#hi!! tumblr has been refusing to tag you all day so i hope you see this

[alatenightwith]

‘‘ you've got an incredible head of hair, if you don't mind me saying. do you use some kind of special shampoo, or are you just genetically gifted? ’’

@depictedmorada & starter call !!

[juyeonszn]

BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT

THE TBZ FRAT HOUSE IS HOSTING THE BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT COLLAB BY @juyeonszn AND @itsbeeble!

YOU’RE INVITED!

PAIRING tbz x f!reader

GENRES smut ﹒fluff ﹒minimal angst ﹒crack

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! mature language, mentions of alcohol, sexual content, more warnings per individual fic!

SUMMARY have you ever wondered what your favorite frat boyz are up to in their personal lives? if so, then these fics are just for you! join us as we take a glimpse into the tau beta zeta fraternity and see what they get up to in their free time!

MORE LETS GAURRRRR i’m so excited to announce this collab with loml reese both as a cute fun little idea we had and in celebration of her 1 year tumblr anniversary! we also realized it happened to be the same day as tbz day LOL so that’s kinda crazy 😭 my boyz have been here for 6 years wow 💔 anyways i hope all of u love these as much as we do! and always, don’t forget to rb if u enjoyed!! send an ask if u’d like to be tagged in these <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies

FALL SEMESTER

TRY HARD — LEE JUYEON (12/6)

Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

EXCITEMENT — JI CHANGMIN (12/6)

You know, when you told your girl friends that you’d never finished before, you were expecting it to blow over like no big deal. What you weren’t expecting was for it to spiral into a whole other mess.

SEEING STARS — KIM SUNWOO (12/10)

It’s slightly embarrassing how Sunwoo is naive enough to take Eric Sohn’s “advice” to heart. Luckily, you like idiots. Especially when they kick a ball into your face and agree to do a semester’s worth of school work for you.

CLUMSY — JU HAKNYEON (12/10)

When Haknyeon ran into you at a TBZ party for the first time, he didn’t think he would fall for you so quickly. Or literally. Or both simultaneously. But there’s a first time for everything, he supposes.

“FRIENDLY” COMPETITION — LEE SANGYEON (12/14)

The TBZ frat had always had a rivalry with the KAT sorority. At least, they did when you and Sangyeon became the presidents three years ago. What happens when you mix a little friendly competition into this rivalry of yours?

JE NE SAIS QUOI — JACOB BAE (12/14)

Jacob thought the concept of fraternities was stupid. So stupid that despite every single one of his friends being in one, he still refused to join. However, after meeting you at one of the TBZ parties, he’s starting to think maybe they’re not that horrible.

SPRING SEMESTER

LET LOOSE — KIM YOUNGHOON (12/19)

Younghoon has hated you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

(NO) STRINGS ATTACHED — LEE HYUNJAE (12/19)

Becoming friends with Lee Hyunjae after his valiant attempt to save your life (stopping you from drunk driving) was certainly not on your year’s bingo card. Also not on your bingo card? Waking up in his bed every other night following, but it’s not like you’re really complaining.

NO BITCHES? — ERIC SOHN (12/22)

When you met Eric, you’d thought he was just another frat boy, looking to get into any woman’s pants (particularly yours at that moment). You never would’ve thought that he was just a loser who really liked FNAF and just thought you were pretty.

PARTY O’CLOCK — CHOI CHANHEE (12/22)

In spite of being a frat boy himself, Chanhee could never actually see himself enjoying the luxuries of the title. Besides, how could he with all the responsibilities of being treasurer? Enter you and your carefree spirit and Chanhee’s got a real big problem on his hands.

PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER — KEVIN MOON (PT. 1 1/1, PT. 2 1/3)

It wasn’t like you and Kevin hated each other. In fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. Well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.

© juyeonszn & itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[itsbeeble]

BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT

THE TBZ FRAT HOUSE IS HOSTING THE BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT COLLAB BY @juyeonszn AND @itsbeeble!

YOU'RE INVITED!

PAIRINGS: tbz x f!reader

GENRES: smut, fluff, minimal angst, crack

WARNINGS: smut, minor angst, fluff, mentions of injuries, alcohol, swearing, more warnings to be added to the individual fics 18+ MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

SUMMARY: Have you ever wondered what your favorite frat boyz are up to in their personal lives? If so, then these fics are just for you! Join us as we take a glimpse into the Tau Beta Zeta fraternity and see what they get up to in their free time!

MORE: The way me and Fawn have been planning this for so long omgggg. Me and Fawn are so excited to announce this collab in celebration of my 1 year on tumblr, 6 year anniversary of The Boyz, AND as just a fun little event!! I hope you guys are as excited for this as I am hehe. And please feel free to send an ask or comment on this post if you'd like to be tagged in each part!!

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

FALL SEMESTER

TRY HARD — LEE JUYEON (12/6)

Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

EXCITEMENT — JI CHANGMIN (12/6)

You know, when you told your girl friends that you’d never finished before, you were expecting it to blow over like no big deal. What you weren’t expecting was for it to spiral into a whole other mess.

SEEING STARS — KIM SUNWOO (12/10)

It’s slightly embarrassing how Sunwoo is naive enough to take Eric Sohn’s “advice” to heart. Luckily, you like idiots. Especially when they kick a ball into your face and agree to do a semester’s worth of schoolwork for you.

CLUMSY — JU HAKNYEON (12/10)

When Haknyeon ran into you at a TBZ party for the first time, he didn’t think he would fall for you so quickly. Or literally. Or both simultaneously. But there’s a first time for everything, he supposes.

"FRIENDLY" COMPETITION — LEE SANGYEON (12/14)

The TBZ frat had always had a rivalry with the KAT sorority. At least, they did when you and Sangyeon became the presidents three years ago. What happens when you mix a little friendly competition into this rivalry of yours?

JE NE SAIS QUOI — JACOB BAE (12/14)

Jacob thought the concept of fraternities was stupid. So stupid that despite every single one of his friends being in one, he still refused to join. However, after meeting you at one of the TBZ parties, he’s starting to think maybe they’re not that horrible.

SPRING SEMESTER

LET LOOSE — KIM YOUNGHOON (12/19)

Younghoon has hated you since the day he met you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

(NO) STRINGS ATTACHED — LEE HYUNJAE (12/19)

Becoming friends with Lee Hyunjae after his valiant attempt to save your life (stopping you from drunk driving) was certainly not on your year’s bingo card. Also not on your bingo card? Waking up in his bed every other night following, but it’s not like you’re really complaining.

NO BITCHES? — ERIC SOHN (12/22)

When you met Eric, you’d thought he was just another frat boy, looking to get into any woman’s pants (particularly yours at that moment). You never would’ve thought that he was just a loser who really liked FNAF and just thought you were pretty.

PARTY O'CLOCK — CHOI CHANHEE (12/22)

In spite of being a frat boy himself, Chanhee could never actually see himself enjoying the luxuries of the title. Besides, how could he with all the responsibilities of being treasurer? Enter you and your carefree spirit and Chanhee’s got a real big problem on his hands.

PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER — KEVIN MOON (PT. 1 | PT. 2)

It wasn’t like you and Kevin hated each other. In fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. Well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.

© juyeonszn & itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[stellari-s]

Omfg ithaqua centric tumblrs exist/j

I don't know I'd your still doing requests but can I request ithaqua with a reader who's rlly sweet and nice and everything, but the manor did like a swap with the survivors and hunters so that the hunters are the ones that run from the survivors and when Reader is picked they go NUTS. Like everyone's out and injured in like 2 minutes. After the event reader goes back to normal but if people look closely, Reader's picked up a bit of a hunger for blood sometimes...

✨

haha, ikr, and gosh, i’m really slow, i hope you’ll forgive me! but i will try my best with your request! i don’t end up describing the details of the match much rather than implying what happened, so i hope that’s ok.

request; yes, by anon! requests are currently closed, but my commissions are open if you’re interested.

wc; 945.

tags; default! ithaqua, gn! survivor! reader (who becomes hunter), reader treats ithaqua’s injuries.

summary; miss nightingale had come with a sudden announcement — survivors and hunters were going to switch places! and so, you are put into a match with ithaqua as the last one standing…

this very day was like a fever dream — but would it be a dream if one could see a subtle, yet irreversible change?

“a switch?”

ithaqua stayed silent, but he crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. though he said little, his feelings reflected that of everyone else’s in the room where miss nightingale had gathered all the hunters on a whim to make the very announcement of a role switch. he honestly harbored mixed feelings on the prospect of being the one chased, rather than the one doing the chasing, but more than that...

he thought back to a certain face among the survivors. a seemingly innocent face, whose kindness knew no bounds. would they be up for the task, he wondered?

robbie’s enthusiastic voice dragged ithaqua from his thoughts back into reality.

“oh oh, does this mean we get to play something like reverse tag?”

“seems like it,” ithaqua muttered in reply.

miss nightingale nodded once everyone had settled down (or, displayed some semblance of having settled down). “i’m glad we are on the same page. gather in lakeside in one hour if you are called upon, and take care not to be late.”

when miss nightingale left, murmurs immediately broke out among the hunters.

...there really is something off with her. i don’t like it.

nonetheless, ithaqua had no right to refuse; he could only sigh and wait for an hour to pass.

“survivors will become the hunters?”

this was news to you. what in the world could have brought on this change in the manor owner’s heart?

...not that you could really understand him. in fact, many things in the manor had been intriguing.

little things piqued your interest, and whispered rumors became a source of curiosity.

“i’m not sure i feel comfortable facing against hunters... as a hunter,” helena said, “wouldn’t you agree, (y/n)?”

“hm?” you looked at helena, who had a resigned smile on her lips.

i suppose it would be difficult for her, considering she can’t see. then again, she has a cane, so maybe she’s fine, and her personality is just too kind?

some survivors were fit to be a hunter, but helena was not one of them. it wasn’t a bad thing; it simply wasn’t her strength.

you flashed her a gentle smile of your own. “it is definitely a sudden development. i can understand the difficulty in processing it.”

you neither confirmed nor denied it.

—— 20 minutes later.

there was only one hunter left now: ithaqua.

you had noticed this in previous matches against him when he was hunter, but even with those stilts that looked so easy to trip in, ithaqua was very quick on his feet. there was clearly a lot of skill in maneuvering around with those.

you would spot him, and you would chase after him, only for him to slip between your fingers like locks of hair.

while his appearance resembled that of a supernatural creature to be feared, you found through spending time with him outside of matches that he was not a bad person. in fact, he was quite nice behind that colder facade.

if it were other survivors, they would probably be more cautious around ithaqua.

finally, you caught up to him in the small boat in lakeside village. “you’re the only one left standing, ithaqua,” you said, “yet you won’t surrender. do you think two hours will pass before i can catch you?”

ithaqua chuckled. “i’ll take your words as a compliment.”

“as they are meant to be. but i think two hours is quite a long time, so will you allow me to catch you before then?”

“if you’re going to catch me, do it with your own abilities.”

you shrugged, a resigned smile playing on your lips. “i suppose it can’t be helped then.”

it turned out you didn’t need him to “allow” you.

after the match, which had lasted around half an hour total, ithaqua hissed a little in pain as you wrapped the bandage around his arm, where he had cut himself.

“would it hurt to be a little more gentle treating my wound?”

“oh, don’t you know? it’s better to wrap the gauze more tightly. i do sincerely apologize for the... slightly rough handling toward the end of the match though. so please just think of this as repayment.”

ithaqua fell silent. this was one of the rare times he had his mask off, so you could see his eyes narrowed, his brows furrowed, and his lips pursed as he averted his pale blue eyes.

“what’s wrong?” you waved a hand in front of him.

“i don’t know. but is it just me or do you just look... a little different?”

“hm?”

he turned to look at you for a brief moment before retracting his arm. “it’s nothing. thanks for treating my arm.”

ithaqua stood up and tried to walk out of the room, but you called after him as his hand made contact with the knob.

“hey, ithaqua.”

he stood in frozen in place like a statue, as if contemplating whether or not he should turn out. in the end, he stayed still as he replied, “what?”

though he wouldn’t be able to see it, you flashed a smile his way.

“i look forward to the next match.”

you could have sworn you saw his shoulders twitch slightly upon hearing your words. he then turned around (to your surprise) and, with a sharp tone, shouted “well i don’t!” before shutting the door behind him.

you couldn’t help but let out a lighthearted laugh — he kind of reminded you of a cat.

a cat surely worth chasing, you reckoned.

[inkandarsenic]

these hollow empty spaces (1)

“do what is right, not what is easy.”

My first Game of Thrones fic! Notably, this is not the idea I sent in an ask to @dipperscavern, but rather one sort of inspired by a separate ask. I tried to link both asks, but tumblr won’t let me. Anyhoops.

Synopsis: The youngest daughter of Tywin Lannister refuses to stand idly by, and the currents of fate shift.

Pairing: Robb Stark x Lannister!OC

Tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers but like enemies more in the political sense

Pt. 1

masterlist | next

The North passed outside the window in an endless expanse of rolling moors and sprawling forests – nature at its finest. The air up here was clean and cold, almost sweet after the stink of King’s Landing. Maybe that’s why Eleyna couldn’t stop drawing back the heavy curtains that kept the cold out.

Cersei huffed. “Must you stare out the window? It’s not as if there is anything interesting out there.” She glared at Eleyna. “You’ll make the children sick, they aren’t used to this dreadful chill.”

The children in question were playing a game quietly in their corner of the wheelhouse, and looked rather warm, if Eleyna was being honest. The only one who could complain of being cold was Joffrey, riding outside with Jaime. Eleyna rolled her eyes at her sister and let the curtain drop. “You are the only one complaining, dear sister. Forgive me for wanting to enjoy the beauty of the North.”

“The beauty of a frozen, barren wasteland?” Cersei scoffed.

“You’ve been in the city too long, Cersei,” Eleyna sighed. “The North is not a wasteland.”

“No?” Cersei waved a hand at the window. “How many cities have we passed? How many keeps?” She shook her head disdainfully. “It has been days since we saw civilization, if that swamp can be called such. Barren wasteland.”

Eleyna sighed and leaned back in her seat. “That swamp is Moat Cailin. It is the first defense of the North against Southron invasions and it has never been taken precisely because of the swamp it sits on. You should know this, Cersei, don’t you ever listen to Father and Jaime?” She smirked faintly. “Or do you and Jaime not… talk about such things?”

Cersei scowled. Her voice was sharp when she spoke. “I have better things to worry about than Northern defenses.”

Eleyna shrugged and looked back out the window. “Let us all hope you never lead a war then.”

“Spending all those years with only Father and Tyrion for company has made you paranoid,” Cersei scoffed. “Do you expect us to be going to war with the North sometime soon, sister? Ned Stark is Robert’s loyal dog, you know that as well as I. I don’t worry about Northern defenses because there is no reason to. Lord Stark is loyal to Robert, and Robert plans to betroth the Stark girl to my Joffrey. We will have Northern loyalty for decades to come.”

“You sound so certain,” Eleyna mused. She certainly wouldn’t want to be Sansa Stark — Joffrey had become quite the mean-spirited boy in her years away from the Red Keep, and she often wondered what happened to the sweet little toddler he’d been when she left. Maybe he’d be kinder to his future wife.

****

There is a surprising amount of people in the courtyard of Winterfell when Eleyna follows Tyrion out of the wheelhouse ahead of Cersei and the children. The entire Stark household came out to meet the King, it seems. From the corner of her eye, Eleyna can see Joffrey preening, and she rolls her eyes at him, turning away before he can see.

The Stark family makes up the first line of welcoming party. A tall, serious-faced man near Robert’s age (wearing his years better, in Eleyna’s opinion) stands next to a pretty red-headed woman – Ned Stark and his Tully wife. She can hear her father in her head — “Honorable to a fault – where does honor get you in war?” — as she watches Lord Stark and his household kneel before Robert. The King waves them to their feet and regards Lord Stark solemnly.

“You got fat,” Robert says. Eleyna scoffs internally — Robert enjoyed his wine and feasting, and it showed — and she watches Ned Stark raise an eyebrow pointedly before both men start to laugh. She resists the urge to shake her head and moves her attention to the rest of the Starks.

Eleyna means to scan down the line of children — five of them, and all close in age, gods above Lord and Lady Stark had been busy — but her eyes land on the Heir of Winterfell and stop. Robb Stark’s coloring is all Tully, like his mother, all dark auburn curls and bright blue eyes. The expression he wears is all Lord Stark. She wonders idly what he’d look like wearing a smile — something tells her it would light his face up.

Tywin had brought Robb Stark up exactly once, when Eleyna had come of an age to betroth. Robert had wanted Tywin to arrange a marriage between the Stark heir and the Lannister heir. Tywin had read the letter to her and then promptly thrown it on the fire. He was adamant that his heir would not ever marry into the North. “You are a lioness, my daughter, and no child of mine will be a wolf if I can help it.”

“— and my goodsister, the Lady Eleyna Lannister.” Robert’s voice filtered in, and Eleyna blinked. She’d been staring at the Stark boy too long.

****

Robb stood solemnly by his father as they filled the courtyard. He could guess at some of them by reputation alone — the tall golden haired knight must be the Kingslayer, Ser Jaime Lannister, and the boy next to him was likely the Crown Prince, Joffrey. The king — a larger man than Robb had expected, a man who looked as though he enjoyed wine — stopped in front of Father, and the two men stared at each for a long tense moment.

Robb looked past them as the king spoke jovially to his father and greeted his mother. The queen’s wheelhouse had made it — barely — into the courtyard. First out was a short, little man who shared the Kingslayer’s blonde hair. “That’s the Imp!” Robb heard Arya whisper.

Robb’s eyes caught on the next person to exit, a golden-haired girl who looked close to his own age. He mentally ran through the members of the queen’s family — with that blonde hair, how could she be anything but Lannister? — and decided this had to be Eleyna Lannister, Tywin Lannister’s youngest daughter. He studied her delicate features, softer somehow than her elder sister’s. Robb would never say it — hadn’t Theon just said that morning that the queen was proud and vain? — but Eleyna Lannister was, in a word, beautiful, moreso than her sister in his opinion.

The instant the introductions and ceremony were finished, Father and the king disappeared down into the crypts, and the Lannisters were escorted off to the guest wing. Robb found his eyes following the Lady Eleyna as she passed by him, her arm around the shoulders of Prince Tommen.

Theon thumped him on the shoulders. “Aye, she’s a beauty, isn’t she?” He inhaled through his teeth as he watched the Lannister heiress walk away. “You know I heard they call her the Golden Rose of the Westerlands? Gods above, imagine being the man to get to marry that?”

Robb didn’t want to imagine it, not when he could feel Jaime Lannister’s glare boring into the side of his head. Rather, he felt like any perceived slight against the Kingslayer’s little sister would earn him a sword through the back. He swallowed, and dragged Theon off out of Lannister’s earshot before he could get himself in trouble.

****

“You’re walking with the Stark boy tonight,” Cersei said as she swept into the library. Eleyna looked up from her book with an eyebrow raised.

“Good afternoon to you, too, Cersei,” she snarked. “What are you on about now?”

“Myrcella is far too young to be considered for a betrothal,” Cersei snapped. She sat dramatically in a chair across the table — Eleyna oft thought Cersei would have done well in a theater troupe. “And I will be dead in the grave before I see my only daughter shipped off North.”

“I wasn’t aware Lord Stark was seeking a marriage for his heir,” Eleyna hummed. She closed the book and eyed her elder sister. “Are you not concerned with offending our hosts? Custom dictates that eldest available son and the eldest available daughter enter together.”

Cersei waved it away. “He isn’t, as far as I know. But you know Robert. He’ll take any opportunity to join our family with his precious Starks. Bad enough that he’s already promised Joff to the eldest Stark girl. No.” She shook her head. “To hell with custom. The Stark boy will have to content himself with you instead of my sweet Myrcella. I will not have my only daughter placed in the hands of a Northern brute.”

“Cersei.” Eleyna had long since mastered the exact tone of voice Tywin Lannister used to keep his children in line — perks of growing up at her father’s knee — and Cersei rolled her eyes, but stopped insulting the Starks, thank the gods.

It was a long moment before Eleyna spoke again. “I will walk with Robb Stark.” Cersei started to smirk and Eleyna resisted the urge to hit her sister — as usual, Cersei had gotten what she wanted. She gritted her teeth as she spoke. “You… are not entirely wrong. Myrcella is rather young. She’d be better suited with the younger Stark boy. Bran, I believe his name is.”

“I knew you’d see it my way.” Cersei patted Eleyna’s hand and swept out of the room as Tyrion entered.

“That’s not—” But Cersei was already gone. Eleyna rolled her eyes.

“Cersei in the library?” Tyrion said with an air of incredulity as he took Cersei’s seat. “Whatever is that about?”

“It seems I’m to be escorted by Robb Stark this evening. Cersei is convinced that if he takes Myrcella, Robert will betroth her to the man.” Eleyna eyed her brother over the table. “I don’t know how and I don’t know why. But somehow, this is your fault.”

Tyrion shrugged, tapping idly. “You wound me, sister. You truly believe me so scheming?”

“Yes,” Eleyna said flatly. She shook her head and reopened her book. “You know as well as I how protective Cersei is of her children.”

“Her one redeeming quality.”

Eleyna’s lips quirked. “You said something to her. Admit it.”

“It is hardly my fault if our dear elder sister takes a jest seriously,” Tyrion said casually. “No real harm done, though. In fact, I do believe you will make a fine couple with the young Stark, should a betrothal actually form from this single escort.”

Eleyna snorted in a rather unladylike manner. “Father would sooner see dragons return.”

Tyrion couldn’t really disagree with that, but he shrugged anyway. “Stranger things have happened.”

Eleyna didn’t dignify that with a response.

[ar3s-r4t-qu33n]

So "You're not giving me attention" and then making a whole post about me 😂😂 GET A BRAIN and touch some grass, maybe it will help you with crying over facts for your nOT rEAl ChArACter. Also the fact that he was growing in the mob family doesn’t justificate him. After a while he should know that he won't get any attention and grow up because no one likes him as a dumb ass Baby. What you're gonna say next to justificate his actions? Does his father told him to kill Clyde Perry and prostitue and hide in her stomach? he has some brain cells and decides what he's gonna do next. Don't pretend that he has trauma because he doesn't act like he has one.

*justify

And... I never justified his actions. No one here is saying that he's perfectly in the right to do what he did. We just like his character. And leaving me FOUR whole asks? Somebody must be a big fan of my work, I'm so glad you liked my argumentative essay ☺️ You should really stick around, writing is like, kinda my whole thing so I'm sure you'd LOVE what I've got planned in the future. Also love the ableism!! "Mentally challenged" is so sweet of you to say! I'm sure this is helping your case a lot, everyone is totally gonna get what you're saying now!!

Maybe you don't see child abuse or parental death as traumatic, but normal people do. People who don't trust and harass a whole group of randos on Tumblr, you know? I don't know, I really feel like you're wasting your breath baby, I told you I could go all day, and I will. I can go around and around and around. Hell, since you liked my writing so much, the next time you send me an ask, I'll tell you all about my headcanons and thoughts and feelings about Franco since you refuse to block the tag and clearly wanna see more of your favourite 'fucker'. I really hope you don't miss it since you barely go on Tumblr though :/

Oh, but just so you know, I'm removing Anon asks, so if you wanna keep this going, you're gonna have to show your real account. You know, so we can talk like 17+ adults like you claim you are ☺️

The ball's in your court sweetheart, can't wait to hear back from you, you've been an utter delight to speak to ♥️

[hpsaffics]

✨ WLW Wed: Cissamione (Part 1) ✨

A biweekly HP femslash rec list made by the lovely members of the HP SAFFICS (18+) discord server. See all previous rec lists in the WLW Library.

Currently: Hermione Granger/Narcissa Black Malfoy (see Part 2) Previously: Ginsy (see list)

—

💫 Hella Long (>100k) 💫

Extinction by @rubikanon [M, 200k]

Post-war adventure across the British countryside, Hermione accidentally falls in love with Narcissa Malfoy, classified missions and intrigue and dementors oh my, Ron isn't a jerk (what?! unheard of!), slow burn romance with a Serious Plot.

Blinding Lights by @16-pennies [T, 121k]

Hermione is left prisoner at Malfoy Manor, presumed dead by the Order and her days numbered by the Death Eaters. Against all odds, she discovers an unexpected ally...

The House of Black by Calliopeia419 [E, 102k]

Hermione studies for a PhD in English Literature and Drama, but struggles to pay the rent on the flat. Already drowning in work for her thesis, she contemplates accepting a job at the university library. But her supervisor Andromeda Tonks suggests an alternative - that Hermione take a part-time job with her sister, who runs a 'small clothes shop'...

The Ties that Bind by @belladonnainbloom [E, 102k]

Finally fed up with the useless advice of healers, Hermione is sure she'll never be able to remove the scar left on her arm by Bellatrix's knife. In a last act of desperation, she seeks out Narcissa Malfoy, now a veritable recluse after the war, in the hopes that she might know something… anything that could help.

—

💫 Long (10k-100k) 💫

Secrets of Stonehenge by Asgerthedemon [E, 82.6k]

Once again [Hermione] must save the world from mortal peril, so another Monday at the office. With the help of her friends and new girlfriend Narcissa, she faces off against the Creatures of Chaos, grudge holding journalists and a possessive ex. How will she make it through this trying time?

Dressed in Black by @habren [M, 31.3k]

Trapped in different cages, a surprising request leads to a series of Friday evening meetings that change Hermione's and Narcissa's lives forever.

She's Just a Boy by @looktotheedges [T, 28.8k]

Draco has been given a task by the Dark Lord. A task he can't refuse... Well. Narcissa Malfoy shan't let her son become a killer... She'll do anything for her son... Take his place at Hogwarts...and do the deed herself. Although she had not anticipated being a teenage boy being quite so difficult.

Sonnets & Submission by @storyof-eden [E, 26.5k]

Hermione was just twelve years old when she decided she would follow Harry Potter anywhere. At thirty, she never would've imagined it would lead where it did. To a BDSM club in the middle of London. To kneeling on the floor by her Mistress. To falling in love.

Silhouette by @maraudersaffair, SecondSilk, @sunflower-swan [E, 25.2k] WITH ART!

After the war, Narcissa is down and out and working as a seamstress when Hermione asks her to be her personal dressmaker. Narcissa agrees... The problem is Narcissa can't stop thinking about what it would be like to shag Hermione.

Love in the Eye of a Storm by @rattlesoft [M, 24.3k]

After the war, Narcissa Malfoy spends all of her time holed up in Malfoy Manor. Growing more and more dissatisfied, she takes a holiday to a mysterious island that promises no contact with the outside world. There, she encounters someone else in similar circumstances and a threat straight from her nightmares.

you say they're beautiful (but i can't breathe) by @evadwrites [T, 11.5k]

“It’s stupid,” Narcissa announces when Bella is finished talking. “Why would anyone choose to die for somebody who doesn’t love them back?”... It’s not until Narcissa falls in love with Hermione Granger that she knows for sure: she would let love kill her in a heartbeat.

—

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[samwpmarleau]

fic: so it goes

whumptober day 4: hallucinations masterlist: tumblr, ao3 “I’m gonna kill him.” The declaration is more growl than speech. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.” (tag to 5x14 so you know. warnings for that.)

Everything hurts. Every bone in her body, every muscle, and her head feels like it’s going to explode. Fitz had been correct about the shortage of painkillers, if not about anything else. There’s nothing in the Lighthouse except some old ibuprofen, which does little to help either her headache or the throbbing in her neck.

She hasn’t slept for two days, not since the … surgery. She hasn’t been able to. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees The Doctor, then Fitz, then Fitz who decides The Doctor had the right idea.

She sees Jemma crying and Deke horrified, and the robots programmed to hold everyone at gunpoint. She hears the clatter of medical instruments and that brogue that once had been soothing. She feels screws slowly piercing her skin, a scalpel slicing her open, tweezers pulling, pulling, pulling, pulling. She feels her powers return, which gives her both a sense of normalcy (oh how she’s missed them) and utter terror (Earth, quaked apart). She manages to do what Fitz asked, put the gravitonium in the ball to close up the Fear Dimension, and she has an hourlong nosebleed from the concentration and pain.

Jemma offers to suture her. She refuses. She does it herself, or tries to. It’s not very pretty, but it’s functional. The Lighthouse has those, at least, medical supplies. Not just the bandages, but the instruments as well. Of course, Fitz wouldn’t have been dissuaded by a lack. He’d have used his pocket knife, scissors, a goddamn safety pin if he had to. All in the name of necessity.

If he’d just talked to her, explained —

Daisy swallows around a lump in her throat as what feels like never-ending tears well in her eyes. She’s sick and tired of crying, but she can’t help it. She’s exhausted and she hurts.

Jemma had wanted her to stay in the medical bay for longer, something Daisy had summarily rejected. The last thing she wanted was to be poked and prodded more, especially without anything to dull the sensations. She’d accepted a Gatorade for the electrolytes, then had drawn the line and retreated to her room.

She’s been in the dark since, even the low-wattage Lighthouse bulbs too bright. No meals either, she can’t imagine actually eating anything. Mack and Yo-Yo had attempted to visit; them, too, she’d turned away. She’s not in the mood to be felt sorry for, and she’s definitely not in the mood to have Fitz’s actions softened or explained. Granted, she doesn’t know that they would, but there’s the chance. A high chance in Mack’s case, given how close he and Fitz are. Were, she hopes yet cannot count on. Jemma’s out of the question, of course.

Thus here she’s lain, alone and aching and cold beneath the covers unable to find a comfortable position no matter what way she arranges herself.

She’s at her wits’ end. So, she tries the only other thing she can think of. While it’s not something she wants to resort to — surely it’s not mentally healthy — it’s worked before and she’s desperate. She also can’t say she hasn’t missed him, mirage or no.

She closes her eyes and lets her mind drift.

—

Someone raps on her door, urgent and immune to her requests then shouts to go away. She thinks at first that finally they’ve retreated, except then she shoots up in bed, startled, as the lock is broken and the door swings inward. Of all the people she expected, Robbie Reyes was not one of them, yet he stands, backlit from the hallway.

Her shock is such that she can’t manage to tell him to leave, something he takes as encouragement. He shuts the door behind him. The metal sizzles as he casually welds it to the frame, what with having ruined the lock.

Daisy’s voice is hoarse. “What are you doing here? I thought you were off killing your way through space.”

“I was. Then I sensed that something was wrong with you, the Rider jumped us here, and a very confused Agent Davis filled me in.”

“You sensed something was wrong? From another dimension?” she frowns. “How?”

The heavy chain Robbie wields with such precision releases a deafening clang as he unravels it and sets it on her cluttered table. He takes the liberty of pulling over a chair to her bedside. “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

“No, what I mean is — you sensed me? Or the Fear Dimension?”

“What the hell is a Fear Dimension?”

“It’s … a long story.” Which leaves the other option, the one she doesn’t understand. “So, me, then.”

“That surprises you?”

“Uh, yeah, that surprises me. The Rider’s got to have better things to do than check up on me.”

“He does,” Robbie acknowledges, “but I don’t. Someone I care about is in trouble, I’m not gonna let that slide. Since I don’t have many of those and I’ve been doing what he wants, he made an exception.”

“And I’m one of those not-many?”

“Yeah, Daisy. You are.” His hand twitches as though to reach towards her, but ultimately it stays where it is. Though she can’t see his eyes very well in the feeble light that peeks through the crack beneath the door, she can feel their intensity. “Didn’t you know that?”

“You strolled through a portal with an evil book of magic, forgive me if I wasn’t holding my breath for you to come back anytime soon. Let alone for such a dumb reason.”

Robbie’s tone is quieter than usual. “A dumb reason?”

Daisy shakes her head. It’s too much. “You’re wasting your time. I bet there are plenty more scores for you to settle.”

Whatever had stopped Robbie before doesn’t now as he leans forward to touch her. His fingers are light, barely a whisper as he brushes them along her neck. Her shifting must have exposed the gauzed-over incision enough for him to notice. “I’m not wasting my time. What happened?”

Daisy shies away from him even though the wound has already started to scab, even though she knows he would never hurt her. Really, she should’ve let Jemma dress it when it was still fresh, avoid or minimize what is bound to scar, but she’d been rather pissed at the time, unable to look at even an extension of Fitz. She’s still rather pissed.

“It’s nothing. A scratch.”

“Doesn’t look like a scratch.” Noting her discomfort, he drapes her hair back over the wound, concealing it to the world, and traces her jawline instead. She shivers, and not from being cold. “Daisy, tell me.”

She doesn’t want to. She doesn’t want to relive again what she already does every minute of every hour since it happened. But he’s earnest, and he’d crossed literal dimensions to get here —

And he’s the one person who’d met her before anyone else. Jemma, Yo-Yo, Mack, they’d all met her and Fitz at the same time, if not earlier. They love him dearly. They’re conflicted.

Not Robbie.

Robbie who had to be threatened to work with S.H.I.E.L.D., yet had bought bandages for her in the middle of a blackout. Who managed to send her a sign while trapped between two planes of existence. Who trusted her wholly with his brother, the thing most precious to him. Who had traveled here through an interdimensional portal from hell because somehow, he could sense her suffering.

No, Robbie would not go to the mat for Fitz — but he would for her.

Surrendering, she recounts everything. The future, Kasius, the Fear Dimension … the surgery. All of it. Robbie absorbs her words with little reaction, which with every passing word drives more and more apprehension into her heart. Had she been wrong in her assessment? If she can’t count on him, nor those she considered her friends, her family, who can she count on? Only herself. And if she’s the only one who has a problem with any of this, maybe she’s the one in the wrong. Maybe Fitz, The Doctor, the hybrid, was right and she’s overreacting —

Daisy startles at Robbie’s voice, as much by the suddenness as the response itself.

“I’m gonna kill him.” The declaration is more growl than speech. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

Daisy expects to see amber irises, the Rider’s bloodthirst poking through. She finds none. Robbie’s own dark brown is all that’s there; the bloodthirst is his. It’s unnerving and comforting all at once. More than that, it’s gratifying to a degree she hadn’t expected.

Something in her chest loosens. The fact that he’s ready and willing and able to murder someone for hurting her — someone he knows … She’d have been okay with perfunctory empathy, a pat on the shoulder. Not that she would ever ask Robbie to kill anyone, but the gesture, that she will take as-is.

She squeezes his tensed arm to keep him from marching down to the cells right this instant and turning Fitz into a pile of ashes. “No. No, don’t, just — stay with me. Please.”

He obeys with reluctance, and at her gentle tugging gets up from the chair to settle beside her on the bed. Satisfied that he won’t move, she slides down to lay her head on his lap. She burrows into the supernatural warmth that seeps into her bones. Which serves only to make her emotions float even nearer to the surface, for allowing Robbie to access his powers means that perhaps even Ghost Rider, an uncompromising demon whose moral scales permit brutality, is on her side. Even he has determined Fitz’s methods to be extortionate.

The sobs come at that realization, thick, heavy sobs that dampen Robbie’s jeans and smudge what’s left of her mascara. She holds onto him like a lifeline. Because that’s what he is, her only lifeline in an ocean of loneliness and pain. He eases off his jacket and covers her with it, enveloping her in his scent. She doesn’t know when that smoke-and-leather had become familiar, let alone calming, but somewhere along the line it had.

Robbie pulls her yet tighter to him, slowly soldering her broken pieces back together, and lets her cry until at long last she falls into welcome sleep.

—

He isn’t there when she wakes up. No warmth, no jacket. Her pieces are still scattered. She tries to sink back into the gilded dream that had seemed so real, desperately wanting to feel Robbie’s solace for a moment more. One moment, that’s all she asks.

It’s to no avail. He’s gone. He never was here to begin with. He’s in a hell of his own far away from hers, unreachable.

The tears come again. This time, there’s no one to dry them.

[millersdjarin]

I Only See Daylight - 20

Chapter Twenty

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!AFAB!Reader

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings/Tags: smut, SUPER loving sex, skinny dipping, piv sex, tenderness, found family, mentions of scars/insecurity

Chapter Length: 8k

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist & Info | Full Masterlist

notes: if you've seen any of my recent tumblr posts or updates on the fic tag, you'll know i've been having MAJOR tech problems, as well as various Life Problems too! hence why this took an ABSURD amount of time to update! i am SO sorry, i can only apologise and offer this new chapter that i hope was worth the insane wait. thankfully i have my laptop back and didn't lose any of the fic, so all is well again. (i'm still sick tho). anyway, enough from me - let's get to what you're here for! enjoy ♥︎

recap: reader and din are on the run from the cult that raised her, and they're escaping to D'Qar to hide out while they wait for the aid of boba fett, who is hoping to make a deal with the cult for reader's freedom.

and now i see daylight, i only see daylight

There’s nothing but green as you fly over the jungles of D’Qar. Despite living in forestland for years, it’s never lost on you—the beauty of it.

Din finds a tiny clearing to just about fit the ship in. It’s beneath the cover of a mountain, tucked away in a huge cove of rocks, rivers, and waterfalls. When you first see the space, you’re not sure he’s going to be able to manage it; it looks so small. But he knows the size of his ship, and he knows exactly how to manoeuvre it, so he lands just perfectly on the flat, rocky ground in the clearing. 

It’s only a few hours until sunset, Din says, but you and the kid are excited to get out and have a look around. So as soon as everything’s secure, you lower the ramp, instantly hit with the warm, humid atmosphere of the jungle surrounding you. It’s somehow loud and quiet all at once; rushing water is close by and all kinds of wildlife are tweeting, chirping, croaking, whether in the trees or in the brush. The late evening sun is lowering, casting a golden-red glow through the tall, evergreen trees that surround you. 

A river runs underneath the ship. It’s only small, probably shallow enough for even the kid to stand up in. But it’s running quickly and downhill, winding around damp rocks covered in moss. The waterfall feeds into the lake just ahead; this is probably one of the offshoots from it.

“You like it?” Din’s modulated voice says over your shoulder. 

You turn to him, the kid in your arms. “We like it,” you confirm, smiling. 

Grogu is leaning over towards the river, making grabbing motions at it. He seems fascinated by the running water. He probably also wants to look for fish and frogs to eat in it, too. You know him well.

“Not tonight, kiddo,” you tell him apologetically, straightening the collar of his robe. “We can explore some more tomorrow. We’ve been travelling a while, haven’t we?” 

His ears turn down sadly. He looks at you, gives the Pleading Eyes.

As cute as he is, you’re not as much of a sucker as Din. (He’d never admit to it. Ever. But you know that he is, when it comes to Grogu.) You give him a little smile and a shake of your head. “Sorry, kid. Your dad and I are tired. We can explore all you like tomorrow, though; we’re here for a few days.” 

Grogu looks to Din, like he’s asking for a second opinion. 

He sighs, long-suffering. “Kid,” he says, so rueful it’s almost comical, “sorry, but I agree. I’m not gonna go against her word, you know that.” 

Your heart swells.

Grogu looks significantly less pleased by Din’s words, though. 

And, boy, does he let you know it. 

You’d been hoping that maybe you and Din could have some alone time tonight. Really take your time, enjoy it, make each other feel like nothing bad in the Galaxy will ever touch any of you again. It’s what you both need right now.

But Grogu has other plans. 

He refuses to settle. 

In hindsight, it makes sense. You’ve been in hyperspace for days with no fresh air and no opportunity for him to use up some energy. And he’s been so good with sleep all this time, despite the fact that his days have been pretty dull and routine. Really, he was overdue a hyperactive night. He’s just a little kid, after all, and he’s done this a few times while you’ve been with them, especially since extended periods stuck in hyperspace have become a thing. He usually crashes and falls asleep where he stands by a few hours before the day cycle begins.

But, kriff. You’re so tired. You hadn’t realised just how much sleep has been helping you heal until it’s been six hours since the moons rose, it’s four until they set again, and you’re not just exhausted but starting to ache. 

As you remove Grogu from one of the power line tunnels for the seventh time, you feel a soft hand sitting on your shoulder. Plopping Grogu back down on the floor, you look up to find Din beside you with a mug of something steaming in his hand. “You should get some sleep,” he says quietly, then takes Grogu in his arm and hands him the mug. You realise it’s his favourite: a malty, chocolate hot drink that Din always gives him when he’s scared, tired, or he can’t sleep. 

Grogu takes it eagerly. He wiggles to get out of Din’s arms, so Din puts him down in his hammock and sits down beside him, resting his elbow on the top of Grogu’s cubbyhole. 

“I’m fine,” you lie, suppressing a yawn. 

“No, you’re not. Go to bed. He’ll settle soon.” 

You look at him. At the tired tilt of his body, leaning against the little door. You can hear the tiny slurps of Grogu enjoying his drink. On nights like these, Din knows the exact right time to give Grogu his hot cocoa, timing it with the oncoming energy crash. It helps bring it sooner, when he does it right. 

“Cyar’ika,” Din says softly, calling your attention back to him. You hadn’t even realised that your gaze had slipped away, your eyes blurring over with tiredness. “I mean it. Get some sleep. I’ll come and hold you soon, once he’s settled.” 

You sigh. “Alright. But tomorrow, we’re taking him out there, and we’re tiring him the fuck out.” 

A tired chuckle comes through the modulator. “Agreed.” 

“I’m taking him swimming. He wanted to do that.” 

“He’ll love that. Don’t talk about it too much, though, or he’ll think we’re going to do it right now.” 

You chuckle, too, even though it hurts. Pushing yourself up from the floor with a groan, you then walk over to Din, and lean down to press a kiss to his helmet. “Call me if you need me, okay?” 

He takes a hold of your hand and squeezes it. “Promise.” 

You’re asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow. 

You don’t know how much longer it is until you feel Din slide in behind you, still wearing his armour, gently wrapping his arm around your waist. “I’m here,” he whispers, quiet enough not to wake you if you were asleep, but loud enough that you’d hear it if you stirred. 

Which you do. Just enough to shuffle back into him, take hold of his hand, and fall asleep again. 

When the day comes, Grogu wakes with it.

Which you expected. But, still. 

Din is already awake and taking him upstairs for breakfast. Tiredly, you follow them, and it’s only because you know him so well that you notice the way Din is standing differently. The way he only does when he’s exhausted.

“I’ll take Grogu out this morning,” you say to Din while he cooks up breakfast for all three of you. “You can catch up on some sleep.” 

Din shakes his head. “I want to come.” 

“You don’t have to. We won’t go far.” 

“I want to come,” he says again, in that tone of voice that says Thank you, but I’m not going to change my mind. 

Knowing this, you nod, and sit down at the table beside the kid. He looks bright-eyed and innocent, like he didn’t spend over half the night trying to tear the ship apart. 

“Are you going to swim with us?” You ask Din, smiling teasingly. 

“I think the beskar might weigh me down,” he replies, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. 

“Who said anything about beskar?” 

“You asking me to scar the kid for life by going in naked?” 

“Fair point.” 

“What are you going to swim in? And the kid?” 

“I figure we can change his robe afterwards; this one needs cleaned anyway. And I’m going in my shirt and underwear.” 

His helmet tilts towards you for a second, glancing at you. “I’m definitely coming.” 

You giggle, and feign shock, “Get a hold of yourself. Not in front of the kid, Mando.” 

Chuckling, he dishes up breakfast, and slides two plates across the table for you and Grogu. He takes his own plate, and tells you he’s going to eat in the cockpit. He’s still getting used to eating in front of you. Hell, he’s still getting used to having his helmet off in front of you, period, but he hasn’t eaten at all without it yet. You understand, and it doesn’t bother you. You’re just lucky to have any part of him at all.

The waterfall is just behind the trees a few metres along from the ship, pouring down over a sheer cliff face a ways up the mountain. Green vines and long tree branches hang over it, colourful flies dancing in the rainbow water spray before it hits the lake below. The lake is big, curving around the base of the mountain before it runs down over a rock and splits into little rivers. The water is clear but looks blue and green with the small pebbles and soft, mossy plants that coat the bed of it. It’s hot out here, but pleasantly so, the sun shining brightly in the late-morning blue sky. 

Grogu is cooing excitedly in your arms. You’ve got a towel wrapped around your shoulders and a smaller one over one of your arms for him, along with a spare robe. Din follows closely behind.

You stop by the shore of the river, watching as Din lays out a blanket on the ground to sit on. As you turn to look at him, the sun glints brightly off his armour, the bright green of your surroundings reflecting in the beskar and making him look like he’s one with nature. Or, as close as someone covered in metal could look to being one with nature. Your heart swells with warmth as you’re reminded of the first few days you spent together; when so much of your mind was occupied with how he’d look in different lights, in different worlds. 

It hits you, for a second, that you’re getting to see it. That you can not only admire the way he’s somehow never looked more silver, but also looks green and brown all at the same time; but also you can tell him how you feel. You can touch that armour, touch him. 

The poor kid is trying to get a good look at the water, trying to get you to put him down. But you’re too transfixed by the sight of Din. By the fact that this is everything you ever wanted, since the first moment you heard his voice. 

“Cyar’ika?” Din questions, stepping closer. “You okay?” 

You snap back to the moment at hand. Finally you put the kid on the ground, and he runs towards the water in an instant. “Sorry,” you say, and glance back at the kid, “Can he swim?” 

Din shakes his head. “He won’t go deeper than he can handle. He likes to just splash.” He steps closer again, close enough to put his gloved hand on the underside of your elbow. “Where’d you go, in your head just now?” 

Your hand finds his chest plate. You look down, see your reflection in it, the green trees behind you. A smile is on your face before you realise. “You’re beautiful,” you say instead of answering his question. When you look back up at his helmet, it’s tilted slightly, quizzically. “We’ve come a long way,” you whisper. 

His thumb rubs over your arm. “I’ve loved every minute.” 

Your heart lurches. If you could, you’d lean up and kiss him. 

“Kid’s waiting,” Din says, nodding his head over your shoulder. 

When you turn around, Grogu is standing in the very shallows, only an inch of water above the hem of his robe. He’s looking at you with a tilted head, his ears turned in a way that asks you a question. You chuckle at the sight of him. “I’m coming, kiddo. You wanna go swimming with me?” 

Grinning, he jumps up and down on the spot and waves his hands around a little. Water splashes up around him. 

You hear Din chuckle from behind you, then feel the towel start to slip from your clothed shoulders, his hands following in its wake, slowly rubbing down your arms. He hooks his helmet over your shoulder. “Go on,” he says lowly, “I’ll keep watch.” 

You turn your head and press your nose into the hollow of his helmet’s cheek, then give him a sunny grin before you run towards the shore, towards the kid who’s looking increasingly excited. 

Happiness is warm in your veins, like the sun in the sky, like the feeling of the water on your skin. 

After a long swim and a hike around the surrounding hills and forest, the three of you are well and truly hungry. You’d let the warm air dry you out as you walked and picked berries and herbs for dinner, gathering them in Din’s satchel. Grogu started tiring an hour out from the ship, but you coaxed him along with promises of finding some nice insects for him to catch; which he did, and enjoyed every single one. 

Now you’re back at the ship, and Din is cooking up some fresh meat with the herbs you picked, while you make a little fruit salad from all the fruit you found in the forest. The sun is setting, Grogu is watching his HoloNet show, and he’s looking very sleepy. 

Dinner is what gets him truly ready to sleep. He’s snuggling into Mando’s thigh by the end of it, looking about ready to drop off right there and then and make it his bed for the night. With a soft chuckle, and a knowing glance towards you, Din lifts him up from the sofa and cradles him in his elbow. 

“Night, kiddo,” you reach out and run your hand over Grogu’s cheek. His ear twitches in response, his left eye opening just enough to look at you. Din reaches out with his spare hand to tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear, then he turns, and heads down the ladder. 

You follow after a minute, anticipation stirring low in your belly as you hope for the much-needed night alone with Din. Absently, you listen to the soft sounds of him putting the kid to bed. It doesn’t take long. 

Before you know it, Din’s standing in the bed chamber doorway. “He’s out. Like a light.” 

“Mission accomplished, then?” 

Din nods. “He’s snoring, so we know he’s really asleep.” 

You chuckle softly, letting your eyes roam over Din now that you know you have him to yourself. You reach out your hand towards him. “Come to bed?” 

He takes your hand, but doesn’t climb into bed. Instead, he smoothes his thumb over your knuckles, and says, “I thought we could go for a swim.” 

Oh. 

You weren’t expecting that. Somehow, it’s better than what you were expecting, which you didn’t think was possible. 

“Yeah?” You just about manage to say, your voice coming out as a squeak as anticipation spikes higher in your chest. 

He nods. “It’s a nice night. Moons are out, kid’s asleep…” 

You nod, too, and bite your bottom lip. “Din,” you whisper, “are you asking me to go moonlight skinny dipping?” 

A lovely chuckle comes through the helmet. He steps closer, reaches out his other hand to brush it down your cheek. “Yes, Mesh’la, I am.” 

“Well,” you push yourself up from the bed without another moment to waste, “don’t have to ask me twice. Will the kid be OK?” 

“Like I said, he’s out of it. I’ve put a live commlink in there with him, just in case,” he fishes said commlink out of his pocket. Then, with a smirk in his voice, “It’s waterproof.” 

Oh, he has planned-planned this. You could not be more thrilled. 

It’s still so warm outside. The moons are full and bright, casting a white light over the entire jungle. It reflects on the lake, glimmering in ripples of water and illuminating the waterfall as if it’s made of light itself. 

Din has taken off his armour, leaving him in just his flight suit and helmet. You’re wearing the shirt you wore to swim earlier and underwear beneath it. Din reaches for your hand as you pad towards the lake; you’ve never held hands while walking before, and it’s strange, but nice. Definitely unnecessary outside of a situation like this, but, still. 

He stops by the shore, and you stop too. The waterfall is loud at the other side of the lake, but calming. 

Then, Din starts to take his flight suit off. You’re too distracted by the slow reveal of his skin at first to realise that you should probably be getting undressed too. He just looks ethereal beneath the moons’ glow; it reflects from his helmet and makes his skin glow as he strips off his suit and lets it fall to the floor. He glances at you, knowing you’re watching, and when he pulls off his helmet there’s an amused smirk on his lovely lips. 

“You’re looking at me like I’m a show,” he says, leaning down to place the helmet carefully on the grass. 

You smile. “You are to me.” 

He leans down and kisses you, just once, chaste. Like he can’t help it. Then he takes off his boxers, and he’s naked before you, glowing white in the daylight-like lights shining in the sky. Now you’re really distracted. If you thought naked Din was perfect all wet and tousled in the shower, this is something else entirely. He’s not even wet yet. You can’t wait for him to be wet. 

As if reading your mind, he places a kiss on your forehead before whispering, “See you in there.” And he’s off, wading into the water. 

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip while you watch him go. The muscles in his back shift as he walks so casually into the lake, brushing at the surface with his fingertips. They leave diagonal trails in the water, like skimming stones. His back is so broad, so muscular, all highlights and shadows in the light. 

And his ass. Kriff, that’s the Ass of the Galaxy right there. Glowing under the moonlight, curved just right, muscles shifting with each push of his legs through the water. It’s a shame when he gets in deep enough that it covers him. He turns around when he’s waist-deep and raises an eyebrow.

“Are you coming?” 

Probably in more ways than one, yes. 

You quickly strip off, feeling self-conscious standing here on the shore in front of him, and wade over to meet him. The waterfall is close now, just on the other side of the lake, rushing down from the mountain. If you get any closer, you’ll probably feel tiny droplets of spray. 

You reach your hand out as you approach Din, and he takes it with a soft smile. As you come to a stop in front of him, you look up into his eyes, and all the breath falls from your lungs. Somehow, looking at him like this overwhelms all the other senses in your body. The water is warm around you, and the lake floor is a strange combination of soft and rocky, some plants tickling at your toes. The air is a little humid but nice, comforting, something you’ve not felt before. And the sound of rushing water is all-consuming, covering all noises of the jungle wildlife and even the wild beating of your heart.

And he’s here, naked, his bare and damp skin on show before you.

But his eyes are what holds you. They are what make you feel weak in the knees, what make your fingertips tingle. Especially when he looks at you like that. 

Like he knows you. 

Like he loves you.

“You are so beautiful,” he says into the space between you, his voice somehow coming up clearer than anything, even above the noise. 

You stroke your hand down his cheek, leaving a wet mark there. Then you move to his chest, running through the chest hairs, smiling when his skin rises into goosebumps. You wonder how many times it’s done that when you can’t see it; when it’s hidden behind his armour. 

“You’re perfect,” you tell him. 

It’s not really quiet enough to talk. Thankfully, you don’t need to.

He pulls you in by the waist and presses your bodies flush together, all warm and wet and bare here beneath the two moons. His arms wrap around your middle, and yours around his neck as you stand on your tiptoes to hook your head over his shoulder. Your hands are wet as they tangle in his hair, press against his shoulder blade, feeling his lips so hot and gorgeous against your neck. He mouths lazily at your skin. Doesn’t suck or bite or even really kiss; just touches you with his lips and his tongue, like he’s trying to take as much of you as possible, like he wants his breath to go into your skin and make you his on the inside, as much as leaving a mark on the outside would.

You let him. You let him, too, when he pulls away and takes your hand, leading you over to the waterfall. 

Your eyes don’t leave him the entire time. They don’t need to; he’s guiding you, and you don’t need to watch where you’re going. 

He stops in front of the rushing water and looks down at you expectantly, his hand still in yours. You raise an eyebrow in question, to which he responds, “We’re going under it.” 

Your eyebrow raises, too. “I love to shower with you, but I think this shower’s flow might be a little too strong.”

He grins. His skin is shining with water spray, making him sparkle. “We just have to go under for a second, then we’re going behind it. Trust me, it’ll be worth it.” 

Always trusting him, you nod, and follow when he tugs on your hand again. 

The waterfall is pretty intense as you walk under it; you do it as fast as you can, worried at first that it might hurt you, but it doesn’t. It’d probably feel pretty good against your tired muscles, actually, if it weren’t for the still-healing wounds on your back. Din seems to enjoy it; he stands under the flow for a little longer than you, letting it run over his back and closing his eyes for a second. (You make a mental note to give him a massage one of these days. You don’t know how you haven’t thought about it before.)

Standing behind the waterfall, you’re in a strange sort of cave area, a metre or so in between the flow and the cliff face behind it. The rocks are shining, glistening in the moonlight that comes through the water. When you turn to look out where you came from, you’re amazed by the sight: the bright white of the moons is shining through the wall of water that encases you in this little haven, making each large droplet look like a light, a white flame rushing down towards the lake. It’s like a cascade of stars too dense to see each individual one before it falls. 

When you look to Din, the light and shadow from it is dancing across his face. The water that you stand in is sparkling, too, casting a rippling reflection on the skin under his jaw. You’ve never seen anything like this before. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. 

“You like it?” He asks you, his voice surprisingly loud as it echoes from the wall. 

A smile stretches your lips. “I love it,” you tell him with a nod of your head. You reach out and hold him again, this time wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to kiss him, soft and sweet. “It’s like our own little hideaway.” 

He trails his lips over your cheek, your jaw, down to your neck. His wet hands sit gently on your waist. As he kisses your bare shoulder, paying special attention to the curve of your clavicle, your hands run down over his pecs, fingertips catching on his hardened nipples. Yours are hard, too; you can feel them where they press against his chest. 

You close your eyes as he starts to suck a mark at the place where your shoulder meets your neck. One hand runs down his chest, towards his belly button, the other back up into his hair. A pleasured breath releases from your mouth when his hands slide down your body, around to the small of your back and eventually landing on your ass, one hand on each cheek. He squeezes, just lightly. A soft gasp from you is rewarded with an even softer whimper from Din, breathed right into the crook of your neck as he continues to nip at your skin. 

“Din,” you whisper, not the start of a sentence, but a statement. Because you’ll never get tired of saying his name. You tighten your hand in his hair, pull on it a little, earning another one of those lovely, soft moans. You feel it vibrating in your neck. 

Then he’s moving down, his face coming to rest between your breasts. It feels colder without him pressed right against you, but he’s still close enough for you to touch him just the same, the hand on his tummy running back up through his chest hair, then down his arm.

You gasp as his mouth closes around one of your hard nipples. Your hand in his hair tightens in response, pulls him in even closer, urges him to do it again. 

He does, and he sucks it into his mouth. The pull is fucking gorgeous. He’s never done this before; you don’t ever want him to stop. His mouth is so hot and wet, a contrast to the damp sheen on the rest of your skin that’s leaving you with a bit of a chill. You feel his tongue lapping at the underside of your nipple. The texture of it has just the right amount of roughness. 

He moves to the other breast and continues his job there. You’re whimpering, barely even hearing yourself, just feeling your chest moving in his mouth as breaths escape your throat. 

“Din, that’s…that’s so good…” 

He hums his approval. When he pulls his mouth off you, you can just about hear the pop, and you definitely feel the string of spit that connects your skin to his mouth for a second. “If the water was shallow, I’d get my head between your legs, too, Mesh’la…” he breathes as his mouth finds yours again, not giving you a chance to say anything in response before he’s kissing you again, all open-mouthed and hot and breathy. You just moan, surprised and pleased. Your arms wrap all the way around his neck and pull him down into you. 

He’s so warm. He’s so him. 

His tongue is on yours in a second, pushing and pulling with each give and take of his lips. You let him guide you, pinning him to your face with a firm hand on the back of his neck. His arms are around your waist, holding the rolls of flesh in his palms. It feels so good. He feels so fucking good. 

You want him to know that. You need him to know how much you love to look at him, to touch him, to feel him. The coolness of your skin as the night air dries droplets of spray is the most beautiful contrast to the heat of his hands, his mouth, his breath. It’s intoxicating and you will never get enough of this. If his body wasn’t so irresistible to touch, you’d pull back and just stare at him. All kriffing night. 

Instead, though, you let your mouth fall from his in favour of trailing your lips across his jaw. They leave a wet trail in their wake. He doesn’t seem to care; in fact, his hands tighten against you when you start to suck at his neck. You use your teeth, pulling his skin into your mouth so hard that you hear it spluttering against the suction of your lips. You want to mark him, too; make sure his skin never forgets the way you feel. 

“Cyare…” he groans as you move your face to his chest. Your nose nuzzles into the hair there, one of your hands sliding down to play with his nipple. You suck at the other one and he’s got one hand on your breast now, cupping it in his palm and squeezing with each pull of your mouth. He tips his head back and if you weren’t so occupied with getting his nipple as hard as it can possibly get, you’d lean up and kiss the expanse of that gorgeous neck and mark it up until there were no doubts that he’s yours. 

By the time your lips are at his belly button, the water is starting to tease at your chin. You’d go lower if you could. 

You tell him as much. 

To which he responds with a desperate groan and a hand on the back of your head, bringing you back up to his face. “I need you,” he whimpers, pressing his nose into yours, “I need you, Mesh’la. Please.” 

You stroke his face. “You have me. Any way you want me.” 

A moan slips past his lips. He falls into you, kisses you slowly for a minute. 

“You wanna take me against this rock wall?” You ask him, letting your nails run over the side of his neck, just hard enough to pull a gasp into his throat. “Or take me back to land, fuck me on the shore?” 

“Kriff, Mesh’la,” he’s falling apart, his voice just a broken whimper as his hands find purchase on your ribs again and squeeze at the plump flesh. “Whatever you want. I’ll—do whatever you want.” 

You smile softly. “As much as I’d love for you to take me here in the lake, the footing isn’t exactly stable, and you know I like it rough…” 

Another moan. Good. 

You press kisses to his neck, catch the fall of his Adam’s apple as he swallows heavily. “Let’s go back to shore.” 

Desperate, he nods, and leads you under the waterfall. “You okay? Does it hurt?” He asks. 

You shake your head and smile at him, always appreciating that your comfort comes first, even when he’s this desperate to fuck you. “No. I’m good.” 

He practically throws himself onto the grass bank when you’re back on land, pulling you down on top of him. You can’t help but giggle at his eagerness. It’s so fucking cute and really kriffing hot that he wants you so badly he’ll just collapse on the riverbank, beneath the silver glow of two moons, completely bare for you and out in the open air, if it means you’ll give him what he wants. 

Which you will. You always will.

You lean down over him, palms pressed to the grass on either side of his head. You’re both still wet, dripping into the ground below. Your breasts press into his chest, hair falls into his face. He pushes it out of the way and holds it there, like he doesn’t want anything getting in the way of his view of you.

“Kriff,” he curses softly. You can hear him better now you’re out of the waterfall; can hear the desperation in his voice, how even his breathing is starting to sound like a series of whines. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Look at you…” 

“Look at you,” you counter with a smile, feeling your chest bloom with warmth at his compliment. “Under the moonlight like this. Kriff, Din. Don’t you look pretty?” 

Breathy, he laughs. He closes his eyes for a second, shakes his head. “Don’t tease me.” 

“I’m not. You do look pretty,” your fingers run through the sparse hair on his jawline. And then, it escapes you in a sigh, an expel of breath like it’s releasing some kind of something by saying it out loud, “Kriff, I love you.” 

His eyes open at that. Right into yours, all glowing and watery and adoring. You could look at him like this forever. His hand strokes down your cheek. “I love you,” he tells you. Soft, shaky. Still just a hint of desperation there. 

As much as you could look at him like this forever, and stay like this for just as long, there is a distinct throbbing between your legs and a wetness there that definitely did not come from the lake. You’re sure he can feel it; your core is pressed right up against his hips and you can feel his cock there, hard and wet and ready for you. 

As if reading your mind, Din’s hand runs down your ribs, over the curve of your hips, then presses between your legs. He dips his fingers into your folds, separates them. “Kriff, you’re so wet already,” he says, gazing up at you as though he’s amazed by it. By you. 

“You do things to me,” you tell him with a grin and a shrug, to which he laughs, tipping his head back for a second. You just watch him, warmth not only spreading between your legs but around your heart, too. 

His lips kiss messily at your neck as he slips his finger inside you. It’s heavenly; a warm, slick glide of the one digit sending something hot and comforting all the way through you. Your eyes flutter closed when he slowly thrusts in and out. He’s not even trying to achieve anything; he’s just feeling you, appreciating every inch he can get his finger on. 

“Din,” you say, already feeling breathless, “more. Please.” 

He’s never turned you down. His thumb finds your clit, pushes back the hood and presses gently. Pleasure courses through you again, a jolt for each circle he makes around the bundle of nerves. His other finger joins the first after a moment, but you’re so kriffing ready for him that it’s not enough, you can feel his cock against the inside of your thigh and it’s so close but not close enough—

“Din, I’m ready for you. Are you ready?” 

He meets your eyes. He’s looking up at you like you’re the stars in the sky. It sends a shiver down you that has nothing to do with the two fingers he’s pushing in and out of your soaking heat. He nods, then, and says, “Please. I need you. Need to be inside you.” 

You nod, too, leaning down to give him a kiss. “Mind if I stay on top?” 

“Whatever you want.” 

“Mm. Are you gonna beg tonight?”

“If you want me to.” 

“You could try it,” you say with a smirk as you slide down his body, lift yourself up on your knees above him, “See how I like it.” The ground is damp below you, grass tickling at your skin. You take his cock in your hand, and it’s still wet, but you can’t wait to make it properly wet. 

Like it’s an instinct, he reaches out to take hold of your hips. He gazes up at you, and says, “Please, baby. I need to feel you.” He’s so vulnerable like this. Underneath you, naked, bathed in moonlight. He could, of course, overpower you—or anyone who got on top of him—if he wanted to. You never imagined The Mandalorian lying on his back like this for anyone; would never think that it was a place he could feel comfortable, safe. His whole life has been about fighting. About making sure he’s one step ahead.

And yet here he is, spread out before you, so open, bare underneath you, completely at your mercy. Because he wants to be. Because he trusts you.

You line him up at your entrance, but don’t slide onto him right away. You’re enjoying the desperation on his face just a little too much; the wrinkles in his forehead, his brows drawn together, bottom lip pressed under his teeth. With a grin you take a moment to admire in him in the moonlight and, with your hand wrapped around his cock, you slide him up and down through your wet folds. 

The look on his face is priceless. His neck strains, he swallows so heavily you see the movement all the way through it, and a whimper comes from him, even better than the ones he’s given already. 

“You look so pretty like this,” you tell him, still teasing him. You brush the head of him over your clit and, fuck,that feels good. His hot dick, already leaking and wet from your slick, rubbing over the bundle of nerves like his finger would, but different. Bigger. Rounder. 

“That feel good?” Din asks, and it’s only when you hear the smirk in his voice that you realise your eyes have closed. You’re focusing on the feeling, the roundness of his head. Before you know it you’re grinding on it, desperate to feel more of it. 

“Kriff,” you gasp, suddenly breathless, “that’s really fucking good.” 

“Keep going, if you want.” 

You could. You’d love to. The very fact that he’s offering this to you, knowing that it would only delay the part where he’s inside you and getting what he wants, turns you on even more.

But you know how desperate he is. And your heat is practically begging for him to be inside you. 

“Feels good for me, too,” he tells you as if sensing your hesitation. 

You smile at him. “Later,” you decide. “I want you inside me now.” With one last swipe of his head over your clit, you sigh, and then move your hips up so he’s lined up with your entrance again. Then, you sink down onto him, and kriff, it’s fucking delicious. 

The stretch, his heat, the way his dick caresses your walls like they’re something precious as they pulse and throb around him. 

He tips his head back and groans. His fingers tighten on your hips and you fucking love it. Love looking at him like this. Stretched-out, lit from the bright light of two moons, the jungle surrounding him and water still sheening over his chest.

You run your hands through his chest hair and sigh as heaven pulses through your core. “Feels so good,” you whisper, biting your lip, “Feels so good, Din.” 

“Mm-hm,” he nods and looks back at you. “You’re so beautiful.” 

Bracing yourself on his chest with your palms flat against him, you start to move. Instead of thrusting or bouncing, at first you just grind, swaying your hips in circular motions over his cock. It hits against that spot inside you with each circle, and somehow it feels like he’s going deeper than ever before, the tip of him a constant pressure against your cervix. It’s not rough like it usually is, and yet it feels just as good. 

One of his hands finds your clit and works it in time with your movements. Heat is already burning inside you, starting between your legs and smouldering up into your stomach and ribcage. You’re losing yourself in your pleasure in an instant, your eyes falling shut as you work yourself on him. 

Each grind lifts him in and out of you just a little, just enough for both of you to have some much-needed friction against your walls. But you’re still going round in circles, and it feels so fucking good, having him swirling inside you like this, coating every inch of you on the inside. 

“Fuck,” you curse in a whisper, one hand lifting from his chest to grasp at your breast. You squeeze it, remembering how your nipple felt inside his mouth. “Fuck, Din, that’s so good.” Your eyes are closed again, head tipped back towards the sky.

“Yeah?” He says. “You look so perfect. Take what you need, Cyar’ika, you can have it.” 

You’re too lost in pleasure to respond. It’s not even sparking, it’s burning, boiling, running over you in a hot wave over and over and over again. He’s so hot inside you, the contrast of his heat to the coolness of your skin just setting everything alight. The head of his cock is pushing against the highest point inside you, just like you like it, but instead of a fast, unrelenting beat, it’s stroking, so slow with each circle your hips make. His finger is still on your clit, so much slower than usual. In rhythm with your movements like he’s just going off of whatever makes you feel good.

“Kriff, Din, baby…your cock feels so good, I’ve never…it’s never been…” 

“Feels good to me, too, baby,” he promises you. 

When you open your eyes, he’s gazing up at you with such adoration, such universe-shattering perspective, that you could swear you see Galaxies in his eyes. Galaxies that you have yet to find, that you want to dive into and never leave. 

“I love you,” you whisper, leaning down so that your damp hair falls around his face, frames him like the piece of art that he is. 

His hand comes off of your hip and reaches out, stroking back a strand of hair. He rubs your cheek. His mouth is open and his breath is hot against your lips. “I love you,” he says back. His voice is raspy, low, so fucking perfect. “You look so good like this. Just using me to make yourself feel good. I’m so deep inside you, Cyar’ika, feels so good…just want to stay like this forever…” 

You nod, desperate, and lean in to kiss him messily. “So deep,” you breathe into his mouth, “so fucking deep inside me, kriff, filling me up so good, Din, you just fit…” 

His hand finds the back of your neck and holds you to him. The new angle brings the pleasure inside you to a new level; you’re leaning forward and down over him, and his cock is heavy, almost pulling at your walls as you continue to grind around and around and up and down. He’s pressing his thumb to your clit, his fingers closed around the flesh near your hip, holding tight. Holy kriff, it feels so fucking good, all hot and beautiful and just pleasurepleasurepleasure—

“Din,” you gasp, “gonna come…” 

“Come for me, Mesh’la, please, I need it…need to feel you come around me like this, so good…” 

Bracing yourself on his chest, you keep yourself at that lower angle and chase your pleasure, feeling it coiling low in your belly first but soon exploding through your entire body. It’s a flame, a roaring fire, a wave of lava through your veins. 

“Ride it out, baby,” Din tells you, and you do, you ride him until the drop comes and you’re just chasing it, chasing that high, wanting it to last forever. Wanting to be here forever, in this moment, just the two of you. Beneath the moon. Din inside you, as deep as he’s ever been. So fucking good it’s like you’ve never felt it before. 

“Oh, fuck, Din,” you pant as you come down, your aftershocks pulsing around his cock. You can’t even say that you came hard. Because it was the furthest thing to violence you’ve ever felt; it was soft but sudden and beautiful but terrifying. “Din, kriff, I love—I love you—”

His hips are starting to stutter. Like they want to thrust, but he’s holding himself back. 

You plant your elbows on either side of his head and lean down to kiss him. “Come in me,” you tell him, “please. Use me, fuck me. You made me feel so good, want you to feel the same too.” 

He strokes your cheek with his thumb. “You sure? You’re not too sensitive?” 

You shake your head. “Feels so good still. Please, wanna feel you, baby.” 

He nods, and starts to move. He shifts so his feet are planted firmly on the ground behind you, knees bent a little and pressing into your back. The hand on your clit moves and instead sits behind him on the floor so he can sit up and use it to prop himself there. Your body follows him, leaning back as he leans up. His breath is so hot on your face, your hair falling against his damp cheeks. 

You push it away, kiss his mouth. “Fuck me, baby,” you tell him, “feels so good.” 

Using his hand and both feet for leverage, he starts to thrust. Slow at first, testing the waters. His face falls in ecstasy, a broken moan leaving his lips and falling onto yours. You hold his face in both your hands, anchor him to you. 

“That’s it,” you praise, “fuck me just how you want. Come for me, Din, I wanna feel you. You’re so perfect, I love you…” it feels like it’s going to be hard to ever stop saying that. 

“I love you, Mesh’la,” he says, and it’s the last coherent thing he manages before he starts to thrust harder into you, finding a good rhythm. It’s not as rough as it’s been before—it would be pretty hard, in this position and out here on the wet grass—but it’s just perfect. He still hits the highest point inside of you, even guides your hips to do the circle thing again, like he knows that’s what feels good for you. 

It does. Kriff, it’s just as good as it was before. The aftershocks are already turning into new desire, heat bubbling low again. You bring one of your hands from his face and press on your clit. Fuck, fuck, fuck, it’s so good.

It takes you by surprise. You gasp, pulling your head back and tipping it, granting him access to your neck; access that he makes full use of, immediately leaning in and attaching his mouth to your skin. 

“Oh, fuck, Din,” you almost laugh at the feeling because it’s so unbelievably good and you’re probably going to come again and it’s so soon after the last one and you weren’t expecting it—“Fuck! Din! Baby, feels so fucking good like this…” your tits bounce against his chest, almost pressed completely into him. 

He’s mouthing at your neck and his thrusts are getting faster, more urgent. “Baby…I think I’m going to…” 

“Come for me,” you request to the stars. “Please, Din, come inside my pussy.” 

That does it for him. 

He spills inside you, his chest heaving with desperate whimpers and moans and breaths that sound like something from a different realm, panted into your neck and against your shoulder—

Then you’re coming, too, clenching around him so hard that it almost hurts. Your thighs are burning from holding yourself up, the pleasure coursing through you only adding to the strain in your muscles. But it feels so fucking good. He feels so good, chasing his orgasm for as long as he can, fucking up into you as if it’s what he was put in this Galaxy to do.

“Oh, baby…” Din says as he starts to come down. He’s kissing your neck again, all wet and messy and lazy. His hands slide up your body. Caress you like you’re something precious, a map he wishes to memorise. Eventually they settle on your back, his palms pressing into your shoulder blades. 

You realise, then, that this is the first time he’s seen you while you’ve done this. Seen all of you. Nothing separating his eyes from your scars, your stretch marks, every insecurity you’ve ever had. 

It feels earth-shattering and unimportant at the same time. Because it’s a big step, it’s huge, something you never thought you’d have with anyone, ever. But it’s also…right. Din isn’t looking at you or holding you any differently. He sees more of you than just that, and it doesn’t matter. 

You’re breathless at the realisation. Even more so, when you realise that it actually feels really fucking good to be naked with him like this. To have nothing separating you. 

Your lips meet after a moment. He kisses you so softly, so tenderly. Your hands tangle in his hair, feeling the lingering wet from the waterfall. You think about saying something, about telling him how good that was, about how much you love having him like this; you think about saying I love you one more time, just for good measure. 

But the words won’t come. Instead, you just press your forehead to his, let your breaths mingle in the humid air between you. You’re both still panting. His cock is twitching inside you, probably a little overstimulated as your walls continue to pulse and beckon him further in. But he never pulls out too soon. Even if it’s too much for him. 

He holds you like that, staying inside you beneath the moons, the sound of rushing water and wildlife all around you. He holds you like he knows. Like he knows how you feel, and wants you to know that he feels the same, too.

If you could, you’d stay like this forever. And yet, even a moment will do.

notes: ahhhh i'm so sorry for the long wait.

i can't believe we've only got 2 chapters left. the last 2 are some of my favourites so i'm excited for y'all to read them! thank you for being here as always, i know it's been such a long time. please do leave a comment if you can, and reblogs are always appreciated <3 love u <3

taglist:

@toobsessedsstuff @granillx @keepingitlokiii @shoe1412 @quentinor @yourunstablegf @moonknight-s-cumdump @senassn @samanthacookieone @local-fanfic-addict @your-slutty-gf @whenpugzfly @elsasshole @moony-toasts @julesjewelss36 @mxlsmith @indec1sive @lordhavemurthy

@booktvmoviefangirl @brokenghostgirl1@competitivedust@lostinsideourminds@gloryekaterina@uncle-eggy@astronymity@leithatnight@domaniquessidehoe@dancealongthelightofday-blog@loveslide@peqchsoup@jaguarthecat@starrynightsforever@djarinxore@rexamongthestars@babygirlrex0504@dindjarindude@prentissluvr@hotchie360@beskarandblasters@space-cowboy-like-me

[teawizard]

Hi, it’s Foggy, unfortunately tumblr still hasn’t given me the ability to send asks from my side blog so I’m doing it on anon. But! I want to know what “It Takes A Village To Build A House This Fucking Enormous” is about? Amazing title!

Hi! You uh you probably should get a notification when I answer the ask even if you ask anonymously, but I'll tag you just to be safe @foggyfanfic

Delighted to tell you about It Takes A Village To Build A House This Fucking Enormous! (Long titles always make me laugh cause they look and sound kind of silly which is the point of my writing - to be silly)

Agustín's and Felix's families' houses are full and they can't host more people after the Casita's fall. This leaves the Madrigals with the unfortunate prospect of living with Bruno and his family in their small and creepy but fairly empty house. What a great opportunity to build a new foundation both for the family's relationships and the family's house! Let's watch how they all adjust to leaving in a cramped space together while trying and somewhat failing to manage the Encanto without their powers to help.

This fic follows immediately after Incomplete Madrigal (which is an alternative to the event of Encanto) and starts with the first day the Madrigals spend with Bruno's family in their house.

The story's idea stems from two things I had in mind:

I wanted Mirabel to get to know her relatives

My family's pretty big and since we live in different countries we don't really interact for years and hearing my closest family discussing things and gossiping about the relatives I know nothing about is pretty fun especially when some of the facts and relations come together in my mind. I wanted to convey this feeling through Mirabel since we had a bit of that in the original movie when Madrigals (and the village) were 'not talking' about Bruno (I imagine people simply didn't talk about him in front of the kids).

2. Encanto is pretty big and a process involving a lot of people has infinite comedic potential

I refuse to believe that the Encanto is easy to manage and I loved the bits in your Encanto fics where Alma and other Madrigals had to deal with annoying or plainly awful villagers. Kinda wish Alma could banish any villager she doesn't vibe with like in Animal Crossing;

I want to see the chaos that the rebuilding of Casita might've been. I want to see all the complications of building a huge house without the magic people got pretty much used to and without the factories providing them with the building materials. I mean, would they have to make a distinct kind of roof tiles for Casita?? Imagine the amount of roof tiles that is and what if they would have to remake them all if something in them doesn't 'feel like Casita'.

And I want to see some funny misunderstandings and mistakes that could set them farther from finishing the rebuilding (like making a completely wrong shade of paint or running out of bricks idk, I'd have to do a more proper research).

It's gonna be basically a sitcom-like thing with some family bonding. I hope haha

I haven't really written much but here's the piece I like:

"For the last time, please, go to bed," Daniela asked someone and deeply sighed. Then Bruno heard someone quietly, but assertively protesting. "I understand you, but you are guests here. And guests in this house should be asleep at 4 in the morning," Daniela pressed. "I will make breakfast. Go rest, please," he almost didn't catch the last few words as Daniela went into the kitchen. Someone weakly argued back and then shuffled towards the workshop, where Bruno resided. "Bruno, good morning. Please, tell your wife to let me cook for the family," Julieta’s sharp voice made him wake up completely. He saw his sister appear in the doorway, hands on her hips, staring at him with irritation. That was unusual, but he gave up comparing the past to the present at this point.

Thanks so much for asking!

[myheartalivewrites]

20 questions for fic writers

Thanks for tagging me @bitbybitwrites @kiwiana-writes @cha-melodius I continue to be emotionally withholding from my WIPs so this was a fun little distraction.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

15 and I realised tomorrow is the anniversary of the first fic I ever posted! Might do a little celebration post about it.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

259,263!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Red, White & Royal Blue ❤️🤍💙

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Confirming the mad recency bias in RWRB fics, they are all my most recent fics, all published from August onwards with the exception of the last one, hospital cupboard hook-up fic my beloved:

Deep Blue

In His Wildest Dreams

Just Like That.

Oxford Days

Tumbled Down and Tangled Up

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! Comments are the best thing about ao3 and pretty much the only reason to post my stuff online! I feel boring sometimes, like I'm replying the same thing over and over, but it is SO true that every single comment means so much to me and I hope commenters know that

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

I don't do unhappy endings. The closest I've come to not a HEA is Don't Wanna Be A Fool For You which is still a happy ending lol, but I didn't go into the future and left them only JUST beginning to recover from all the angst

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

Oh, tricky to decide this. I'm gonna go with Down By The Water, simply because I go deep, DEEP into their happily ever after in the epilogue (it is 12k of a 63k fic which should give you an idea of just HOW deep), even though it’s still quite… yearn-y.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, though I did get some intense emotional responses to a few chapters of Deep Blue, which... well, they were supposed to hurt, but it was A LOT. Never have I used the 😬 emoji that much.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Hah, yes. A lot of it. All but one of my fics are E and even that one has got a smutty end scene I didn't publish and might post around the holidays. A Christmas treat for a Christmas fic! I'm not sure what 'what kind' is really supposed to mean here, so: very explicit but always emotionally relevant to the story, and particular in long fics I like to use the, ahem, smut progression to show how their feelings and the relationship is deepening.

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

No

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know 😬 Only tumblr posts 🙄

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Oooh, someone asked me if they could translate Deep Blue to Spanish, so I'm excited to see that (but it is 76k so it might be a while)! That would be my first though.

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

No

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Oh, firstprince, no doubt. Alex and Henry have my heart.

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

I absolutely REFUSE to say I won't finish something. I plan to finish all my WIPs.

16. What are your writing strengths?

This is hard to answer, but I think I'm good at building tension, both in the overall story developments, but also within paragraphs and scenes, playing with sentence length etc. At the very least I like how I do that!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Yikes, pulling no punches. Sometimes I get bored of writing all the 'getting to know you' dialogue, and get fed up of writing banter. It’s the kind of thing that tends to get me blocked on a WIP. I find it quite hard, possibly because Alex and Henry banter so much it feels like it's all been done before. Oh, here’s Star Wars! Oh, your dog’s name is stupid! Etc etc.

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

Love it. I have one WIP currently which has some French dialogue, and my French is middling at best, so I'm going to have to ask for help with it, but I'm not there yet.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

RWRB ❤️

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

IMPOSSIBLE QUESTION. I reserve the right to change this answer, but right now it's Down By The Water, I literally fell asleep last night wishing I had time to go reread it.

Phew, that was a lot! No pressure tagging a few friends who might want to play: @indomitable-love @historicallysam @14carrotghoul @cultofsappho @celaestis1 @suseagull04 @heybuddy-drabbles but open tag if you too wan to join!

[hookaroo]

Laden of the Torn (9 of 25)

AO3 link Catch up on tumblr: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Tagging @priscilla9993 @cocohook38 <3 Chapter 9 warning: Discussions of death & the fear of losing loved ones

***

9 months ago…

Stashed among the countless books and scrolls that made up the tower’s extensive library, one folded piece of parchment contained a hand-sketched map of Neverland.

Not the real thing, of course: Killian had burned that wretched rag stained with far too much blood, filth, and despair the moment he’d managed to finally free himself of that cursed place. Its successor--a much-censored, overly positive version created more from imagination than memory--served as a visual backdrop to the fanciful tales he would concoct whenever Alice asked of his history there. She knew vaguely of the island’s dangers, and the tribe of feral children posing the greatest of its threats, but this map and its accompanying adventure stories painted more a vision of a tropical paradise than the jungles of Hell that it truly was.

Alice sat perusing that map now, idly outlining wave shapes in a blue far more bright and beautiful than any the moonlit, eternal night could ever produce. Nearby, Killian was attempting to mend a beloved doll that had fallen victim to an excessively enthusiastic game of Alice’s own creation. The seams had been stitched so many times through the years that it seemed to be composed more of leftover threads of all types than the fabric of its origin. Alice still played with it though, and any source of comfort was worth preserving for as long as possible.

“Papa?” Alice began. 

“Mmhmm?” Killian replied, mentally preparing for a trip to Fantasy-Neverland that hopefully wouldn’t include a detour through Memory-Neverland on the way out.

“Do you think that Captain Smee would ever return to Neverland, if he could find the way there again?”

Killian hid a smirk and pulled on a carefully placed thread to tighten the knot. “I very much doubt it, Starfish. Captain Smee has always been… rather a timid man at heart. I think he prefers to stick to the familiar tides of this land, and keep the wilds of Neverland safely tucked away in memory.”

“But… didn’t you once say that the reason he snuck aboard the Jolly Roger in the first place was to steal a magic bean so that he could trade it for immortality?”

Raising an eyebrow, Killian looked up in surprise. “You have a very good memory, love.”

“And you told me that no living thing in Neverland ever grows old.”

“True…”

“So if he truly wants to live forever, all he needs to do is to go back! I hope he does. Then when we get out of this tower, maybe you and I could go there too, Papa!”

She could not know the icy terror that gripped his soul at the thought, nor of the visions that sometimes haunted his hours both waking and sleeping… his exact worst nightmare, innocently longed for in such a casual manner. Heart suddenly pounding, Killian swallowed the sickening dread constricting his throat and presented as calm a demeanor as he could muster.

“Aren’t you forgetting one not-so-small detail?”

“Am I?”

“Surely I must have mentioned a certain horrid little boy who makes Neverland his home. An eternity in his domain is hardly the paradise you’re imagining it to be.”

“Oh.” Alice looked crestfallen, and though Killian always hated disappointing her, he could not stop the wave of relief from coursing through him when it seemed she had accepted his objection. Adding one final stitch to the doll’s ragged seam, he was quick to assure her,

“There are dozens of other beautiful places I’ll take you one day, Alice, where we’ll have adventures much more exciting than we could ever find on that godsforsaken refuse heap. Remember? The Sea of Glass, and Rainbow Falls, and the purple cliffs where the goats climb right up the vertical rock faces…”

He trailed off when he heard a miserable sniffle from his little girl. She was staring down at the tabletop, obviously not seeing the map laid out before her as she quietly wiped away tears. Hastily, he severed the thread and laid it aside, then moved to kneel at her side. He placed the doll in her lap and reached up to stroke the hair back from her face.

“Alice? What is it, love?

She sniffed again, met his eyes briefly, then looked away.

There were periods of time when her circumstances got the better of her, and understandably so. Killian had always done his best to console her, but it would never truly be all right until he could free her from this damned tower. And the more she grew up, the heavier the burden was for both of them.

“I’m sorry, Starfish; it must be frustrating to hear of wondrous places without the ability to see them yet. But I promise you will someday; you’ve just got to keep--”

“You’re going to die one day, aren’t you?”

The tiny voice took Killian by surprise, and he fell silent. This wasn’t at all where he had thought the conversation was heading. It made sense in hindsight, though. She wasn’t asking about Neverland for the adventures, or for immortality for Smee… it was all about Killian’s mortality.

“Oh, Alice…” He pulled her into his chest, wrapping her tightly in his arms. Gently, he murmured, “I don’t want you to be worrying about that, love. Not for a long, long time. You have enough to think about.”

Alice squeezed him back, shaking with sobs and saying,

“I don’t want you to die, Papa, not ever! I love you so much I think I would die too!” She pulled away and scrubbed at her face, continuing in one long, hysterical breath. “I couldn’t bear to live without you--I don’t care about Pan; if we went to Neverland, then we could be together forever!”

Killian watched her for a beat, unconsciously stroking her hair as his heart broke. He understood exactly how she felt; he would give anything to ensure he’d never be separated from her, as well. But there was an additional element to her anticipatory grief. Once he was gone, if she were still trapped here, she would be completely alone, probably for the rest of her life. It was too horrible to even imagine. And here he was, pretending like he didn’t constantly think about what would become of her if something should happen to him.

Tenderly, Killian covered her hands with his, willing her to feel how overwhelmingly powerful his love was for her.

“It isn’t easy,” he admitted quietly, “thinking about losing someone you care for. I feel much the same way about you. And sadly, part of what makes life so special is its brevity. But you can’t let that overshadow or take away from the time that you do have with your loved ones.”

He reached up to wipe a tear from her cheek, feeling his own eyes brimming. “I hold on to a piece of everyone I’ve loved: my mother, my brother… Milah… after each loss, there were days when I felt like I couldn’t go on. But you know what? I’m so very glad I did. Because that brought me to the greatest joy in my life.”

Killian waited until Alice tentatively met his gaze, and he confirmed her unasked question with a watery, adoring grin. She could not resist a shaky half-smile in response. Killian embraced her again, planted a soft kiss on the top of her head, then rested back into his crouch, watching her compose herself. After one final hand across her eyes, Alice mumbled,

“Thank you, Papa.”

“I love you, Alice.” 

He got slowly to his feet, stifling any outward sign that his joints were not quite as young as they used to be, then added,

“Try to stop worrying, love. I plan to be around for quite a long time yet.”

***

Less than a month later,

“I plan to be around…” echoed through his head as ten paces were marked and two bullets flew.

“Quite a long time yet…” rang in his ears as he collided with the tower wall, a new and deadly pain coursing through the center of his chest.

“A long time…” mocked him as melancholy rain drenched him, body and spirit, and evil laughter gave way to devastated wailing from on high.

“A long time…” continued to destroy him now with its meaningless, endless promise, as hope and resources dwindled.

What a fool he had been.

***

Present Day…

Killian woke with an ache in his throat and chest: a common occurrence these days. Apparently, despite his resolution to make use of the alone time, he had fallen asleep instead. He rubbed his eyes and scoured the clearing for any sign of Blackbeard, but the other man had not yet returned. 

He should conserve his strength, try and rest some more and prepare for whatever ordeals lay ahead. But there was only one thing that could begin to soothe the pain of the familiar nightmare-flashback he’d just experienced, and he knew he owed it to Alice to make the attempt as well. This was the longest he’d gone without connecting ever since he’d acquired the mirror, and the worry would be eating her alive. So, despite the danger and the various pains afflicting him, Killian finished freeing himself from the ropes and forced himself up to retrieve Blackbeard’s unattended satchel. 

No hook, of course; no weapons of any kind, or even any food. Killian was immensely relieved to find his black rook near the bottom, which he stashed in an inside pocket closest his heart. But Blackbeard had taken everything else of value, leaving only a few first aid supplies and other odds and ends… one of which was Killian’s mirror, blessedly intact despite its careless treatment. With mild surprise, he noted that the ceremonial cloth once containing bread remnants now protected the mirror’s glass face, somehow counted amongst his possessions recovered from the quarry transport guards. Maybe the rumors of its mystical powers were indeed true… and he was finally about to put it all to the test.

After stashing the dusty cloth back into the satchel, Killian grasped the mirror’s handle and drew a few calming breaths.

“Alice?” he called quietly. “Are you there, love?”

Her likeness materialized almost immediately, as if she’d been expecting him to call.

“Papa!” she cried in tremulous delight. “Are you all right? I’ve been so worried!”

The cursed tingle in his heart told him all he needed to know. That sickening mold residue, another failure of a lead--this one costing him dearly, its total sum yet to be determined. Killian tried not to let his disappointment show as he gave her a reassuring smile.

“I’m okay, but I haven’t got long. I just wanted to make sure--”

A distant oath sounded from somewhere beyond the twist in the canyon, and Killian froze for an instant. Then, hastily, he hissed,

“I’m sorry, Starfish; I need to go, but I’ll try again as soon as I’m able.”

“Hook? Who is that you’re talking to?”

Killian still could not see Blackbeard, but that villain had to be close. He lunged for the satchel and, over Alice’s muffled protests, he thrust the mirror back into its hiding place just as his red-clad captor sauntered into view. 

Then he remembered what the sorcerer had told him about the enchantment: both parties had to agree to the connection being severed. And, judging by the continuing prickle beneath his breastbone and the quiet sounds emanating from the satchel, Alice had not been willing to let her father go so quickly.

“What the devil are you up to?” sneered Blackbeard. He tossed the waterskins carelessly on the ground and stumbled over to menace Killian.

“It’s nothing, mate; only searching for a bit of food is all. I’m completely famished.”

Blackbeard snorted. “Well, that makes a change. No more heaving your guts out, then?”

He cocked his head, listening, and Killian answered quickly and too loudly.

“It looks as if you were at least successful at locating water? If you want me to make it to the genie monkeys, you’ll have to be a bit more generous than you're accustomed to--”

“Shhh!” hissed Blackbeard, holding up a hand. Without pause, Killian said,

“What are you listening to? I don’t hear anything, and we should probably get a move on if we’re to make any progress before sundown--”

It didn’t work. Blackbeard lunged for the satchel, and though Killian made a feeble attempt to keep it from him, the bigger man easily tore it from his grasp. Killian clambered to his feet, desperate to stop what he knew was coming.

Blackbeard immediately zeroed in on the noise-making mirror, and he let the satchel and the rest of its contents fall to the ground.

“Papa?” squeaked Alice, and Blackbeard leered.

“What’s this? That the child you abandoned?”

Killian took a step forward, hand outstretched, feeling like he was moving through mud. “Blackbeard… please…”

“Oops.”

Blackbeard laughed loudly. The mirror “slipped” from his fingers. Killian dove for it. Alice’s frightened image flipped around and around in midair. The ball and chain hampered Killian’s lunge. His fingertips just brushed glass before it shattered on the razor stones. Alice’s voice cut abruptly to silence.

Breathing heavily, Killian sat on his knees and stared at the remnants of his only link with his daughter. Even if he managed to escape and find his way back to the sorcerer who had arranged the enchantment, he could not afford to pay the exorbitant price a second time, not without considerable effort… or risking additional imprisonment by doing something illicit. “Blackbeard… you… bastard!”

Unconcerned, Blackbeard chided,

“You may want to be careful throwing that term around, considering…”

Killian seethed, still watching the shimmering halo of glass shards as if they could somehow reassemble themselves on their own. “That was her only connection to the outside world!”

“And whose fault is that, really? I’m not the one who trapped her there, nor the father foolish enough to go and get his heart cursed so she’s left with no one. Frankly, I’m surprised you’ve managed to live with the guilt for this long.”

Blackbeard bent down and scooped the few scattered supplies back into his satchel, then flung the strap over his shoulder. “Taking you to the monkeys is a kindness. They’ll quickly put you out of your misery.”

None-too-gently, he draped one of the waterskins over his captive’s shoulder and dragged him to his feet. Then he reached for the mirror’s empty frame. Killian glared daggers at him as he turned it over once in his hand.

“Glue in a bit of cheap, ordinary glass and it will fetch a copper or two,” said Blackbeard. He stuffed the frame in with the rest of his belongings, then hauled up the remaining skin of water and took a large swig. Noting the hatred in Killian’s stare, he rolled his eyes and waved at the waterskin Killian was holding, encouraging him to drink.

“The girl has my sympathies,” he remarked mildly. “But not my allegiance. And a broken mirror won’t matter in the slightest once you become the monkeys’ main course.”

In truth, Killian was nearly as angry at himself for being so reckless as he was at Blackbeard for callously destroying the enchanted mirror. But even so, the wanton cruelty of the act filled him with loathing.

“You will regret making an enemy of me,” he snarled. Blackbeard only scoffed.

“Empty threats. Never heard those before.” He once again pointed to Killian’s water. “Now drink up. We’ve a long way to go before nightfall.”

[sege-h]

Thoughts on the State of Play reveal

Under a readmore just in case

1- I know I said I'd keep the Son*dow tag blocked for a bit after Prime ended but I think I'll keep it blocked till the end of the year now lmao

2- I know the rumor has been going around since yesterday but I took it with a grain of salt since it's. Yknow. A rumor. But even when I let myself think 'what if its real tho' this is SO FAR FROM WHAT I EXPECTED. A!!! I thought at most we'd get is a remaster that'd also make Shadow playable! As soon as I saw the new level I was like WAIT WHAT. WAIT WHAT!!?!? and it just kept going from there!!!

I'm so happy we'll be getting a HD biolizard fight! He'll no longer be contained to the 3DS! Also from what little we saw Shadow will get to have some dynamic posing in the boss fights, like Super Sonic did in Frontiers. Good! I loved those!

3- Ian Flynn has #KnowingSmile'd the announcement and I'm hoping this means he got to write for whatever new content there is.

And speaking of Frontiers! I'm hoping that this ends up being Shadow's 'Frontiers' moment. In that his writing and character get what Amy's, Tails', and Knuckles' did in Frontiers.

4-I had the stream off to the side in another tab since I wasn't interested in most of what was shown. And then I heard the first few notes of the Generations music and i immediately switched tabs and I just!!! Feel like I did in 2011 except my computer/internet is way better, and you tube is shittier!

5- I'm excited for this for such Me reasons. For those new here- I live in a country that had no Sonic stuff for...well, never, really. Not until about 2022. The second movie did what I'd hoped the first movie would do (but then the pandemic happened) and brought over Sonic stuff here. For the first time in my life I went to a toy store here and it had Sonic stuff. I got to buy physical Sonic comics for the first time. For the first time in my life I can go to a video game store and actually see Sonic games there. It's been wild

That being said, 2011 had Nothing. Sonic Generations came out. And I didn't want to pirate it because a friend of mine had worked on it. I was determined to find it. And I only saw it irl one time- for the Playstation. A console I've never had. It was pretty upsetting! I remember posting about it here even....I've been on tumblr too long SHDGSHDHS

Later I'd find that there was a 3DS version. I have that! So I looked for that version of it alongside the PC one

So, for almost a decade, I looked, to no avail. And for this whole time I refused to look at any playthroughs! Any knowledge I had on whats in the game came from the trailers we saw

And then in 2019 my best friend helped me buy the 3DS version. I had 9 dollars on my 3DS and whenever the game went on sale it'd be on for 10 dollars. So he gave me a dollar and helped me get it SHDGSHDH

So I finally experienced Generations! It was surprise after surprise in that one, because I knew it was different but I didn't know how. I didn't expect a Rush level in it, or for the Biolizard to be in there!

And then in late 2020 when I got my new computer and could finally get steam, another close friend got me Generations for the PC! I'd somehow managed to dodge spoilers on it all those years so all I knew about it was: Theres Green Hill, Chemical Plant, City Escape, and a Silver boss fight.

I got to play modern City Escape for myself- which is the level that inspired the current iteration of my main OC, Storm. It was a joy

All this rambling to say...it's wild to think that once this remaster comes out, I'll be able to get it day 1, at least I hope I will. Still-it won't take me almost a decade to get to it

And if there's a physical release? I'll be able to go to a store here- HERE, not in one of our neighboring countries, not from somewhere else, but in a store here. Right across the street. And I'll finally have a physical copy of Generations. That was my final goal with the game-- I love it, I have two versions of it! And the plan was always that even though I'd gotten to play them now, if I ever ran into a physical copy of the game, I'd buy it. And now I'll really get to do it

6- Bonus thought of me being silly: Wowow my OC was shown at the State of Play--

[forsakenruin]

#𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍   —   an  independent  ,    private  ,    &    semi-selective    FANDOMLESS    original  character  ;  𝓶𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓱 𝓬𝓻𝓸𝓯𝓽   :   daughter of world-renowned tomb raider ,  member of the secret society   DAUGHTERS OF ARTEMIS   ,  &  on the run treasure hunter .   |   est.  in  april  ,    2023  .    all  fandoms  are  welcome  to  interact    &    are  highly  encouraged  to  !!    rated  21+  .    minors  DNI  .    extremely  low  activity  currently  .    written  by  R.Z.  (  she/her  ,    25+  )  .

𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐍   —   navigating hostile environments when you’re just a child ,  enemies wearing the face of a motherly figure ,  refusing to let history repeat itself ,  taking control of your own life  &  survivor’s GUILT .

[ CARRD . ] tba

[ DOC . ] tba

[ INTEREST TRACKER . ] tba

[ LINKS ] prompts . character study . headcanons . wishlisht .

blogroll .

@gunchamber / krissy chambers , spn based muse , medium activity , partially uses icons

@hdgcrft / devon ambrose , oc witch , extremely low activity , rarely uses icons

@forsakenruin / micah croft , lara croft's daughter oc , extremely low activity , might not use icons

Hi ! Welcome to my new OC blog , thank you for stopping by . I'm on the EST & i've recently come back to this hellsite after a nearly 9 year long break from writing . Lou from @tobeblamed unintentionally inspired me to come back so here i am !! i hope we can have fun & write together .

This blog is pretty much friendly everything !! I'm open to everything & i hope you will be the same . I won't tolerate hate of any kind , this is my blog . my space that i curate as a positive hub for me to escape my real life for a bit . i won't allow for it to be dulled . so be nice, just be a good egg !!

I will be on my main rp account most days !! ( @gunchamber ) so activity here will probably be sporadic . i also work a full time job unfortunately . i also believe i'm undiagnosed ADHD so i could very well be here shitposting but not replying to things , so patience is appreciated. please don't rush me on replies . if it's been a while feel free to shoot me a message to remind me , but continuous heckling will cause me to not want to write with you . i'll ask you politely once , if you continue then i will unfollow .

I am loosely a mutuals only rp blog , i'm only semi-selective . i also rarely follow first , and it's not me being a snob it's me being a pansy ass bitch that has social anxiety . if you see that we have the same mutuals , then i probably have already lurked your blog and i'm waiting to make the first move . it could be within thirty seconds of discovering you or several weeks . i am trash i know . i'm sorry .

the best ways to reach out and get things started is sending me some memes or tagging me in a starter !! if you are more into plotting , and we are mutuals send me an IM or ask for my discord !! i LOVE plotting some background for our muses to have a connection it's my favorite part !!

Shipping . it's one of those things that back then i would be like , shipping with all the muses that mine interacts with . but now i really enjoy and appreciate even the non-romantic relationships my muse gets into . i enjoy the slow build of our muse and based on their chemistry we will see if things become romantic!! world building and plotting is beautiful like that isn't it ?

Soft Blocking is new to me, but i like the concept . with that being said , if you soft block me and i end up refollowing you . i'm not doing it with ill intent or out of spite , i would just think something with tumblr happened that made me unfollow you . i apologize in advance .

[justagalwhowrites]

woooo okay i'm going to try and not make this annoyingly long

1. tumblr still personally hates me and refuses to tag me in yearling (possibly biphobic on their part)

2. i desperately need to sit down and read yearling because i keep catching random chapters and then i'll start reading them as if i have any idea what's happening, which brings me to #3

3. i just read chapter 16 (im not immune to justagalwhowrites' smut) and HOLY across every fandom i've ever been in, this was the first time i've ever read something in a fic where a character has scarring in the pubic area? and as someone who relates to that it made me cry a lil i'm not even gonna lie to you rn 😭 not only is having scarring there inherently traumatic (not even taking into account how you got it, be it skin condition/abuse/fgm/etc.) but it's also traumatic to have to tell/show other partners about it since people are mean as fuck these days!! it was v refreshing to see someone (joel) be assuring and even non-chalant to a degree! i've had people think i was gonna give them cooties or smth hdkdjdkdnkfd it truly was representation i didn't know i needed and i just wanted to thank you 🥹

ok i'll read yearling now fr

OMG Hi Bestie!

How have you been?? I hope you're doing well!!!!

Tumblr is MEAN! If you want, you can subscribe to my updates blog and subscribe to updates. I reblog a new chapter when it goes up but that's it, I won't spam you :)

I hope you love Yearling as you read it! There's still a lot more left to go and I can't wait for it!!

I'm so happy that you felt represented (and hopefully loved and beautiful) after chapter 16 and I'm so sorry if someone has been cruel to you because of that. They clearly aren't worthy of you in all your kind loveliness! You deserve someone who recognizes how wonderful you are, scars and all, and I'm glad you were able to see yourself in this fic <3

Thank you for being here and reaching out! Love you!!!

[bumblebee-be]

First Ten Lines Game

Rules: Post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to ao3. if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

this is so fun thank you for the tag @buddiefication!! i have 34 works and 22 of those are 9-1-1 fics, so here’s the last 10! (not including my collection of tumblr ficlets)

1. i need somebody to pull me out of this grave

Buck!

He didn’t know yet. He didn’t know that Buck was already dead, that yelling wouldn’t do any good. The first shout cracked open something in his chest, spilling poison into his veins. It didn’t matter that he was injured too- he was moving. Buck wasn’t. Buck wasn’t moving.

2. lying to ourselves, acting like we're something else

Okay. Here’s the thing. Buck likes sex. It’s fun. He likes how it feels, he likes making other people feel good. He likes sex. He’s pretty good at sex, if his partner’s praises are to be believed. He doesn’t like it when things get complicated. So he tends toward casual hookups, one time things that he never has to deal with again. Except… okay. He’s good at sex. The aftermath? Not so much. 

3. all the pain i should have saved

Eddie thought Buck was canceling on them. The clock hits 5:55 and he hasn’t heard from Buck. He was supposed to get here around 6, sure, but Buck has never, ever , not been early for a family dinner. Ever . He usually texts Eddie when he’s heading over, but there’s been nothing. Not a text, not a call, not the familiar sound of the jeep pulling into Eddie’s driveway and Buck’s warm voice calling out as he lets himself in. 

4. crashing, i'm crashing right into you 

Buck planned on telling Eddie. Really, he did.  He was sitting in front of Conner and Kameron and hoping his smile looked real and thinking what am I gonna tell Eddie ? And then he was at the station a few days later and Hen was watching him and Eddie was venting about Chris and it became more about how can he possibly tell this to Eddie?

5. this is my family- it’s little and broken but still good

It starts with a movie night.

It’s not anything abnormal- Christopher tucked between Eddie and Buck while some Disney movie plays on the TV and Eddie tries to force himself to watch the screen rather than Buck and his son. He usually gives up before the movie is halfway done and allows himself the small luxury of simply watching as his son drifts further from him and curls deeper into Buck’s side.

6. make me a promise, tell me you'll stay 

If Eddie never sees Buck in another hospital bed again, it’ll be too soon.

He’s getting really, really sick of it, actually. Of riding in the back of the firetruck because Buck refuses to take an ambulance that “someone else might really need and, anyway, I’m fine .” Of Bobby’s hand on his shoulder, holding him back as the doctors take Buck away to do a more thorough exam, despite his protests of “ really , I’m fine , Hen and Chim already- Bobby, would you tell them I’m fine? Eddie, c’mon I don’t- guys , this is just unnecessary, seriously!” Of waiting to find out that this is the time. The time that Buck inhaled too much smoke, that he hit his head too hard, that his injuries from the fire truck had regressed.

7. can you hear me screaming (please don't leave me)

Eddie’s world shatters the moment Evan Buckley’s heart stops.

He’s standing just a few feet away, at the door to Evan’s hospital room, fist poised to knock on the door. He stands frozen as he watches the other nurses swarm around the bed, unable to move even as the doctors shove past him. There’s frantic chatter all around him, orders being shouted, instructions flying around the room. No one spares him a glance- he’s off shift. The voices fade to white noise, the only sound Eddie can hear is the monotonous beep of a flatline.

8. been here all along so, why can't you see?

Eddie doesn’t care that Buck’s dating other people. Really, he doesn’t. He’s proud of Buck for coming out and happy that he’s finally exploring what makes him happy. It just. It’s just. Buck apparently has really, really shitty taste. Like his taste in guys is somehow even worse than his taste in girls.

So, really, it’s not that Buck is dating someone that’s Not Eddie, it’s that he’s dating people that Eddie wants to punch in the face. That’s all. Because Eddie’s worried about Buck getting hurt. That’s it.

9. nothing the matter with a kiss

Eddie really has to learn to not drink when he’s with Buck. Purely because, well, when Eddie drinks it suddenly gets very, very difficult not to kiss Buck. Like, okay, it’s not that Buck’s like irresistible or anything- Eddie has some modicum of self control. But a few rounds in, when Buck’s eyes are sparkling with inebriation and he has the rose blush of being tipsy and his lips are pinker than normal, it’s suddenly extremely difficult for Eddie to look away. 

10. take my voice, i'm giving it though i don't feel safe at all

Buck can’t name this. He has no way to identify the thing that chokes him, that curls around his heart and squeezes , that floods his lungs and lies bitter on his tongue, that fogs his mind, that winds through his veins. He can’t name the beast anymore than he can name what releases it. It’s- simply put, sometimes the dam breaks. The walls he has carefully built up, the ones that hold the nameless monster at bay, they come crashing down. And they bring Buck with them. 

tagging @swiftiebuckleys @ajunerose and anyone else who wants to do this!