDN’T GIVE THAT AWAY)

[preempire-a]

@shriff sent: “  would you just sit still? you’re gonna get an infection if you don’t let me clean this up.  ” ► FROM THAT SPECIFIC BRAND

“You’re doing it too slow,” is the Mandalorian’s argument in turn, even though in his mind he knows that Vanth is careful with his work to be gentle.

He’s not used to it, though. Not used to this. Having worked alone for so long, wounds in his arm are usually tended to with cauterisation instead of letting them heal underneath some well-placed bandages. The swipe of alcohol over the marked space is something he hasn’t felt in a long time, but then again, he hasn’t been part of a squad in a long time. He misses the Fighting Corps for that alone; missions were always easier when he had others there to make up for what he lacked.

The alcohol that Vanth uses is cold against his skin, and the temperature gets him more than the sting does. The cool wash of it lasts longer than the sharpness of having the wound cleaned. Dimly, the Mandalorian is aware his shirtsleeve is torn and that he’ll have to sew it up later. It’s a good distraction from the fact that Vanth will have to sew him up now.

It’s that reality that Vanth is taking care of him that has whatever fight that had been building in him subside. The Mandalorian sighs, helm turning slightly to catch the curve of Vanth’s shoulder with his visor before it tilts up to find his face. “...sorry.

“I’m just not...” His helm turns away again, staring resolutely at a spot on the ground. “Nobody’s fixed me like this in a while.”

[resistanceheir]

@shriff sent:  “ the things you lost, you gotta let go. ”

his jaw is clenched tight, hands balled into fists, and it’s taking all of his control not to yell at cobb when he says that. maybe it’s childish, foolish, but it doesn’t matter to him. poe doesn’t just let things go, never, he carries all the things and peoples he’s lost in his chest. not mourning, that’s not the right word. he feels them like a fire inside him. 

“no!” his control snaps, already frayed at the edges by inaction. and that’s what it feels like here sometimes. he isn’t the marshal here. he can’t fix anything, or save anyone. and he needs to be useful, otherwise that fire inside him starts to burn him up.

“i don’t just let things go, that isn’t the way i work.” he runs a hand through his hair, trying to focus his words so that they will even make sense to someone else. “it’s fuel. every loss? i use it, because i am fighting a war, i don’t just get to lay down and rest when i want.” and that’s not what he’s doing here, as much as he sometimes wants it to be.

[resistanceheir]

@shriff​ sent:  ... gives poe a smooch .

“thank you.” he grins up at the other man, affection has always come easily, naturally to him but he knows that isn’t the case for everyone. “what did i do to deserve it?”

[parjir]

[   after  rain  rests  quietly on  cement  and  metal,    the chasm in those otherwise thickening weather clouds allows for the moon to luminesce,   park the darkness and dress the cityscape in the glow.   it’s a little too poetic,   a little too quintessential in it’s class for the rest of their lives play like a cinematic,  in this look shared between din and cobb.   his eyes study that which trembles before him,  thin in history and heavy in tone,  and it probably lingers there for moments too long.   perhaps he’s doing as din djarin would,  and he’s collecting evidence in every shift and tension.   perhaps that’s a falsehood.   or perhaps he’s here because the truth lied in the thick of it all,  that the second in a party of two reminds him of far too much of himself.  cobb sits on a pedestal,  and thought something of a martyr,  of guts and backbone and membrane.   djarin senses a coup in cobb’s head,  and his curiosity is poised to strike.  

                                           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​      ]

                             ❛❛  why didn’t you?    ..   it’s late.  very. ❜❜   

[rcfekjwtaardby-moved]

@shriff [x]

Cobb was the only person he could go to after all that had happened. He did not want to become one of Fett's mercenaries, although he promised to help him if necessary. He didn't want to get involved in Mandalore and the Mandalorians too. He left the black laser sword at Bo-Katan's feet and left. What she would do next was not his concern. Some traditions were silly to follow. None of them would have said a word if Bo-Katan had declared that it was she who defeated Gideon. Gideon will be in jail and won't be able to say anything either. Cobb didn’t want anything from him and therefore Mando could spend time with him.

“He left with the Jedi. Now he is with one of his own and can learn their tricks. "

Din really wanted to get drunk, but he didn't want to take off his helmet. He felt too defenseless without him and especially now.

"Have you ever seen a Jedi?"