#OVER HOW THIS ONE CAN WRITE SO MUCH HOLY HECK

[lunaetis]

my friend while we're writing on discord : should i get nitro ? i hate discord characters limit ! me looking at her last reply that she had to cut into god knows how many parts :

me : yeah .. i don't think even nitro can handle you.

[artist-issues]

I Saw Wish

And it was the worst animated Disney movie I’ve ever seen. I have to watch it again before I can get into the nitty gritty details. But I don’t need details to sum it up, because my dad actually said it perfectly as we left the theater:

“It was like someone who didn’t really understand Disney movies tried to make a Disney movie.”

Both the form (the technical arts of filmmaking) and the content (the morals, values, and themes of the movie) were totally horrible.

I don’t know who’s fault it was. Jeremy Spears was in the storyboard room and Mark Henn and Eric Goldberg did some 2D animation. But they must have gotten outvoted, or they must not care anymore.

Because holy cow. Here’s some stuff that’s just off the top of my head.

SPOILERS. Not that it matters, because nothing interesting happens in this movie.

The writing? Terrible. Ninety percent of it feels like the characters are filling time with quirky one-liners that are trying too hard to be appealing, then failing, then taking you out of the movie. The jokes aren’t funny. The characters just respond to each other in conversation to check a one-liner box. The other twenty percent is whole conversations repeating tell-don’t-show exposition that has already been covered, usually twice, in previous scenes. Like if in Tangled, every scene had included some variation of Rapunzel saying to friends and enemies alike, “I have to see the floating lights so I’m sneaking to the castle with this thief who wants a mysterious tiara I hid from him. Don’t tell my mother, she’s a bit overprotective!” Over. And over. And over.

The character motivations are way too broad. Asha? Her dream is just “that everybody around me gets to be happy.” That’s it, in a nutshell. No deeper exploration of that. Nobody asks, “why do you care so much?” Nobody tries to convince her she should look out for herself, and then she proves she was right all along. The King? We are told (not shown) that he doesn’t want anyone else’s dreams to be “destroyed.” But he in no believable way expresses that that motivation is still what’s driving him during the movie—what’s driving him is just a plain old lust for power, no nuance.

By the way, the whole premise of the movie? Undercooked. Half-baked concepts strung together with no definitive meaning. Therefore, it’s not believable. Example: The characters act like the wishes are beautiful—well, actually, no, this movie doesn’t know how to show, so there’s not a lot of meaningful acting—the characters just tell us that wishes are “the most beautiful part of someone,” and that’s why it’s worth going through this adventure to give their wishes back to them. But there’s no proof of that in the movie. In fact, it directly kicks it’s own legs out from under that idea, because it has every character who gives up their wish forget that part of themselves. Asha’s grandfather has forgotten his wish, but that doesn’t make him any less “beautiful.” She, and everyone, still treats him like he’s this wonderful old man who deserves the world, who everyone loves…but why is he so appealing? If he “gave up the most beautiful part of him?” The only character who is changed by their lack-of-wish is the Sleepy-analogue character…who is just sleepy, which is described as “boring.” But nobody else who’s given up their wish in the whole kingdom acts like that. It’s just him. Also, the King acts like it’s so important to protect the wishes from destruction. But what does destroying a wish look like? That actually happens to Asha’s mom. Her wish-bubble is broken, literally, and she just says she feels grief. But like. Why? She never remembered it in the first place; it had been missing from her life for years. Also, what the heck is a wish?! It seems to range from broad concepts like “inspire people” to “fly.” Just “fly,” like a bird. The desire to levitate off the ground is the most important, beautiful essence of one background character. Like, what?! But no character ever has the why behind their wish to make us care.

I could go on and on about that point. Like, think about Disney movies that wrote the book on how to make movies about characters with wishes. If Ariel were in Wish, her bubble would look like “dancing and learning and exploring on the Surface with someone who understands her.” But we believe that that is her real, genuine wish, and that it matters to her, because we are shown why being understood is so important to her. Because it’s missing from her life. There’s a scene where she explores a boat alone, and even her best friend doesn’t get excited about it with her. Her dad won’t listen to her point of view. Her siblings don’t ask her about her life even when they think she’s in love. She wants what she wants because of pieces of her life that we are shown.

We are never shown why Asha’s grandfather is obsessed with inspiring people, so we have no reason to believe it, or care whether he gets it or not. We can’t feel disappointed when his wish is said to “never come true,” like we did when Quasimodo was abused by the people he wished to join. We can’t feel elated when he finally “gets” his wish, like we did when Simba smiles on Pride Rock remembering the same way he used to as a cub and claims the crown with a roar. We don’t have anything to hang on to, nothing to relate to, nothing to grasp and feel with the characters. So we don’t feel, because they didn’t put the work in to help us feel. They just say, “the mom’s feeling grief. Feel grief.” And expect us to do the work ourselves. I have to stop harping on this point and move on.

But The main point of the movie is very broad because of that lazy premise, and it’s barely reinforced by any kind of appealing storytelling. If I had to guess, the point would be “Keep wishing for more even when it’s hard.” But the story they told to communicate that meaning was so unimpactful. Asha doesn’t have a dream of her own that’s such hard work to accomplish! (Neither does her grandfather; his wish is “to inspire people.” And at the end, we’re supposed to see him strumming a guitar and believe it’s inspiring? We were never shown how he worked hard to learn how to play the instrument. Or that he carved it with his own hands, or anything like that. So there’s no meaningful demonstration of working hard for it or achieving your wish even if it’s far out of reach.) And nobody except the king is trying to take wishes away from anyone, and he just does it literally, after they voluntarily give them to him, so there’s not even any impactful demonstration of “don’t let anyone tell you your wishes are dumb or unachievable, or stop you from reaching them.” Even when he takes them away, it’s just because they…could, someday, be used to threaten his kingdom in a vague, really unlikely way. There are so many things you could do with “keep wishing for more even when it’s hard.” For instance; you could say the main character has always been afraid to dream (wish for more), because maybe when she was a kid something wonderful almost happened but ended in tragedy, so she keeps her head down and doesn’t want much because if you don’t dream you’ll never be disappointed. She takes no risks, and has to learn that sometimes trying and failing is worth more than slogging through life all self-protective. I mean, the pieces were right there. She has this line about her dad, and how she wished he would get better but then he died. She has lines about how nobody should have to live with grief?? Then that’s never addressed again! It’s just a throwaway emotion-moment with no buildup or follow-through to tie it to and support that main theme.

The compositions of too many shots were so terrible. Characters got cut off in weird places. One shot has Asha dead center, with her grandfather on the left side of the table and her mother on the right, having a family dinner with a super exposition-heavy conversation that is meant to be emotionally charged. But despite everything else being perfectly centered, half of her mother’s body is chopped off. The movie’s shot like someone’s mom who doesn’t understand technology tried to take a video with her phone.

The charm of the art “style” wears off basically immediately. I know what they were going for. I see the sketch lines and watercolor textures. This is maybe the first time Disney ever failed to accomplish a visual “look” that turned out good. Everything looks dull. Muted. De-saturated. Slightly out of focus, but not in a cool Spider-Verse way. The sets or backgrounds are lazy; at no point does the scenery look complete; big, empty, boring spaces that do not create any kind of “stage” for impactful moments. The rendering looks unfinished. When Asha’s hair moves during her belting of the “I Make This Wish” song, it’s bad. It’s unnatural. It flops in a way that doesn’t make sense for the weight of her hair. The most impactful visual moments come from the villain, and they’re moments when he looks way too unhinged for the kind of line he’s saying.

There is no interesting character development. Asha goes from believing everyone is basically good and their wishes deserve the chance to come true , to….that, again. That would be fine, she could be a static character, if she proved contrast-characters wrong, in a believable way. But she never does. Because no other characters argue with her except the King. And it goes no deeper than “everyone’s wishes are basically good and they deserve the chance to make them true” vs. “nuh-uh, because I get to decide what makes them deserving.” The King doesn’t have any kind of interesting development, either. They don’t expand on his tragic backstory—it consists of one drawing of him near a broken boat, and a few images of the corner burned off of his family taoestry. They never say “King Magnifico wished for _____ and it was taken away!” They literally never tell you what his wish or dreams were, or what motivated him to create the whole kingdom that the movie’s premise sits on. So there’s no convincing sense of progression, how he got this way, why he’ll keep going “so far.”

The pacing is weird. It undercuts every moment that could have any kind of emotion behind it. One minute Valentino is suavely bouncing around, then he’s given a two-second beat to blubber with badly-animated tears that he’ll miss Star—then he instantly gets to have another funny one-liner so we forget he might’ve been sad a second ago. We’re clearly supposed to believe that the King and his wife are devoted to each other, and his turning evil was such a big betrayal, but there’s no time and no impactful evidence for us to believe either of those things. And even if we did, the moment he’s defeated and trapped in a mirror, and begs to be let free, the Queen kind of shrugs it off, makes a forgettable one-liner, and tells them to throw him in the dungeon. And he doesn’t look remorseful. And we don’t even get to assume he’s embarrassed or emotionally devastated that he’s come to this—because the last thing he says is “nooo, the dungeon is so smellyyy!” Like this is a half-baked LEGO short that can’t get emotionally deeper than what an actual 3 year-old’s parents might be okay with.

And that’s the worst offense: The movie is not genuine. It works hard for nothing, and it has no vulnerability. It just uses old Disney standbys to pretend to be vulnerable. Have the music swell and the characters gasp and the songs drip emotion when characters are meant to be saying or doing something emotional.

But truthfully, think of all the Disney movies you’ve ever seen with the hardest emotional moments. The sheer joy of Genie when he realizes he’s free. The anguish when Elsa thinks Anna’s been frozen forever, or when Anna thinks she’s dead. The trauma when Simba loses Mufasa. The longing and dreaming of Ariel when she reaches up out of her grotto. The sense of foreboding when Mother Gothel says “fine, now I’m the bad guy” or the heartbreak in Rapunzel’s eyes when she thinks Flynn has abandoned her, or the shame on Aladdin’s face when Jafar reveals he’s a street-rat, or the horror of cruelty when the stepsisters rip up Cinderella’s dress, or Kala’s tears when Tarzan leaves her in the treehouse, or Sarabi’s tears when Simba comes back, or Mulan’s father tossing aside the sword and token of the Emperor to embrace Mulan, or heck, even just Lilo pushing Stitch in the woods and telling him “get out of here.” This movie has no moments like that. It has moments you can tell that the filmmakers wanted to hit like that—but they don’t.

Because no work is put into building them up. You know how much Simba loves Mufasa, because you’ve been watching their chemistry more than any other character all the way up till he dies. You know how much Mulan wants to please her family because she spends all of Act I desperately attempting to do that. You know Quasimodo believes the world below is beautiful and wants them to accept him because he has interesting things like—talking to gargoyles, convincing us that he’s lonely; building a scale model of the townspeople, convincing us that he sees them in a beautiful way and wishes he were beautiful in more ways than one like them, too.

Right down to the facial expressions, none of them are as anguished, happy, sad, excited, silly, in any convincing way like all of Disney’s other movies. Asha’s “low moment” when she’s afraid her “wish” hurt everyone else (still vague on what that wish ever was) lasts two seconds, she’s not crying, she’s barely sitting with slumped shoulders, and her family barely spend two seconds comforting her. They basically just say, “aw, no, it’s not y fault, it’s the king’s.” And she’s like, “yeah okay” and that’s that. It’s like the animators we’re afraid to animate really intimate emotions on the characters’ faces. The voice actors, too.

And the whole movie is peppered with Easter eggs to past Disney movies. But all that does, if you really know Disney beyond the visuals, is make you think of how hollow this movie is in comparison. How much you wish you were watching Cinderella or The Little Mermaid or something with depth and vulnerability instead of Wish.

[little-emerald-snake]

Any chance we can pretty please get a spice level 1000 smut with ominis and mc?

You write so well and atm all im seeing on tumblr is seb.

Im an omi girl and im starving lol

If your current circumstances permit, could you delve into your deepest darkest smut mind and give us a golden heap of descriptive and intricate filth? Haha xxx

We all love you.

I squeal whenever you post. Xxxxx

Hope youre doing well

Did you just come from the Undercroft!? - Ominis Gaunt X F!MC

🔥 NSFW 🔞 MDNI

Ohhh boy this one is wayyyy better than my last Doninis request so I apologize. But holy heck…this came from the dark fucked up recesses of my brain so enjoy that 🤣 Thanks for reading love, I’m doing much better after cutting back how much I’ve been writing, I feel rejuvenated and have much better inspiration (ignore the fact I’m posting twice a week again 🙄) 🫶🏻

Warnings: reliving the trauma of Ominis yelling at you for coming out of the Undercroft, Dominis, degradation, name calling (seriously I did not hold back), spitting, spit swallowing, clit/pussy spanking, rough fingering, squirting, spanking thighs and ass, unprotected rough sex, marking, threats of impregnation, threats of defamation, gaslighting, so much use of the word slut, overstimulation, crying during sex, degradation, oral m receiving, cum swallowing, no aftercare (hang in there loves, it’s a tough one)

2.4k words

She carefully stepped out from the undercroft, glancing around to see the coast was clear before stepping out. Much to her surprise the familiar blonde Slytherin stood there almost as if he was headed there himself. “Hello Sebastian. Wait.”

Her heart began to race in her chest and she momentarily debated making a run for it or staying absolutely silent and pretending she wasn’t there at all. “You there. I can hear you.”

Well there went that plan. The blind Slytherin wasn’t to be trifled with. That much she knew. No sense in hiding if he already knew that she was in fact there and it wasn’t in fact his best friend. “Oh, hello Ominis, isn’t it? I believe we have a few classes together, right?”

The blonde's brows rose and he looked momentarily puzzled before standing a bit straighter. “I recognize that voice. Heard you talking to Garreth Weasley in Potions class. You’re the new fifth-year.”

She was about to cheerily agree but a scowl met his features and her stomach sunk. He looked absolutely furious. “Did you just come from the Undercroft? How did you get in there?”

She swallowed nervously, deciding in that moment that she wouldn’t rat out Sebastian after he’d taken the fall for her in the library. “Oh? That room’s called ‘the Undercroft?�� Ah. Well, I was exploring and suddenly found myself in a strange passageway-“

He frowned deeply, interrupting her with a cutting tone. “Don’t lie to me. No one ‘stumbles’ upon that room. Sebastian told you, didn’t he?”

He suddenly shifted closer to her, nearly pinning her against the clock decorated door to the Undercroft and she swallowed again. “I can’t risk you telling anyone about this place, you know. Sebastian’s going to get an earful about this. He gets into enough trouble as it is and doesn’t need your help in doing so. Come with me.”

He stepped away from her, bringing his wand up to guide him before grabbing her arm and yanking her away from the opening. He carefully opened the passageway to the Undercroft and shoved her inside, stepping in after her and gripping her arm again.

She stumbled as he easily guided her to the couch and tossed her down roughly. She debated getting up and making a run for it but he stood right in front of her, blocking her exit unless she jumped over the back of the sofa. “I’m going to punish you for lying on behalf of Sebastian. I bet he only showed you this place so he wouldn’t be interrupted while taking your sweet pussy. He should know better. This is my hideout. He shouldn’t be bringing his mischievous romps down here anyway.”

She stuttered over her words, anxious as Ominis’ body language changed and his words lost their proper tone and changed to a different, more demanding tone. “I-I…we weren’t doing anything like that. H-he simply was showing me a place to work on my magic since I’m behind. I-I swore I wouldn’t tell anyone about it and I meant that. I-I’d never-“

He tsked her, placing a finger under her chin and tipping her head up to look at him. “You’re loyal to Sebastian. Not me. Therefore I can’t trust you. As for Sebastian, he’s showing you the Dark Arts isn't he? You’re learning the curses with him aren’t you? You will not sully my Undercroft with Dark Magic or your vile sexual acts.”

She pressed herself against the back of the couch, heartbeat thundering behind her ribs all the way down between her legs. She couldn’t explain why his anger was working her up but it was.

He chuckled, wand blinking in his hand. “My my, your heart sure is beating away. Partially because you're scared but there’s something more isn’t there? What? Sebastian teaching you the Dark Arts is riling you up is it? Are you greedy for power? You do realize I’m a Gaunt, right? Sallow is a pureblood wizard but I’m a direct pureblooded descendant of Salazar himself. My blood runs thicker with tragedy than any other wizarding family known to the wizarding world.”

Her mouth went dry. That wasn’t what she was about at all. It had nothing to do with power or learning the Dark Arts which she actually feared. But the way he was speaking to her, boasting himself up and almost trying to compete with Sebastian for her attention had her going. This was a very different side to Ominis.

He snickered, tucking his wand away and lowering himself to kneel on the couch with his hands on the tips of the cushions behind her and his knee between her legs. Her body went rigid when hot breath ghosted across her neck and a hand caressed her stomach, slowly adding pressure and moving downwards. “That’s right. I know you’re a pureblood. I could easily fill you with a Gaunt heir and you would very quickly become an important witch. Your name would be in everyone’s mouth.”

His hand now lifted the hem of her skirt and she nearly choked when a devious smirk decorated Ominis’ features. Shame burned through her. “No bloomers on. You filthy slut. Now I’m sure of it. You were down here trying to fuck Sebastian weren’t you. He’s ever the playboy you know. He’ll stick his cock in anything. You aren’t special.”

Her heart raced, squirming as his fingers traced up her inner thigh to find her soaking wet pussy. He groaned, yanking her skirt up and moving her knees apart a bit to spit directly onto her sex. The action caught her off guard but he flattened his palm, rubbing her pussy with his flattened fingers by starting slow and getting rougher.

She held back whimpers and moans but this only made him angrier. She gasped as his free hand moved off the cushions and squeezed her cheeks. The action forced her lips to open and that was when he spit inside her mouth, fingers still roughly rubbing against her sensitive sex.

She hesitated, freezing with his spit in her mouth now and unsure what to do. He chuckled darkly, seeming to sense her dilemma. “Swallow it. Filthy slut. You better consider this an honor.”

She swallowed. It felt wrong but that didn’t stop her body from responding with hot electric tingles spreading down her body. He chuckled, finding her clit with the ball of his palm and rubbing aggressively. The sensation it caused danced on the line of torture and pleasure. The pressure was too much but that didn’t stop her hips from canting upwards.

This was all too much. She was careening toward an orgasm, hips bucking and moving to try and wring pleasure from the overstimulating torture. In a moment of relief he pulled his hand away, spitting down on her pussy again, releasing her jaw and caging her in with his arm. She thought the torturous pleasure would be done but that’s when his palm reunited with her sex in a loud slap.

The sound got her more than anything but the intense heat that burned from the sensation of the spank caused her to whine. He only grinned spanking a few more times in quick succession.

She reached down to grip his wrist and pull him away but he only chuckled, overpowering her with strength and shoving two fingers inside. She lost her battle, still holding his wrist but no longer pushing him away as he began a brutal pace, finger fucking her rather agressively. “This is how you learn, useless slut.”

It was intense but she couldn’t deny it had her hips lifting in pleasure again. Especially when those long slender fingers curled, hammering directly against her g spot and dragging her closer to the edge her body was teetering on. “Ah! Oh Ominis! I-I’m gonna-!”

He kept up the brutal pace, laughing at her pitiful behavior below him as he kneeled over her and drove her to the brink. She gave a sharp cry, body arching upwards as a pressure she’d never felt before took over. “You’re not supposed to like this, greedy little slut.”

When the pressure faded and the high of her orgasm faded she floated back to reality, ears still lightly ringing. She could hear Ominis’ condescending tone trying to break through.

After a moment she finally registered when he was saying. “How dare you make a mess of the furniture in my Undercroft. Look at this fucking mess. Are you listening to me!? Your pleasure should be irrelevant to me.”

She opened her eyes, glancing down between her legs where Ominis had pulled his now dripping fingers away to motion at the damp cushions below her. Luckily for him, he’d managed to dive away before getting splashed with her mess as his clothes were dry. His hand and the furniture below her had no such luck.

She had hot tears welling in her eyes. She’d never squirted before and now from something so rough. How could this have happened? She didn’t have long to process before Ominis’ hand landed on her parted thigh with a slap that echoed through the stone walls of the room.

She gasped, the heat that blossomed to the top of her skin, making it red and sensitive, surprising her. He spanked her again just a bit higher and she snapped her legs shut, causing him to laugh. “What? Can’t take a punishment properly? You shouldn’t have lied to me then, you stupid girl.”

She whimpered and he took her hand, helping her up. She sighed a breath of relief. It was short lived though as he flipped her over and positioned her on her hands and knees in front of him, yanking her skirt up to leave her bare before him.

His palm came down hard on the round cheek of her ass, causing her to gasp and lurch forward in surprise. “That’s for making a such a fucking mess.”

She peered over her shoulder, swallowing harshly as she heard the zipper of his trousers and felt the blunt tip of him against her entrance. She didn’t have time to deny him as he shoved into her, slamming his hips forward and burying himself inside her wet warmth.

She gasped, biting into her lip at the slight sting of such a quick intrusion. He filled her so completely full she’d never felt anything like it. She gasped when he moved, dragging himself back out and grunting as he stuffed himself right back in.

He held her hips in a firm grasp, fucking into her agressively. With every slam of his hips it became just a bit clearer that this fucking was meant as a punishment. Yes it felt incredible but his pace was brutal, rough and quick and meant to get a point across.

Just as she was beginning to fall into pleasure and tighten around him he was pulling out of her and flipping her onto her back. He wasted little time slamming back into her and resuming the animalistic pace of fucking her.

He leant down over her, baring his teeth against her neck and scraping against her delicate skin. He fucked her faster, biting and suckling bruises into her soft skin.

The pleasure was driving her closer and closer to the edge but she knew people would surely question her about the hickeys he was leaving. She attempted to shove him off, causing a snarl to rise from his throat and he released her abused flesh and growled against her ear. “If you tell anyone it was me who marked you, I’ll deny it. I’ll tell everyone you’re a filthy little liar and that you are nowhere near my league. I’ll publically humiliate you. Is that what you want?”

She pitifully shook her head and tears bubbled up to the surface. She was moaning and crying, pain, pleasure and emotional whiplash being the cause. But her body shook and she experienced a soul shredding orgasm. Fat hot tears rolled down her cheeks as she rippled around him, whimpering and crying out as she came.

He growled in frustration, pulling out of her and falling back against the couch, pulling her with and seating her in his lap. “How dare you cum on my cock without my permission. You’re going to fucking earn it this time, you hear that slut? Ride me to get your pleasure since you’re such a greedy cock slut.”

She was so lost in the pleasure and the chaos that she did, placed her hands on his shoulders and rolled her hips on his, riding him and whimpering. “That’s right. Take my cock. Forget all about dallying with Sebastian. Enabling him like a naughty little bitch behind my back. Stupid girl, playing with the Dark Arts.”

She cried, overwhelmed from how good it felt to fuck him and how hot it was to be degraded by him but his words did cut deep. She hadn’t slept with Sebastian at all but the idea that Ominis wanted to fuck Sebastian out of her system lit a fire inside of her. He laughed heartily at her tears. “Are you overwhelmed silly slut? Can’t take being told what a useless and dumb little hole you are? Thats alright. I’m done with your pussy. Get on the floor where sluts belong. This filthy pussy isn’t good enough to be bred by a Gaunt. Your mouth will have to do.”

He practically shoved her off, more or less tossing her to the floor before sliding forward on the seat and gripping a fistful of her hair and using her mouth. She watched through watery eyes as he fucked her mouth, pumping her mouth full of thick, hot, salty cum.

She immediately wanted to spit it out but he pinched her nose and pulled his cock out, forcing her head back and brushing down the front of her throat till she swallowed his essence. He laughed meanly, tapping her cheek. “That’s right. You’re a good slut. Even if you are an absolute shit liar.”

He stood up, straightening himself out and putting himself back together before pulling his wand from his robe pocket and sauntering towards the door. “No more encouraging Sebastian to get into trouble? You hear me? If he comes up with some ‘brilliant plan’ you bring it to me immediately. Now, go clean up and go to bed…although, I must admit you are prettier when you’re overstimulated. And remember what I said. You tell anyone anything about this and I’ll have this entire school pitted against you. I’m not afraid to exploit my father being friends with Headmaster Black if I need to.”

Without another word he left her, tears streaming, throat raw, and pussy aching from the roughness.

[moooncats]

✿ Pick A Card ✿

✿ What Does Your Inner Child Think Of You? ✿

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✿ Pile 1 : Imagination , Chakra Clearing. ✿

Wow! This Pile so far is one of my favorites right off the back. Like seriously I RARELY ever pull out this elusive card and right off the bat.... blam! Haha what incredible energy we have here. So I'm hearing that your inner child is so stinking happy of the person that you've become. They love how you revel in the wondrous, mysterious, most beauteous power of your imagination, and let it whisk you away on a right-brained roomp through all things nonsensical, Suess plays Wonka style. To them, you're an off road adventurer, playing in the upside- down, glow-in-the-dark woods of posibility. There is no "no" here. Only "whoa!". And "flow". And "Holy moly, here we go!". (Hmmm maybe there was something in your brownies? c; ). Your inner child feels heard from you and is attentively hanging out with you feeling affirmed by every journey you set out to. I'm hearing "Your the best friend I could ever ask for." Omg pile 1 this is so effing sweet like seriously, they think you're such a cool, magical person. They wouldn't have it any other way! (:

✿ Advice From Your Inner Child ✿

Chakra Cleansing: Archangel Metatron: "Call upon me to clear and open your chakra's, using sacred geometric shapes. Your inner child want's to make sure that you are taking care of yourself and not over extending your energy ♡. Please make sure to cleanse your aura every once in a while. You can take a bath with essential oils, sage/paulo santo's your body and area, or do a salt water cleanse in a lake or beach. The water can be very cleansing and healing. As a native from Hawaii the beach would be my go to cleanse preference. (✿◠‿◠) 🌊

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✿ Pile 2 : Open Heartedness , Prioritize ✿

Wow pile 2 lemme give you a hug okay? 🫂 Seriously, you have been through some stuff. I'm picking up on heavy energy here. Your inner child is amazed at how unjaded you are. They have seen you go through some people who were absolute bummers. Did that experience make you salty in any way? Heck no. They see you as a strong warriror who always chooses to not let unhappy chapters make you into a monster. They appreciate that so much. If you let negative experiences turn you sour, then the jerks and bully's win. So you move on with an open and hopeful heart, if only because you hate losing to jerks. Pile 2 you are winners. 🏆💗 You kill people with kindness and don't let their bad energies mix in with your pure and thoughtful heart. Your inner child is so sweet, they tell me that they give you hugs and love that you are the person they have become. I'm hearing "We are misunderstood and not everyone will get us, but our hearts are always pure".

✿ Advice From Your Inner Child ✿

Prioritize: Archangel Metatron : "Focus on your highest priorities. I will help you get orginized and motivated". Pile 2, your inner child is amazed at how many ideas that you get from time to time. However, they want you to manifest your thoughts from the 4D and materialize them into the 3D. Proper planning and prioritzing will help you with that. Take out a sheet of paper, and start writing your goals, plans, anything that has to do with your future. They want to make sure that you at least have them written, so you can start "scripting" your dream life. If you don't know what scripting is, it's a form of manifestation that helps you with your ideal dream life. Try it out, it's free and does wonders. Your inner child wants to help you realize your power. I'm hearing your quite popular in the dream realm, you may have astral traveled before or have been looking into it. This is your sign to continue on that path. Congratulations pile 2! This is so far the longest pile that I've done so far. So many messages! ʕ￫ᴥ￩ʔ ♡

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✿ Pile 3 : Honouring Ideas , Clear Intentions ✿

Interesting indeed. This pile I'm hearing unlike pile 2, you are the type to go for your goals. Your Inner child is quite impressed with you! They love how many silly, serious, & whack a doodle ideas you come up with! Lmao, I'm hearing a specific scenario for every event in your life. What an amazing brain you have. This is my pile who always has their head stuck in a book, ears listening to a podcast, and an head full of wonder and ideas. When an idea comes to you, you honor it by doing your best to bringing it into being. You are a master manifestor. Ideas to you, are like children, and you proudly nuture them, knowing they'll grow and develop, and eventually make their way out into the world without ever really acknowledging how much time/money/love you shelled out for them. This is my piles who may be entrepreneurs. Seriously keep that ish up, you are definitely trend setters! Your inner child loves how smart and buisness minded you are. They are definitely proud of the person that you are and have become. (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ♡

✿ Advice From Your Inner Child ✿

Crystal Clear Intentions: Archangel Michael : "Be clear about what you desire, and focus on in with unwavering faith". Pile 3, I'm hearing that any idea you have will be brought into fruition. How lucky! The gods are definitely in your favor when in comes to Manifesting. Please do not stop dreaming, all your dreams will surely come true with the right intentions. 🌌☁️✨️

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[loftec]

Shameless DVD Commentary: None the wiser

I was tagged by a lovely anon over at @shamelessdvdcommentary to do this, thank you! Here we gooo

Which fanfic is your DVD commentary about?

The people (11 out of 20) have spoken! None the wiser

Give us some stats - (when you wrote it, word count, how long it took to finish, is it a one-shot/multi-chapter, etc)

First published: 2015-09-23 (coming up on 9 years what is time??)

Last updated: 2021-12-11 (holy heck that's... shit! I'm sorry!)

Words: 218,480 and counting

Chapters: 53/68

What was the initial inspiration for your story?

A little bit of everything, mostly I'd been reading a lot of Shameless fic at the time and really wanted to write something that was both a really quite basic diner/coffee shop AU, but The Most version of it. The slowest burn, the most diner AU. I had no ambition for people to like it but I wanted it to be Known. If anyone ever asked for a diner fic, they'd HAVE to say, well, NTW is The Most diner fic we've got. If someone asked for slow burn, people would sigh and say, WELL, this one over here is the worst, but it is very slow. And also I was inspired by Before Sunrise / Before Sunset, and working in the music industry.

If the story is written from a character’s POV, why did you choose this character?

I chose Mickey specifically because of the Concept, that Ian decides when the chapters start and end (with some exceptions) by going to the diner, but we're limited to Mickey's POV. Generally I think Mickey is easier for me to write, too, he's got a really strong voice and I like looking at the world (and Ian) through his eyes.

What was your favourite scene to write?

The whole banter/walk scene in chapter 44 when they leave the venue:

“Sure you and your lips can do whatever you set your heart to,” he says, “I believe in you.” Ian is silent, and when Mickey risks a glance in the direction of him and his non-trumpeting goddamned marvelous lips, Ian is looking at him like he’s some kind of unsolved mystery. ”What?” Mickey asks, frowning at him when Ian smiles. “Just a thought,” he says. ”You’ve been flirting with me since we first met, haven’t you?”

I had that whole back and forth leading up to the first kiss in my head for years before I got to finally got around to write it and I still love it.

How did you come up with the title?

It's from a song, one of the core songs I associate with this fic. My playlist now has 149 tracks on it, but the ones I consider "core songs" are None the wiser, Day After Tomorrow, Let's Dance, How I Made My Millions, Not Dark Yet, and Mosquitoes. I'm not sure I can explain why, but None The Wiser came on randomly when I was doing dishes and thinking about this fic I was writing, and the vibes just lined up in my head. Also I think it fits this version of Mickey I'm writing, who knows so much and has so much experience, but refuses to understand what's happening when Ian walks into his life.

Are there any little moments or references you hope readers will notice?

Oh, wow. Yeah. I always reference silly little things and I just have to hope people understand them, or tolerate them at least. I think one of my favourite bit of foreshadowing is in chapter 39 when people keep staring at Ian because they obviously recognise him, but Mickey thinks staring at Ian is a completely reasonable thing to do and is mostly just annoyed over how blatant they're being.

Was there anything you struggled to write? If so, how did you overcome this?

I am struggling right now lol, I had meticulous notes for what I wanted to happen for every single chapter up until 45, and now half of them say "they text all day" and I'm like THANKS!!! VERY HELPFUL!! Also life and writers block etc etc.

Favourite line in the story?

This is such a hard choice, so I'll just go with this one from chapter 42:

“So,” Ian says, sitting back to sweep his arms out in a wide motion, presenting his solution. “I think we should go out for breakfast sometime.”

Because to me it pinpoints the moment when Ian breaks the format, in a way? They have met outside the diner before, but only on accident, and here Ian realises that it might be a problem that they only ever hang out at Mickey's job. But metatextually, he also highlights the narrative crux they're stuck in. I don't know, is that a boring favourite line? I have many, and I grabbed the first one I saw so I wouldn't get stuck rereading the whole fic lol. Do you have a favourite line?

Did the storyline change in any way as you wrote the story?

So much, it's hard to believe because there isn't too much of a plot, but so much. My planned ending is so far from what it was when I started out, which is maybe one blessing that comes from how long it's taking me to write it, I have time to rethink things. I can't really talk about it now without spoiling the actual ending, but you better believe I will expose myself once we get to it.

If you are writing a particular trope or genre, was it your first time writing this?

I'd written fic for a different fandom ten years earlier, but nothing in this style I don't think, and this was my first time writing since I was 20 and stopped writing jrock rpf. I suppose I'm still writing about music, though!

What are you most proud about in the story? (plot, characterisation, dialogue, twist/cliffhanger, etc)

One of the things I've always wanted to do with writing for Ian and Mickey is to let them have conversations, have things in common, and be friends. Because I think they were in canon, we just never got to see it (in the first 5 seasons, careful what you wish for). Guess I'm saying I'm proud of the bants!

Are there any deleted scenes that didn’t make it to the final story?

I don't think so! I mean, maybe the last 15 chapters? I kid! They will make it!

Are there any ‘behind the scenes’ info you’d like to share - e.g. what’s going on in a characters head in a certain scene or how you came to write a certain line?

There is one line Ian says where, when I wrote it, I was like; this is the first time Ian thinks "I love you" but says something else. Cannot remember what or where right now, and I don't want to try and find it, it's late! Submit your guesses here, I might find it over the weekend if I have some time to look. Also, it's like one of those silly I love yous, one of the early ones, full of potential and feeling but perhaps lacking a bit in substance, but he thought it and I saw him thinking it!

Reading back the story now, is there anything you’d change or add?

Eh *coughs* I might already have, and I apologise. The worst part about writing something this slowly and posting the chapters as I go is that the fic isn't finished and so I feel like it's fine for me to sometimes go back and edit already published chapters. It's not right but I... will still do it. Sorry! A most embarrassing example is when, not too long ago, we discussed the layout of the diner here and I went back to the first chapter to see how I had described it, and it had changed in so many ways over the years? Small round tables?? The tables haven't been round since 2016!! So that's a very clear case of something having become canon for all the hundred little times I've thought of the tables as square while writing vs that one time in chapter one I carelessly said they were round.

Would you ever write a sequel to this story?

Yes! So many! Or maybe not a sequel, that suggests another part of equal size. But little bits of stories, yes!

If you’ve chosen your most popular story, are you surprised by the popularity?

Yes! Like I said, my only aim was to annoy my way to fandom infamy. Turns out it's so much more fun to actually connect with people and write something with someone else in mind, besides myself. I feel so lucky that so many people have connected with NTW over the years <3

Were you nervous or excited to post this story?

Mostly just excited, I think! I still am, whenever I get to post something : )

Did you have a beta or a friend who helped you as you wrote?

No, I probably should have but I have a very hard time showing things to people when they're not finished.

Ask your followers to pick a snippet (no more than 500 words) and share your thoughts about it.

Add snippets in the replies and I'll share thoughts, if you want!

Thanks for reading! <3 <3 <3

[nekrosmos]

*burst into your room through your window* hi- *coughs glass shards out* I am here to say MANY things, positive things about your fic you wrote, but honestly it's more like my live reaction and my fav parts of the fic, it's gonna be long!!!! I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND READING ME YAP!!!

First of all, ∞/10, this is your first fic??? IT'S SO GOOD!! you got the atmosphere the vulnerability the softness the banter AND the good ol smut down, I love it, it was like I was joining them in the fishing trip because of how nice the visual was

ok from here on out it's all about my fav parts of the fic HEHE

the two had aged together is!!!!!!so!!!!!!!!freaking!!!!!!sWEET!!!!!they've been through it all together for the longest time!!!!!!

something about this just makes me change the way Im looking at Price, like..."he just love her" is such a deceivingly simple line but it holds so much weight. He may have "love" him but it was never a full attachment, rather just...embracing the love he was offered. He loved her because he could, not because of...everything el1se that matters. At least that's how I see it and GOD it hurts so good

ah hem AKSJDHAKS how did Nik not choke on air for that- anyways

Im getting my pitchfork for that CO (even tho the bastard is not around anymore) and the way Nik also got him?! *wails*

"there had been a lifetime of missed opportunities between the two" IS SUCH A GOOOOODDD LINEEEE GRRGGR YOUR BRAIN!!

🥺something about them giggling and being themselves just GRIPS MY HEART!!!!

it's the fact that the "friend" turned to "love" that got me feral I was SOOOO KASJHDKADJ hAPPY for em

chef au....

Nik the mAN YOU ARE!!! THE REST I COULD LIVE WITH!!!!GRRR!!! SUCH GOOD LINE!!! HIS NIK!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was walking when I read this part and basically fist the air in victory KASJHDKAJH also I love the train of thought here for Price...it's such a him thing to overthink

there is nothing wrong with that - URGH RIP MY HEART OUT AGAIN!!!!!!!!!

again, another great line, frame this and smack it to my forehead because yes, that is Nik

I really really like in between the spicy scenes there are goofy scenes because...my god it just make everything lighter and more...how to say? real. In the moment and all, yk, it's so nice reading them laughing and stuff. But also this line "their romantic relationship wasn't born today, but weeks ago" again, chef kiss

very long ramble and Im surprised im allowed to type this much into an ask (ah heck it could get cut for all I know but) just know this fic was a lifesaver during my lunch break, had an extremely hard day and this helped a bunch.

Im looking forward to see your future fics if you do write them!!

Okay I'm officially smiling like an idiot and I think I'm gonna have to reread your ask many, many times because HOLY SHIT you just made me so unbelievably happy ​😭​😭​❤️​❤️​❤️​

It was my first fic with them !! I've been writing for a long time, switched to english a few years ago and have been writing casually ever since ,,,, But this was the longest fic I've ever posted and it was a nice challenge honestly !!

Also the way you pointed out some of your favorite scenes jdvlskjd,vpùidjvbpvj I'm losing my mind, I'm so happy ​😭​ I literally couldn't ask for better feedback !!!

I actually really like your interpretation of that line about his ex wife !! I left it pretty open so people can hc whatever they want :3c In my personal hc, he really did love her immensely, but he kept hurting her unintentionally by never being around, never giving her what she needed because of his work, etc. ​Just one of those "it wasn't meant to be" relationships. (Also, other random hc, but Nik was here at Price's wedding, he got along really well with his ex wife, but everything about it broke his fucking heart over and over again. Oops 💔)

And I'm so glad you pointed out the banters during the smut scene !! It's my favorite thing to do honestly !! To me, sex scenes don't have to be so serious all the time, I like when characters communicate while it's happening, I like when they're laughing together <3 And these two have so much shared history that it just makes sense to me !!

God, again, thank you so much for this, you really did just make my day Gomz !!!! You're absolutely lovely !!

[memberment]

good morning everyone!

I have ruined my sleep schedule. Someone save me LMAO

(10:00) as I reach the end of what I've written for morning glory, I grow tired. I need to take a nap. Will I finally finish this Fourth of July chapter today?? Perhaps.

But no one and I mean NO ONE is allowed to let me forget I need to incorporate the mostly bit at some point. Like there are so many canon refs in here it's SCARY. I NEED THE MOSTLY BIT IT IS MY FAVORITE CARTMAN BIT. NO ONE LET ME FORGET!

(6:11) this is my third good morning of the day, second on record good morning, first on record crying over my writing.

LIKE WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN THEY'RE GONNA DIE I'M GONNA THROW UP

(I'm literally not okay I need to stop writing tragic creek)

(7:04) Guys I'm almost done with my morning glory reread and when I tell y'all I just nearly died from shock bc Craig casually mentioned he 'Doesn't believe in coincidences.' Like, it's such a benign statement but after WRITING his storyline in Genesis and randomly seeing something like that in the wild that I totally forgot about almost just took me out.

(10:20) Guys after I reread this Genesis chapter and code it I AM OFFICIALLY WORKING ON MORNING GLORY AGAIN LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOO (This Fourth of July chapter will get finished tn I SWEAR TO HECK!!!!)

(And then I get to read my fav once its like 5am bc I can only read my fav fic at like 5/6 when the sun is just coming up and my room is perfectly cold and I'm almost ready to go to bed but not quite the vibe is JUST RIGHT here's to praying to the gods we don't believe in I get blessed with an early chapter(bc I have literally been trying to space them out and save them and sometimes I do get lucky and get to read two at once and it's literally the best istg))

(11:17) I forgot to reread said chapter and quit at some point but tell me how Morning went from 84.6 (?? ish) to 86.1k?? LIKE HELL YA LETS GOOOOO WE'RE MAKING PROGRESS!!!!

(11:29) It's not, like, haha funny, but I find it so painfully hilarious that I keep going back and forth between writing like fun wholesome dirty mountain kids figuring out life creek and then like them literally DYING for each other with the most gut wrenching dialogue surrounding it all. My brain needs to be studied, I fear.

(3:28) I just spent like the last 30 minutes being a fucking lunatic BACK TO MORNING GLORY!!! We're at 87.1k ... Which like, honestly, for me on hiatus??? I'm kinda impressed. Kinda proud of myself. (Not to mention the other shit I wrote that is not Morning Glory today, because I did write some of the most gut wrenching shit for Revelations just because I felt like writing angst LMAO)

(5:14) I know I've said this before. And I'll probably say it a million times. Jack stands on business and it's so FUCKING FUNNY. Like 'killing him won't solve anything'

'yeah but it'll feel good!'

LIKE OKAY DAMN LMFAOOOO

(6:27) and tonight I shut down with 89.7k

Which like, holy shit, yippie. 4th of July is done, they're doing powerpoint night, and I am just that much closer to being done with summer.

[prolix-yuy]

Hello honey 💕 As promised, here I am submitting my request for the 500 follower celebration!

The list of prompts is amazing. I truly had a hard time choosing one, but after Chapter 2 of Both Side of the Door I need to know what happened between Mando and X'ian or I'll will never be at peace again. So I'll go for Heartbreak of betrayal with the two of them, hoping that you'll give us an insight into their relationship.

Ren's crew sees Mando as a sort of traitor, but I really can't see him act like that (as leaving Quinn behind) out of the blue. So who betrayed who? Who betrayed first? How? Why? And most importantly, what the hell happened on Alzoc III? S1E5 left us with so many questions. I need answers 🤯

Ma Chérie! My wonderful @amban-rifle! I have to start this off with an apology. I have held onto this ask for SO GOSH DARN LONG. This is from my 500 Followers Celebration OVER A YEAR AGO. I'm so sorry have kept you waiting but holy heck, what an ask! The drama! The complications! The holes in canon we all struggle with! Plus addressing one of the most confusing and complicated off-screen "relationships" many of us x Reader writers ignore. I wanted to do it justice, and it took a bunch of research, gorging myself on other Star Wars content, and staring off into space while that Spongebob meme of my brain being on fire danced in my noggin. But! It is here, finally. And for being so patient, it's an absolute monster.

Interlude: Burn in My Bloodstream

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader, Din Djarin x Xi'an

Summary: The Mandalorian has shared many secrets, but his greatest one is buried in shame and blood.

Word Count: 11.8k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, canonical-type violence, allusions to sex work, rough sex throughout, oral sex (m receiving), gagging, voyeurism, fingering (f receiving), PiV sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), anal sex, creampie, choking, degradation, threesomes, semi-public sex, cuckolding, blood and descriptive gore, character death, genocide (what a tag that was to write), suicidal thoughts, a fuckton of angst, The Helmet Stays On and it's a Big Deal, a very toxic relationship dynamic.

Notes: This one was an exercise in researching and complicated storytelling, but now that it's done I am over the moon with how it came out. I know that the Din x Xi'an pairing is not many people's cup of tea, but if you want my take on how it came about and what I think happened to give us The Prisoner, here's it all as best as I can surmise. I'm staying as canon compliant as possible because it's fun to connect a bunch of dots, but obviously this is all speculation with some liberal fudging of timelines.

Takes place after Both Sides of the Door, with much of the story set pre-S1 and spoilers for S1 Ep6 The Prisoner. Our Reader character makes an appearance at the beginning and end, so she'll still have a place in this interlude. The title is taken from Ed Sheeran's "Bloodstream" and if you want to know where my mood was for most of this, that song is a good place to start.

Cross-posted on AO3

I Think of You Series Masterlist

After you retire for the night, Din contemplates telling you about the other woman who left marks on his life. Omera was easy; wrong place, wrong time, and no right time on the horizon. And if he was truthful with himself, maybe no right time ever. He could have loved her, loved the way she cared for him and allowed a softer life for himself. There are times when he lies in bed and wonders what a world like that might look like for him. 

It’s…difficult. 

Even thinking of a little plot of land, a space all his own tied to the earth of a planet, makes him yearn for the skies and space that surround you three on the Crest. He could never truly root in soil, so used to being a seed on the wind. There would always be bounties to chase, duties to fulfill, missions to complete.

Right?

And if he digs even deeper, he might find the clearest truth hidden among the memories.

His heart belonged to you longer than even he knew. 

There were times when he let others touch it. Omera’s hands held it gently, too kindly for him to accept. And to keep it, she would need him to lift the helmet, the one thing he could not give her. Being a Mandalorian is all he knows. So he took his heart with him, and he’s sure she’s better off without it.

But there was another who reached into his chest with claws and teeth and left him bloody from her affections. One he tries not to dwell on as long as he can. A time in his life that brought more shame than any other, misted in blood and sex and credits. 

He wants to share more of his world with you. You deserve to understand exactly why he is the man he is today.

But he does not think he can tell you about Xi’an.

“Got something special for you, Mando,” Karga says when he settles across the table. “You’ve been requested by name.”

Din cocks his head, one hand drumming restlessly. 

“That’s new,” he says. He likes playing mysterious for Karga, embodying all that a Mandalorian is supposed to be, even when some days he feels like a small child wearing his buir’s armor. At least it hides the worst of his apprehension, impassive helmet masking how his eyes constantly dart around the room, legs tense and ready to spring. 

“Ranzar Malk. Leads a small team of mercenaries.” 

Din tips his head back, folding his arms over his durasteel cuirass.

“Didn’t think you liked sharing the spoils,” he drawls, watching Karga carefully. The man laughs, sipping back some spotchka and winking at a woman sitting at his bar. 

“I don’t. I like my work without middle men. But they bring in very, very good credits. A percentage is more for both of us than the handful of riff-raff I could offer you.” Karga leans forward, elbow coming down and speaking lower. “They want the reputation a Mando can give their team. Help them get some bigger and better jobs. You lend them your striking silhouette, and you’ll be in enough credits to buy a whole suit of beskar. And my cut will be…barely noticeable.” The sly smile Karga schools off his face lets Din know it’s a lot more than unnoticeable, but the job intrigues him. 

“What kind of work is it?” he asks. Flashes of memories play at the corner of his mind - Mandalorians coming down from on high to save him, droids shredded in their wake.

“Malk and I have a strict ‘no questions asked’ policy. You do the work, you get paid.”

Din rolls his shoulders, fingers itching to grab onto something solid and deadly. 

“How long do they need my…reputation?”

Karga leans back and sweeps his hands wide.

“As long as you want. Open contract.”

Din considers the offer. Mercenary work has never been too lowly for a beroya, but he’d never done any. Mostly small-time criminals and shakedowns in return for credits. But if the money is as good as Karga makes it sound, it could help the covert ten times over. 

“Deal.”

“You must be the Mando.”

The voice is snarly, raked over a steel timbre. Din turns to see a barrel-chested, long haired man with a thick salt and pepper beard to match. His face is folded into a smile but the light of it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Extending a short-fingered hand, he pumps Din’s gloved one vigorously. 

“Karga said you were in need of reputation,” Din says, cooly delivering the lines he practiced on the flight to this no-name hangar in Outer Rim rubble.

“And what are you in need of, Mando?” Malk says, eyeing him with blatant curiosity. Din had planned for this question during his supply run. The covert wasn’t to be named, the last of a culture eradicated. So why was he still traveling, wearing the helmet if he’s not of an unseen world?

“Target practice,” is the dry answer he gives, leveling the helmet at the shorter man. Malk raises an eyebrow before a conspiratorial smile splits his lips. 

“I like you, Mando. Man of few words. You’ll get along with the other chatterboxes I run with.” 

Malk leads him to a hangar pad, small ships in various levels of disrepair scattered across the peeling floor. A sharp whistle brings three people into view, two purple Twi’leks and a human man. 

“My crew,” Malk says proudly, gesturing for them to come closer. The female Twi’lek saunters over with a swing in her hip, the heavy forehead-first stride of her companion close behind. The human throws a grease-spotted towel onto a box of tools and comes to an exasperated stop in front of Malk. 

“Can’t believe you shelled out credits for a tin man. I could have put a bucket on and we’d be just as well off,” the man says. His face is Malk claps him on the shoulder.

“Varlo,” Malk says, nodding to Din. He gives a polite tip of his head back. Varlo rolls his cold blue eyes and turns on his heel. His jaw is sharp and squared, matching his lithe frame as he climbs back into an open access hatch. The male Twi’lek approaches Din, soft footwork with his hands in his pockets.

“Qin,” he offers before Malk’s introduction, nodding his head at the amban rifle slung across Din’s chest. “Is it true weapons are part of your religion? Or is that all bedtime stories?” His smirk is condescending, not even veiled. A simmer of annoyance bubbles in Din’s veins but he tamps it out.

“Among other things,” he says instead, earning a sardonic smile and a handshake from Qin. 

“All weapons?” the female Twi’lek says at Din’s elbow, running her fingers up the length of the rifle’s barrel. Din twists away, visor meeting the sparkling challenge in the Twi’s eyes. 

“My sister, Xi’an,” Qin interjects as she circles Din with roaming eyes. She hisses at him, raising Din’s eyebrows under the helmet, before sharply switching to high-pitched giggles, like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever done. 

“Ohhhh, Mando, we’re going to have fun,” she says, finally coming to rest at her brother’s side. 

Din should have walked away in this moment, saved himself a lot of pain and heartache and blood. They were volatile, waiting for a spark to burn everything around them, and Din was only more kindling. 

The jobs were easy to start. Wealthy benefactors needing a little extra muscle to get their way. A handful of runaways returned home. One exceptionally smooth jailbreak. Din’s presence gave them a leg up on jobs, but his skills were where he became integral. Combat all done with the efficiency and proficiency of a Mandalorian, but flying was where he excelled. The Razor Crest, in her infancy when he first shook Malk’s hand, was a deadly bird under Din’s touch. Scrambling signatures aside, with Din piloting it was a ghost on the astral winds. 

It also became a strange cramped home to the five of them while they traveled. After complaints of too many credits spent on lodging, Malk casually inferred that the Crest could be a better home base. “We’re in it more than out most days,” was his dry reasoning, and with four people staring him down Din agreed, pangs of discomfort pushed to the back of his mind. It made sense, after all. The Crest was a cargo ship. Might as well fill it with cargo.

So between jobs and screaming dogfights in the sky, the mercenaries found themselves within the durasteel walls. Hammocks strung along the hold allowed for sleep, belongings mixing and melding to become communal. There was comfort in that for Din. Individuality beaten out of him in training, he preferred not knowing who liked what ration bar or whose ‘fresher items littered the floor. 

In that crush of company, however, he did learn about his family in arms. Not enough to urge him to reveal more of his own past. All of them lived in the present, their histories an inky shadow they let drag behind and paid no mind. He learned instead of their present, trial and error and observation his best tools.

Malk’s connections were far-reaching and unsavory, most bounties questionable in nature but not enough to turn down. He would choose jobs no one wanted, ones that were especially difficult or carried the highest price. A name for himself was the greatest goal, clawing for prestige in how fast, how deadly, how accurate the team could be. Din sometimes caught a feral glint in his eye when they returned, deed done. The crazier the escapade, the more he gloated in cantinas or to his associates. Rarely lifting a finger himself, he worked logistics and timing, connections and credits. And when the job was done, it was only his name that ever hung in the air as they walked away richer.

Varlo was quiet, calculating and cruel. Din thought the standoffishness was a front until he watched the man more closely and realized it was born of a distinct lack of empathy. He could not be bribed, or swayed, or bewitched. While Malk made connections and laid the groundwork, Varlo was the front man on foot. He could talk his way in, execute the seven councilmen sitting at a table full of secrets, and wipe the blood from a particularly valuable one before taking it as insurance. His carefully crafted armor of failsafes and blackmail let him sleep easy every night, no matter the strain Din might feel at the events of the day.

Qin was the strength of the operation. Not bulky like a Devaronian, but leagues stronger and more agile than his body could betray. With enough blaster cover he could incapacitate, maim, and kill anything in his path with his two hands. That surety in his body extended to his place in the world. His smile was always knowing, always scheming something behind the fangs. Time spent across from him could pass pleasantly - Qin could spin you a tale from thin air, wrestle someone into gasping submission, or share silence all in turn - but once he left there was the distinct feeling that he gained more than you meant to give. 

And then there was Xi’an. Qin and her relationship was manic on a good day, volcanic on a bad one. They snapped at each other constantly, enough that Din stopped trying to understand if they were mad at each other or simply passing the time. Where Qin was strength, Xi’an was stealth. Her steps made no sound, the silvery whistle of her knives the precursor to bodies on the floor. The delight she took in her own prowess turned Din’s stomach more than once. Brutal hisses and snarls giving way to raucous laughter and almost childish giggles raised the hair on the back of his neck. She was competent and brash, and Maker help anyone who said no to her. 

Behind all of them was Din, standing silent and glorious. His helmet parted crowds, murmurs and rumors following the swish of his cape. They wondered why he was running with this bloodthirsty lot, a member of one of the greatest warrior cultures. He let them guess. With his contributions his covert would grow, and one day the children - maybe even his children - would be able to stand in the sun on a world that they called home. 

Until then, he hunts.

Din manages to maneuver the delicate balance of this crew living on his ship for over a month before tensions rise. A week without work has made everyone snappish and riled. Malk is hidden away in the cockpit making calls so Din has to remain with them, arms folded as Xi’an needles at Qin. His lip curls into a snarl, and Din braces for a brawl.

“Treating me like your baby sister isn’t going to make the men think you’re tough,” she hisses, sauntering by Qin and circling Varlo. “They don’t care about blood when it comes to close quarters, long hours, pent-up frustration.” She walks her fingers up Varlo’s chest, stroking her pointer along his leather jacket. “Care to blow off some steam?”

Varlo skirts around her touch, dropping down on a crate and leaning back.

“Hard pass, I don’t dip into crazy,” he spits out, Xi’an’s mocking smile chased by a wink of his own. For someone who barely experiences emotion beyond curiosity and satisfaction, he’s good at faking it. With a turn on her heel, she approaches Din instead.

“Ever felt the touch of a woman, Mando? Let someone polish your beskar?” she trills. Din keeps his posture loose, tilts his helmet and sighs. 

“Quit dicking around, I’ve got something,” Malk says as he drops down the ladder. “Decommissioning factory has had some thefts. We’re doing short-term security until we catch the guilty party.”

Xi’an backs off, slumping down across from her brother as Din moves to set the Crest’s course. Out of the thick air of the cargo hold he can finally breathe. 

He’d wanted to rebuff her, brag about the women he’s brought to the heights of pleasure with just his fingers, but it’s a dangerous path to wander in the barrel of rocket fuel the Crest has become. Shifting his hips in the pilot seat, he thinks back to the last time he fucked his frustrations into another person.

A Togruta, maybe? Or was it that sassy brothel worker? 

(a girl on a desert planet that stopped time)

A shiver climbs his spine but he bats it down. In any event it’s been too long since he’s indulged in a soft body. He’ll take care of that after this job, ease some of the stress buried between his shoulder blades. It might make all of this strange arrangement more palatable.

Droids. It had to be droids.

Not the fact that the factory was decommissioning battle droids but that some were going missing, not turning up in the junk pile to be scrapped. The workers didn’t give two shits about it, but because the battle droids were so powerful and dangerous they had to have their chips pulled out and documented for the New Republic. Too many missing chips led to this group striding in like conquering forces. 

The first night is uneventful, Din passing patrols with Varlo and Xi’an. Varlo looks at him like another droid, the cold boredom on his face inexplicably boiling Din’s blood. Xi’an’s constant prowling only makes it worse, still determined to crack his stoic demeanor. He’s tired the next day, body running on too little sleep and too much adrenaline. Malk offers him caf that he refuses. He doesn’t like lifting the helmet in front of them.

The second night the issue comes into sharp focus. Not theft, but escape. A droid spray painted in yellow stripes enters the facility to reactivate its brethren. For what purpose they don’t know, and Din doesn’t care. Putting the droid in his sight, muscles tight around the amban rifle, Din squeezes a lifetime of pain behind the trigger. 

A cloud of dust. No more droid.

He thought that would satisfy the roar in his chest, but back in the Crest he’s more of a caged animal than before. Malk tells them to enjoy a day on-world, and Varlo and Qin follow him out to the industrial maze of the city. Din knows he needs something tonight, a fight or a fuck or both, so he gathers enough credits to cover his proclivities and makes to leave the ship.

“Where are you biding your time, Mando?” Xi’an’s voice purrs in the low light of the cargo hold. She’s draped over a storage crate, inspecting her nails and flashing a devious look at him when his visor turns. “Going to finally lose your virginity?”

He doesn’t know what compels him to say it. Maybe the constant pressure on all sides, or the neverending sniping at his expense. He knows it’s a mistake the moment he opens his mouth.

“Been a long time since I called myself that.”

Xi’an’s eyes flash up to the visor. It spikes in his stomach.

“I find that hard to believe, Mando, with all the…” She waves her hands around her head, pulling a serious face that she can barely keep on. He should stalk off, leave her to pouting and him to pounding into something softer and sweeter than whatever this was.

But it’s been too long, and he’s itching for confrontation in a way he’s never desired before.

“I’m good with my hands,” he says, one coming up to rest on his belt buckle, tilting his head to the side. Xi’an lifts off the crate, circling him with the serpentine swish of her gait.

“Oh I can believe that. Seen you with those weapons, your ‘religion.’ Man who keeps them that well cared for must be attentive in…other ways.” She slinks around to stand in front of him, dragging her eyes over the broad expanse of durasteel on his chest, flaking paint and silvered scratches. She walks her fingers down his chest, stopping at his trim waist. “But that doesn’t mean you know how to use this.” Her hand flashes out to grope at his crotch but he snatches her wrist, jerking her hands up as she squeals. For a moment he thinks it’s in pain, but the glint in her eyes and the flash of tongue between her fangs reveals it’s excitement. Releasing her, he moves to exit the cargo hold and find something, anything, to calm the rushing of his blood.

“Oh Mando, come on, wait,” Xi’an pleads, skipping back in front of him and adopting an apologetic expression. “We’ve all been cooped up here too long, rubbing each other the wrong way.” This time her hands glances down his side, nails lightly scraping along his hips before she drifts them feather-light over his cock. The electricity of her touch burns in his groin, filling him quickly. “Let me make it up to you, Mando. Rub you the right way this time.”

“This is…not a good idea,” he grits through his teeth, common sense screaming at him to leave, but the many-toothed monster that lurks in the back of his mind drools at the feeling of her fingers getting bolder, now stroking her palm over his stiffening cock. The helmet tips back a fraction as Din’s eyes flutter, excuses melting back into the delicious heat of her touch.

“The best ideas are the bad ones,” she teases, sidling closer to him. Her breath is hot on the edge of his cowl, soft little sighs zinging down his spine as she swipes her thumb over the clothed head of his cock. He tries to suppress the groan but it comes out a whine instead, spurring her on more. “You could use some release. Let me suck your cock, Mando. I’ll trade you for a kiss.” 

This is a monumentally bad idea and his survival instinct kicks in just before the monster waiting in the darkness claws his way to the forefront. 

“The helmet…stays on,” he grunts, backing up a half step. She rolls her eyes but triumph lives there now. 

“Fine, fine, your precious Creed. Then how about I give you a hand, and next time I’m in need of one you return the favor?” 

He struggles to take in a full breath, her fingers now wrapped around him and adding just enough pressure to spark in his pelvis and surge into his chest. He nods, fists clenching, as Xi’an’s smile breaks across her face.

“Oh Mando, how long have you been wanting this?” she purrs, sliding down his body to rest on her knees. Alarm bells sound in his mind. It’s too out in the open, too vulnerable. If Varlo or Malk or Qin, Maker forbid, came back he’d be caught and probably gutted. But the lap of her tongue along his waist as she opens the plaquet of his pants dissolves the worries into heady arousal as the monster he’s suppressed so long rears to life.

“Kriff,” he curses, tilting the helmet down to watch her pull his flushed cock out of his pants, thighs flexing when she coos over it. 

“So you’ve got the goods to back up all that swagger,” she sing-songs, looking up at him through her lashes as blood pumps loud in his ears. The arousal he’s feeling is unlike his usual encounters. In those he’s simmering even when his frustration is at an all time high, his pleasure delayed in favor of watching them writhe and gasp with the force of the orgasms he pulls out of them. It gets him harder than anything else. But now, looking down at someone who makes his blood boil at any given moment, his libido is at a roar screaming at him to fuck and bruise and take. The force of it makes his heart pound, unfamiliar and exciting.

“If you’re only going to look at it, I’ll go somewhere else,” he growls, keeping his voice as level as possible. It does the trick, her smile sly before she licks a long path from base to tip. The shudder is involuntary, a hot wet mouth not something he usually seeks out. He prefers a dripping pussy to bury his frustrations in but the power this position yields makes all the lewd cantina talk he’s scoffed at come into focus. 

“Patience, Mando,” Xi’an lightly scolds, but the thin wire of restraint he was still holding onto snaps. One large hand palms the back of her head, fingers digging into the edge of her head wrap for leverage. Her eyebrows lift in surprise just before Din presses his hips forward, breaching her lips with the head of his cock. He groans at the slick heat and the brush of her teeth over the ridge as he thrusts shallowly against her tongue. He thinks he sees a wrinkle of anger in her brow before her eyes flash with vengeance. She wraps her lips around him, sucking his head. 

“I’ve had enough of waiting,” he grits out, pulling back a fraction before sliding in deeper, pressing her further down his shaft. Her hands come up to his hips, fingernails digging in as a warning. The sharp points of pain focus his arousal, the mix with pleasure intoxicating. “You wanted it so karking badly, you….take it,” he growls, his thrusts deepening again as she takes him even further. Hissing around his intrusion, teeth come down enough to scrape along his cock just shy of unpleasant.

“Oh no you don’t,” he punches out, his other hand pinching her jaw to force her mouth wide. The lack of resistance drives him down her throat, a loud gag heaving her chest. The sound shocks his system, pulling back quickly as drool drips down her chin with her gasps. Uncertainty falls heavy over his libido now.

“Are you…?” he starts to ask, but Xi’an yanks him back to her face, pumping his cock quickly with the thick saliva she’s left on it.

“What’s the matter, Mando? Afraid of a little mess?” she taunts before swallowing him down again, the rough gags of her throat beginning in earnest. He can feel her spit dripping down his length, sliding over his balls as she rolls them roughly in her hand. It’s nothing he’s ever felt fucking a woman before, frustration and anger burning him inside out. He palms her head again, thrusting with her own bobbing rhythm as she hums around his cock. His hips pump, thighs clenching, stomach quivering at the onslaught of sensations driving him closer and closer to his high. Hazarding another look at her, she laughs around his cock before pulling off.

“If I’d have known it would be this easy to make you fall apart…” she begins to say, but Din shoves his cock roughly back into her mouth.

“Shut up,” he pants, fucking into her face in earnest. His orgasm is on the brink, body convulsing around her prone form as the monster ruts and chases his end selfishly. His teeth are clenched so hard he tastes blood, puffing air through his nose and snarling behind the visor. Vision red around the edges, his control is long gone as he fights her sharp nails and encroaching teeth and wild eyes. The tiniest voice begs him to stop, to look at what he’s doing, but when he sees her kneading at her mound over her pants, bucking her own hips in time with his punishing thrusts, everything lets go. He cums with a bellow, holding her there as his spend empties into her mouth. He gasps, sweat rolling down his neck and spine, the helmet almost suffocating with the heat trapped inside. 

When he pulls out Xi’an gasps and the gravity of the moment makes him stumble back. Tucking himself away he watches her cough on her knees, white streaks of his cum dribbling down her face to drip onto the durasteel floor. Once she catches her breath she looks up at him, and in her flashing eyes and feral smile he realizes something dark and devastating.

He wants to do it again.

Striding past to slam open the cargo bay doors, her roughened voice calls after him.

“That’s one on the books for me, Mando. I’ll come calling soon enough.”

His hands don’t stop shaking for hours.

Xi’an is right. It doesn’t take long for her to come to him.

A simple job gone bad, the target fleeing into hyperspace too quickly to follow. Xi’an had been seducing him in a flashy racetrack before he fled. Din had followed as her backup, watching her writhe on the target’s lap and whisper in his ear. Every now and then her eyes would flash to Din, holding the expressionless gaze of the visor as she guided another man’s hand to knead her breast. 

He told himself it wasn’t supposed to affect him. He didn’t care what she did, or who touched her. The scene from that night played in his head wrapped in nausea and regret. No partner he’d ever laid with drew out that much uncertainty and self-loathing, and he wasn’t keen to return to it.

But her curves still called to him, now straddling the mark’s waist. Familiar stirrings pulled up hard against disgust as he pushed the ravenous monster back down. It had gotten louder, fiercer after taking his pleasure so brutally. It screamed to take her again.

All of her work led to nothing. The target caught Varlo stalking up to apprehend him and make a quick exit. Even with four highly skilled mercs after him his resources won out. A faster ship, quicker access to his speeder. He was just within their grasp when he blasted off and into the atmosphere.

Xi’an shrieked her frustration into the air as the team re-entered the Crest. Malk confirmed there was no point following. They’d try again when he showed up at whatever gambling circuit he fancied next. She couldn’t stop prowling the ship, head down, glaring through her lashes. Varlo got a few sharp swipes for giving away their plan, but he threw up his hands and moved into the engine bay to let her cool off. Qin reclined in his hammock, watching bemused as she tried to self-soothe with no luck.

“Mando!” she finally hisses, jerking her head sharply as she strides past him and out of the Crest. His shoulders stiffen instantly, her brother’s hot stare branding his back. Hazarding a look back, Qin’s raised eyebrow and smirk make his face burn. But he still follows.

Xi’an is around the front of the Crest, leaning against the landing gear and seething. Din comes close, waiting for her to acknowledge his presence. Her eyes rake over the helmet, snarl less playful and more agitated. 

“I’m cashing in your debt, Mando,” she says, whipping her belt out of the loops so quickly it cracks. Din’s hands tighten on his, stance faltering.

“Not sure that’s a good idea,” he murmurs, bracing for the impact of his words. They land hard on her skin, quick steps bringing them chest to chest.

“I don’t give a flying kark what you think. I gave you my throat to cum in, it’s your turn. Give me your cock.” 

Din balks, trying to disentangle from the swirling vortex of rage, but her hands are small and quick to grab at the fabric around his neck.

“Or you can give me something else, Mandalorian. Show me your face if you won’t fuck me,” she snarls, grabbing for the edge of his helmet. He yanks her arm away, but the other tries just the same. He snags it in his fist, whipping his head back when she tries to knock the helmet off. Both wrists captured he pushes her back, pinning her against the landing gear. Her hips jerk against his own, legs kicking at his shins. Some blows land, leaving dark reminders for days to come. Her bared teeth and hissing finally push him to pin both of her hands with one of his, the other coming to firmly wrap around her throat. 

That finally stops her, eyes fluttering as he puts just enough pressure on her windpipe to quiet her. Hips rolling against his hardening cock, he leans in to crowd her against the durasteel mechanics.

“Is this what you want?” he husks, removing his hand from her throat to shove into her pants. The fit is tight, his thick forearm and vambrace stretching the waistband, but his skilled fingers cup her hot cunt. Even with the gloves on he can find her clit, roughly circling as she gasps and rocks against him. “Needed this attitude fucked out of you?”

“Mmm-hmmm,” she moans, hooking a leg behind his thigh to pull him closer. He yanks his hand out of her pants and pushes slick-soaked leather between her lips.

“Take them off, or I won’t,” he growls, waiting for her teeth to tug his gloves off his fingers. She stares at the tawny skin, all the silvery lines cross-crossing his knuckles and fingers. He tries not to dwell on this, on how she’s already pushed him past what he knows he shouldn’t do. Jamming his hand back into her pants he buries two fingers in her wet cunt, setting a fast and firm pace that has her crying out against his overwhelming hold. The monster snarls inside him, salivating at the prospect of rucking her pants down and…

“Mando, need your cock, need you to fuck me,” she whines, just short of begging. It knots his stomach that she knows how much she’s making him lose control. The rhythmic slap of his palm on her intimate flesh has him full and hard, grip tightening as he feels her walls spasm around his flexing fingers.

“Cum like this first and I’ll see if you deserve my cock,” he rasps, buying himself enough time to calm his raging libido a fraction. He shouldn’t fuck her, shouldn’t let this go on any longer than it already has, but his body is thrumming, snapping and snarling into her as she beckons him to let go, to find something blinding in her soaked cunt. 

Her orgasm clamps down on his fingers suddenly, the raw shriek making him clap his hand over her mouth. The loss of his hands pinning her wrists gives ample opportunity to rush open his pants and find his weeping cock. A few well-placed strokes has his rational mind dissolving into the single-minded concept of fucking.

He bends her over the landing gear, tearing her pants down over her ass to expose her glistening pussy. Normally that sight makes his mouth water. Instead he tugs on his cock a couple times to prepare. 

“Hurry up, Mando,” Xi’an whines, arching her back higher to present her hole to him. He pushes her chest down hard, a whoosh of air escaping before he sheaths his cock in her tight pussy. The momentary ecstasy of his slick entrance washes over him, planting both hands on either side of her head. His first thrust punches a moan from her lips, followed by a litany of curses and whines as he snaps his hips fast and hard. The loud smack of skin pulls out a thin moan of his own.

“Karking Maker, Mando, you feel so good,” Xi’an croons, a momentary lapse in vitriol. It makes Din chuckle as he grunts at her wet clutch.

“This all you needed? A cock to make you bearable?” he teases, angling his hips to drill into a spot inside he knows will make her scream. She gathers air before he shoves his sticky fingers into her mouth, pinching her jaw open as he penetrates her here too. Everything is dripping and liquid and hard and soft at the same time. His own orgasm is fast approaching, a roar in his ears that he chases with fervor.

“Gonna cum again,” Xi’an gasps around his fingers, slamming back against Din’s thrusts as she chases her own end. Two people so far inside but so far apart.

Din dutifully reaches between her legs and pinches her clit, sending her toppling over into a shuddering orgasm that clenches his cock so hard he has to pull out and cum all over her other tight hole. Lightheaded and heavy-limbed, Din tries to regain a semblance of control over the situation. 

This is just returning the favor.

This won’t happen again.

He doesn’t want this to happen again.

Shuffling back, he uses his bare hand to scrape his cum off her ass and flick it on the ground. Xi’an pulls her pants back up as Din tucks himself away and turns to stride back into the Crest. 

Stepping outside looking to be without a care in the world is Qin, licking Jogan fruit juice off his fingers as he discards the peel on the ground. Din’s whole body locks up, fight or flight response screaming at him to get away. 

“Get a good eyeful brother?” Xi’an singsongs behind Din, walking past him to re-enter the ship. Qin mock-glares at her as she passes and saunters away. When his eyes land back on Din he waits for a fist or a blade to connect with his flesh. Instead Qin just shakes his head with an amused expression and follows his sister.

Dread lands heavy in Din’s belly. His grip is slipping and he’s not sure whether he’ll hang on or fall into something even harder to climb out of.

That was the last time, he says to himself as he leaves a freshly fucked Xi’an in the ‘fresher. 

This time it’s over, he says as he splatters his cum on her tits. 

Never again, he promises after he spills his load into her tight asshole, cursing to the Maker about how good she feels choking his dick. 

He tries over and over to stop it, to tell her no, but every time she whines and needles and baits until he can’t help but bury his frustrations in her body. 

It’s been months since he joined Malk’s crew, and the spoils of their missions were fat in his pocket. He knows he should sneak off to the covert, give them the credits needed to keep them safe. Or to Karga, pay him his cut of whoring out his Mandalorian. It itches in the back of his brain, the duties he’s supposed to be performing.

Instead, he ignores Karga’s messages on his holo. He spends the credits on upgrades to the Crest and Corellian whiskey and brothels. The last is in a desperate hope to rid him of his addiction to the purple Twi’lek plaguing his bed. 

She stalks his days and haunts his nights, rarely away from each other. It makes it easy to let her straddle his waist in the tiny cubby of a bed and ride him until he’s dripping out of her. Sometimes she follows him when they’re on-world to the places where he spends his credits. The first time he caught her he made her watch as he fucked a plain but skilled prostitute. The following times, she joined him in his debauchery. 

He tells himself it’s the last time every time, but the fire always returns. The itch under his skin. The monster that roars under Xi’an’s sharp nails and sharper tongue batters the inside of its cage and howls until Din can leave more marks on her skin. It’s feral and bloodthirsty. Definitely unhealthy.

He still can’t stop.

The bounty they lost finally turns up in a swanky hotel on Coruscant. Xi’an goes to complete the job, her cover not blown enough to approach the target again. Words and drinks pass between them before his hands are groping her beneath the table. They slink away together, Din’s helmet following their heat signatures. The man’s crotch is white fire, but Xi’an’s registers no hotter than her body temp.

Couldn’t even get her wet. He’d have her blazing by now.

Din waits for the signal to apprehend the target outside the closed hotel room. Long minutes tick by, Din’s imagination spinning wildly as he imagines the man’s fingers in her pussy, licking her clit like he can never do, spitting in her mouth like he sometimes imagines with a frightening tightness in his groin. 

A trill sounds. Time for action.

Din bursts in, blaster pointed ahead of him to take in the lewd scene. Xi’an is naked on the bed, the target thrusting into her from behind. Her face is bored until she sees Din enter, lax posture trading for silky and sexy.

“What the kark-!” the target shouts, hands shooting up in surrender. 

“Took you long enough, Mando, I had to put up with this paltry cock for much too long,” she sighs, arching her back and presenting her heavy tits between her arms. 

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold,” he rasps, modulator hiding the strain in his voice. Xi’an tuts, shaking her head.

“This is my mission, Mando, and I get to decide that.” She cocks her head at him, backing up against the target.

“Does it make you jealous, knowing he’s inside me right now?” she purrs, circling her hips to elicit a choked gasp. Din’s hand tightens on the blaster, forcing his posture to be neutral.

“You did what you had to,” he grits out. Xi’an shrieks out a laugh.

“I didn’t have to fuck him. I wanted to, because I wanted to see what you’d do when another man tries to cum inside me.” 

Din’s arm begins to shake, and the monster snarls inside him. Mine, it roars. My fucked up little thing to break.   

“What are you going to do, Mando?” she taunts, rolling her hips on the terrified man’s cock. 

“What you want.”

Xi’an’s eyes flash in triumph. 

“I want to bring him in cold.”

Din shoots a blaster bolt between the man’s eyes, toppling him over and onto the bedroom floor. Xi’an wastes no time crawling to the end of the bed and turning around, round ass in the air. 

“Fuck him out of me, Mando.”

They pull orgasm after orgasm out of each other with a dead man on the floor. His blood stains one corner of the bedding, crimson as regret. When Din has her splayed out below him, tits bouncing at the force of his thrusts into her abused pussy, she croaks out a request.

“Take it off.”

He stills inside her, fire in his veins replaced by ice cold clarity.

“No.”

Xi’an snarls at him.

“Show me the face of the man that’s fucking me, Mandalorian.”

His hand comes up around her throat, a warning squeeze rougher than the ones he normally doles out. She quiets, but he has to flip her over to drill out his last orgasm. The disdain on her face is too much.

Seventeen missed holos from Karga. Shadows that follow him when he strides through town. And yet Din can’t pull his head above water. The light get fainter every time. During one mission he freezes in front of a snarling attack massiff and for a blissful moment wonders if its bite would kill him if he bared his throat. Varlo fells it instead, giving Din a confused look as they return to the Crest.

“You been sleeping, Mando? You seem off.”

Din bristles, stride widening.

“Don’t pretend that matters to you.”

Varlo shrugs, veering off to speak to Ranzar. The anger masks the anguish until later that night, when Din begs for the thoughlessness of sleep.

“Need some company, Mando?” Xi’an asks, like she does most nights. 

It’s better than guilt, at least.

It’s not long after Xi’an’s hunt that Qin climbs up into the cockpit while Din is piloting. They just entered hyperspace, the streaks of light soothing Din. The quiet sinks into his bones, contrasted against the dread of re-entering the cargo hold. The air is thick with boredom and potential energy waiting for a spark.

He’s turning to leave, find somewhere to escape for a few more moments of peace, when Qin clears his throat. He stands in the doorway, leaning against it with folded arms. Din stills, a standoff between the two men. He was wondering when he might have to endure this conversation.

“Whatever is going on between you and my sister,” Qin starts, right to the meat of the matter. Din respects that he doesn’t pull punches. “You need to figure it out soon. You may be having the time of your life fighting…and fucking.” He sneers at this, making Din’s face scorch under the helmet. “But the longer she thinks something is going to come out of it, the worse it will be when you tell her no.” Qin shifts to stand chest to chest with Din. They’re close in height but in this moment Din feels small and sacrificial.

“She doesn’t like being told no. I’m sure you’ve seen that.”

He has. The helmet is the symbol of his refusal, and Xi’an seethes at it. More than once he’s had to pin her hands down, too bold in her touches. Some days she playfully grabs at the lip, pulling him down to her level, but doesn’t let go quick enough for Din’s liking. Other times she lays her hands on either side and it feels tender. Her eyes soften, and Din wonders if there’s a hurt girl under all the posturing that wants proof that he cares for her. 

He’d told her once, as they laid in a post-coital tangle. The Creed, the helmet, why it meant so much to him. He didn’t speak of the covert, or of any other Mandalorians. They both have their own secrets.

“It’s a symbol of my fidelity,” he said. Xi’an lifted up on one elbow and studied the sharp lines and curves of the helmet, fingers tracing the impressive profile. 

“How beautiful it must be, to have someone so devoted,” she murmured. “What a gift.”

It’s one he can never give her, and she can never forget it.

“If you aren’t planning on giving her what she wants,” Qin husks, leaning in with a steely gaze. “Don’t drag it out. Make it professional.”

He leaves as quickly as he arrived, the weight of his words now on Mando’s shoulders. Qin has never been kind, but his ultimatum is a balm to Din’s anguish. He needs to end it. If he believes her to have any gentleness underneath her posturing it would be cruel to continue. There is no room in his devotions for her. 

The monster inside his chest finally soothes, curls into a ball and sleeps.

She doesn’t take it well.

“You want this to stop?” she laughs, lounging against a tree. Din had deigned to tell her away from the others, wanting privacy and space for her anger to hit a flash point.

“We’re professionals. This is too messy,” Din says, keeping his voice as even and calm as he can. Her face changes from incredulity to anger.

“This isn’t over just because you get a crisis of conscience.” She pushes off the tree and stalks towards him, suspicion coloring her demeanor. “Did my brother say something to you?”

That’s a trap he’s not going to walk into.

“I can’t give you what you want,” Din says, holding his ground as she comes chest to chest, much like her sibling. How alike they are in their ruthlessness. 

“Of course you can. You’ve got a perfectly good cock and talented fingers and some Maker-blessed stamina. Plus you’re filthy,” she purrs, raising goosebumps on Din’s neck. “What else does a girl need?”

Din tilts his head, watching her closely as he sees the shroud of the lie settle.

“The helmet,” he sighs, exasperated. His words hit the target. Xi’an’s features twist, shocked out of her feigned nonchalance.

“You’re ending this over a stupid little symbol?” she spits out, circling him like a prowling loth-cat. Din tenses, tempted to follow her path but knowing she’ll take advantage of it. He prepares for a blade. 

“I won’t remove it for you. And I’m done fighting you trying to do it yourself.” 

There’s a moment where he sees the hurt girl he’s trying to spare. It’s quickly raked back with fury. She hisses, digging her fingers into his cowl and yanking him backwards. He stumbles to his knees, his cape now wrapped around her forearms as she cuts off his air .

“All your morals and high ground as you’re spilling as much blood as we are, Mando. Defiling my body as you pray to your Creed. You’ll be crawling back to my cunt in no time, and I’ll slit your throat before I let you make a fool out of me.” Just as his vision begins to darken she releases her hold, letting painful lungfuls of air back into his chest. One boot kicks him square in the back, and he topples forward into the dirt.

“You’ll regret this, Mandalorian.”

She storms off to the Crest, leaving him gasping and coughing. He wishes, not for the first time, that he never shook Malk’s hand, never let them onto the Crest, never let Karga talk him into this. 

He wishes for time to stop, to take back everything the last months had carved out of his soul. For a bed, and a soothing touch.

(where is she now? Could she ever look at him the same way, after all he’s done?)

“New assignment,” Malk calls down, a groan of relief lifting the mood in the hold. “Big yield, and even bigger hush money.”

Qin grins, jostling his sister as Malk descends to them. She nods, listless since their argument. Din prefers that to the rage. It still pulls at a confusing feeling in his chest, something akin to regret.

“Where we off to? I’ve been itching to get out of this karking morgue,” Varlo gripes, taking the holopad from Malk. 

“Cleanup effort on Alzoc III. There’s some mines infested with a local species the mining company needs cleared out. Not sentient, but territorial. Mando, need you in the air. Varlo, running logistics. Qin, Xi’an, you’re with me doing ground work.” 

Din rolls his shoulders and cracks his knuckles. A big haul should set everyone up for a good while. Improve spirits, and maybe give him the boost to break away from this group that only becomes more hostile by the day. His silence will cost him, but with enough credits he may be able to buy himself back into the covert, and the Guild’s good favor. 

Alzoc III it is.

The planet is icy and hostile, vast snow-swept tundras and sharp peaks slicing up into the permanently gray skies. The harsh weather eats up heat from the outside in, the Crest’s life support systems working overtime to keep the interior above freezing. Din had to pull out a heavier flight suit, the other crew members donning furs and goggles in preparation for the mission. Xi’an had taken to glaring at Mando any time he was in the room, so he’d stayed in the cockpit for most of the trip. Malk had scoffed at him, standing behind the pilot’s chair as Din maneuvered them out of hyperspace.

“Women problems, Mando?” 

Din did not deign to give him an answer, but Malk persisted.

“Not a good idea to mix business and pleasure. A man of your experience should be more careful,” he says, clapping a hand on Din’s paudron. He tenses, but Malk releases him quickly after and heads into the tense hold with a snicker under his breath.

Din can’t wait to have the Crest to himself. Months of close quarters were making him itchy with tension, a constant frenetic thrum under his skin that he can’t even fuck out now. Varlo’s company would be silent at least. Plus a simple point-and-shoot mission has its appeal. The rest of the dossier states that the mines are overrun to the point that they can’t send in crews to extract the planet’s precious commodities. 

Varlo plots a multi-stage assault; Malk, Xi’an and Qin would place bombs at mine entrances and pick off anything that could tip off the plan. Once at their sniper posts, Din would aerial attack the mines from above, detonating the bombs and dropping his own payloads to collapse strategic parts of the tunnels. The mining company provided blueprints, and designated the choke points that would create the least amount of cleanup effort for them after the fact. 

In retrospect, when Din’s nightmares push into this shadowy period of his life, it was so well thought out it should have made him pause. They didn’t need highly skilled mercenaries, they needed bodies to carry out this plan. What the company really bought was silence, and anonymity.

Din circles the Crest just out of range of the mines, waiting for the go signal from Malk. Varlo lounges in the jump seat, occasionally speaking through his communicator. Din doesn’t much enjoy conversing with Varlo, so of course this is the time he decides to be chatty.

“So, was she purple like…all over?” Varlo says, raising the hackles on Din’s back. 

“You can ask her yourself. I’m sure she’d love to tell you,” Din replies calmly, banking a little harder to the left than he means to. Varlo chuckles low in his throat, his gaze burning into Din’s back.

“I mean I could, but it’s more professional curiosity. I’m surprised she hasn’t gutted you in your sleep yet.”

“Mando, time to shine!” Malk’s voice rings from the Crest’s holocomm.

“Roger,” Din murmurs, the muscle memory of his training kicking in as the Crest dives into the valley. Everything that’s plagued him for months - the loss of control, the cloying atmosphere, Xi’an’s magnetic push and pull - all fades into the background when he’s flying. His shoulders loosen, grip on the controls firm but relaxed. The lift and dip of the Crest is a familiar dance, lapping waves on a beach he’s never visited but somehow always knows. 

Then the first explosion appears through the transparisteel, and he dives into action.

The entire assault lasts maybe a quarter hour. Each explosion triggered by Malk is timed with another bomb Varlo releases out the cargo doors. The more powerful weapons hit their mark, miles of tunnels collapsing with shifting snow to fill in the depressions. Sometimes a small group of moving creatures - barely perceptible - burst from an entry, and the on-ground team quickly eradicates them. Din isn’t even sure he feels the cold creeping into the ship, too wrapped up in the warmth of a skill he’s honed for decades being used to its utmost ability. 

“That’s it, Mando, we’ll bring her down to pick up the rest at the hanger pad.” Varlo indicates a vast stretch of buildings, no doubt some shipping operation, with a generous landing zone. Din wonders how much trade must happen on this desolate planet, and how pitiful their price must be compared to the credits the company rakes in. 

Once landed, Varlo leaves to speak with their contact and provide a final report. Malk gets the payment, but he’ll be a little while traipsing across the frozen grounds. Din takes the lack of anyone on his ship as a brief moment of respite, checking for any potential damage and wandering through the cluttered living space. His annoyance at the mess is less than usual, the silence after a job well done vastly improving his mood. 

Deeper in the ship checking on engine function, Din hears a clatter. His shoulders slump again. He’d hoped for a little more peace and quiet before they returned. Trudging out to the cargo bay, he’s met with an even stranger sight.

Varlo left the cargo door open, the windbreak from the surrounding buildings keeping the elements at a minimum. Instead of the crew ascending the ramp, two furred creatures freeze just inside the warmth of the Crest. The larger one puts its body between Din and the smaller one, four black pearl eyes locked on him. His hand itches to grab his blaster, absolutely certain these are the creatures infesting the mines. They’re supposed to be hostile, ferocious and powerfully strong. He might be able to take one, but two could be a problem. He steels himself for a charge, but the larger one holds up one long-clawed hand, three fingers spread in the universal symbol for wait.

Din stops, confusion and a cold pit of dread opening in his stomach. The larger creature looks back at the smaller one, stroking its face as they make high pitched chirps and buzzes at each other through strange tubular mouths. Their fur is matted white and gray, easy to blend in on the tundra, as they tower taller than most bipedal creatures Din has encountered. The brief conference concluded, the larger creature rummages in its fur.

Din snaps his hand to his blaster, unholstering it in a flash to point at the creatures. The smaller one squeals - Din swears it’s in terror - and the larger one whips its head up to look at Din. It stills, one hand now held out overflowing with baubles. Din’s blaster falters as the creature takes a tentative step forward, offering lustrous milky pearls. His throat closes up, but his training keeps his weapon on them. At his lack of movement the creature looks back at the smaller one, urging it forward. It holds their faces together, foreheads touching as plaintive whines cut through the air. The pearls transfer, and the larger of the two urges the smaller forward. 

Din can’t breathe, chest banded with horror. The littler creature holds out the offering, clicking and chirping as the larger one waits back. It’s all too clear to a man who lost his family in a war he did not understand what this transaction is, and what the consequences of his actions means. He drops the blaster, stepping towards the creatures. They shrink back in fear, but the little one still holds out shaking hands, pearls dropping to clink on the durasteel floor.

“I…” he says, heart hammering in his throat. The larger one - the mother, he thinks - raises its head with something like hope. 

“What the kark?!” Varlo shouts, ascending the ramp. Din tries to speak, to explain that everything has gone so wrong in a handful of moments, but Varlo’s blaster is already out.

Three bolts, loosed with deadly efficiency, and the smaller creature falls, pearls scattering on the floor and rolling away. The shriek of the larger creature will haunt Din for years, as clear as the day he heard it when he finds another pearl lost in the ship.

“No!” Din screams, but Varlo is already turning to the charging creature. Three powerful swipes knock him down, blood spurting into snow, before he fells the creature with another series of blaster bolts. Then it’s just Din, gasping amongst the gore. Sobs wrench his throat, hot tears running down his cheeks as he shakes on his feet.

“Fuck, Mando…need…kit,” Varlo gasps. The creature cut him deep, flashes of white bone peeking through the layers of flesh. Blood dribbles from his lips, teeth stained red as he struggles to breathe. His voice is faraway and tinny, but Din’s body answers. He walks numbly to Varlo’s side, kneeling beside the man’s mutilated body. 

“They were sentient,” he says, and the horror blends into anger, one hotter and more encompassing than any he’s ever felt. 

“Get me a Maker-damned bacta shot!” Varlo burbles, a rough cough spraying blood on Din’s chestplate. He’s not sure when he decided to slit Varlo’s throat, but one moment he’s alive, the next he’s laid out with unseeing eyes, the messy slash of a vibroblade mimicking the brutal claw marks. 

He doesn’t remember moving the creatures’ bodies, laying them down on the icy ground outside the Crest.

He doesn’t remember what he tells the others when they return. Xi’an and Qin stalk by, barely affected. Malk chews the inside of his cheek, staring at Varlo’s corpse for a few moments before entering the Crest.

“Split is four ways now. First come first serve to his things. We take off in 5.”

Din doesn’t recall where his body was during takeoff, or once they got into hyperspace. The events play like a holovid missing an actor, feelings and sensations eerily absent. He thinks he piloted them off world, attributed to muscle memory. He remembers a conversation, but not with who, or why it began.

“The species was sentient. They tried to barter to get on the ship.” 

“Mando….”

“One attempted to sacrifice itself for the other. An animal can’t do that.”

“We got paid not to ask questions.”

“That wasn’t a mission. That was genocide.”

“You’ve done worse, Mando. We all have.”

Except that wasn’t true. In the song of Din Djarin, this would always be his greatest sin. 

One tip to the New Republic was all it took. A set of coordinates and a date and time. Malk wanted to gamble and whore after Alzoc III, and Qin and Xi’an had no qualms. Din only sat silently, the days since the genocide bleeding into one another. Xi’an had tried to tease him about it - seems like you lucked out against those claws - but his cold turn of the head and quick exit quieted her tongue. 

He waited for them to leave, credits in hand, before reporting their whereabouts to the New Republic garrison. He conveniently left himself and the Crest out, detailing his crewmates’ crimes and exactly where they would be. Then he laid low, waiting for enough time to pass so as to not arouse suspicion. 

He would not see Qin or Malk for many more years, though he’d hear of their escape from some Guild contacts. Not much could hold either of them for long. Xi’an didn’t leave him so quietly. 

“Karking traitor!” she screams, leaping on his back outside of the Crest. A blade sinks into his shoulder, ripping a cry from his lips. She pulls it out and drives it back in his bicep, his hands scrabbling to throw her off. She gets him two more times before he crushes her against the Crest’s hull, knocking her grip loose. His left arm is screaming, blood pouring down his fingers. 

“After all we did for you, you turned us in?!” Her knife hits home again, swinging to stab into his calf and the meat of his thigh in quick succession. Din disarms her, skittering the knife away, before landing a blow in the center of her chest that, with a little more force, could have stopped her cruel heart. She lies gasping on the ground, eyes wide and wild as they look at him towering over her. For a moment that uncomfortable feeling pulls at him again, something like regret and remorse and a mourning of what could have been. It weakens him enough to kneel down, body screaming.

“I’m sorry…” he tries to say, the next words lost in his turmoil. Sorry for starting whatever fucked-up thing they had between them? Sorry for not being able to give her what she wanted? Sorry for how it was destined to end?

Another blade sinks into his side, ripping down as she screeches. 

“You are nothing but a traitor, Mandalorian. Betrayer of your allies, of your Creed. I hope your Maker-damned helmet ends up in the gutter with your corpse.”

He yanks the blade free, head dizzy at the realization that much of his blood is on the ground instead of inside him. He puts one hand around Xi’an’s neck and squeezes down. She’s out in seconds, dragged to the hangar entrance for the New Republic guards to find. Safe or not, he takes off with the Crest and manages to close up enough of his wounds with the cauterizer to stop the bleeding, burnt flesh singing his nostrils. He blindly dials in coordinates for Nevarro, barely staying conscious through the jump. Once autopilot kicks in he dips into darkness.

The Guild takes him back. Begrudgingly. He pays his dues and offers them the pearls the creature spilled across the hold. Their value surprises him, almost annoyed he didn’t save some for himself, but the thought of his own pockets lined with treasures given by the dead chills his blood. He leaves them all with Karga, and waits for the distrust to fade from his face. 

The covert welcomes him back with disapproval. His wounds spare him for a few weeks, sequestered from the rest of his people. It makes him ache, the obvious disappointment of his alor and the wariness of his fellow Mandalorians. The rumors swirl about where and why he was gone so long, why their beroya would betray them. He takes his penance, every blow and setback and humiliation. It is no worse than how he punishes himself.

When he returns to the Crest, tucked in the back of a trusted hangar, the mess strewn about the hold claws at his throat. He removes every memory of those months, setting belongings and refuse outside the cargo doors for scavengers to pick through. Even his own personal items make it into the pile, the memories attached to them too painful. 

He cleans the ship top to bottom. No more hammocks strung from every corner. No more constant noise. No more ever-mounting tension. Just durasteel and silence. 

It takes a full day to bring the Crest back to pre-Malk condition. The darkness surrounds Din, and after weighing the pros and cons of returning in the night he closes the cargo door. Shuttling open the small cubby sleeping space, he crawls in and settles on his side. The door slides shut with the lights dimming soon after.

Din lies there as his body slowly quiets, his armor digging into his sore shoulder, tender ribs and neck. Piece by piece he removes it, laying the shining examples of his honor beside him. The helmet is last, and it’s the first time in months he’s been able to breathe without it inside his own ship. The pillow is measly under his head, but he sinks down with a sigh. Arms tucked into his chest, knees pulled up to his stomach, surrounded by the walls of his ship and nothing else, he lets himself mourn the deeds he’d done. It will be far from the last time, but this is the rawest, the most painful as he let the shame grip him. Once exhaustion wins the hums and whirrs of the Crest lull him to sleep.

Din doesn’t tell you about Xi’an. It’s a lie of omission - you never prod him on his past, and he rarely asks about yours. There’s no reason to dredge up pain. If you want to offer something you do, and if you truly ask him he’ll offer pieces of his own. But you’re not swapping stories around the fire. So he sees no reason to tell you.

Until one day, he does.

It was the perfect sandstorm of triggers. A child snarling at her brother, then squealing out a laugh that cuts through his head. The singing of blades through the air as some men toss them at a target. A purple Twi’lek between you and Din, reaching out a hand to clap your shoulder. Din’s hurried steps bring him to your side in record time, helmet tilted down in challenge but the Twi just looks at him curiously and takes a step back. Your own brow knits, a bag of supplies in hand. 

He tries to center himself back on the Crest, busying his racing thoughts with jump calculations and messages to contacts about the Jedi. It works until you climb up to the cockpit, leaning against the console as he turns his attention to you.

“Bean found something in the ship, I thought it might be important,” you say, holding out your upturned palm.

A pearl.

He thought he’d found them all, but the child’s nosiness unearthed one last bloody memory. He freezes, hands tight on the console. 

“Been holding onto some treasure?” you tease, but your face is uneasy as you sense the tension in the air. “I’ll put it somewhere safe, maybe we can barter it…”

“No,” Din rebukes sharply, snapping the visor to you. Your eyes widen, chest curling in on yourself. 

“Okay,” you say quietly, hand closing around the painful object. Din slumps, leaning forward and hanging his head.

“I’m sorry, it’s…nothing good will come of that. It was bought with blood,” he says quietly.

“So are most things on the Crest,” you say, wrapping your arms around your middle. Din heaves in a breath.

“Not the same kind.”

And so he tells you the story of Ranzar Malk and his employment, of the acidic crew and the six cloying months he spent with them. Of Xi’an and her allure, and the pain it caused. Of Alzoc III. Of the pearls. 

You listen in silence, watching as Din relates his darkest story. The shame burns his skin, eats at his stomach, sours his tongue. How can he possibly redeem himself in your eyes after this? Would you ever look at him the same again?

Once he finishes, and the quiet of the ship pervades, you move to stand between his parted knees. Two hands settle on his shoulders, and without reservation he wraps his arms around and lays his head just below your breasts. The rhythmic inhale-exhale of your breathing cools his pain.

“Have you seen any of them since?” you ask. Din huffs out a sigh.

“Malk hired me for a job a few months back. Didn’t tell me the mission, just relied on a debt being repaid and the Crest still flying.” Din shifts against you, considering leaning away, but your firm hands keep him held to your chest.

“Was it bad?”

“We were rescuing Qin from a prison ship. Xi’an was there, set me up to be killed by the new team. I left them there.” After the draining retelling, he can’t bring himself to extrapolate on the tense reunion.

Tell me why I shouldn’t cut you down where you stand.

I did what I had to.

Oh, but you liked it.

You were hired to do a job, so do it. 

Isn’t that your code?

Aren’t you a man of honor?

“Thank you for telling me,” you finally say, stroking your thumbs along the line of his shoulders. “That was…difficult. To tell, I’m sure. It was hard to hear.” Din fists your shirt, squeezing his eyes closed at what will surely come.

“You made decisions and you’ve suffered the consequences of them.” You cup the back of his neck through his cowl. “And if you think I haven’t made a terrible decision about who to trust, I have stories I can share. Later,” you say, lightness in your voice. It makes Din lean back to look at your face. If you could see his, you would know his mouth is dropped open, eyes wide and wet, as you stroke the sharp lines of his helmet. You’re the only one he trusts to touch.

“Did you think I would hate you for this?” you ask, and Din’s nod is barely perceptible but you feel it. “You’ll surprise me, and terrify me many more times Mando, but you’ll never drive me away. The galaxy is only shades of gray.”

He lets you hold him for a time, hands soothing on his worn body. Your acceptance doesn’t heal him. By now he’s not sure anything will. But it balms the wound enough to breathe easier. 

It’s the beginning of letting himself know you, and be known by you. When you say that your best friend taught you how to skip rocks, he asks how you met her. When you look on in wonder as he dresses a piece of game, he explains how his buir taught him survival hunting. And when the child wraps his tiny claw around Din’s thumb and he strokes it gently, you ask him if he has a son somewhere. 

“No,” Din answers, the child warm in his arm and your body close enough to coax into his, if he would dare let himself want it. “But the Creed states the importance of caring for foundlings, and raising warriors.”

You hum and smile, turning back to your task, and for a moment much longer than fleeting, Din lets himself wonder if this is what a clan is supposed to feel like, and when it grew from two to three. 

END

Interlude 2 of the I Think of You series

[baenyth]

Bizarre V3 AU Explanations and More!

I wanted to explain a bit more about the ongoings of my Bizarre V3 AU a bit more and explain some behind-the-scenes stuff, so let's-a-go!

All of the main 16 characters have or will have superpowers! This was foreshadowed in Miu's, Maki's, Ryoma's, Kokichi's, Gonta's, Kirumi's, and Tenko's character descriptions. I don't know what everyone's will be, but a basic description of the power system is that they have the rareness and luck factor of Stands from Jojo but resemble the Devil Fruit users in One Piece more in that the abilities are physical and can be seen by anyone. Unlike Devil Fruits, abilities can be stacked and there can be multiples of the same ability, so two people could be elastic, but one can drain stamina and convert it into light while another can generate electricity and make metal and plastic float around.

There's also a second power system that's essentially Haki from One Piece. Willpower shaped into three different forms.

The Seven Holy Essences are one of the main things Bizarre V3 will be about aside from the characters themselves. Their inspirations are the infinity stones, the chaos emeralds, antiquated western and Japanese astronomy/mythology, and the general concept that plot coupons could be anything, really.

The "smaller, lesser essences" are based on the fixed stars and are a pretty important part in the overall backstory.

I don't have too much of a plot laid out so far, but I want it to be five "seasons" of sort. All I have is season 1 (basically what the character introductions set up,) season 2 (Idabashi lore, maybe take inspiration from Sonic Adventure 2? Add in the Purple People Eater somewhere, first final boss fight, etc.) and season 3 (version 3 of Star-Hunter Squadron: Elite Rangers!)

Characters do wear alternate outfits, including day-by-day clothes (well, most of them have day-by-day clothes.) Shuichi has clothes on and off the job, Kaede has a variety of sweater vest-related combos, Miu wears various outfits that are not lab-safe, etc.

Ships I'll feature are as follows: Saimatsu, Harukaito, Tenmiko and maybe even polyamory with Angie, Irumatsu (in the form of awkward and bitter exes,) ambiguous and possibly one-sided Saioma, Omota, and Omeno, Kokichi x some original character that appears in season 2 and is supposed to have a ludicrous amount of chemistry with him, and Kirumiu (is that the name for Kirumi x Miu? Miurumi?), mostly because I like it and my idea for it is that two women trying to get information out of eachother end up bonding over a lot of similarities between the two.

Writing-wise, the hardest part for me is trying to fit the Himiko plots into everything else. Himiko's busy with her overprotective girlfriend, joining what may be a cult, and serial killers while the other three-fourths of the cast is trying to figure out what the hell is going on with displacements and blue glows. Maybe Gonta gets depressed and exhausted from finding no results and goes to see one of Himiko's shows or even invites Himiko and her lovely assistant over, but Tenko gets involved in said displacements and blue glows.

To explain what I mean by "disappearances, reappearances, and displacements," here's some of the mysteries described: "Help! I can't find my husband" solved as "Oh! There's my husband! At a restaurant we went to once and hated? And he doesn't know how he got there?", "I couldn't find my keys, but they were in the attic. I wasn't in the attic since five years ago.", and "What the heck is the TV remote doing in my neighbor's front lawn?"

Danganronpa will appear as an in-universe franchise, but non-V3 characters will appear. It'll make sense when it comes up. Also fake memories implanted into vessels may show up.

There will be a fight scene between Maki and Kirumi in season 1 where they both use their powers because 1. They are on opposing sides and 2. Cool strong women fighting.

My idea of "Ryoma heavily interacting with DICE" partly came due to my desire to do something unique with Ryoma. I'm honestly getting tired of him being paired up with Kirumi and Gonta. I think there'll be a scene between Ryoma and Kirumi in season 2 and possibly onward, but in general I want Kokichi and Kirumi to interact, maybe a few Kokichi-Gonta interactions too, but little-to-no Ryoma-Gonta interactions. Also it makes sense to pair up the criminals and the gentleman and maid together.

The Gokuhara manor's description of vegetation growing in and around it is supposed to be similar to how there was vegetation growing in the Ultimate Academy for Gifted Juveniles.

Rantaro has to be the green ranger because his western VA played The green ranger. I had a power rangers hyperfixation when I was 10.

[pilot-boi]

Can you pretty please write Ruby having to tell Ren and Nora why Jaune isn't with em after coming back?

(Get ready for pain y'all. Also included Oscar, because he deserves it.)

The journey back to Remnant is not pleasant, and Ruby would not recommend it.

Sure, she’s had her fair share of de-materialization, probably more than most people due to the nature of her Semblance. But this is a new flavor of awful. 

She feels like she’s being squeezed down a very thin tube, the pressure crushing all the air out of her lungs. Darkness presses in on her eyes like a weight, and after the sensory overload of the Ever After her head pounds from the deafening silence and blackness. 

Just when she’s sure she’s going to suffocate, the pressure releases. Light and sound come rushing back. And Ruby falls in a shaking heap in a dune of sand.

For a split second she’s horrified. Her stretched thin hope takes another blow as her exhausted mind is convinced that she’s back on the beach. They’re never going to make it out of here.

At least Jaune won’t be alone.

Ruby coughs out a lungful of sand and the spell is broken. Precious oxygen fills her brain with thoughts. The sand isn’t gold enough, the sky isn’t blue enough. There is only one sun shining down and that gods damned tree is nowhere in sight.

Just the forever rolling dunes of the Vacuo desert.

She smiles weakly. “We made it…”

And her head thuds into the ground as her second interdimensional travel in so many days takes its toll.

“Holy shit, Ruby!” A familiar and welcome voice reaches her, bubblegum pink. The sound of shifting sand accompanies rapid footsteps. “Ren, get over here! I found Ruby!!” 

She should respond, probably. “Mmmphhh.” Yes, great job, Ruby. Perfectly articulate.

“Nonono shhh shh,” Nora coos, Ruby’s brain catching up enough to identify the voice. “You don’t need to talk, I’ve gotcha.” Her body is rolled over, her head cradled in Nora’s lap. 

Ruby’s eyes crack open, and the blur of orange above her eventually resolves into Nora’s smiling, exhausted face. “Heyyyy... You’re fine, you’re safe.” The sky behind her is dark, the familiar shattered moon creating a halo of glow through her friend’s orange hair. Nora turns to holler over her shoulder.  “REN!!!” 

“What?” Ren’s distant voice sounds from over a dune.

“Get your ass over here!!”

“I’m helping Sun with Yang!”

Ruby’s eyes fly open, though she isn’t exactly sure when they closed. Where the heck is the rest of her team? “Yang?” she slurs adrenaline fighting dizziness as she attempts to struggle upright. “Where’s-”

“She’s fine, so’s Weiss and Blake,” Nora reassures her. “Here lemme just-” One arm slides under Ruby’s legs and the other nestles her head against Nora’s shoulder. “Don’t want you hurting yourself,” Nora explains as she lifts Ruby and begins trotting off towards Ren’s voice.

It feels like a lifetime ago that Nora was the one being carried, but it can’t have been more than a few days. Gods, how much time has passed for team ALPN while RWBY has been trapped in the Ever After?

Nora explains about Sun finding Blake first when he was on patrol. Neptune found Weiss while his partner was calling for assistance. “We got here just as they started digging Yang out of the sand,” Nora says. She sounds exhausted, and now just because she’s carrying Ruby. “I found you, and here we are.”

“They’re okay?” Ruby asks, thankful for the strength returning to her voice.

“Yeah, they’re all fine. Yang’s still half buried, but she keeps asking about Blake so we’re taking that as a good sign.” Nora snorts. “You should see Weiss. Covered in sand.” Ruby watches as her smile fades away. “I just sort of hoped that if you guys were back then maybe-”

“Oof!” Nora’s words are cut off as Ruby’s vision fills with fluffy brown hair and Oscar Pine envelops them both in an awkward yet crushing hug.

“We thought you all died,” he sobs into her shoulder. Ruby distantly realizes she’s shaking. Huh. That’s new.

“Ruby.” Ren jogs up to them as Oscar finally releases them. “Thank gods.”

Behind him, Sun and Blake are digging Yang out of a dune, and Weiss is wrapped in Winter’s arms. Ruby’s heart feels tight at the sight, and yet lighter than it’s been in recent memory. Ren helps her down from Nora’s arms. Her legs are shaky as a newborn calf, but she’s standing. Nora and Oscar keep an arm around her shoulders to keep her upright.

Or maybe to keep her from vanishing again. 

Ren’s smile is warm and more genuine than she’d seen since before Atlas. “It’s… I’m glad you’re back.” His voice is thick with unshed tears as he wraps her in a hug.

 “I’m glad to be back.” And it’s sort of shocking when she realizes that… she is happy to be back. “Sorry for worrying you guys.” Ren pulls away and holds her at arm’s length. His eyes flick over her, focusing on something she can’t see and Ruby shifts awkwardly. “What’s uh… what’s up?”

“He’s not here, is he?” Ren says it quietly, almost whispers, and Ruby jolts.

“It has to be me, you’re all the ones who matter.”

“What?! That’s bullshit, Jaune, what about your team?!”

“They don’t need me, not anymore. Or at least not as much as Remnant needs you guys.”

“You can’t believe-”

“You’re okay with just staying here alone?!”

“Of course not. But I’ve been here the longest and… I’ll be fine.”

“Your family, you can’t-”

“You guys are my family, too! Guys please don’t make this harder than it already is-”

“No! We’ll figure out another way, we just need-”

"There isn’t another way! Please just… tell Ren and Nora I love them. And Oscar too. And tell them I’m sorry.”

“Jaune…”

“It’s what she would do.” His voice is thick with tears. He's shaking, and for a moment Ruby realizes that Jaune doesn't want this any more than they do. There just isn't another choice to make.

He’s looking at Ruby through the door. His hand is on Pyrrha’s sash and he’s smiling even as tears run down his cheeks. “Bye guys.” 

And the door closes.

Ruby sucks in a gasp and stumbles back. Oscar catches her, already blurting worried assurances, but Nora looks sharply from Ren to Ruby, all her happy-go-lucky masks gone in the face of her partner’s soul-searching truth.

Distantly Ruby realizes that the sounds of digging have halted and the occupants of the sandy valley are all watching their exchange.  “No. No that’s not true,” Nora insists. “That’s impossible!” But Ren’s expression is stony, and Ruby’s eyes are welling with tears. 

Nora’s grip slackens on Ruby and she falls to the ground. Her fists pound the sand, and she screams until her lungs have no breath, until the air is filled with sobs. Ren is a statue, and she doesn’t have to have his Semblance to see the emotions whirling in a tornado within him. Oscar’s teary expression is distant in that way it always is when he’s talking to Ozpin. Eventually his face tightens and he sinks slowly to the ground, his face in his hands.

“Jaune wanted…” Ruby swallows thickly, tears threatening to steal her words. Somehow her eyes find Yang's, she can't look at the remaining members of ALPN. But this was the last thing her best friend ever asked of her, so she has to try. “He wanted me to say he loves you guys… more than anything.”

“And he’s sorry.”

[chilling-seavey]

I just finished reading Blue Moon Hotel, and my god was that devastating. I’ve asked before about Confessional and you said it was chill to talk and ask about your writing, so I figured I would pop in😀

Maybe I’m delusional, but I feel like he actually had feelings for her, like I said maybe I’m a bit delulu but he obviously doesn’t love his gf (like maybe he loves her but is falling out of love? I mean he did respond immediately with an I love her, but did he convince himself?) if he’s carrying out an affair for months, that’s also just my take with cheating in general 🙈 I’m not sure what the reader does or anything, but I wonder if his gf is famous in some capacity where the reader isn’t in that world with fame. Like maybe she’s a high ranking person at a company but not like famous/influencer type, so he viewed the gf as a more realistic choice for that aspect and for his career. Like I wonder since a few of the guys knew, they maybe commented on his attachment and he realized he was in too deep. I know this all completely hinges on my thought that he had feelings for her and if he didn’t this is all irrelevant 🙈

The reader crying in bed alone at the end was beyond heartbreaking, like my god. The pregnancy twist!! My god, it made it just that more devastating. I also like how the reader didn’t try to convince him via being pregnant and didn’t want a love that was forced because of circumstances.

Hear me out, the first part is potentially based on my inner hope, and I mean he wanted her to feel like he was hers for the night, I mean…👀 and he knew she had feelings for him and kept it going👀 I’m just saying. I digress, in my mind I can see his relationship maybe a year later failing, because he deep down still likes the reader and despite trying to keep tabs, he can’t find anything on social media anywhere and she kinda went off the grid. Then maybe a few months after him and the gf break up he tries to find the reader again, but she doesn’t tell him about their child until she knows he genuinely likes her, not for having his child.

I know it’s an open ending, but I was curious about how you kinda pictured them down the line together or apart and whether or not I’m super delulu with this🙈 Also, amazing writing as ever!! 😀😀

ANON!!!!!!! I adore you, what the heck!? Thank you so much for this!! Opening tumblr to see such a thoughtful and lengthy ask literally made my month, holy shit. I love love love hearing people's thoughts on my writing and how they interpret it and see it going past the point of the writing ending. I am sending you a million love hearts through the screen omgomg.

Honestly, to answer your question about how I, myself, pictured it, is basically word for word how you pictured it, I'm not going to lie!

Your take on George is 100% my vision of him too! Reader not being 'famous' is definitely what helps them to be able to get away with this sneaking around over the months. Perhaps that's what George likes — that feeling of 'being normal' — but his career has bred him with a one track mind so he associates the gf with being what he needs. I think he's definitely got deeper feelings for the reader than even he's willing to process! The thoughtfulness behind taking off his bracelet, asking her to call him by his name for this night...maybe things he didn't think much of but hold such a deeper meaning. AND "and he knew she had feelings for him and kept it going👀" MHM. YEPPPP—

"I also like how the reader didn’t try to convince him via being pregnant and didn’t want a love that was forced because of circumstances." is EXACTLY it!!! When I wrote it I didn't put in depth words behind that choice of reader not telling him but you summarized it perfectly here. That's exactly it. Exactly exactly exactly I can't say exactly enough!!

For the future, I always thought they'd somehow reconnect after some time where he could actually figure out for himself what he wants! I love how you said "but she doesn’t tell him about their child until she knows he genuinely likes her, not for having his child". I didn't think that detailed about the future of these characters since I knew I wouldn't be writing a part two but I love your thought behind this! Omg and can you imagine his face when the existence of the child is finally revealed to him?? 😳🤭

Anyway, yeah, you and me are like this 🤞 anon!! We share a brain or something, for reallll.

I would love for you to stick around and chat more! You're always more than welcome here [especially when you give me a generous excuse to ramble about my own writing haha] 🤍🤍

[gwenbrightly]

(Re) Building the Future Chapter 4

Her entire body hurts, but at the same time she's floating. Weightless. Everything feels so far away. So muted. Her mouth feels cottony and there's a nasty aftertaste of rotten lavender mixed with lemon, along with a slight metallic tang. She feels like puking. Is this what dying feels like?

Dying. Cassie has never really thought that much about death before. Not even when her mom died. Though that was probably because she was too little to really understand things, back then.

But holy heck. The pain is intense. She hurts in places she didn't even know existed. On a pain scale of paper cut to mauled by a bear, she's giving this experience a solid 12/10.

If Cassie is dying, this is probably a good time to regret not leaving a note for anyone to find. Her dad won't know where to look for her. He'll be so worried when he gets back from his trip. So heartbroken when she never comes home. There'll be no more hugs. No more cheesy horror movie nights where they pick apart the horrible special effects and cringy writing. No more Cassie.

Oh, well. At least when she's done dying the pain will stop. Hopefully. Her… Her… Those human spaghetti thingies that allow you to feel pain? … Oh, right. Nerves. That's what they're called. Her nerves are on fire.

She longingly waits to be swept into the sweet oblivion of death, but her body seems to be taking its sweet time with that whole thing. After what feels like hours of agonized waiting, Cassie slowly cracks open one eye, then the other, blinking back tears from the painful blurriness of doing so. Maybe she's already dead and she needs to see heaven in order to accept reality? But no. Unless heaven looks like the inside of the Pizzaplex's Daycare, Cassie hasn't died (yet). Not that being in the daycare makes a lot of sense when the last thing she remembers is falling deep, deep below the sinkhole in Roxy Raceway. So maybe she's hallucinating to make herself feel better about being on the edge of death. Or something.

"Oh, good. I think she's waking up," Cassie hears a voice say. There's more, but she can't quite focus on any of it. Everything is still so foggy. She squints up at the source of the voice, trying to identify it. Milky white eyes come into focus. Cassie screams as everything goes black again.

"Get away from me, you monster!"

—-----

"Vanessaaaa!" Gregory calls, banging loudly on her bedroom door. Cassie has disappeared into the sinkhole and he and Freddy could really use some backup. When Vanessa doesn't immediately reply, he rattles it again and threatens to find his lockpicking kit.

"We've been over this before," an indignant Vanessa finally calls from the other side of the door, "You don't disturb me during Me Time and I don't judge your ability to turn video games into a contact sport or question your choices when you impersonate famous Metubers online."

"I knowwww, but this is an emergency!" Gregory insists, choosing to ignore the comments about his semi-legal internet habits.

"The last time you said that, you and Freddy had nearly succeeded in setting fire to our microwave," Vanessa points out. She sounds tired. Her latest therapy session must have been draining.

"We just wanted to see how many grapes we could explode at once," Gregory mumbles,"but forget about that for now. This is a way bigger emergency than that!"

Vanessa finally cracks her door open. She makes that 'I don't believe a word you're saying' face she's gotten so good at lately. The one with only one eyebrow raised - how does she do that, anyway?

"Uh huh," she says in a tone that matches her facial expression perfectly. How can he get her to listen?

Deciding there's no time to lose arguing with her, Gregory grabs Vanessa's arms and starts to drag her down the hallway as he frantically tries to explain the last few hours of Cassie getting herself into a buttload of trouble.

"Gregory, what the heck?" Vanessa starts to protest, but Gregory keeps bulldozing through his story.

"I… um… Might have hacked into the Pizzaplex's security program awhile back… And today while me and Freddy were playing Fazcraft, I got an alert. And when we checked the feed, somebody - a friend of mine - had gotten into the Pizzaplex and someone who sounded like me - butwasn'tmeIswear!"

"Okay, you need to slow down and breath. I can barely understand you," Vanessa cuts in, worried now. She plants her feet to prevent Gregory from dragging her any further. He tugs on her to no avail. Vanessa isn't going anywhere.

Gregory reluctantly gasps in a fresh breath of air.

"My friend is at the Pizzaplex and somebody talked her into deactivating the security nodes," he says more clearly, "Got it?"

Vanessa nods.

"Whoever it was - maybe that… Thing below the pizza? Which would be really bad if it was that." Gregory and Vanessa share a knowing look, "Got her to deactivate all the security nodes and now she's down under the sinkhole! Freddy and I tried to stop her but we couldn't and now she's all alone down there and we have to help her NOW!"

Vanessa says something that would normally prompt Gregory to demand she added a significant amount of money to their swear jar. He, however, decides that the situation will probably call for a great deal of swearing before all is said and done. Who is he to stand in the way of progress?

“So, uh,” Vanessa begins after a moment of awkward silence, “Now that I've had a chance to process all of… that… Have you ever wanted to hack into Freddy's restricted files?”

“Have I ever,” Gregory replies, stepping into the living room where Freddy is staring hopelessly at the monitor. “But how is that gonna help Cassie? It's not like hacking Freddy will turn him into some epic ninja bot or anything.”

Vanessa draws up a chair next to Gregory and Freddy.

“All of the animatronics are programmed with maps of all areas within the pizzplex grounds, from the VIP areas to the parking lot. Including the restricted ones, the ones no one is supposed to know about.”

“Why don't I have any knowledge of this?” Freddy questions. Vanessa looks uncomfortable for a moment.

“Let's just say the map program for these areas is only triggered once you hit a certain point. It's designed to make you forget the exact details once you've returned to the main pizzplex. For… Security purposes.”

“I… See.”

“Erm. Anyway, I was thinking we could use the maps to find your friend and get her out of there before something bad happens,” Vanessa explains.

“Okay if we poke around in your head a bit?” Gregory asks Freddy. Using the maps seems like their best shot. If they can get through to Cassie, that is.

“I suppose so. Just be careful not to cross too many wires or send me into cowboy mode again,” the bear relents. It's not like he has a choice, really. But he does so hate it when people mess with his programming.

“Freddy! Now is so not the time!” Gregory isn't proud of some of the places his curiosity has taken him. Vanessa clears her throat, interrupting their rabbit trail of distraction before it can continue.

“Focus, you two. Now, once we get access to Freddy's maps, we'll need a way to contact Cassie. Any ideas?”

The trio is silent for a time. Hacking deactivated bots didn't seem to be working earlier. There are no intercoms in the sinkhole. Only…

“Wait! I got it,”Gregory jumps up, “Cassie had one of those Fazbear Entertainment walkie talkies with her. I think I still have one in my room. We just need to find the right frequency!”

“You go get that while I get Freddy hooked up,” Vanessa instructs. With the speed at which he takes off, she is suddenly reminded why it was so difficult to catch Gregory at the pizzplex.

It doesn't take Gregory long to dig through the box of ‘spy equipment’ located at the back of his closet. He retrieves the walkie talkie and whacks it a few times to ensure that the (finicky) batteries are jammed in all the way. Satisfied with his work, he returns to the others. The first channel they try manages to get a response from the twins a few houses down, who are playing capture the flag. The second channel somehow connects them with all the police car radios within a 50 mile radius? Fazbear Entertainment probably needs to do something about that. Not that they care enough to do so. It would be a fascinating development for Gregory if there weren't more pressing matters. (He'll have to revisit this later).

The third channel is static. So much static. They're about to move on to channel number 4 when someone on the other end asks, “Gregory? Is that really you? I mean REALLY you?”

Cassie. She's not dead! (yet)

No one is surprised by her question. She's clearly had a run in with It. Gregory does his best to explain while the others jump into action. They move quickly, overriding the programming that usually blocks Freddy's maps as Cassie races through tunnel after tunnel. Vanessa and Freddy relay as many details as they can to Gregory, who practically shouts into the walkie talkie. Occasionally, they can hear It running in the distance, trying to catch up to Cassie. Thunk! Crash!

“Go right! Go right!”

“OK. Tell her there should be an elevator just up ahead,” Vanessa finally announces after what feels like hours of navigation.

“Almost there!” Gregory tells Cassie. She's so close to being safe. So close. They hear the elevator doors grind open and the sound of Cassie stepping inside.

“We did it!” Gregory screams, relieved. He hugs Freddie (who doesn't seem to mind) and Vanessa (who is more than a little surprised). Figuring Cassie probably needs a little more context for whatever horrors she's just experienced, Gregory begins to tell her what little he knows about It. But then… He hears another voice on the walkie talkie. A voice that sounds exactly like him. And a sinking feeling fills his very soul. It has something truly awful planned for Cassie. Gregory just knows it.

It's in this moment that Gregory truly learns what it means to be powerless. Never in his life has he been so totally unable to do anything to affect his circumstances. There's always an option. Running away, biting someone, simply using Google. Even when he himself was at the Pizzaplex, there was always something he could do to save himself. But this time… No matter what he does… No matter how many buttons he mashes trying to take charge of the elevator's controls… There is nothing he can do to stop the elevator's plummet into parts unknown as he listens to Cassie's screams.

[katyleen]

Lectro x Reader

I don’t know much about him so he might be ooc. But then again I don’t see much informations about him and no stories about him…so why not? :)

The character (Lectro [MuzixLectro]) belongs to xTeNpiYeX and I am simping for the guy even though he hasn’t been released into a mod yet-

Again I don’t know how to write a good story and doing this just for fun so this won’t be as good as the other stories you might have read (not proofread and english is not my first language)

——————————————————————————

Lectro was ordered to watch over the Portal Devices by Ezra while the rest are on a mission. He was bored as heck as he has nothing to do but to sit around. Suddenly, an idea popped into his mind as he smirked to himself and made his way to the portal. He thought about where to go before deciding to go to a world called Friday Night Funkin. He activated the portal and went through it.

As he stepped outside the portal, he looked around his surroundings with interest.

‘Hmm..so this is how the FNF world looks like..’

He planned to walk around for a little bit, really he did, but something or more specifically someone made him changed his mind. A girl, who was laughing with her friends walked past him, not noticing him. He was awestruck as he kept looking at the girl until she can’t be seen anymore.

‘Who was that? Why did I feel something towards her? Is this normal?’ He decided to shake his thoughts away, thinking it was just because this is the first time he came to the world and was just curious about everyone here. He then sees a poster not far from him, about a place where everyone can come to rap battle with each other. Feeling like he can have some fun there, he made his way towards the place (with the help of asking strangers along the way).

He finally arrived at the place. He went inside and there’s a lot of people there. He can see many interesting looking people there, like a small dude with blue hair and probably with his girlfriend, a bomb guy, some little guy with a gun..wait what-

“And next we will have Boyfriend vs Y/n!”

Lectro looks at the stage after the announcement as the blue haired dude who’s name is Boyfriend comes on stage and he can also see…the girl he was looking at!

Lectro was suprised when he saw her, he didn’t expect to meet her again. He even removed his glasses to make sure he isn’t seeing things. She was smiling as she waves at the crowd and grabbed the mic. She glances at the crowd again and her eyes meet Lectro’s, startling him, making him put on his glasses with haste and pretended to look like he was looking at something else (not his proudest moment). She stares at him for a while before she turned her head to her opponent. She picked a song and they immediately start rapping. Once again Lectro was star-struck, she has a good voice and she’s pretty (gorgeous) good at rapping. They went on for a while and finally their rounds ended, with Boyfriend as the winner. She didn’t look upset though, she congratulated him and promised to do better next time. Boyfriend answered with a beeb which means “looking foward to it”.

Lectro didn’t see her for a while but decided not to dwell on it too much. After all, the reason he was there in the first place was to have fun, not to look for a random girl that he happens to take interest in. After a few matches he finally felt like it’s time to return to his world and made his way towards the exit. When he opened the door, he was suprised to see the girl from earlier there. She was typing something on her phone and turned it off after she’s done. She sighed and looked up, eyes widening a little at the sight of the guy she was staring earlier.

‘Holy crap it’s him. The one that made eye contact with me. What should I do?’

Meanwhile Lectro was also panicking on the inside. Should he say something? Should he just leave without a word? He couldn’t think straight and just blurted, “You did really well earlier.”

They stared at each other silently as he panicked even more on the inside. ‘WHY DID I SAY THAT? SHE’S GONNA THINK I’M WEIRD FOR SUDDENLY COMPLEMENTING HER WHEN WE DON’T EVEN KNOW EACH OTHER.’ She looks at him suprised but managed to calm herself down as she chuckles a bit. “Thanks. I don’t really think it was that good but at least there’s someone enjoying it.”

“Are you kidding me? You did amazing, that beat you did in the middle of the song was so sick and not to mention you can keep up with him was cool.” He said without thinking, not that it matters since that is the truth. She blushed at the sudden compliment and pretended to cough.

“Aah thank you…may I ask what your name is?” He blinks at her. She wants to know his name? “I’m Lectro. And you’re Y/n…right?” She nodded her head as she smiled at him. “Nice to meet you Lectro. I hope we can meet up again like this in the future. This may sounds weird because we just met and all but..do you mind if we get each other’s numbers?” She wanted to know his name AND his number? How can he say no to that? “Sure. I don’t mind at all.” They exchanged numbers and finally Y/n had to go. They said their goodbyes as they went to their own destination.

He finally came back to his world and was relieved when he saw no signs of Ezra and the others coming back yet. He sits back on his chair as he takes off his glasses, revealing a blush on his face with a dorky smile. He looks at his phone where Y/n’s number is shown in his screen. He smiled fondly, thinking that being left behind to watch the portal devices isn’t going to be so bad if it means he can visit the FNF world again to meet up with her. In fact, he is looking foward to it.

[13docwriting]

So I'll start with the fact that I am, indeed, a fan of Chibnall's era. I am an even bigger fan of the 13th Doctor. I'll also start with the fact that I quite literally grew up with RTD's writing and loved Ten with all my heart. But now I am an adult and some of RTD's writing has left me a bit scared. Here's my "live streaming" review on The Star Beast. SPOILERS BELOW!

I'm going in order of how I processed things, so it's gonna be chaotic. My first essay is this: You know why this post is so long? It's because we're not livestreaming things anymore. I'm not immediately with other fans in real time, typing out our little posts. I'm quite literally doing this at my leisure. I'll miss watching DW live. Now then, in order! 1. The music? Ten out of ten. I have always loved Gold's compositions and he did not let us down. And this opinion is only being generated from the new(er) theme song. Which leads me to...

2. Look at the B U D G E T. Even the opening credits has a budget that you can just FEEL. Those stars/galaxies? Very nice... And then I have to chuckle over the low level lighting / 2000s era effects of David Tennant's full profile voiceover of Donna and his story.

3. Him taking the boxes, seeing Donna's face, and slowly putting the boxes back is an RTD special and I LOVE that kind of comedy. It just makes me chuckle. And then him having a full blown panic over hearing Donna shout "Rose!" which... 4. Having these little call back moments feels rather bitter since we're calling this a reboot of the show. UNLESS the reboot is when Nucti starts up? But the fact that I'm confused just shows how bitter I should be. Again, my Chibnall love is showing. I don't believe in yet another reboot for DW, but that's a marketing thing over anything else... I hope. 5. I'm glad the 2000s Rose/Doctor shipping era lives strong through the name Rose. I know those fans are going to be happy and they deserve it. 6. NOW... Donna having a family. Okay. I'll have a separate post but... Does anyone else think that Donna having a husband just doesn't fit for her? Especially with her memories erased? Idk, I just never envisioned Donna getting married after the whole Lance thing. BUT I'm glad she's happy and the husband seems so nice. 7. Donna giving up that lottery money? Also strange considering she lost her memories. The first time we meet Donna we get this feeling that she's a bit shallow, which makes sense because she has to develop as a character. That was her character development so here KEEPING the money would have made more sense here. Which...

8. Rose. That's all. She's great!

9. Hey, can't help but notice, but when did the 14th Doctor have time to make a new screwdriver, huh? What gives? AND - AND there's not a single hint of 13's sonic on there. HMM. What the heck!

10. FORGOT SOMETHING. Whatever the line was "that says mistress" "Oh, catch up, will you?" I don't know how to take in this scene quite yet, but it's making me pause. It felt... Off kilter. Maybe cause I love 13 so much, I don't know. There's always callbacks to other faces when the Doctor first regenerations, but this felt... Wrong? Also, TEE HEE my mind went to Missy IMMEDIATELY and I love that little connection my fic writing brain is going wild.

11. WHY DOES UNIT HAVE SO MUCH MONEY???? Look at this uniforms, holy cow! I almost don't like it? Like, they're an underground agency. WE JUST SAW THEM GET DESTROYED BY CYBERMEN IN THE POWER OF THE DOCTOR. Are we just ignore that entire episode or...?

12. Donna not being able to keep a job? Yeah, THAT one I believe haha.

13. "I will burn down the world for you, darling" says Donna Noble to her transgender kid. WHICH IS AMAZING, WHICH MADE ME SMILE SO WIDE I WAS HAVING A PARTY IN MY BRAIN. There's my Donna! 14. "Gramps used to talk about flying saucers" oh god my heart. I teared up a little, not going to lie. Wilf, I think about you every single day. You made the Doctor the person he is today.

15. MEEP IS SO CUTE. OH WOW. I know "evil" is coming but SO CUTE RIGHT NOW.

16. To go from some excellent animatronics from the Meep to whatever those alien, fly things are was HILARIOUS. What, we'd run out of money for those costume's? Were they meant to look like a typical RTD alien back in the 2000s? How does that work?

17. WHAT THE ACTUAL FLYING FUCK WAS THE SONIC DOING. Wait, did Disney give the sonic some magical powers? Why are we suddenly writing in the air? How are we getting readouts of the ship from the sonic like that? Could it do that before? Why would we not do that before? I'm dying that's so funny.

18. Shirley seems cool!!! I hope we get more of her! And I love the nod to PROPER representation. Chibs did a good job of that as well. Edit: REAL representation! Good on RTD. The scene with the stairs and she says "don't make me the problem"... I am not a wheelchair user but I do hope that was properly done. 19. "I absolutely love her [Donna]" LOOK AT 14 HAVING FEELINGS! Aww, I hope 15 follows through with the feelings! 11, 12, and 13 have been so locked up, so scared to love... Having a Doctor that's ready to loudly embrace their love for things would be such a good character development. (My fear would be RTD ripping that away in the most tragic way possible, but that's a future problem I suppose).

20. I'm at the scene where Rose is talking to the Meep in the shed, and just, again, THE MUSIC. We did have some good musical moments in 13's era but, even I have to admit, nothing as pretty as this. It really is something, round of applause once again.

21. LISTEN. L I S T E N. I don't condone slapping the Doctor. I don't. In fact, it's wrong. It's very wrong. And you can't slap 13, can you? So slapping 14 shouldn't make sense. It's the definition of sexist. It's just not something you should do. BUT. B U T. Jackie's "stitch this, mate" is always in my head and now THIS "here we go again" after Sylvia gives the Doctor a good slap... I laughed, okay? It was funny! But really, in the good year of 2023, there shouldn't be comedy like that. That joke should have died. BUT I LAUGHED. So I'm to blame as well.

22. "Never mind about the ferret from mars." I LOVE the mars callback from Donna, thank you very much.

23. Kate looking after Wilf damn near brought tears to my eyes. Kate, you are the real hero of the DW universe. Thank you.

24. This is... This is gonna be another post. But. Okay. So. The whole "you're assuming he as a pronoun". Right. Okay. I know groups of people that talk like that. Both online and in person. Personal life spoiler, I work(ed) in musical theater. I've seen it all. I, personally, do not like this whole... "Let's be really obvious about it" thing. And also highly believe in someone else first telling me, when it fits, what their pronouns are. Having someone pull the defensive "YOU ASSUMED" crap doesn't work because humans don't think like that. It's a whole other rant, but yeah. This felt forced and I hate when shows do that. Representation is important but FORCING that representation doesn't help.

25. what's the. what's the sonic doing. what. how'd it. we got lines in the air. we got unbelievable shield. we. he waved it like a wand and now. what the. how'd. (Yo, not me head cannoning that this is 13 banging around in 14's head demanding that they have a better way to protect their friends. Love it). I WILL HAVE A LOT MORE THOUGHTS ON THIS.

26. DW has money now. That will continue to blow my mind.

27. "This is a sonic screwdriver and if it's good at one thing, it's resonating concrete". Oh yeah, Doctor? I'd like to bring forth you, never once, being able to do it. Not once! (And now it's good at creating magical shields and complex, alien holograms, but that's point #25)

28. Where'd in hell's name did he get that wig and how soon can Donna throw it out a window?

29. MEEP YOU - YOU UTTER AHOLE. Man, it was SO CUTE

30. O k a y. I take back, holy crap what point am I on? I take back point #7. So there's some of the Doctor left in her, eh? That's why! I dig that. I really, really dig that. Sorry for being a downer, that was my mistake.

31. I too can come up with technobabble bullcrap that means nothing. I sometimes think that's RTD's biggest failing, his incessant need to over describe things. EDIT. JEEZ, a good five minutes later as we're STILL talking gibberish.

32. Hey, I see you "glass wall between Donna and the Doctor" and raise you "glass wall between Wilf and the Doctor". OW. I demand emotional compensation!

33. Listen, I just got over 13 keeping every. single. emotion inside of her. She never raised her voice, she never really cried, she never had a chance to just scream and yell and be angry at the universe. The fact that there's 14 RIGHT HERE, screaming, because to save Donna, he has to lose her YET AGAIN. Just angry and devastated and grieving... It's a stunning scene, it's a scene that makes sense, but my 13 loving little heart says that this is 13's moment to be angry and it was taken from her.

34. Also, ha, I know Disney bought DW, but did we just "Winter Soldier" Donna Noble. We gave her trigger words to keep her memories at bay? Really?

35. "Hold on a minute," said in Ten's/Fourteenth's voice... Was that.. Was that ELVEN'S theme music while Donna was being, well, Time Lady Donna? Because that was... That was GOLDEN. How amazing is that? What a great idea!

36. You MONSTER, RTD, making Fourteen hold Donna the same way he held the Master? What the hell is that about?

37. The.. The nonbinary, but binary. I... It's... Something! Okay, I'll get there. I'll have a post about it. Maybe. But. Yeah, it's something!

38. DOES UNIT HAVE AVENGERS *cough* sorry it's been a while for Marvel me *cough* STARK TOWER. WAS THAT STARK TOWER? Damn, Disney, you really did bring us back to superwholock Avenger's "Clint in the vents" era, huh?

39. "It's a shame you're not a woman anymore, because she would have understood... Something a male presenting Time Lord will never understand." You can't... You can't do the whole "nonbinary" thing and that just immediately point out gender like that. What. The defeats the entire purpose. The whole point you're trying to make is that gender DOESN'T matter, and yet... And the Doctor has always, always been nonbinary. I refer to the Doctor as "they" when speaking as a collective whole, and many of us have done that. I use pronouns when talking about specific Doctors because humans have always used pronouns. Again, 11 and 13 have made mention that gender has NEVER mattered to them. I just... You can't be poking a bear and then expecting the bear to not to come after you if you've changed the poking object from a stick to a teaser.

40. I gotta laugh that Rose and Donna had the most peaceful "regeneration" we've ever seen. Somewhere in there, a Doctor or two is screaming lol.

41. Oh... The TARDIS is ugly. DON'T HIT ME. STOP HITTING ME. I MEAN It. Not, for real though, Oh my god, what. Why. The colors. Or lack of colors, really. What the fuck. Where's the... Where's the personality? Where's the sass? I've loved every single TARDIS change but THIS... This is a hard one to swallow.

42. The TARDIS having an shit fit over Donna spilling coffee on her is WONDERFUL. That's so funny to me. With everything she's been through with 13, that was just the best way for her to get her revenge! All in all, strange episode, yeah? I mean, what WAS that plot? It was really more of setup for the next episode, and double really meant to reunite ten and Donna, which was well done, but also... Why? It just felt a bit all over the place but very much cushioned by nostalgia. I'm done now. My fingers HURT. As always, and as I say in all my fics, I'm here if you want to chat. Reblog this, PM me, tag me in stuff!

[giggly-squiggily]

Omg omg dabble idea bc I’m obsessed with this headcanon.

I think Chifuyu gets psychosomatic illness when he’s even the slightest bit stressed. The symptoms get worse the more pressured he feels.

After even one sneeze, Mitsuya is eyeballing him the whole time, because he knows despite Chifuyu never telling anyone.

I can just imagine Mitsuya getting pissed off in Chifuyu’s place when he sees the little guy so sick he can barely stand. 🙌🙌

Holy- I'm learning so many new words today! :D This is absolutely amazing and I love you for sharing this with me- I've gotcha covered, Ducky! :D

CW: Sickness, Swearing

“Chifuyu, what the hell?”

It started out as a sneeze. Just a simple little “Achoo!”- nothing anyone in Toman put much thought into. Heck, not even Chifuyu thought much of it- must be seasonal allergies.

Definitely not because Midterms, a big Toman meeting, Peke-J’s vet appointment, and Baji’s birthday were all falling in the same week. Nope, definitely not any of that.

Chifuyu was convinced he had this. What was a little stress? He’s been through worse. And yet- soon the symptoms were getting worse. Sneezes turned into congestion, coughs grew more hoarse and hard to hide. Eventually he was waking up in the wee hours in the morning nauseated.

Still- he pushed on. He had this! He just needed to get through the upcoming week and he’d be fine. Once it was over, he’d be his usual self again.

For the most part- Toman believed him.

Except for Mitsuya.

That man saw everything.

Currently the pair were in Chifuyu’s room, the mentioned boy far too sick to even sit up on his own. His body felt like one huge furnace, and he wanted to both rip off all the sheets binding him to his bed and climb into a freezer. He barely heard Mitsuya come in- just heard his disappointed exclamation. “I’m fine..I just-” A hoarse cough exploded from his chest as he doubled over, hands rubbing his back to help him through it. When he looked up, he found Mitsuya glaring at him.

And in his hand, a glass of water.

“Dumbass. I can’t believe you’d let yourself get this sick! Here you are practically dying on us and you’re too stubborn to say anything!” Mitsuya’s back was turned as he dug through the convenience store bag, pulling out cough medicine. “Honestly- it’s bad enough Draken and Mikey only JUST sorted out their bullshit, and now this? What are we to do with you-”

The sound of sniffling made him pause. When he turned around, he found Chifuyu’s head bowed, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Oh Chi..”

“I’m not-” The blonde sniffed, reaching up to wipe his face. “I’m not cr-rying!” He ducked down, shamed at how weak he looked before Mitsuya of all people. “Ju-Just..give me a se-econd.”

Mitsuya didn’t say anything, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. A moment later, he reached out, resting a hand on the younger boy’s head. “So stubborn, even now.” He sounded fond, almost like he was smiling. “Tell me what’s going on. I can help, you know.” He reached over and snatched up the planner laying by, poking through it as Chifuyu wiped his face. “Ah, okay. Easy enough. Look- I’ll take care of Peke-J for you; I’m free that afternoon. Baji’s birthday- Toman’s gonna do something; we’ve got that planned out. You just focus on getting better and knocking out finals, kay?” He reached out, ruffling the other’s hair.

“....Okay.” He sounded so young, like his sisters getting over a fit. Mitsuya almost hugged him right there like he’d do with them.

Instead, he cuffed his chin, smiling. “That’s my guy.”

Send me a headcanon and character(s) and I'll write a short 300-500 word dabble for it!

[slytherinshua]

HELLO!!!!

so ive been dead for a couple weeks (okay im sorry but school is kicking my ass)

BUTTTT IM BACK!!!!

And SO ARE YOU!!!

zanna pls the hao fic 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

idk whether to cry or kick my feet bc wTFFFF

how are you so g o o d (you obviously worked super hard and thats so cool of you)

ALSO

CINEMA PARADISE AND 19.99 CB!!!!!!

okay so i heard good so bad right? amazing song. 10/10 and thEn i watched the mcountdown kill the romeo performance and immediately went wHOA because why did that song hIT SO HARD LIKE?!?!??! Cinema paradise is such a ricky era (to me) bc his aura was off the roof he was so super noticable (even though he was worried bc of the hair dyeing :( he still stood out so much!) Also hao was so super good zb1 keeps getting better!!

OKAY NOW LISTEN

IM NOT THE BIGGEST ONEDOOR AROUND HERE OKAY BUT IVE LISTENED TO THEIR ENTIRE DISCOGRAPHY AND WATCHED ALL THEIR PERSONAL CONTENT AND CAN I JUST SAY DANGEROUS AND NICE GUY ARE SO GOOD LIKE BND NEVER MISSES WHAT THE HECK

Taesans line in dangerous had me actually pulling out my earphones bc wtf why was that so good i was h o o k e d the secomd that song started and then nice guy was just also really good like?!?!?!? H O W do you slay that hard like whoa

ANYWAY HI ZANNA I MISSED YOUUUUUU

im glad you're out of your mini slump!!! (i have so many ideas and i want to write but i have no t i m e!!! i dont like school 😐)

-🌱 (bc you said youd miss this <3)

im sorry i rambled on a bit but yeah !!!

HI HAFS OMG!!!! omg it has been a while but dw i understand :((( school is out to get us all istg im so tired and its only the beginning of the year... AND LIKE I THOUGHT I WAS GOING CRAZY W THAT WRITERS BLOCK HOLY SHIT LIKE I COULD NOT FUNCTION WITHOUT MY DELUSIONS BEING MY ESCAPE 😭😭😭😭😭😭

BUT AAAA IM GLAD U LIKED IT <333333 thank you ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ ugh i remember like before i even properly stanned zb1 i was thinking about which members would fit studio ghibli boys and let me see if i can remember all the pairings.... honestly i think these ranged from most accurate (first 4-5) to zanna is running out of ghibli boys to assign

zhang hao as seiji

i think i had taerae as tombo back then but now i feel like it fits gyuvin more :((

NOW RICKY AS HOWL CAUSE WHO ELSE WOULD HE BE

and yujin as sho!!! cause look theyre literally the same skdfjksd could 100% see yujin in an arrietty storyline to me hes just the embodiment of teen youth like coming of age stories rly fit him so well

gunwook as pazu bcuz i have to satisfy my childhood crush and my current crush (also they look the same fight me)

honestly jiwoong as jiro???

taerae as asbel now (literally i don't remember anything about asbel but they look kinda similar so we're going w it)

hanbin as ashitaka bcuz i just think theyre both hot like that 🤕🤕🤕

which leaves matthew as sosuke cause i haven't watched the boy and the heron yet so idk whether that might fit better but yeah... BUT TELL ME WHY THEY KINDA HAVE SIMILAR VIBES ANYWAY SO??

now can we also appreciate how i tried to match the pics as close as i could thank you thank you anyway enough abt zb1 and ghibli boys

YES CINEMA PARADISE WAS SO GOOD!!! good so bad literally their best title track to date AND SAME W BND. i think nice guy is their best to date and ive seen a lot of ppl who like dangerous more than nice guy which is valid i also love dangerous BUT IMO NICE GUY IS PERFECT AND BETTER THAN DANGEROUS???? 👹👹👹

ricky will always stand out no matter what !!!!! even tho his hair was plain it still drew attention to him like the contrast of black hair to his skin is crazy and he looks like a whole prince (when does he ever not) BUT OMG HAO IN THE MV WRECKED ME SOOOO HARD like i think good so bad mv is the reason why hao is #2 in zb1 ranking for me rn skdfjskdfs ALSO CAN WE TALK ABT PURPLE GUNWOOK CAUSE NO IM STILL NOT OVER PURPLE GUNWOOK even tho hes had it for a while now i still look at it and then die skdfjksdhfks

IF THERES ONE THING BONEDO WILL DO ITS RELEASE BANGERS EVERY TIME!!! i swear they always stay true to their sound and concept and i LOVE that about them. every song feels SO boynextdoor but at the same time they try different sounds and tell different stories with each song. i also just adore their storytelling in their mvs and songs its so good every time!!!! and im excited to see what they release next bcuz it seems theyre doing a youth concept now that theyre done their falling in love trilogy

awwww nooo i hope u find time soon 👹 it can be so hard to find time to write sometimes istg.... but you'll manage i believe in u !!! KSDJFKSD I DID MISS IT OMG