#I went to read a fic tagged as an F/F ship I really love

[theglizzardwizard]

Him deleting his shit is not enough I need to kill him with my bare hands. I need to look him in the eyes while he dies. I need to disembowel and eat him. No cooking no seasonin I need his heart raw handed. Do you know what hate feels like?

I'm allowed to be happy about this because he fully earned the harassment. Fuck around and find out. Nasty bitch!!!

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: Swim

Read on Ao3

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Ship: Joel Miller x you (cishet f reader)

Tags/warnings: Yearning, Joel is bad at feelings and doesn't understand hints (or just chooses not to), female nudity, ogling.

Summary: You take a swim in a lake while Joel watches. That's it, that's the plot.

Words: 2,046

There's something about moving through the forest where nothing is heard except for the wind in the trees and the birds in the sky. The smell of moss and resin fills your nose, and the air is so clean it's almost making you high. The ground yields slightly under your boots, making it seem like you're floating forward. This is a far cry from the crowded quarantine zone with its downtrodden pavements and smell of dirty people. If you didn't have this, you would probably have put a gun to your own head a long time ago. But you do have this, and you greedily grab each and every opportunity to experience it.

Joel's breathing heavily behind you. The two of you have been walking for hours and even here, in the shade of the trees, it's a little too hot for comfort. Your hoodie is tied around your waist and you're in your t-shirt and jeans only. Joel's still soldiering on in his flannel. No wonder he's boiling.

Between the trees, you see something glimmer. Water? You stop and stare, Joel almost walking into you.

"Watch it," he grumbles, perhaps more to himself than to you. When he realizes that you're staring off into the distance, his hand goes to the gun at his side. You hold out your hand to let him know it's okay.

"Is that a lake?" you ask, pointing in the direction you're looking. With a deep exhale, Joel wipes the sweat from his brow before squinting.

"Looks like it."

"Let's go there."

"We're making good time," he objects, but you can see he wants a break.

"We're not expected back yet, and we need to rest," you point out. "I'm getting hungry."

"Alright," he agrees, and you lead the way, your feet even lighter now for knowing they're getting rest.

The lake is just as lovely as you hoped for: clear blue water, surrounded by forest and with cliffs on the opposite side, a family of swans swimming in the middle of it. You find a spot where willows grow right by the water, and their crowns serve as giant parasols as you go down to the water's edge. The water is refreshing but not too cold, and you exhale in a satisfied sigh as you splash some in your face. A light breeze comes in from the water, and you close your eyes against it, smiling as you forget the state of the world for just a moment.

Behind you, Joel groans quietly as he sits down on a small, flat rock and picks out rations from his pack. Biting into the tough jerky, he looks as morose as ever when you turn towards him.

"Lighten up, Miller," you can't help but tease him, "when was the last time you went on a picnic like this?"

"Who says I've ever been to one?" he glares. You shake your head and pick up a piece of dry meat from your backpack.

"That explains so much."

You turn your back against him and look over the waters. The swans, two parents and four gray babies.

"Swan babies are called cygnets, did you know that?" you ask, admiring the graceful birds.

"No."

"My mom taught me that. There was a park near where I grew up... there were swans there every summer..." Your voice trails off. You and Joel never talk about the past. And although it's been so long, you still miss your mother terribly. Thinking about what once was can be dangerous. It can make you long for something better, and there doesn't seem to be any light on the horizon.

"Swans mate for life, don't they?" Joel asks in a low voice that makes the hairs at the back of your neck rise. Nobody can drop down as many octaves as Joel when he speaks about things he really doesn't want to share - or when he's trembling with held back rage, fists tightly closed, ready to start swinging.

"Yeah," you confirm, your tongue suddenly a little thick in your mouth. "They mourn their dead partners, too."

He grunts something at that, and for a moment you are at a loss at to what to say or do. It has been clear to you for a long time that Joel cares about you, although it's easy to miss if you don't know him. But you do know him, or at least know something about him, and you know for sure that he wouldn't have been with you for such a long time unless he cared. The easy camaraderie you share may not be physical or affectionate, but it is one of the few good things you have in this world.

That, and the forest. And this beautiful lake with its clear, fresh water that glitters in the sunshine.

You become aware of how sweaty and dirty you are, and it's very easy to make up your mind.

"I'm going for a swim."

"What?" Joel raises a brow at you, and his chewing stops for a second.

"I'm going swimming," you articulate, bending down to untie your boots. Joel gets up, frowning in discontent at you kicking off your boots. You straighten your back and meet his gaze.

"It's not a good idea," he tells you.

"We're too far away for infected, and we haven't seen anyone here for days," you shrug. "It's just a quick swim. We're far more exposed when we sleep in the forest at night."

Joel can't argue with that, but he tries.

"There's other things out here to watch out for."

"What, Jaws?" you scoff as you untie the hoodie from around your waist, and throw it on the ground. Joel's grim face lets you know he's not amused, but it's too nice a day for you to get into a scowling match with his grumpy ass.

You pull down your jeans, and he averts his eyes.

"It's not safe," he insists.

"You're here, aren't you?" you point out, your voice a little more subdued now. He glances at you before looking to the side again.

"We should get going." His objections are getting thinner and thinner.

"You are more than welcome to walk on," you shrug before pulling your t-shirt over your head. "I can take care of myself. You dont have to wait for me."

"I know - " He turns back to you and notices that you are, in fact, quite naked. Your panties are in a heap at your feet, and you're stepping out of them. His gaze is burning on your bare skin and you bite into your lower lip as you raise your chin.

"You sure you don't want to come into the water?" you ask him quietly. Joel tears his eyes from your body, finding your gaze again. He swallows, and that tiny crack in his composure is all the encouragement you need.

"Or maybe you want to watch?" you add, a little leery, but a tremble runs through you body as you realize that you are flirting. And Joel is not scoffing, not looking at you with contempt, not running away. He kicks a little at the ground, almost looking at you sideways, but his eyes are glued to the ground.

"Go ahead, then. But make it quick."

The water is wonderfully cool and you wade out slowly, testing your footing for each step. The bottom is rocky, but most of the stones have been smoothed flat, and almost slippery with seaweed. When your thighs are steeped, you lean forward, push off with your feet, and glide through the water. You gasp at the initial coldness but your body quickly becomes used to the temperature. Your strokes are first slightly clumsy, unaccostumed to swimming as you are, but your muscles quickly remember how to do it.

"Don't go too far out," Joel calls from the shore. So he is watching. You glance back to catch his eye, but he's busy scanning the surroundings.

The joy of taking a nice swim on a hot summer's day is not diminished, so you turn around, treading water, and call back: "Come on, Miller, don't be a landlubber! You can swim, right?"

He looks at you then, face resting in the shade of the willow, eyes scrunched up against the glitter on the surface of the lake. You wish he could let the his face relax, just for a little while, just for a moment so that you could see what he looked like before the world as you knew it ended, on a sunny day by a forest lake, with friends and family, maybe lovers, or by himself, perhaps fishing, just enjoying life...

"I can swim, but I won't if you get yourself in a situation," he now warns you, and you sigh. Sourpuss.

"The water is really nice..." you tempt him, floating on your back and wiggling your toes at him. He crosses his arms over his chest, gesturing a finality that you just don't feel like arguing with. There's a part of you  that is angry with him for being so uncompromisable, but you can't blame him for being who he is. If he wasn't who he was, he might not be alive, he might not be the one who protects you, he might not even be here with you.

You dive, arms and legs carrying you back towards the shore, and resurface, drawing air into your lungs. Now Joel is staring at you, as if your disappearing underneath the surface wasn't of your own volition. His shoulders sink a little when he sees that you're okay. Your feet touch the rocky bottom and you stand up, the water reaching you to your chest. Slowly, you make your way to the shore, your eyes fixed on Joel's. Your nipples knot under his scrutiny, and when the water reaches halfway up your thighs, his gaze drops to the dark triangle fully visible above the water. Your skin has cooled off but heat begins to pool deep inside your belly, traveling up your spine before dripping down between your legs. You don't stop until you're standing right in front of him, blinking droplets from your lashes, lips parted to let your excited exhales escape.

Joel rakes his eyes over your wet body, takes it in like no one has in years, like you had never imagined him capable of, and you have often imagined him as a man of a significant amount of talents. You don't shrink under his scrutiny, quite the opposite: you relish it. You want him to worship you with his eyes, take his fill, feast on you until looking is no longer enough.

He raises his hand, that rough, large hand that has pulled countless triggers, hurt innumerable people. You're not afraid, you've never been afraid of him. Palm up and fingers slightly bent, his hand is moving almost in slow motion towards you, to touch your breast. You wait, heart skipping several beats, and you almost flinch when his calloused palm brushes against your soft flesh.

Something rustles in the shrubbery behind Joel, who reacts in a split second. With one smooth move, he has pulled his gun, spun around, and is pointing the gun at the edge of the forest. Your legs shake as you take a step back to get closer to your backpack, where your gun is. But before you get to take it out, the lower branches of a bush nod, and a rabbit hops forward.

You both stare at the damn critter like you've ever seen one before. Eventually, Joel lowers his gun.

"Fuck."

You exhale in a strained chuckle. "Shoot it, we'll have dinner."

The rabbit, however, has already fled at the sound of human voices, and Joel is clicking the safety back on his gun before he puts it away. Without turning around, he tells you in a tight voice to get dressed.

"I want to be back before nightfall."

Fighting to control your trembling hands, you slowly get dressed and grab your pack. Stomping past Joel, you swing the bag widely onto your back. It slams into his arm, but you don't apologize.

He never apologized for bruising your heart, so why should you apologize for trying to protect it?

[italianpersonwithashippersheart]

This post (link) by @respectthepetty (hope you don't mind the tagging) made me think back at all the missed poly oppurtunities BL has given us and I decided to make a list.

First Shout Out to the Only Confirmed Poly So Far (Both F/M/M): 3 Will Be Free and Me, My Husband and My Husband's Boyfriend (the last one I have not watch so be cautious I do not know the ending)

There is two BLs that hint at a poly solution (M/M/M): My Mate Match & Tinted With You.

It's only a hint but if you are starving for it it will do.

NOW ONTO THE MISSED OPPURTUNITIES:

CHOCO MILK SHAKE: The title is in all caps because I am still so bitter about it, the second couple came out of nowhere for me and I am bitter as hell!!!!

Light On Me: The only good love triangle I ever saw and one of the only ones that actually made me believe that a poly ending could work in canon.

Happy Ending Romance: I am not as emotional about this one, but I do remember watching and thinking why can't he just date both?

Oh My Assistent: Same as above

Gen Y: Mark-Kit-Wayo: LAST BUT NOT LEAST! I am so mad about this, it was right there. All the peaces laid out, Wayo deserved it. And so did I Damn It!! I have been wanting to see the actors that play Wayo and Mark play a ship together since I watched the first 2 Moons and thought that they had super great chemistry.

Regarding the La Pluie one, the one in the linked post, I did thought about it, but I think it's not the right drama for it.

Not just because I want Tien to be happy. Even though I really do!! But also because I feel like this would go against what the show is trying to say with the soulmate plot.

If there was another character that had scene with Tien and that could filled the role of a secondary love interest then maybe it could work but as it, I don't really want it, even though I do see it, don't get me wrong.

Anyway suggestiongs of more dramas are welcomed. I for one have a few that are less missed oppurtunities and more like "There's An Idea" poly ships. If you guys want to read that list is:

Not Me: Gram-Black-Todd (I love this one - but Black is also really shippable, I am following a Black-Yok fic with great pleasure)

Until We Meet Again: Read two fics about the two couples dating each other or having a "one night stand" of sorts and thought the idea was neat.

Bad Buddy: I never went there but I know there are fics with a poly relationship between Pat/Pran and either Wai or Korn (or both). Not too mention the fics the Our Skyy 2 crossover most certantly brought about.

History 4 Clost To You: When I first watched it I had a moment during the first scene where I imagined the plot of the drama to be Ten and Li Cheng competing for Xing Si affection with a poly ending and I fell in love with the idea.

[thevikingwoman]

Author Interview

tagged by @galadrieljones thank you!

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

57

2. what's your total AO3 word count?

197,188

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Dragon Age, Uprooted (Naomi Novik), Wayfarer IF, Final Fantasy XIV.

only the latter two in the past year.

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

Temporal Arrangements (Dragon Age Inquistion, Solavellan, E) Time Travel canon-divergent AU

Home (Uprooted - Naomi Novik, Sarkan/Agnieszka, T) Canon coda

Ar Lath Ma (Dragon Age: Inquisition, Solavellan, T)  Post canon fix it fix

Pies (Uprooted - Naomi Novik, Sarkan/Agnieszka, M ) post happily ever after domestic fluff

Temerity (Dragon Age: Inquisition, Solavellan, E) post canon enemies/not really enemies bdsm smut

5. do you respond to comments?

I try to respond to all of them! I love getting comments and when I comment I love getting replies on comments myself.

I may forget though, and I'm sorry! I love comments

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

God Slayer (Solavellan, T) I really like this one.

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of my fics have happy endings, though I really like them with a tinge of uncertainty or bittersweetness.

the most straight up happily ever after is probably Hay, (Solavellan, E) which is just a very self-indulgent little happy fic.

8. do you get hate on fics?

I don't think I ever had?

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

I do write smut! I love writing smut, it's such a good challenge and it makes me happy. I love characterization through smut - and it's such an interesting way to do characterization. That said, sometimes I'm just thirsty and I want to see two characters smash. I'm not pretentious about it. I'm here to have fun and I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to read or write porn.

I write all sort of smut? I do love playing with power dynamics in sex scenes.

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

The closest I've written is Comfort, a Solavellan vampire fic, which uses some BtVS lore? It's not crazy tho!

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of either. I think I'd be a little apprehensive.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope. I'm not sure how i'd do that? writing feels like a solitary thing, even when asking for feedback and input.

The closest is a shared timeline/ideas where my OC interact with another person's OC and both of us wrote in the same continuity.

14. what's your all-time favourite ship?

hmmm. Once I've not written for and probably never will, Spike/Buffy.

if it's writing for, I'd say it's still Solavellan.

15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I think if I want to finish it, I will? I have some old WIPs, but the reason I'm not finishing them is lack of want? Do or do not kinda thing I think.

16. what are your writing strengths?

I've told I've had good pacing. I think I write pretty good smut.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

Descriptions? I tend to not want want to describe things. I'm also not great at moving characters through space - he went to the door, he looked out etc? I tend to slip into passive voice when writing characters moving around unless it's combat action or sex.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

nope.

"Hello," he said in Spanish

is perfectly valid.

A few short words like endearments - where the speaker would use a specific term in a different language than what's spoke is fine. Items that are specific and not translatable and would typically be borrowed words in a different language are fine too (kimono. computer. kayak)

19. first fandom you wrote for?

Dragon Age

20. favourite fic you've written?

This is SO hard. I was just looking at some old fics I really really love?

but I think right now, I'll pick my newest fic, Passing Through (wol/Tansui, E) because I love it very much and I had so much fun with it.

tagging @myreia @roguelioness @coldshrugs @allaganexarch @bearlytolerant @buttsonthebeach @scionshtola @galadae @wickedwitchofthewilds @redinkofshame @ellstersmash and @kittlesandbugs and anyone else who wants to! tag me!

[fairydares]

figure this blog could use a pinned post now

[There's a chance I follow you if you follow me, but it'd be under my main username: @underestimated-heroine]

pfp is some of Mashima's official art of Lucy Heartfilia.

***How to find any post on Tumblr via tags (requires desktop, handy to have in the Fairy Tail fandom imo)***

***Incomplete, informal FT fanfic rec list, and here's another***

***If you make Fairy Tail fan art, here's a reminder that you can tag ft-reboost to get your art more reblogs (they want you to!)***

-i block art reposters and anyone who reblogs them too often to be a mistake. period.

-on why we don't link our kofis etc. specifically on AO3 (idgaf if you make money off fanfic. in fact, have at it...just don't link ur Kofi or PayPal or anything on AO3 because it endangers the archive.)

-This blog is firmly anti-censorship and anti-harassment. This includes being against anyone who throws around words like "romanticize" and "normalize" or "don't like don't read EXCEPT [ship type/sex-related thing you've decided doesn't count as fiction]." I am also defending stuff I personally wouldn't read with this statement. (My own words & more on this, non-graphic cw/tw for basically all the depraved content this discussion entails.)

*tbc I don't like to make DNI's Like This, but due to some personal life experiences, a harassment campaign I went through once upon a time over a (not even sexual) fic I wrote, and some troubling trends and language I now see in this fandom, I feel the need to be clear and also show some solidarity with darkfic writers and enjoyers.

MORE IMPORTANT THAN ANY OF THIS THOUGH.

My Writing

*have never opened up my inbox for fic recs. might someday, if anyone's even really interested, but not right now*

-(Mis)Communication: Gajevy week prompt I wrote f o r e v e r ago, it feels like! AO3 Rating M. Basically Levy misses Gajeel on a girls vacation with Lucy, Juvia, and Cana & tries to sext him. shenanigans ensue.

-Chasing Tails: scrungled-ass Next Gen fic. AO3 Rating E. Premise is that the NaLu child, Nashi, wound up on Our Earth as a child then forgot her family, Fairy Tail, and Earth Land by the time she was 17. Then Natsu finally finds her. Lots of the original beloved FT characters are missing in the beginning and there's a mystery as to why that is. Believe it or not, this fic is supposed to be more humor than anything, at least to my heart. Updates are going slow right now but I'm getting better chapter by chapter, and I'm determined to finish.

-Ice and Igni: feral baby mammoth next gen fic based on the Stone Age Omake, which fascinates me. AO3 Rating M. premise is Greige & Nasha "discovering each other" sort of like Natsu and Lucy did, with the necessary premise feature that the male and female tribes were separated long ago under mysterious circumstances (why do i love doing this?)

-Reminiscing on the Hard Road: a Gruvia one-shot where I basically give one version of events that might have led to Juvia and Gray getting together through memories. Couple-angsty, breakup & makeup fic with a happy ending.

-Series I did for Nalu Week 2024 (AO3 Link). Day 1: Cuddling/Nightmare - "Princes to Dragons" (Link for on here). [This is still coming out 😬]

There are others, but i don't feel they're worth mentioning. if you're intensely curious you can find them on ffnet. all fairy tail, for now.

[moonnue]

20 Questions ♥

Thank you @anisaanisa for tagging me! ♥ I've been meaning to do these tag games but I'm always busy-- I'm actually free at the moment! And it's cool that it's a fanfic quiz, since I've just gotten into posting my stuff hahaha

How many works do you have on AO3?

Only 6 so far! I've got lots in the works but I don't like sharing 'till I'm done :3c

What’s your total AO3 words count?

29,294

What fandoms do you write for?

I've written for InuYasha, Portal, and for the little Toothfairy fandom but as far as what I've posted I'm currently, and very obviously, into Baldur's Gate 3. Other fandoms I've written for are Toilet-Bound Hanako-Kun, Jujutsu Kaisen, and Spice and Wolf

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Hands On A C(l)ock (441) Portrait of a Vampire (366) Shower Break (337) Cheeky Little Pup (73) Erotica of a Vampire (51)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I don't orz. I first posted to Ao3 in 2020 and then walked away so when I came back to post the next part I was like !!! oh shit!!! people left comments LOL I felt embarrassed for just letting them sit there and now I'm kind of stuck. Plus, I feel weird going to everyone and just saying "thank you!" I REALLY APPRECIATE IT I'M JUST…….. AH!

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Not posted but it's going to be the KagKik fic I'm writing :3c Otherwise I don't like angst oops

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Shower Break, I guess? or Cheeky Little Pup? Idk, I'm even looking at my WIPs but I'm not sure how some of them are gonna end yet!

Do you get hate on fics?

Technically I experienced my first recently when I had a person try to accuse me of stealing their fic and then went on to try and drag my name through the mud. That was exciting! (sarcasm)

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

it's………. it's my main thing. oops. i write second person f/o x reader fic cuz i'm cringe and free <3

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

SOOO NOT WRITTEN! YET! But I do have a ton in mind. I think the craziest one I'd ever want to write if I got the balls to do it would be an RSK x Madoka Magica fic cuz I just think. It would be fucking funny. Given RSK are real people so I'm like ehhh maybe not. Otherwise I think the only other one is an InuYasha x Labyrinth crossover but that ain't too wild. It's been done before!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of! Also, I can't help but find it strange, the idea of stealing fic. Do people actually do this lol

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Technically? Friend of mine write together from time to time, but again, nothing posted.

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

You x Your Favorite Character

What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I have a story started that's about Naraku getting isekai'd into another world where he's the hero of it. I think it's pretty funny but getting myself to start it has been a little tough.

What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm really good at capturing character voices. I also think I'm good at describing emotions.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I think my sentences could stand for a bit more of a unique structure. I don't like writing place descriptions very much, I'm very character focused.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Sure…? Why not! Do it!

First fandom you wrote for?

InuYasha <3

Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Care For A Wet Dog, oddly enough, even though it's unfinished. I don't know, there's something about it that I really like. It's older and I think I kind of miss how my writing used to be? Then again whether anyone else sees a difference, I wouldn't know.

not tagging anyone just cuz i...... i don't know who to tag! uh! i dont want to bother anyone lol! so if you see this and wanna do it please do! and tag me in it because if i inspired you to do it i would love to read it! (and maybe keep you in mind for any future tags? maybe? hm? *nudge nudge*)

[celeste-fitzgerald]

thou brought this upon thyself.

get to know your fic writer asks:

7, 10, 11, 12, 19, 20, 23, 24, 25, 34, 37, 43, 45, 46, 53, 56, 59, 63, 64 and 74

:>

Girl you're crazy lmao ily

7) How do you choose which POV to write from?

Oh damn that's a good question! I don't have a good answer to this one, I usually just think about whose eyes it would be more interesting to see through for each fic.

10) Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

Uhhhh. I haven't been doing much writing lately. And the one fic I have been working on, "blinks" isn't in there (and neither is "blink"). So I went back to 2 other wips I haven't added to in a couple months and THOSE DON'T HAVE "BLINKS" EITHER. So I just searched "wink" instead so here's that one. (Unfortunately for you dear rufusrant you've already read what I have so far on this wip, but for everyone else, here's a teeny tiny snippet of the next chap of Learning How To Love You.)

Richard winked and inched toward the seat on George’s right. “Well?” 

11) Link your three favorite fics right now

Oh lord let's see. I'm interpreting "right now" as "currently on my mind," so these are ones that I've been reading and/or have been posted recently. for mutual benefit by thestartofnothing (fandom: JJBA; ship: jotakak) Not Lost In Translation by @007waffles007 (fandom: JJBA; ship: avpol) She Makes Me Smile by @007waffles007 (fandom: ELO; ship: mik/kelly)

12) how does receiving or not receiving feedback/support impact you?

Well as with any writer, I love feedback! Though after being in some tiny fandoms (or at least tiny from a fanfic perspective) I've gotten more used to not getting much feedback. All feedback is very very very appreciated of course, but feedback/support from 1 or 2 friends tends to make me very happy regardless of what other kudos/comments I get.

19) What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

To the surprise of literally no one, it is "fluff" (283 fics).

20) Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

Already answered!

23) Best writing advice for other writers?

Write what YOU want to see, regardless of whether you think other people will like it.

24) Worst writing advice anyone ever gave you?

I honestly can't think of any?

25) What fic do you wish you got more of a response on?

I don't knowwwww!! I spent a while looking through my fics to see if any of them fit, but that just ended up being me going "oh I forgot I wrote that, that one was cute!" for 15 minutes haha. I think I'm fine with how things are tbh.

34) Five years from now, where do you see yourself as a writer?

Man I don't know where I see myself in five weeks XD Mostly I just hope I'll still be posting fluffy oneshots on ao3 and sharing fic ideas with friends.

37) How do you choose where to end a chapter?

Not really a good way to answer this one, just where it feels right. But that's entirely dependent on the context of the fic.

43) Do you take a sadistic joy in whumping your characters, or are you more the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" kind of person?

😭I'm definitely more of an "I want everyone to be safe and happy" kinda girl. When I make the characters suffer it's usually very mild suffering. Though, fun(?) fact about me, when I daydream about my fandoms, the daydreams often get pretty angsty and rough. But those ideas usually remain as daydreams because it would be too hard to actually write them.

45) Do you want to break your readers‘ heart or make them laugh?

Laugh and smileeee.

46) How would you describe your style? (Character/emotion/action-driven, etc)

Oh emotion-driven 100%.

53) How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?

Ooh, that really depends on my mood and how long I've been in the fandom for. When I get into a new fandom, I tend to read tons and tons of fics, then much later I'll actually start writing for it. And I tend to spend less time reading the longer I've been in a fandom. But every once in a while I get hit with an urge to spend all night reading fics.

56) What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

Oh boy let's see...I think I'm pretty good at giving readers warm fuzzy feelings? And I love when I'm able to do that.

59) Does anyone in your personal life know you write fic? if not, would you tell anyone?

Yes. A small number of my in-person friends. Plus my parents and my sister. But I'm pretty sure my sister still thinks it's stupid lmao. My dad's great about it though. Oh and my gf!!

63) Something you hate to see in smut.

Huh, when I read this question, I thought "oh boy, I'm gonna have lots of things I hate." But now I'm...struggling to come up with any? There are certain things I like more than others, and things I need to be in a certain mood to read. I guess maybe just when the relationship feels unequal. Don't like that.

64) Something you love to see in smut.

When the characters laugh/joke around/etc. Just anything to show them being really comfy and genuine with each other in such an intimate moment.

74) You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it?

I have posted a fic anonymously. Try to find it >:) (not you, rufusrant, you already know it's me.) Haha but in all seriousness, probably by me going "ahhhhh thank you" in every reply to every comment lmaooooo.

:>

[baratrongirl]

Fanfiction Trope Meme

Stolen from @pigeontheoneandonly, who I don't know at all. Saw it in their blog and went "I like these questions". Rules: copy/past and bold your fic preferences and tag someone to do the same. I don't ever explicitly tag people because I don't want anyone to feel put on the spot when they could be having a bad week/month/year. I'm interested in all my friends' answers, so answer the questions if you want to.

slow burn or love at first sight. (Good question. I tend to think that love at first sight is unrealistic, because you only know what someone looks like, not who they really are. So I suppose I prefer slow burn where the affection grows as the people get to know each other.)

fake dating or secret dating. (Ugh, I like both! Though secret dating wins with Klapollo - dating in secret because Klavier's a rock star and they don't want the tabloid hassle.)

enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers. (This is how my relationships have worked in real life. We've always been friends first - at least for the relationships that have actually LASTED.)

oh no there’s only one bed or long-distance with correspondence. (Ack! I can't decide! *squishes Klapollo into one bed* vs LDR with Apollo in Khura'in and Klavier in Los Angeles/Tokyo?)

hurt/comfort or amnesia. (HURT/COMFORT. Finally, an easy one!)

fantasy au or modern au. (This one depends on the original setting. If it's a fantasy setting, a modern AU. If it's a modern setting, then a fantasy AU!)

mutual pining or domestic bliss. (Get it together, silly boys! Of course, I'm talking about Klapollo again. With some of my other ships, I prefer them to simply communicate and sort their relationship out.)

smut or fluff. (I like both BUT if we are simply talking about tropes in the absence of plot, I prefer Porn Without Plot to Fluff Without Plot. Fluff Without Plot leaves me feeling unfulfilled, like I ate candy floss when I wanted a meal. Fluff WITH Plot is fantastic, and I've written quite a few Teen-rated fics myself. Smut is definitely not essential for a good story.)

canon complaint or fix-it fic. (Fix-it!!)

alternate universe or future fic. (AUs are fascinating.)

one-shot or multi-chapter. (Depends on the story, of course. If it's high-quality, I can easily read 150k of fic in a night. What is this "bedtime" thing you speak of?)

kid fic or roadtrip fic. (I am not really a fan of either, but I LOATHE kid fic. Fan-created OC children make me break out in metaphorical hives. Though - I say that, and I would still absolutely love to read a story where Trucy (aged 25+) offers to be the surrogate for Klavier and Apollo, since she is Apollo's sister and has the most similar genetic makeup to him. I guess I'm more interested in the negotiations (will they accept it? Does Klavier even WANT children which are genetically his considering how Kristoph turned out?) than the actual part where a baby exists.)

reincarnation or character death. (NEVER character death, I hate it - and it's an actual squick to the point of being triggering with my main ship. Whereas reincarnation, finding each other again and again in different worlds over time - OMG I love.)

arranged marriage or accidental marriage. (Especially if accompanied by queer lawyers with legal shenanigans.)

high school romance or middle-aged romance. (Middle-aged fans demand middle-aged Blorbos! 35 is not "old", you teenage Narumitsu fans.)

time travel or isolated together. (Can't decide. As long as it's not a tragedy where they're separated by time, or where one is already a ghost while the other is alive, I don't much mind.)

neighbors or roommates. (No actual preference.)

sci-fi au or magic au. (Slight preference for magic, but only because SF is hard to write well.)

body swap or genderbend. (No preference, though I should perhaps observe that F/F Klapollo are barely any different to M/M Klapollo unless you're writing smut. Body swap, however, is hilarious because you have Mr Tall, Skinny, and Beautiful suddenly inhabiting the body of Mr Short, Buff, and Ordinary - and vice versa.)

angst or crack. (Angst with a happy ending. But I do love a good crack fic too!)

apocalyptic or mundane. (Mundane please. Apocalyptic fic stresses me out instead of being fun.)

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

A Savior and a Wayward Daughter

A Savior and a Wayward Daughter https://ift.tt/1UpCzuT by littlemissravenclaws Not giving a shit was great, it gave me so much power to do whatever the fuck I wanted in class and otherwise, and became my soul purpose in life around twelve, when I realized no one gave a flying-fuck about me. Except maybe Cas, I think he cares a little bit. ------ Dean has a seventeen year old daughter that he knows nothing about, until one day when Cas decides to let Dean in on the secret. Problem is, rough around the edges Sarah has been jumping from foster home to foster home since she could remember; Cas has fallen, and Dean has no idea if family ties will be enough to save them all. Words: 3228, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Series: Part 2 of Like Father like Daughter Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Sarah Winchester(OC), Amanda Heckerling Relationships: Destiel, DeanCas, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel & Dean Winchester Additional Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester - Freeform, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dad!Dean Winchester, au but not really, im a beggy chooser and I’m choosing the parts of SPN I vibe with, Canon compliant but only kind of and when I want, no betas we die like men, I’ll equipped and unprepared, in which Dean has a child and Cas knew the entire time, But he never said shit and now that Dean has admitted he’s in love with Cas he feels betrayes, Cas never went to SuperHell, Takes place after the angels fell and the gates of Hell were closed, Cas is human now, And dean is grappling with how to be a father and unwrite the sins of his past, in which Sarah doesn’t believe him or trust anyone, and Dean and Sarah knowing each other heals wounds neither one knew they had, used to be savior, an abandoned fic from ten years ago that I’m rewriting, if you originally read Savior I’m glad you’re here, Originally posted on AO3, And I’m coming back after resolving my own Daddy issues via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/QjdfLe5 September 17, 2023 at 07:23PM

[ao3feed-danganronpa]

with these things there's no telling we just have to wait and see

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/9Q63oOn

by delightfullydiscordant

Xander's desire for it is overwhelming. He yearns for it with every fiber of his being. He believes that he wants it more than anything he has ever desired before. He craves a future with Teruko, a family with her.

However, the mere thought of admitting this terrifies Xander, and as he gazes at the ring, picturing it on Teruko's finger, a fear engulfs him, reminiscent of the days before he and Teruko had met.

(Because would she really want that too?)

Words: 4302, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 7 of Xanruko Week 2023

Fandoms: Danganronpa: Despair Time

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M

Characters: Teruko Tawaki, Xander Matthews, J Rosales, Arei Nageishi, Charles Cuevas, Whit Young

Relationships: Teruko Tawaki/Xander Matthews, Xander Matthews/Teruko Tawaki

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Canon, Canon Related, Canon Rewrite, Pre-Canon, (?), Future Fic, Alternate Universe - Future, Plans For The Future, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa), Fan Characters, Fan Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa), Xanruko Week 2023, Xanruko, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Ship It, Love, Falling In Love, Love at First Sight, Declarations Of Love, Idiots in Love, Prompt: Free Time, Ran with this, J and Xander friendship real???, I RAN with my headcannons with this one, I see no God up here OTHER THAN ME, jarei, Charwhit - Freeform, Background Relationships, What I Say Goes, Happy Ending, I Trample All Over Canon, What Do You Mean This Isn’t How Their Lives Went, The Author Regrets Nothing, THROWS HAPPY ENDINGS AT ALL MY FAVES, One day i’ll write a proper story to explain all the plot holes I’ve left in here, good ending, i love them, This Is The AU Where They All Got Therapy :), Characters Are Adults, Characters Are Over The Age Of 18

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/9Q63oOn

[karkaday]

Thank you for tagging me! (I'm @bearywarm but I'm using my fandom account)

1. How did you get into reading/writing/drawing femslash?

For a couple of months in early 2020 I was like 10k miles and 8 timezones away from home in a kinda isolated place and a handful of hours of free time a day. I was very bored and on my Instagram explore page i came across some accounts making up fake social medias aus for characters from BNHA

Some of them paired Momo with Jirou mostly as a way to "make space" for the main M/M pairings. Frustrated I went like "there must be some better way to enjoy something like this" and that's when I started reading fanfics on ao3

2. What are your favorite femslash ships?

Momo/Jirou will always have a place in my heart but Fuyumi/Miruko has quickly become one of my favorites

3. Which F/F rarepair(s) do you wish got more love and why?

Most F/F are basically rarepairs and i want all of them to receive more attention but I would love to read more Inko/Midnight and Inko/Rei as a way to explore the various interpretations of Inko

4. What is your favorite thing about drawing/writing femslash?

Femslash allows a much better exploration of female characters while giving them their own agency and complexity without reducing them to one-dimemsional characters

(basically it boils down to the fact that generally speaking female characters are much better written in F/F fics)

5. What is your greatest challenge when drawing/writing femslash?

I'm a very slow writer (maybe because English isn't my first language) so my biggest challenge is finding the time/mental space to sit down and write. I also had lots of real life stuff to get through before i could really write.

A more fandom related challenge is that I'm disappointed about how some of the themes in the ending of bnha were handled. It made the whole manga less enjoyable as a whole. It also coincide with stuff IRL and i couldn't manage to write much. Hopefully I'll soon get back into the groove

Another big challenge both in bnha and one piece (my main fandoms) is the lack of meaningful canon interactions between female characters

6. Do you prefer reading/writing femslash one-shots or longfics?

I usually prefer longfics but there are lots of good one-shots

7. What is your favorite/most underrated F/F fic you have written or F/F thing you've drawn?

I mostly write for the fun of it so i dont really care about numbers. I'm genuinely surprised people read my stories at all!

My least read fic is a short one-shot with a f/f pairing so rare that no other fics have it as a tag on ao3

A fic that i enjoyed writing was Dancing Bears Painted Wings, a momo/jirou fic with the classic amnesia trope. Stats-wise is in the middle for my fics which is quite good for a two-shot!

8. What sort of background pairings do you like to see in fics with F/F as a main pairing?

Generally speaking I don't care about the type of background pairings as long as the f/f ship is the main one but i have a couple of ships that i tend to avoid

9. What are your favorite tropes in F/F fics?

Love me some mutual pinning and getting together but also some classic temporary amnesia or soulmates aus

10. What tone or vibes do you prefer in femslash fics? Crack? Angst? Fluff? A bit of everything?

I'm a big Fluff and Action enjoyer but i like longfics so some angst is often needed to create tension

11. Are there any specific fics or other forms of media that inspired you to write/draw for a specific ship?

Mild-Mannered School Teacher/Adrenaline-Junkie Vigilante by JajaLala got me completely hooked on Fuyumi/Miruko when i first read it and it became one of my favorite pairings ever!

12. Are there any specific F/F WIPs you are working on or ideas you’ve cooked up that you’re especially excited about?

At the moment I'm re-reading one of my old fics because i want to continue that series

13. Any fic recs?

Mild-Mannered School Teacher/Adrenaline-Junkie Vigilante by JajaLala is still one of my favorites (bnha, teen, 136k). Vigilante!Fuyumi. Fuyumi/Miruko with a focus on fuyumi and the todoroki family.

fs in the chat and other forms of emotional support by crossroadswrite (bnha, mature, 4k). Momo/Jirou. Crack. Fun Chatfic with a lot of sexual humor

I know there are others if like to recommend but right now i can't find them, sorry

Not tagging anyone but if you read this and you want to do it, consider yourself tagged

femslash writer/artist interview

I’m trying to get back into interviewer mode for one of my jobs and classes, so I decided to make a (hopefully) fun little game. Feel free to reblog, tag ppl and answer as few or as many of the questions as u want. And feel free to tailor the questions to make them more applicable to u

How did you get into reading/writing/drawing femslash?

What are your favorite femslash ships?

Which F/F rarepair(s) do you wish got more love and why?

What is your favorite thing about drawing/writing femslash?

What is your greatest challenge when drawing/writing femslash?

Do you prefer reading/writing femslash one-shots or longfics?

What is your favorite/most underrated F/F fic you have written or F/F thing you've drawn?

What sort of background pairings do you like to see in fics with F/F as a main pairing?

What are your favorite tropes in F/F fics?

What tone or vibes do you prefer in femslash fics? Crack? Angst? Fluff? A bit of everything?

Are there any specific fics or other forms of media that inspired you to write/draw for a specific ship?

Are there any specific F/F WIPs you are working on or ideas you’ve cooked up that you’re especially excited about?

Any fic recs?

@pianogav1n @jajalala @vriska @linkyychan @thisisej

[she-toadmask]

Turns out I really like polyamorous ships. Especially when it's a big group like

Just lots of really cute and sweet interactions between different people

Or cuddle piles n shit

idk it just feels really nice

[fangurk]

Puppy Love (The Cullen Family x Child! Werewolf! Reader)

Key:

Y/n - Your Name

Y/h/c - Your Hair Color

Y/e/c - Your Eye Color

Y/f/c - Your Favorite Color

Y/f/f - Your Favorite Flavor

Prompt (given to me by @inrice): but could you do something along the lines of the cullens (mainly alice) takes upon the job of raising a werewolf!reader? who's a child of course.

Summary: Alice Cullen stumbles upon a very strange, very lonely child while out on a hunt and, in true Cullen fashion, decides to take them home. Nobody knows how to take care of a werewolf or a child, but when they put in a collective effort (and bring in the help of Bella) things start getting easier...

Warning: Is this kidnapping? It might be kidnapping, fluff, slightly angsty at some parts, AU because Caius is cruel, and potentially odd genderless terms of endearment.

A/n: family fic makes the brain go brrr. so like i didn't really know how to handle the whole werewolf thing because the twilight lore is so... bare... and i wanted to write more on the family parts so it's not like a real focus but it is mentioned quite a bit. I hope that's okay! /gen

Word Count: 1.2k+

Alice wasn’t able to foresee you.

She simply stumbled across you one day on a hunt, your tiny body curled up at the base of a tree. You smelled so much of dog she almost mistook you for one, and then you looked up at her with big y/e/c eyes and she knew.

Carlisle wasn’t very happy when she brought you home.

“The Volturi will have a field day with this.” He says as he repacks his doctor bag. “The child is dangerous to have around.”

“But they're all alone, Carlisle. You said it yourself, they looked like they were out there for days— and I waited there with them until nightfall, no one came…”

Her shoulders fall and she looks at the door separating them from the rest of the family.

“Oh please just let them stay, we’ll all take care of them— if anything we’re better suited for it than anyone!”

Carlisle opens his mouth to protest but is interrupted by Esme opening the door, you asleep in her arms. All of his hesitance melts away at the sight, and at the sound of your small snores.

He sighs. “Fine, the child can stay— but we have to be careful.”

Alice nearly erupts with her joy, and Carlisle tries to hide a smile.

──────────────────

They give you a nice bedroom.

Rosalie, Alice, and Esme take an entire day to shop, nearly clearing out three children’s stores in the process. They build you furniture and they paint the walls a pretty shade of y/f/c; you now own more toys and clothes than a kid can possibly comprehend.

You spend the day with Emmett, the only Cullen boy who’s comfortable getting close to you, and he introduces you to the wide range of children’s cartoons. Your browsing ended with Crashbox, something that had the big man far more into it than you, but it was fun nonetheless.

“Want to see your room, Y/n?” Rosalie hums, poking her head around the corner and flashing you a dazzling smile.

The ladies let you wander around the new space, excitement brightening your features.

Emmett is still enraptured by the TV long after you’re put to bed.

──────────────────

Most days are good days.

Even if two of the family members seem a little afraid of you, you’re happy. You’re fed and clothed and loved.

But then there are bad days.

You wouldn’t eat. Nothing Esme made you was satisfactory and you were too upset and overwhelmed to let anyone know what you wanted; everyone tries to comfort you, even Jasper with his powers, but none of it really seems to work.

And then Edward comes home.

He left at some point during the crying and everyone figured that he was just bailing ship like he usually does when it comes to you. But, in reality, he somehow managed to get a cohesive reading of your mind and immediately went to someone who could help him.

“I brought Bella.” He says, gesturing awkwardly at his equally awkward girlfriend when five sets of frustrated eyes land on him.

“And I brought chicken nuggets…” The brunette human raises the bag up with a smile.

Everyone watches in confusion as you perk up a bit.

“Uh, here.” Bella crosses the room and places the bag down in front of you.

You open the bag and immediately start eating, sniffling but no longer upset. Every Cullen is reeling in shock.

“Well. What do you have to say to Bella?” Alice clears her throat, giving you an encouraging smile.

“Thank you, Bella.” You mumble, mouth full of food.

“Oh- it was actually Edward’s idea.”

You turn and thank him, beaming, and he gives you a crooked smile in return.

Afterward, Edward doesn’t really avoid you anymore.

──────────────────

‘Children of the Moon’ don’t pass their lycanthropy onto their offspring.

Alice doesn’t like to think about it, but sometimes the implication that someone bit and infected you consumes her mind and it makes her want to cry.

──────────────────

On the days they go to school, you do too.

They figure it’s good for you to spend time with other kids your age, and it seems to be. You always come home with crazy stories of playtime adventures and smelling of paint and crayons; the teachers love you, or more so the bright little woman who picks you up from school.

“Draw your family.” The teacher encourages one day.

You draw the Cullens.

When you proudly hand it to Alice when she picks you up from school, she lifts you up in a hug. Jasper frames your little drawing and puts it up next to all of their graduation caps.

──────────────────

The full moon is pretty horrific.

In order to keep everyone safe from your tiny claws, they keep you in the basement. For hours before the transformation, you just lie down there and wail-- you’re only little, it’s only fair.

Alice sits outside and talks to you the whole time, her voice wavering and her hands shaking.

She doesn’t move after the wails turn into howls, even if it would be safer to do so.

──────────────────

“Does Jasper hate me?”

You’re wrapped up in bandages, sitting on the picnic blanket with your adoptive mother and eating a sandwich too big for you as her husband pretends to do something down by the water. Alice is completely blindsided. They’ve sort of explained what they are to you, and you’ve kind of filled in blank spaces to the best of your ability, but she’s still unsure how to explain Jasper’s hesitance.

She doesn’t wind up having to.

“No,” He says, sitting down next to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “I don’t. I’m actually quite fond of you darlin’.”

That alone seems to satisfy you and, over time, he loosens up a bit.

Jasper seems happier than he has in a while, listening to you talk about things little kids talk about, and Alice watches fondly with a smile.

──────────────────

One of them reads a story and tucks you into bed every night.

Most times it’s Alice, sometimes Jasper joins in.

Tonight is one of those nights. You’re clean and showered, dressed in a cute little pajama set, and nestled under the covers; she’s lying down next to you, Goodnight Moon open in her hands, and he’s in a chair next to the bed.

“... goodnight noises everywhere.” She finishes, smiling at your drooping eyes and lulling head.

Carefully, she unwinds herself from you and, with the help of her husband tucks the blanket under your sides. You tug your favorite stuffed animal close to your chest, y/e/c eyes closed, and a smile on your little face.

“Goodnight, y/n.” “Night, kid.” They each say, Alice bending down to kiss your head and Jasper opting to stand there and smile.

“G’night mom and dad.”

Jasper’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head and he turns to face his wife quickly.

Alice Cullen, the girl who forgot half of her life, never felt more whole than she did standing in your room, holding her mate’s hand, and turning off the light as the hushed sound of a cricket’s song filled the big house...

tag list:

@batmanunicorns523

[txemrn]

Hey, friends!  I'm ready to see some of y'all's future projects, whether they are fics, text edits or picta edits! Tags will be at the end, but if you are reading this, please consider yourself tagged to share!

If you're interested, check under the cut to find some of my current WIPs: 2 TRR snippets and 2 OPH snippets!

Thank you so much for all of the support! *hugs*

----------

Pour Two Glasses, Ch. 5: TBD  

TRR; Liam x Riley, Drake x Riley

As she approaches a knoll, a large shadow grants her body brevity from the warm sun. She brings a hand to her forehead, shielding the brightness from her eyes. She strains to make out the broad shapes and chiseled lines of the man standing before her. His eyes shimmer with the brilliance of the Mediterranean, his skin like the soft sands of Nissi.

“My love,” he smiles endearingly at her; he cups two filled wine flutes in one large hand as he extends his arm out towards her, his open palm ready to take her into his arms.

“My king,” she breathes, her heart swelling at the very presence of him. She drops her skirt. She draws closer to him as a smile brightly bubbles across her lips. It’s him; it’s really him.

But as their fingertips almost touch, Riley missteps.  She trips over an imperfection in the terrain as she falls to her knees, her hands catching her on the ground. As she looks back to her husband, he is gone.

“No,” she whispers as she frantically scours the rolling hills around her.

----------

TBD (one-shot)

Open Heart; Ethan Ramsey x f!OC (Tatum Erikson)

“Ethan?” An older man grabs the young boy's skinny arms, gently shaking them to wake him up. “C’mon, buddy, it’s your birthday.”

“Dad,” the preteen groans, “just five more minutes.” He dramatically flops over, pulling the covers over his head.

“Well,” his father takes a seat on the side of his bed, “I guess then a certain eleven-year-old won’t get to open a birthday gift before his party–”

Ethan quickly lifts up the covers, peering at his dad with one eye barely open. “Really? I–I can open a gift before tonight?” Alan Ramsey holds up a small, wrapped box in the shape of a cassette tape. “No way… is that…?” He throws the covers off of his body as he sits up, stealing the present from his father.  He puts his ear up to it, shaking it gently. He scrunches up his freckled nose, his wide smile exposing his lone, cute displaced tooth as his crystal eyes dance with amazement.  “Did you get me the Pearl Jam album?”  

“Don’t know,” Alan feigns ignorance, shrugging his shoulders. “Guess you’ll have to open it up.”

---------

Stay, Chapter 3: Don't You Speak for Me

TRR AU; Drake Walker x f!OC; f!OC (Reid Ambrose) x ?

About this snippet... the Ambrose Siblings: Reid (24), Tana (21), Nick (18)

Tana looks to Reid with concern. "There are protests down in the villages–violent ones." She sighs, "they had to call in the national guard," she clenches her jaw. "They started mowing down Auvernese like dogs."  

The siblings fall silent as Reid takes in these words, confusion and a sense of anger etching across her face. She had taken the back way home; this was the first she had heard about any violence.

Thinking about all of the displaced people, her people, that sought safety in Cordonia during the war, Reid blinks back tears.  She kisses her niece's temple before attempting to change the subject, hoping for something less gloomy.

"So... where's Papa?"

Tana and Nicky exchange worrisome glances to one another before focusing on their older sister. "He went looking for you–"

"What?" Reid hisses, handing baby Mila back to her sister. "And you let him go?" She opens the front door and begins to unlock her bicycle. "How could you let him go?"

----------

Like Ships in the Night, Prologue: We Finally Got it Right

Open Heart; Ethan Ramsey x f!OC (Tatum Erikson)... and other former pairings...

Recinching the white satin belt of my short, lace-trimmed robe startles him into a double-take.  “There you are,” he beams brightly at me; he offers a guilty smile as he claps his hands. “Nothing was open at 1:30 in the morning except…” he sighs, “the golden arches.”

Raising a playful eyebrow, I saunter closer to him, closing the gap between us. As I wrap my arms around his thick, swole musculature, his taut, strong arms envelop my own body. He pulls me closer, pressing me lovingly into the flat planes of his chest.

“Mmmm…" I nuzzle into him, "it’s perfect. My husband did good,” I steal a fry.

He smirks before kissing my forehead. He looks at his watch. “It’s been–” he clicks his tongue, “--nine hours? I really hope I haven’t messed this marriage-thing up too badly just yet. Although, I’m not so sure that feeding my wife McDonald’s on her wedding night is being a good husband.”

"I think you're doing a damn good job on keeping her satiated, Mr. Ramsey," I giggle under my breath.

The man truly is a god. His glorious tongue and nimble fingers permeated secret parts of me during our quaint wedding reception earlier, making us swiftly take our exit during the main course.  Even now after spending four breathless hours making love, I look up into those possessive crystal eyes, and my arousal instantly awakens.

God, I need him.

-----------

Who wants to share with the class? @sfb123 @charlotteg234 @socalwriterbee @ofmischiefandmedicine @inlocusmads @mvalentine @kat-tia801 @debramcg1106 @harleybeaumont @angelasscribbles @nestledonthaveone @cariantha @starrystarrytrouble @ao719 @queenrileyrose @peonierose @kingliam2019 @bebepac

And seriously... if you see this and you weren't tagged, PLEASE participate! This is for everyone! 💜💜💜

[possessionisamyth]

If I may add onto this, as I've been writing fic and fanfic for well over a decade, I can give you some ideas on why they're not going over well.

Hits don't really mean much. Whether someone read the first paragraph of your story or they got all the way to the end, this counts as a hit. Clicking on your fic counts as a hit even if they just went to look at any comments or to see who left kudos. They're the equivalent of Facebook video views where scrolling past counts as a hit so the numbers are bloated.

Kudos tell you more in that they got to the end and enjoyed the piece. Some people are a little forgetful, and some people get to the end and don't like it so they don't leave kudos. Unfortunately, you still can't exactly base this percentage number on hits, since fandom size varies and people who are super active on the video/art/gif end of fandom may not be on the fanfic side at all.

Comments have gotten rarer due to a more unfortunate internet culture shift where people think "they're bothering the author" especially if the fic is old, or using the excuse of "feeling guilt tripped to leave a comment". Like, idk, if you can't leave a comment, a kudos is still perfectly acceptable but they won't even do that sometimes. Entitlement has always been a problem on both ends, but its gotten weirder now.

Check the date of when other fics were posted. Older pieces are going to have more hits and/or kudos because they've been up longer. This is more of a time available thing than a quality thing. Keep that in mind.

Multi chapter fics are going to have more hits as well for the same reasons. The same audience members are clicking on the story multiple times to change chapters or pick up where they left off if they closed the tab.

Explicit or Mature fic will always get more hits and/or kudos. As much as people want to say ao3 has more than just porn, and it does, it's still very much the porn fic site. You don't see most people cross posting all their stuff to livejournal, wattpad, and fanfiction.net if it weren't just the porn fic site.

I've seen the most absolute dogshit written smut get kudos and it baffles me, but people will click on it because they're horny and desperate, hence the hit inflated numbers.

I've seen the most well loved and well written gen fics get nonya from the fandom. It's infuriating.

Speaking of which, ship fics will also always get more hits and attention. Most of the ao3 audience automatically filter out gen fic. Yes, most of them, regardless of their sexuality, are looking for their blorbos to kiss and fuck and get together or break up 6000x times in 8000x ways. Gen fic gets left in the dust every time and you can tell by the numbers and by the fandom. Very rarely do fandoms have them even, but these fandoms are tiny and about a show where possible love interests are scarce or are not white.

And, for the meanest but truest part of my explanation, most of the ao3 audience are still fujoshis at heart.

Deny it all they want, the numbers don't lie. If there are 2 pale men in the show, or 1 pale man than can be paired with a brown man, that ship will rule the tag. It won't matter how many well written women are prevalent in the narrative. It won't matter if those two characters they're shipping shared eye contact for 5 seconds. They're now the most popular and most specialist content the majority can produce art for, and everyone else has to suffer for it.

I've watched this happen in real time, and I've experienced it first hand pretty recently where I wrote a fic for an M/M ship. Had one of the guys cross dressing? Yeah, that's fine. Realize the character isn't in drag and is actually a trans woman from how you're writing the follow up so you change the tag from M/M to F/M? Immediate dead zone for the sequel. No more hits for the prequel despite it being fairly popular and well liked. It was... disgusting actually.

And for the Newest and most recent change is way more people deciding not to read multi chapter fics until they're finished. This is definitely an engagement killer! I've gone to unfinished fics, left a comment on each chapter, and the author picked up where they left off immediately because they're so thirsty and wondering if anyone gives a shit. I got a page long comment on a fic I left dead for over 2 years and it encouraged me to finish it in a week. But this type of "impatient" audience member is more worried about never getting an ending, so they don't bother thinking their encouragement to the author could very much get them to the ending.

There are so many things going into whether or not your fic will turn out to "flop". The most you can do is post for yourself first, share with your friends second, and make stranger reception a third or even a fifth priority.

Something that helped a teensy tiny bit in upping visibility count for a particular fanfic I wrote in a dormant fandom, is posting in the fandom tag(s) on tumblr. This is done by sharing a short snippet (my hook) and adding a link to the end if they're curious enough to read more. Whether or not they kudos or comment I can't measure, but the hits have steadied out for the multi chapter fic.

I hope this gives you a better idea on whether or not your fics are flops, or the much more likely reality that they just don't reach the very baseline thought process of the active fandom audience on ao3.

How many flops do you need to churn out before you accept that you're just shit at writing?

(I know, I know, writing should be fun and something you do for yourself but validation is also nice. There's a difference between 0 vs 100 and 100 vs 200 kudos or likes.)

[gaiuswrites]

Original Sin | Darksaber!Din

Pairing: Dark!Din x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ older for the love of all things holy)

Word count: 3.4k~

Summary: Things change after Grogu leaves. People change. No one is exempt.

Warnings/tags: DUB CON?¿, masturbation (m and f), inappopriate use of darksaber, sex toy (...), Dark!Din, Dom!Din, sacrilegious references, really dark shit, i am so sorry

Update: This should go without saying, but as it turns out, it’s in need of being said: every word written in this fic is my own; any likeness to any other work is coincidence, regardless of how bizarre. I don’t mean to offend anyone or raise suspicion, as I am certainly not a plagiarist (literally couldn’t be even if I tried: I am equal parts too incompetent, too busy, and too lazy to steal from someone else. Fellow writers can attest, I’m an absolute garbage reader and fall behind on almost everyone’s work. There’s an embarrassing amount I haven’t read.) Please reach out to me personally if you have any concerns. I respect everyone here like you wouldn’t believe. Sending love to you all. Be well. ✨

Notes: When I go to hell (it really is only a matter of timing, and not so much a question of if anymore), this fic will rank number one on the list of reasons why I’m sent to my eternal timeout. This... I'm twisted. I have issues. God help us. Seriously, this is basically a horror show. I bow down to the Darksaber!Din content creators who came before me, and the original artwork that inspired me to write this— thank you for lighting this (descending, dirty) path. I HAVE TAGGED A FEW PEOPLE HERE WHO MAY OR MAY NOT BE INTERESTED but really— REALLY— there’s absolutely no pressure. Cheers friends x ( gif credit: @skyshipper )

Masterlist | Read it on Ao3!

The days stretch long like morning yawns—hours passing on creaky bones, slow and congealed inside the metal womb of the Crest.

It wasn’t always this way.

They used to be filled with pitter pattering— with wily antics and vanishing acts that could baffle even the most veteran of illusionists— with prying frogs from tiny, green hands and giggling as blocks and baubles floated through the hull. Laughter. There used to be laughter here.

But that was then. The child is gone now. The Razor Crest is quiet.

Time fills itself like this; there’s little for you to do now but wait. Wait for the dusk to blur into the dawn. Wait for your food to cook. Wait for the shower to warm. Wait for the parts you ordered to arrive at the port. Wait for Din to come back—to come home.

Home. You used to be so certain—you’d bite the head off anyone who questioned otherwise— but you’re not so sure this is home anymore. Its not that anything has changed. No, the galley, the carbonite pods, the cockpit, the deck—it’s all still here. The scuffed walls, the durasteel, the littered crates and packed arsenal. But—

It’s different. It feels different. Something is...

off.

You can’t quite put your finger on it. Its intangible, but it’s everywhere—like gas. Invisible to the naked eye, but encircling you all the same. Choking you.

Killing you.

There’s no good explanation for it. You feel eyes on you when there are none. You find yourself glancing over your shoulder, knowing full well you are alone. Something keeps snagging you, pulling at an unseen thread. The corners of your peripherals tugging at you. Beckoning.

Was that a shadow? No.

Is someone there? It’s just you.

There is a tickle at your ear - a constant - dancing along the shell of it. Wherever you go, it follows.

Home home home. It only feels like home when Din is there, safe and sound at your side. But even then, even Din—in all of his plated exterior—even Din has succumbed. Even Din has

changed.

The truth is, Grogu left and a part of Din left with him. There’s less of him now— more, too: there’s less where it matters, and there’s more where there shouldn’t be.

You don’t remember when it started—when he first disappeared. When the spark in him died, and he was reignited anew.

When this Other became.

On multiple occasions you’ve caught him murmuring into the bellied dark of the Crest with a bent spine, hunched over himself as if he’s shrinking—enveloping in in in as far as the beskar along his chest will allow him to cave. You can never pick up what he mutters, but you catch the sounds of his teeth and lips brushing together, hissing. It’s not Basic; you’d recognize it if it were. You don’t think its Mando’a either. It’s too sharp— too vile. There’s none of his language’s elegance in it.

“Did you say something?” You asked once, poking your head around the doorway, eyes resting on the shine of his helmet.

A beat—and slowly, he unfurled, rearing to his full height and like a sentinel he swiveled, pivoting to face you.

“No.”

Your throat bobbed. “Oh, I-I thought I heard-”

“Come here, mesh’la.”

And you did. You always do.

The darksaber appeared on his belt one day, shortly after the child went away. It came, only once, and there it stays. Indistinguishable - inseparable - there is no dismembering the two. It accompanies him in all things; when he pilots, when he hunts, when he eats. It sleeps by him.

By you, too.

Din has always been stoic—of scant words and physical timing—but now he is a golem. A silent, shrouded figure. His Creed is broken, and you wonder maybe - briefly - if Din is broken as well. He is never unkind to you. He is never threatening. But he is never him. His eyes— the oaky comfort you once found in them— have blackened. He is a pit.

Din Djarin is a pit of a man.

And within that pit he has born rage. Immaculately, it has sprung from him as woman did by Adam’s rib. Like mold growing upon stale fruit does he have this—this wrath. It crept through him. It stalked along his soft flesh— his tawny hide—and it waited; patient, there in the shadows, it waited for him. Waited for him to turn his back, to close his eyes and drop his guard— leeway, an entrance— as to slip in undetected.

To inhabit.

The virtue and love that once thrummed within the heart of him has burned away. Charred. Only this of him remains; this insatiable lust— for blood sport, for the promise of split knuckles and fractured bone, for you.

For all of you.

Now, Din goes out on bounties like he needs it—like it’s oxygen. He lives off it. He’s sustained by the rush, by the adrenaline laced chemicals pumping through his arteries. He’s gone for days and weeks on end and when he returns, he fucks you like he’s been starved. Out in the wilderness without a morsel to eat, he devours you. He’s ravenous as he tears his way across your body—all too pliant for him, all too willing—letting him feast on the nectar dripping from your heat.

You can feel it in his foot steps as he storms the ship, the bassy echo of it. You can see it in the pitch of his visor. You can feel it in his cock as he slams into you, night after night after night—ceaselessly. Tirelessly. Unnaturally. The number of orgasms he wrings out of you is countless—his need so incurable, you have to fight to stay above it all; you have to war against your urge to slip away completely.

Din is one grey choice - one hair trigger - from coming undone.

And you should be scared. You should be terrified—he should terrify you. Like scalding water, you should flinch away at the mere sight of him—at the warning steam that rises from his pauldrons. This predator, unhinged and off his leash—a great, crushing beast at which you are at the mercy of.

But— you aren’t.

You couldn’t place it at first: the gnawing. The gnawing at your insides like maggots festering upon a grizzled carcass hanging limp at a wet market. You couldn’t name the tremor in your gut. You gave it epithets as best you could, you gave it placeholders - fear, worry, intrigue - all until one day it spilled. One day it seeped past the tremble of your stomach and sank lower, lower,

lower.

It settled in your cunt—the gnawing. And you named it Want.

You want him. You want this—you’re addicted to it. This sin like led-lined velvet, you want to roll in it until it poisons you, until you’re smothered with it, just like it’s smothering you now— blanketing you as you mewl naked in your bed, knees knocked together. Your eyes roll back into your skull as you frantically work circles into your clit with the all consuming thought of him: his teeth at your shoulders, his hand around your windpipe.

You’re nearing your finish, the promise of that tight coil unraveling there - there - right before you. You’re so enrapt in it—in this dizzying, wanton act—you don’t register the ramp lowering. You don’t hear the carbonite chamber whir, his quarry freezing over, or his foot falls sounding their way to your bunk.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You gasp, frightened eyelids wrenching open as his baritone timbre crackles through the hull. The Mandalorian stands there, backlit by the glow from the galley and he looms—expressionless. Haunting. You blink at him rapidly, batting away the desire that’s glazed over your eyes.

“Y-You’re back,” you stutter lamely. You try to smile. You try to distract him. “I uhm, I didn’t hear you come in. I thought you wouldn’t be back until, u-until..."

Your excuses fade, mouth parched dry. The film of his visor gives you nothing. He is unknowable, but you feel it - sense it - that energy—unbridled and rippling off of him in sick, suffocating waves.

“I’ll ask you again,” Din starts.

“What-" he steps towards you, darksaber hanging heavy at his hip, “do you think-" you shimmy up your cot, shoulder blades digging into the steel sidings, “you’re doing?”

Your heart thunders against your chest, beating until you’re sure it’ll burst.

“I’m-"

I’m sorry you almost say, and you have to force yourself to gulp down the apology. You know he doesn’t want it, and he knows you wouldn’t mean it even if you offered it to him.

Your brow wavers. “I-"

He rips away the sheet you had drawn up over you and reflexively you jerk back, revealing the gloss on your fingers and the patch of hair above your mound, shimmering shamefully—exposing you, mocking you under the dim lights.

“What’s this?” he asks, and fuck he’s patronizing you. He’s smirking—you don’t have to see it, you can hear it in the curving lilt of his voice as he drinks in the sight of your very obvious indiscretion, laid bare before him. You can’t bring yourself to answer him—you can hardly look at him—and you bristle, hair on your arm prickling up.

“You fuck yourself speechless, little one?”

Your cunt throbs, burning and contracting around the orgasm that was snatched away from you and fuck, you’re drowning in him. Din is tar—he’s an oil slick, and you’re plummeting through it—gasping for air, for the surface, for sunlight. He’s everywhere—his broad frame, his voice, his scent like copper and smoke. You can barely breathe through the thick of him.

“Answer me,” he growls, leather croaking at the clench of his fist.

“Yes—yes,” you utter, proceeding with honesty, no matter how pathetic. “I missed you,” you squeak out.

Din cocks his head, a smug look scowled onto his visor. “You missed me?” he purrs through a sneer and you nod, precious and small, worrying the inside of your lip.

He sinks one leg and then the other onto your bedroll, just between your parted feet, kneeling before you. The flimsy spring mattress squeals under his weight—all of that armor, all of that boiling soot trapped within him.

“How much?”

For a moment, you must look confused. Puzzled. Your eyebrows furrow as Din unclips the saber from his belt, rolling it over in his hand. You rake your gaze up from it, dilated pupils landing on the unforgiving black panel there.

“You claim you missed me. Prove it.”

Your cunt bottoms out.

He crouches over you, tracing along your inner thighs with it's steel shaft and you bury your fists into the cot. You don't know which to look at: Din or the rod in his hand. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you trust me.”

Fuck, it feels like you’re going to rattle apart. There isn’t an inch of you that isn’t humming—isn’t seizing up wild. “I-I trust you,” you mouth softly. And you do, whether you should or not—you trust him with your life, to make or ruin.

“Fuck, you’re wet mesh'la,” he appraises darkly, leaning in to run a leathered digit through your seam, parting your curls. Your legs twitch, heels of your feet digging into the bed. “So ready for me. So eager."

Your eyes dance frenetically down to the handle and back up to him as he aligns the saber with your pussy. The blunt end of it touches your lips and you shudder, instinctually fidgeting away from it. Din splays his hand on your knee, anchoring you in place. “Shh,” he coos, rubbing a thumb soothingly into your skin. It doesn’t feel sweet. It feels sickly, cloying— like arsenic.

You don’t dare breathe as he prods the shaft into you, inch by terrible inch. It doesn’t matter how slicked and wet you are from touching yourself, your walls strangle the foreign intrusion. Your body resists.

“Fuck,” you sob. Your throat, your pussy, all of it— it’s all compacted. It feels so fucking tight, both words and air fighting to get out and in all at once—everything inside you constricting.

“Show me,” he grits through clenched teeth. “Show me how much you missed me.” He drags his gloved digit over your clit, pressing down onto it until you see stars, fizzing in front of your vision. “I know you can take it, sweet girl. Be good and show me.”

Be good. Be good for him. Be his only vice.

He continues to swirl at your bundle of nerves and you’re nearly thrashing with it— with all of this— hair fanned and mussed against the pillow as you writhe, swallowing his saber to the hilt. Fuck, you’re so full. Maker, you’re stuffed with it; with the cold, uneven edges, the ridges woven into the grip of it— and he slowly - tortuously - delves the handle in and out of you, hitting against your cervix with every thrust.

You can only mumble. Your lips have gone slack, your mind is cavernous. All you can do is quiver and beg— beg for release. Beg for it to end.

Beg for more.

“Oh gods, oh g- Maker, please—”

Your bleary eyes shoot open as you’re silenced by the grip of his gloved hand.

“No.” Din pinches your jaw in the web of his palm, fingertips dimpling your cheeks. “No, your God isn’t here,” he seethes, low and deadly, graphite venom dripping from his lips. “Pray to me.”

Fuck.

Trembling, your lips pucker ugly and sloppy as you babble uselessly in his stony grasp, chin crinkling with a whimper. “D-Din.”

He inhales sharply, mouth snaking into a wicked grin behind his helm. “That’s it. That’s my good girl.”

He’s deboning you as he would a fish. Practiced, he plucks you into messy pieces—gutting you through your open maw. His ministrations are crawled. They’re slothed and carnal with arrogance and pride and it’s not enough—its all together too much, but still—it’s not enough. You’re hungry. You paw at him, scraping over his breastplate.

“Din, please—more," you gasp feverishly, eyes blown wide.

A blip of static huffs through his modulator. “You want more, you filthy little thing?” He gives you another squeeze, indenting scorch marks into your face.

You nod—you try to, his grasp is too firm, rooting your neck to still. “Yes.”

Din groans, all but obliging you as he begins to fuck you harder, pistoning through you as he thumbs your nub with his rough pad.

“Din-”

You’re whining now, tinny and depraved. It’s wrong. Every part, every second of this, is wrong. Immoral. But you can’t stop the way your body convulses at his every touch—you can’t stop the heat roiling in your core.

“Din, Din baby- fuck fuck fuck-”

It’s like he’s trying to split you in two—all of you. Your pussy, your mind, your soul—he’s bisecting you. Divvying you up to bits of nothing. It’s only then that horrid realization occurs to you, winding through your addled haze as he fucks you deep and splintering: you’ll never be whole again.

And scarier still—you don’t think you want to be.

No, you want to be these loathsome shards. You want to be broken glass. You want to draw blood.

You want to be possessed by him.

“Fuck yourself,” he pants, his cock straining violently against his trousers, begging for relief. “Be good and fuck yourself. Let me watch.”

Be good be good be good

He leaves your clit and you whimper at the loss. Your face is stained with tears. The salty trails cascade down to mingle into your hair, into the sheets. You’re vibrating, but you do as he says and you reach down, recoiling when you touch the chilled metal tip. Tentatively, you pad along it, settling on the end that’s peeking out from you.

A pained sound rumbles through Din as you wrap your fist around the saber, and your eyes flit up to meet his, hidden somewhere behind his helm. Hurriedly he unbuttons his pants in a flourish and removes himself from his constraints. He’s pulsing and proud, flexing up against his stomach, the veins choked to bulge along the angry, silken shaft of him.

Finally, you begin to move the hilt—finding an aching, undulating rhythm and he can’t fucking take it. He rips his helmet off, letting it clatter to the floor.

“Din,” your pray, “Din, I think I’m going to-”

You’re wrecked – fried like a livewire– as you look for him, as you search and search—for that warmth, for a trace of him left there. The Din you knew, the Din you agreed to fly with all those months ago, the Din you love. You think you see it sometimes—in the slant of his mouth, the bridge of his nose— but here, now, he is gone.

He is a pit.

Din Djarin is a pit of a man, and you want nothing more than to fall. Standing on the ledge of him, staring down into the abyss—you want this. You want to fall. You want to jump.

“Tell me you’re mine. Tell me, sweet girl— tell me.” He’s fucking his fist raw, humping into his palm as desperate as an animal.

“I’m yours,” you mewl. Furiously rubbing your clit with one hand and spearing yourself on the rod of his saber with the other, your hips buck and spasm. You snap. A blinding light sears through you, ricocheting off every scrap of muscle and tendon sewed up in your body. “Just for you,” you cry, “I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours—”

Your ragged sobs mix with the lewd slaps of skin as Din pumps himself, hot ropes of his release spitting onto you— painting your pussy, the divot of your navel, coating along the slope of your tummy.

“Look at you—fucking, look at you,” he moans throatily, easing through his rough strokes as he softens.

Your chest is heaving and you feel dumb, empty—like a puppet, arms and legs moving on phantom strings. Din removes the handle from you with a wet squelch; a viscous strand of your juices clings on, obscenely connecting your pussy to the base of it, and you rasp—the wind punched out of you with its gaping absence. You gush. It dribbles out the slit of you, leaking past your abused hole and soaking into the bedroll.

When he unsheathed the saber from your scabbard, he took a part of you with it. You’re so fucked out—you’re practically a parsec away— it went unnoticed.

Undetected.

It brushed past you. You didn’t feel it—you didn’t recognize the whisper that has slithered in in it’s place, nestling within your swollen folds.

Breeding there.

“Beautiful,” Din murmurs, placing it on the mattress beside your head, the chrome of it gleaming with your slick. He bows his head to lick a path up your cunt, laving you clean as he climbs higher and higher, tonguing off his seed from your stippled skin. “Fucking beautiful, mesh’la,” he growls. “Mine—all fucking mine.”

You’ve gone heavy. You’re too heavy to keep your eyes open—you’ve been hollowed out and you’ve got nothing keeping you tethered here. You start slipping under in slow motion—intervals between languid blinks lasting longer and longer. You’re spooled in a knot of tangled limbs with Din’s mouth, fervent and needy, flaying you open as he sees fit— with his hot mouth and teeth, suckling your breasts, biting at your nipples and bruising your pretty neck.

It’s not long before you hear it again, as you have before— as you always do: the faint caressing of speech, of lips forming language you cannot understand—made indecipherable in your strung out high.

“D’you say something?” you mumble, half conscious—half dreaming.

Din laps a long stripe up your throat, his stubble sanding your skin. “No.”

You sigh, breathy and girlish, as his fingers find your mound, dipping into you once again. He makes you cum twice more that evening. You barely have the strength to watch him do it.

/

Finally, when he’s satisfied—when he’s spent with driving you mad, making you rile— he grants you respite. He permits it – generous, charitable - and you sleep like the dead, soundly through the night until—

until you don’t.

Eyes. You feel them somewhere— there are eyes on you. You stir, stuttering in your sleep to squirm in the dark. You don’t know what you’re listening to at first. It’s a sound of some kind, a noise. There is a hiss—

A frigid hand seizes around the bloody organ pulsing in your ribcage.

No, not a hiss—it’s a voice. It’s— no-

You pat around for Din beside you but he’s gone—he’s long gone and his vacant spot has grown cold without him—and your nails dig into the sheets, desperately clawing into the fabric.

Inside you.

The voice, the sharp hush of it—it’s inside you. It speaks from inside your own mind, its forked tongue fluttering against your ear.

‘Wake up, sweet girl.’

/

Tags (IM SO SORRY): @djarinsbeskar @pedros-mustache @krissology @keeper0fthestars @read-and-rec