#so i wouldnt have to feel like ive ever in any way or shape or form enjoyed having a crush on a guy

[triptrippy]

do you have any tips for keeping faces consistent? i really envy your ability to do that in your art (i stare at your dunmesh expression sheets constantly) — i feel like i have eyes and face shapes down, and sometimes noses, but once the character turns at an odd angle it's all So Over. and im never sure how to approach someone facing front in a way that looks good, or still stylized! sorry if this is an odd question or one that is too taxing of your effort, and thank you for your time.

i feel honored to be asked! thank you for enjoying my stuff! drawing different angles is something im currently practicing/playing with a lot, so ill try to share what ive learned so far ill tell you how EYE attempt to keep my faces consistent, i break down my designs into parts in my head. i took a 3d modeling class years ago, which i think has helped a ton with being able to visualize things in a 3d space even if i hardly ever model anything anymore. ive also played a LOT of the sims over the years LOL

(this isnt what i do when i draw, but this hopefully shows what i do in my head when im thinking about face shapes and breaking them down and rearranging them when drawing a different angle) When i draw a character my headspace is "pose-able figure" and figures have solid shapes, so something that might help a lot is finding the definitive shape of your characters features and practicing what that simple shape would look like at weird angles. weird angles are fun. use 3d models with light sources that you can turn yourself and look at reference images of those features youre drawing from different angles. trace peoples heads at weird angles.

and heres my personal preference on drawing characters head on. an easy trick to drawing faces head on is to just flip half of the face to make the other. i wouldnt do this! all faces have an inherent asymmetry to them, so i never copy and flip unless its INTENTIONALLY flawless. make your head-on faces lopsided. i think it looks better personally.

dont know if this helps you but thats just what i could think of as far as how i Do things. just try to obsess over the beauty in shapes and look at references of real people and trace over 3d models and make a lot of bad art as quickly as you can. i love you

[tigerdrop]

Got any fun thoughts to share about Ford and Bill?

they drive me crazy dude. i have a lot to say about them so im putting it under a readmore

ive been billpilled for 1 million years dog. hes like the Blueprint. bills the perfect entity to me: terrifying shapeshifting demon who can slip into every corner of your mind and read all your thoughts and memories. and also hes a cartoon character with noodle arms and a cute shape. and hes a pathetic worm whos hung up on his human ex. and hes a funny little guy whos playful and mean and delights in tormenting you but juuuust enough so that he doesnt break you. Hes so awesome

like. listen. this isnt going to be a surprise if youve read literally anything ive ever written. but if bill possessed ford and slammed his hand in a car door and got a kick out of it and put him in a funny little outfit id be fine about it. ford was literally in a 24/7 freeuse lifestyle with him so why WOULDNT he

yeah im kind of a masochist. Why do u ask

put his ass in a horny neurotic guys body and see what happens. hit his dick with a cartoon mallet for fun. slap him around a little. feels cool and neat! like "human bodies are so responsive, huh" said while blanfords about to jam a fork into an outlet (thats my name for it btw. Im not looking it up)

what if i hurt you?? what if i dropped you??? Just kidding :-)

i dont know how much genuine sexual pleasure bill would get out of it so much as the thrill and novelty of a new human sensation but i think that could be fun in and of itself. jacking off with another guys body in a weirdly distant way like Haha Wow. Im getting kind of flustered here! (actively jamming a coke bottle into his pussy)

and the thing that really drives me crazy about ford is how much fetish shit he thinks about/makes inventions for/has inflicted upon him. i think in the series finale hes tied up like 3 fucking times. its insane. he wants to give up control of his body so fucking bad dude!!!!! (exhibit A: ford going limp like a kitten whenever hes picked up. it happens more than once.)

and theres even more contrived bondage bits in the deleted scenes! its maddening. hes an insane obsessive bdsm-lifestyling pervert and hes likethe ideal guy to match bills freak

hes soooo fucking easy. its so much fun to me. theres something really erotic about the way bill makes him feel special about his hands......like.......its naked flattery but its also kinda true. its weird. he likes weird shit. and ford falls for it soooo easy. drives me nuts

now walk with me. think about how easy that same interaction would transfer to ford being transgender. and your not allowed to get mad at me bc this is just my thing now

its so strange! kind of captivating. bills been around the block but the western conception of transmasculinity is so recent that for him it might as well be a blink of the eye. so i think it would be new to him. especially given when he actually makes a deal with ford. just another special thing about his special little guy. he *knew* there was something about ford

and to be frank i think that if you were a transmasc pervert in the 70s and a dream demon came along that understood you inside and out and can make all of your bizarre fantasies come true. well. you would have been fucking stupid not to fuck him

i need to read the book of bill so fucking bad bc the extra context of bill being super hung up on ford drives me CRAZY!!!! i love bitter lovestruck jerks. i love divorce. and i think they could and should hook up again. bad guys that are reluctantly forced to stop being so bad are so much fun and fords huge fucking ego didnt go anywhere. i think bill could convince ford to give him a second chance. at least just to hook up for old times sake

anyway. im making a bill itabag. Gotta go

[doyouremem8erme]

I just wanna let you know this blog feeds me marcy content even after the fandoms been dead and I can't be more thankful. GOD this show has such a special place in my heart, it really means a lot to know that there are still people who care about this series to the extent that I do. :)

I have many personal gripes on amphibia /LOVING, but mainly the missed potiental of a kids show by Disney that had to play back a lot of implications about the series to make it more palatable to the executives. I can't help but still respect that they got a way with a LOT, I also can't help but be sad there wasn't more darker scenes in s3 or for implications on true colors/the core/the girls grief as a whole. I can dream....,,,, that's why I live on fanfic and have a whole separate revised series in my head that I think of instead ❤️

Anyways I'm not really sure why I had the motivation to do this, I just think this blog is pretty great. I can't wait to hear more!

hehehe tysm!!! my hyperfixation got super suddenly reawakened right after i moved away to college and so im super nostalgic for the time i spent in this fandom back in high school now... this show really is closer to my heart than any other ive watched and i highly highly doubt ill ever feel the same way about any other show. it will always always be special to me. i said that abt other shows i hyperfixated on like steven universe but even that pales in comparison to what amphibia means to me!!! and marcy angst is ofc the best part of the fandom and i am not biased at all . these characters and their world are so incredible but tbh the fandom is even more special than the show. the true colors hiatus will always be incredibly nostalgic and idk if ill ever feel that same community in another fandom. hell i met my beloved partner of almost 3 years through this fandom and i see us lasting a lot longer. if i met my future wife because of amphibia then it really shows how much this show shaped myself and my life.

that really got away from me but yeah fanon is always there to fill in the gaps of the show. i never wanted to demand anything from this show that a disney cartoon wouldnt go through with but hey. the o&y anniversary is in two days. i sure never thought they would do THAT but they DID and it was horrible and fuckin AWESOME. and maybe thats why amphibia has always scratched my author brain more than any other fandom. the year and a half or so when my amphibia hyperfixation was totally dormant i spent just in the homestuck fandom and while thats easily one of the greatest pieces of media i have ever consumed in my life and ive written a decent handful of fanfic for... i have 80 published works for amphibia. thats so many!!! getting back into amphibia has gotten me writing so much again because theres something about it that is so compelling on its own but leaves enough loose threads open for fanworks to play within its structure and add in things that it feels like its missing.

to further treat ur nostalgia check out my fanart archive blog @3-stones-deity and my 3rd anniversary s3 rewatch project community which i got behind on running because of schoolwork but will certainly be catching up with before o&y!

[mbat]

i dont know how to say it in a way that people wouldnt somehow still find an issue with but i think so much about how one of my main OCs currently is a goblin from world of warcraft, and i purposefully gave her features that people would say are offensive, and yeah they are in most contexts, but idk...

like, in the game theyre from, its definitely offensive. the entire goblin species in that game is, as far as ive seen, very one-note. they think only of money, and very much dont care about what it takes to get it, including carelessly killing other people (even other goblins) just for a quick buck. ive only ever seen one goblin who doesnt fit this description, and its no surprise to me that that goblin was only from a recent expansion. as a jewish person, and honestly as a person who thinks antisemitism fucking sucks in general, it doesnt feel great! i clearly like this game, but that doesnt erase the fact that a whole race in it is a walking antisemitic stereotype, and how it makes me cringe every. single. time.

and well, goblins are almost always like that. big nosed, money obsessed, conniving, and occasionally they even still love to eat children (coughs in the direction of the most recent season of doctor who). even the least bad depiction ive seen of goblins so far, being the ones from 'tell me why', theyre described as 'crafty' and are thieves, though theyre based on the main characters so its more of a playful thing, yet it still reminds me of certain things.

these traits are also often pointed out to be antisemitic even in non-goblin characters, which is of course fair, like the villagers and golems in minecraft. the villagers are big-nosed, and they used to be the only creatures with a concept of money, especially considering that money was the green gem in the game. not to mention, golems ARE LITERALLY JEWISH FOLKLORE! golems are from jewish myth! clay soldiers created to protect the jewish people from threat... its not hard to make the connection.

theres thing to say about the non-physical traits, but theyre not necessarily my point.

so... what is my point? and what about my OC? why did i give her these physical traits that i know are portrayed as bad and offensive, even though i know why theyre offensive? i couldve easily gone down the route of trying to give her traits that are as far from those as possible, or even have just not made a goblin OC at all.

well... reclamation. the thing is, these traits on their own, theyre not necessarily a bad thing. a hooked nose, green skin, other things that clearly make the character look less human, and therefore lean into the dehumanization of antisemitic depictions. these things together make a caricature, even though on their own theyre just traits.

i just hate that these things that i think are so fun to draw characters with are a bad thing in the right context, but most of all, i hate that a hooked nose is a bad thing in a lot of contexts. real people, especially jewish people, have hooked noses! or the bump seen higher up the nose bridge that adds to the shape thats often seen/depicted! i mean, i look at my own aunt or my grandparents and they have/had those noses.

it sucks that something thats a real, natural thing that my people have, has been taken and treated as an ugly, evil thing. i could get into the same thing many people have about how physical traits being treated as ugly and evil is already a horrible thing, but my point is specifically about this trait, and how it relates to jewish people and antisemitism.

why does this trait have to only be a bad thing? i mean, you dont exactly see it in the mainstream in any context that isnt a villain, i dont even know if i can think of any [animated/drawn] heroes who have big or hooked noses.

i have a few characters with this trait, but theyre either human-ish (an elf) or a bird-like creature, therefore the nose is meant to resemble a beak, or a furry that literally just has that nose because i wanted to give them that trait. then you have my goblin... a goblin based out of world of warcraft.

when i made her a few years ago, i did it out of spite. id already played the game a little bit on my main character (a draenei) and id seen how goblins acted and looked, and how they sounded (i mean, seriously, a new york accent??). and i was genuinely like. 'fuck you blizzard, im going to take your caricatures and make her a person, a fleshed out person whos more than the traits you gave them, and im going to love her for all of the things i give her, because likely no one else will.'

so i did. i gave her a history, i gave her a personality, a future, relationships, i made her a person. im also glad that when i made her, i made her do the starting zone made for beginners where you start on a shipwrecked beach, and they dont really treat you all that different based on race as far as i remember. i later went and made a new goblin to see what the goblin starting zone is like, and it pissed me off so bad... but thats its own conversation.

i made her a person so that the physical traits i gave her were simply traits that she had. i draw her happy and in love because shes a person to me. shes not money obsessed, shes not conniving. shes respected, she cares about people, she isnt sitting around rubbing her hands together plotting in secret.

i just dont want hooked noses to be a bad thing forever. i dont want every picture of a hooked nose to only make people think of the propaganda of the past drawn to disgust people and make people hate my people.

so yeah. i do draw her with a hooked nose, but i dont encourage anyone else to draw her. i dont even have her up on my artfight even though i have my other main world of warcraft character on there, and ive definitely drawn my girl enough that she could probably fill all 6 picture slots. i draw her for me, and i love her for me.

i draw her to take that power away from the hateful depictions. the punch in the gut when i see caricatures. its like when i say faggot and tranny to take away the power of queerphobes. i mean, i still remember the first time i was called a slur, called a tranny. the shock it sent through my body. its not that different from the pain i feel when i see nazi propaganda.

so i do it to take away that pain. to make it mine, and not theirs. thats why. people could see my character and criticize me for it, and thats fair, but i at least want people to know why i do it.

[istherewifiinhell]

.

i guess if i were to name the shape the of the beast. to really. analyse the pains (to what end? we can ask exhaustedly. and the answer is none ever. but the mind does what it wants)

said. my dead cat i claim is not my cat and then say forever is my dead cat. well. he wasnt mine to maintain. or care for or any of that. i had no responsiblities to him. and i did feel like. he had a kind of fondness for me. perhaps just that i ate the most foods he would always be after (dairy and eggs). or love blankets and am always cold. or just all the times id bribe him with treats to be close. he was just my buddy.... i didnt have to feed him, he wouldnt even be annoying about it.

he would just come crowd my lap whenever i would even IMPLIE i was gonna be doing something where he could be in my way. and then when i decided to try taking him to my room... hed come running with me to the door. id scoop him up around whatever id had in hand. id go do something there and hed bother me. most recently of all id leave the door open a crack when going to the bathroom. and then return to a little fluffy ball on my bed.

he wasnt my cat my pet. he was my cat. like my little buddy. he was quiet mornings with tea. and sunny afternoons and sewing. id love to have his fur over all my shit again.

but beast. oh my poor lovely beast. listen. im not getting into all that. the why the fucks and the how the fucks i had a 95lb dog. never shoulda really. but yeah. responsibilites. ones i was bad at. a real distinct. from physical to mental to sort. Social Fortitude reasons. just. i guess you could tell something was real wrong when he hated the walks more than i did.

so i dont gotta problem solve how the fuck i can excercise him around my own fucking problems anymore. around the problems of this shitty place too. i wish i did. i do wish i did. i guess.

its so fucking awful. thinking. i think in my mind just how rough it had been doing stuff with him. and the other things i can think of him doing is just standing and sitting and laying in a old man huff. and no i didnt really ever mind that he was a touchy freak. if he wanted to knock on my door (and he did knock) just to lay like a potato on the ground. find my me

but he did also used to do more than than that too. it. i dont know how it is. remembering that. its like. its like. laughing. cause i love him. and that he played with the cat. and in the dry dusty dirt until he was light brown. hed even sometimes get in your space just to be there. if u could stay still for it. he even once slept next to me for a whole night during a powerout. which was much appreciated.

and its. its remembering the difference. its hell. its the pictures from 2019. we both looked so happy. in a place i like. in a place i would just go. to be somewhere. and wed go down there. and march along and run along and think and look and enjoy it. and im not there. and hes not there. ive still got the shirt. and the sunglasses. but what the fuck am i gonna look up and smile so big at.

[lilithpleasant]

some sims questions!!!!

tagged by @pooklet ty!!

What’s your favorite Sims death?

oh gosh, okay, tbh, in general idk if i have a favorite, i do like a classic death by old age just because it makes me feel accomplished, lol, but specifically i think it'd have to be the time forrest bonnet died of cardiac explosion the literal second i hit play once i finished building his house 😂

Alpha CC/Semi-realism or Maxis Match?

idk why but i am definitely more maxis match for ts4 and semi-realistic for ts2? it just feels RIGHT to me

Do you cheat your sims weight?

only for my story sims, in the spirit of keeping things semi-consistent between chapters, because i swear sim stede gains weight faster than any sim i've ever played, and sim ed often ends up TOO BUFF from all of his energized swimming 😂 other than that, i do not, i just let them do their own thing. i dont really use too many custom body shapes for ts2, but definitely coming back to it after playing with the diversity in ts4 has been a bit jarring, but also custom body shapes are a lot of work so. idk what the solution is!

Do you move objects?

is this a real question?

Favorite Mod?

HMMMMMMMMMM! i'd say ACR, the shiftable everything mod, and for ts4 of course ye olde wickedwhims 🤭

First Expansion/Game Pack/Stuff Pack?

idk whatever the first sims 1 ep was??? i think? my friend had it and we played it at her house in 4th grade (well, she played, i watched because she wouldnt let me actually play it, lol) and then my parents bought it for me that easter and ive been hooked ever since 😂

Do you pronounce live mode like aLIVE or LIVing?

living!!!!!!!!!! absolutely mindfuck to realize that some ppl DONT pronounce it that way 😂

Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made?

ed and stede in ts4, altho i didn't TECHNICALLY make their bases, but i have done sooooo much to them and i am so attached they are like my children

prob val in ts2, lol, i am big on fandom sims i guess!!!!

Have you made a simself?

yeah!!!!! in ts2 and 4!

Which is your favorite EA hair color?

uhhhhh, like, for ts4? probably a pink, ofc, lol. natural colors??? idk no preference!

Favorite EA hair?

this is so specific idk i mostly use custom hairs tbh

Favorite life stage?

young adult/adult in ts4 and adult in ts2 for sure

Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay?

oh both! i love gameplay but i also have to have it very aesthetically pleasing, if it's not fun for me to look at im not interested

Are you a CC creator?

yeeeeeee @ailuromancys

Do you have any Simblr friends or a Sim Squad?

@angelapleasant @dirk-dreamer @simper-fi are all sim friends who i have formed lasting irl friendships with 🥰 altho i am soooo bad at keeping in touch with ppl anymore and i feel so bad abt that, they are still my favorites

@pooklet is top tier as well!!! 😊

@emperorofthedark i know it's been ages but you also!!!!!!!

Do you have any sims merch?

...no?

Do you have a YouTube for sims?

oh my god, no. the way i alternate between normal speed and triple speed should be outlawed, i cannot imagine it would be any fun to watch AT ALL

How has your “Sims style” changed throughout your years of playing?

i think mostly i've gotten better at taking and editing pics? gos was pretty much my introduction to sims cc (with the exception of some sailor moon skins/heads i had for ts1 that my dad had to help me install 😂) so that had a HUGE influence on my style that i never really strayed from. i think i toned it down a bit in ts4, but at my core, i am still very neon/grunge oriented

Who’s your favorite CC creator?

@pooklet @skulldilocks currantpotpie @angelapleasant @dirk-dreamer @leaf-storm @simmer-until-tender do you see a theme here?

How long have you had Simblr?

2010 i think! holy shit.

How do you edit your pictures?

for tumblr i crop them to 800x500, use the honeycomb psd (with a vibrance layer added) and then use pooklet's sharpening action

What expansion/gamepack is your favorite?

HMMMMMMM. this is a tough one. possibly seasons for ts2? ts4 i cannot even say, because there are so fucking many lmfao it's disgusting 😂

taggin whoever wants to do this!!!!

[menod-the-otter]

01: no but it could be worse 02: @panry 03: a lot of things. my #1 biggest regret ever is losing one of my closest irl friends at the start of this year, and coming out to my mother when i wasnt ready at all is a very close #2 04: yea 05: complicated? aromantic but with a lot of random sexts with ppl 06: in a way that can send a powerful message to the powers that make peoples lives worse 07: salted sticks 08: i dont like sports, the last one i played is volleyball in todays PE class 09: yes, always 10: ive never gotten in a big fight, at max exchanged blows with someone and went out own ways. last time i hit someone with malicious intent was around spring of this year 11: my friends, they mean the world and more to me 12: when i got an extreme fever earlier this autumn i couldnt sleep for an entire night but i dont think it made quite up to 48 hours 13: dont even get me started 14: i miss my online friends when they arent awake, every day 15: used to have a guinea pig. his name was chewey 16: impossible to say, mostly neutreal with a slight hint of both good and bad, though the specifics of what im feeling at any given point could never be given a name 17: never made out with anyone :fire_emoji: 18: only the dangerous ones. and even them im moresso aware of the danger they pose as opposed to an irrational fear 19: only to win the lottery, i wouldnt change anithing ive done even if i regret it. im shaped by my past and ive learnt from my mistakes. if i didnt make them in the past i may make them in the future. 20: nowhere, i hug my big bear plush and pretend its people, though, if that counts 21: stay at home and chill 22: NEVER. 23: i dont 24: i used to be really good at english. still am, i just dont learn it anymore. got too good at it to learn it i guess 25: complicated 26: macdonals menu 27: i dont think so? 28: no 29: never had a bf 30: neighbours loud 31: yeah :) my friends love me very very much and i love them even more 32: orange is the goattt 33: i dont think so 34: oh boy. i get absolutely absurd dreams and this was weird even for me. itd take way too long to describe. like literally 5x longer than this post already is /srs 35: my classmates 36: im rather irrational when it comes to this. when someone just wronged me , yes, too easily even. when someone wrongs my idea of themselves, usually no 37: forget, memory issues go hard 38: hard to say. im not sure if i ever had an objectivly best year of my life. its all been different 39: never kissed anyone 40: no but thats hot 51 (why are 10 just missing): lasagna 52: no 53: porn 54: sometimes yes 55: id like to think not 56: like 0 57: no 58: huge storm outside, wind blowing a lot 59: yes 60: no 61: it can be silly and i like it but in the way where its like '' - my tumby hurts - oh poor baby'' and not like ''hey baby'', the second way is weird and straight white man vibes 62: my friends, nature 63: already have! 64: ive never kissed anyone 65: i panic and feel guilty about it 66: yeah 67: my classmate 68: @panry 69: no 70: @panry

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[bracebitez]

ventt postt

constantly torn between//i was so young and it scared me so fucking much// and //actually it was fine and i was in control of the situation and it was entertaining to me// and literally feeling nothing about it

like the first real bad stuff felt and still feels raw and bad i have no denial for that, it was fucked up and i found ways to endure it

but beyond that, the other stuff, the searching the seeking the toying with the concept and seeing how things played out is harder to think about because in one stance i know why i did that i know it was a way for me to survive without accepting it and without feeling it, but then also i can think about it and know that while also feeling the fear and entrapment and that i really did have a choice, but i also did ?? but then i know it was grooming but i also know i was interested but i also know i was making excuses and brains have a way of wanting things to happen again to make sense of it but i also know i cant say it did happen again but i can say there were instances and i cant say how many times it happened because i complied so much so that it wouldnt become a larger issue for me and it would at least stay a small thing i could endure and think about but not have to actually real world deal with and i think it's still a thing of that, where like yea i can keep it in my head i can text through it i can joke about it to myself but to actually say it and to actually write it and for it to actually be seen, destroys me, and then i snap back to it being a concept and thing that happened but doesn't even really feel real or raw just a pre processed cut summary of an event that i am in but so detached from its hard to place my role in it ,

i still dont think ive ever really said what happened out loud, the few times i have were the few sentences overview devoid of details which i was always on something for always made sure id have a chemical barrier for briefing it, other than that if briefly go over it to gauge a reaction or test something, or the one time i did fully go through just a peice of it with my therapist at the time, out loud and on camera, she just tried to say what i knew to be true and what i experienced and what happened to me , didn't actually and how could i be sure? atp i cant even really remember all that i had said to her other than brief mentioning of one of the dudes and the other adults involvement in it and she discarded both of it ect,

it's also weird because im really not in a place to talk about it, i have no reason to out loud ect tho i do always really want someone to just ask or to be able to say what happened to at least be able to semi process the event sequence, of the main times anyway

also its weird because there was so much of it in my life and so much small little build up events and it had always been like that and thats what i knew i was worth for that it's hard to distinguish memories where it happened or i was debating what if it happened in them, like there's specific times ive been rembering more recently that strike me as an almost somthing or somthing was off and inappropriate about the atmosphere of the situation ect and that i know happened and i know i was there and i know the situation ect but i cant pin anything on it and i cant even place it vaugley what could have occured after the memory just kinda blanks out or becomes choppy, and there's so many of those events that it's really overall hard to place or pin down any of it or where it even started really, like yea there was so much of it from such a young age but none of it was escalated nor was i in any real danger from it it was just a situation thing that make me extra susceptible to the later escalated and actually bad stuff

but also so much of my memory is still blacked out and so much is like i know was a bad time i know traumatic stuff happened that shaped me and i was there for and bore witness to, not only because i remember it did or was but have no visual or description memory, but also i have family history i have context clues i have things being literally said infront of me along the lines of (and also this is a direct statement from my mother) that "we'll be in trouble when she starts to rember stuff as she gets older" and like i am rembering some stuff??? its just like i already knew it was there just didn't have the proper like reveal for it i guess ??? and like just small things will be said offhandedly infront of me or small stuff will happen and then i can distinctly remember it, or like stuff happened that i am aware of i just cant place the context and such ?????

idk its just all very weird

[genderqueerdykes]

im intersex and transmasc/a trans man and ive questioned being transfem as well, but its so hard for me to feel i can claim that when i dont present femininely very often and my connection is mainly to femininity itself, with womanhood its complicated... im definitely intergender and feel it's likely i'm trans because of having hyperandrogenism, i feel i may be a woman otherwise and have always felt connection to womanhood just without *being* a woman, its just not what happened for me (#complicated trans intersex things), i just always yearn for womanhood even though i just know deep down its not for me and never couldve been bc of being intersex, it just wouldnt have ever felt right. personality wise still i am very feminine, more feminine than masculine, very into feminine things/have very predominantly feminine interests, so all these things make me feel connection to the transfem label but i end up feeling like since i don't ever really look feminine that often and it's unclear to me if i'm considered to have a feminine gender (gender is a mess) that i can't claim the label (honestly since then i think i don't experience transmisogyny very often and some say that's a requirement to be transfem)

so lost on it, any time i tried calling myself transfem i felt like a fake and that if people saw how masculine i am that they would call me a fake (honestly i dont even know if that would happen if that itself would be considered transmisogyny for someone like me since i do identify as a transmasc too and im more masculine now because of being on testosterone even though it is as significant as it is because of the hyperandrogenism... Idk if it counts as transmisogyny towards a transfem intersex person when its partly from being on testosterone even tho it wouldnt show up as strongly if you were perisex, yknow. more complications sigh)

so there's a lot of nuance to being intersex, and i totally understand why you're so confused and lost, because that's where i'm still at right now, so don't feel bad at all

it can take a very long time to kind of unwind that you're not perisex and that perisex logic doesn't apply to you. it doesn't really matter if you're "more" feminine than masculine, honestly, sometimes that makes it harder for intersex people, because when you have more subtle masculine features, people often think you are a transfeminine person attempting to hide those features due to dysphoria or trying to pass. it's very annoying, people are invasive in ways that aren't necessary

afab intersex people are often denied our femininity wholesale due to our masculine features. i was told i wasn't a "real girl" and i couldn't do things like wear makeup, for example, without getting absolutely ridiculed for no reason by my peers. i was also ridiculed for carrying a purse, or wearing feminine clothing. i was told i was "too manly to be a girl" because of my face shape, the slope of my shoulders, the flatness/sagginess of my chest, and my beard/mustache and body hair. i wasn't a guy either though, because i had a high pitched voice and a very obvious hourglass figure, so people just couldn't seem to figure out exactly what they wanted out of me. i was ridiculed into chest binding because people thought me wearing any other type of bra was me "trying to be a girl".

it's very confusing and it's a hard place to exist in in life. i think perisex people just don't really quite get how hard it is to exist as an intersex person. our experiences are so unique that you really can't apply any other logic to it other than our own specific situations. every intersex person is different as well.

if you find yourself relating to this, then it sounds like you experience a transfeminine intersex experience. keep in mind that it doesn't really matter what your agab is due to how you've been treated and if you've been denied the ability to identify as feminine or female in some way due to your agab, it is a transfeminine experience. it's just important to remember to never speak over or for amab transfeminine people, of course.

also, once you are on testosterone for a while, if you choose HRT, and you choose you present femininely, people more than likely will interpret you as transfeminine. i was getting so aggressively she/her'd when i had my long pink hair that i had to shave it off because i was sick of it. i had an old woman in a dollar store rush up to me to tell me to be careful, because there are people out there who like to attack certain girls. i really appreciated the gesture but it just goes to show you how people jump to conclusions very quickly when they see a "masculine body" and "feminine clothing" combined.

i hope that helps you out, i know it'll take some time for you to be able to come to terms with everything. i still am, myself, it's hard. there's no guidebook to being intersex, i wish our experiences were more well spoken of, but for now we simply have to do our best with what we have. i'm going to write a few zines and leaflets down the road to hopefully help other intersex people like us who are confused and need a sense of community. take care of yourself, hope you're able to sort everything out. good luck

[kemikoko]

uhM.. ive never actually used this account for my weird ramblings and such but !!! i have a new thing to ramble about so enjoy my nonsense !! :)

tw: mentioned child neglect and fnaf lore being confusing.

—

Okay this is about micheal and c.c(and elizabeth) and how there bond would realistically(as realistically as possible for fnaf) go!

okay so first i would like to say every sibling bond is different this is just my take on these dudes so if you have a different opinion good for you!! anyways lets start for real now. :)

okay so micheal or foxybro and c.c are known not to have the best relationship and thats like really common i litterly fought with my twin last night but the difference is that micheal is like a teen and c.c is at least 7(seven) or 8(eight) meaning theres a huge age difference so theres that. And also william probably is almost never at home or is busy working meaning elizabeths main role model is micheal meaning she would probably either bully kids at school or bully c.c at home or both. ( and also no one has really told micheal "that hey thats not really okay dude stop it.")

Meaning micheal or foxybro is helping elizabeth be shaped into this bully who doesnt know any better because she see's someone older doing it and thinks its okay. of course she has other role models or adults but her main one is micheal thats her brother. that's who she is with the most. Thats who she grows up with. ( and its also making micheal think even more that its okay to just bully c.c despite the fact its not and even then he should know better hes like a teenager.)

But of course with bad comes good. if you have a sibling that you bullied you or you got bullied by you'll here your parent(s) or guardian saying "You have to stop this. If something bad happens to me/us you'll only have each other." and while for the most part thats true.

they didnt seen each other for 40(forty)(?) plus years before meeting again so eh but its fnaf so. bUT realistically speaking if something did happen its true Micheal will have to take care if both elizabeth and c.c because we can safely assume Mrs. Afton isnt there she left or just died earlier.

And since william more than likely is almost always busy mike probably has had to take care for both if them when he isnt there. And micheal can say he hates c.c and bully him all he wants but deep down no matter how much he denys it he loves his little brother and he would more than likey do anything for him and elizabeth.

It doesnt matter how much he bullies c.c their stuck together. their brothers and they love each other no matter what because even if you say you hate family deep down you love them. ( sometimes!!!! not always !!!!! )

moving onto c.c and his death (Tw: talks of child death and once again fnaf lore being confusing !!)

—

okay so here comes the confusing part. So everyone has different AU's and stuff and i have not completely figured mine out yet but for right now ill just start talking.

So mike is the reason c.c died. simple as that. but its not because some people would hold grudges and some people wouldnt and c.c is an eight year old who now has a whole bunch of head trauma and memory issues. because there is no way in hell that fredbear did not crush his whole head like >:/.

anyways meaning c.c probably doesnt remember who the hell killed him or that hes dead but if he does i feel like he wouldnt know how to feel on one hand he would probably be very very upset but an a different hand he would also know that micheal wasnt trying to kill him. so he would just be stuck in the middle.

he would probably hold a grudge for a while but seeing as c.c is like probably eight(8) it would be one of those grudges he forgets after an hour or so. But also i can all assume that all the afton's are petty because ??????????? and c.c probably wouldnt talk to micheal at first if they ever met up again if he did remember who killed him but if he didnt remember he would probably be terrified of him still because yaknow...... mike bullied him....

but if c.c did hold a grudge and never wanted to see mike again i feel like mike would probably see that as understandable i mean he did kill him. but it wasnt completely his fault that also probably wasnt his intentions. once again confusing and it depends on if you make c.c forgive him or not.

i personally see it as he doesnt forgive him now at all and it would take like a while for him too. but since he has matured since then its easier for c.c to trust him not all the way but enough.

oh!! oh!! another thing me personally i feel like william does but also doesnt love his kids like when he first met them he hated them but they started growing on him and he's a bit neglectful but he A.) he either doesnt notice or B.) he's working on it but failing.

anyways!! thank you for reading this the whole way through. i am so sorry its not more neat i just.... idk man my thoughts are weird and this is just me rambling. uhm. ill try to update more on this account but yaknow....school....and..stuff...

okay anyways bye !!! happy holidays !!!! :DD

[simkjrs]

How about Kusuke for that ask meme? Would love to hear more of your thoughts on that little freak 😊

favorite thing about them

im kind of obsessed with his misanthropic mad scientist ways. theres nothing funnier about kuusuke than his complete lack of consideration for the happiness or quality of life for the rest of the human race. just look at him <3

least favorite thing about them

i hate all the incest jokes baked into his character. asou shuuichi had a perfectly interesting and compelling guy without that so why did he have to ruin it.

aside from that i think its really sad when he regularly invades saiki's privacy & bodily autonomy (such as adding a trigger to saiki's second limiter device without telling him. someone introduce kuusuke to the concept of informed consent please). i do think that this is one of the most interesting points of conflict between him and saiki tho so i wish asou shuuichi did something more with it where saiki gets a character arc learning how to assert his boundaries after living his whole life unable to respect others boundaries (due to x ray and mindreading) and without others respecting his (see: his dad and kuusuke)

favorite line

brOTP

i <3 saiki and kuusukes fucked beyond all repair brothers relationship i love how they care about each other but this fixes nothing and makes everything worse. its so interesting how they shaped each other growing up, and how despite resenting each other they also give each other things they cant get from anyone else -- kuusuke finding a "playmate" who can challenge him and stimulate his creativity, kusuo having someone he can rely on when it comes down to a crisis (such as his limiter breaking or needing to find a way to stop japan from being destroyed by a super volcano explosion).

of course, the fact that kuusuke cant be relied on in any other circumstance is also what makes the relationship interesting i think. like if kuusuke isn't helping saiki fix a problem, then he's the one causing all of saiki's problems. i really wish that we got more exploring their relationship.

that said it's really hard to enjoy them whole heartedly when all the incest jokes keep sneaking in. sorry i keep bringing this up but i really do hate them so much. like either commit to the incest/harrassment plotline and do your best to thoughtfully & respectfully portray the consequences of that trauma, or just leave it out. dont make it into a joke LOL ... literally why does anyone ever think this is funny

OTP

kuusuke x his pure & innocent disregard for humanity <3

nOTP

i see people shipping him with teruhashi makoto sometimes and its like ... why ... would you think that putting two creeps together would fix anything about them. they wouldnt make each other worse in a fun or interesting way. and they wouldnt even be funny

random headcanon

i think that kuusuke stopped resenting saiki shortly after he left home to go to cambridge because suddenly he was the smartest most genius most admired person in the room again but it was so boring because no one could challenge him and there was nothing to surpass. since life felt very boring & meaningless like this, i think that made him reevaluate his relationship with his brother and he realized that as much as it frustrated him to lose it made him happy to have a goal to always strive for. so i think after that, his ill will towards saiki mostly disappeared ... though he still has deadly serious competitive intent.

that said i think saiki never realized kuusuke's change of heart because kuusuke invented the telepathy canceler. and i think kuusuke wasnt interested in correcting saiki about how he felt now, and i think kuusuke didnt give much (if any) consideration to how it would make saiki feel to keep living under the misconception that his brother still hated him but had simply found a way to hide his plotting, forever. in conclusion: kuusuke is kind of the worst. LOL

unpopular opinion

ive already said all my unpopular opinions. my extremely niche opinion is that if saiki kuusuke and enoshima junko were born into the same world they would perfectly cancel each other out because what they both wanted was to fulfill their boredom and what they both did to do that was raise the stakes on other people until they managed to stop them (or didnt). kuusuke and junko would become perfect rivals. they would be like bbc sherlock and moriarty if they were high schoolers. they would be like L and light if L was completely amoral and just devote to winning the case for the sake of winning, and light was also completely amoral and just killing people to see what would happen. and they would be exactly like this post

song i associate with them

HMM i don't really have one. if i had to pick one... primadonna by marina. LOL

favorite picture of them

i cant pick one so you get three.

[notedchampagne]

yeah no you totally got it. Kagehina literally makes me FEEL NAUSEOUS with how good it is.

look look i used to think davekat were soulmates its only because theyre my weak spot but if i think about kagehina too hard i start to get mad at how their story is fucking IMPECCABLE. i was rambling about this on discord but im also pasting it here now i guess:

its like. canon genuinely didnt have a lot on davekat they had the Ideas there, the blueprint plans or however you wanna call it but at the end theyre kind of like bros++ and i dont count any of the epilogues + post canon content as actual canon since i want none of it. they had great conversations but the real treasures are what ppl make of it in fanon content which is why i think it has the fulfilling equivalence of junk food. you get a billion silly aus you dont have to think too hard about it because the metas already been made and there and if you were present the past 4 years weve also cycled through the whole. you know. suave dave tsunderekat / flustered dave suavekat / theyre both losers so its all so. yeah

kagehina has absolutely phenomenal fancontent theres people that really get them out there but i earnestly believe that nothing can ever top canon for them. ive read so many fucking aus and they are GOOD do not get me wrong but the way canon builds upon their dynamic it has NO CRACKS. its waterproof their entire lives have been affected and shaped by each other and theyre soulmates but also- any soulmate au out there also isnt as fulfilling as canon even if it BUILDS upon canon because the mere fact that kageyama and hinata are soulmates is like. yeah ok true but MORESO its not just Thrust upon them its a combination of luck that gets them to have that one interaction + each of them, as separate people, making decisions that influence each other and actively bring them closer together. i think they would have grown to be different people if they didnt meet first and i think that even if they shared commonalities that they wouldnt be as close. the ideal that makes them soulmates is the sheer luck that they got to meet each other the way that they did, and also their own decisions to just fucking kick each others asses so hard it left a permanent indent. so to say.

[shameboree]

hey kels i was scrolling through my dash and then i caught a glimpse of your new fallon drawing and i want you to know that i went absolutely buckwild and then i scrolled further to see the whole drawing and i'm pretty sure i squealed. kels ever since ive started following you and your art and fallon have slowly nestled yourself inside my brain its amazing how excited i get whenever u upload a new drawing. also ive noticed that i'm slowly but surely starting to sound more and more unhinged and wild like you. how the fuck do you have so much influence on me. 

ALSO i love the new fallon drawing!! you are so right blue gold and white are just her colours they fit her v well!! and i love how much texture you used throughout the whole drawing and her shoes are AWESOME!! also love the whole winter fairy-ish vibe <3

ALSO i was wondering if you could like sort of,, idk explain your drawing process on this drawing? like if you did the colouring first or the lineart and stuff bc i just love how it turned out and id love to try something similar!!

AW!!! i am so hype for my awful girl to be Enjoyed so much!! she is my favorite dressup doll i love to play barbies with her most of all heheh. also i am THRILLED that my Unhinged and Unwell nature have rubbed off on u. i know i am a Strong personality and it makes me V POLARIZING (i am either LOVED or LOATHED i havent met many ppl who are just like meh abt me. i am an Experience) and its always a DELIGHT when someone finds my feral animal traits endearing or positive and kind of picks up on them. i think because life is short that we should all be as bananas as we please at any point in time. PURE ID HERE BABY

AND TY TY!! my girl has a strong aesthetic and this piece kind of went a liiiiittle against some of that (its a lot of hard angles vs i normally give her a lot of ovals and rounded edges) but for the setting its appropriate bc im trying to give her a bit more of a """"harsh"""" or """"severe"""" vibe (like as harsh and severe as she can possibly look which isnt very). i LOVE to use texture brushes they are such an easy way to get out of drawing details myself because i am SO lazy!!

okay i “”answered”” this i GUESS technically because i typed words in response but its a whole lot of jack shit so like. here ya go. SORRY PAL. 

here are some more shoes as u can see i basically draw her in the same ones always except when i draw her in a plugsuit

OKAY THE DRAW IN QUESTION i kind of cheated on bc i literally just traced over one of my older draws i did for a very obscure au i made of who made me a princess (i am always doing such ridiculously niche shit i love to sit in my little sandbox and have no one else understand my barbie rps) BUT the process is the same as basically every draw i do like this. it is very simple so dont worry (or do, maybe)

i use 1-3 layers at a time and then immediately merge when i feel like im done and LIVE W MY MISTAKES if not!! anyway prepare to be massively underwhelmed heh

this is so funny i cant believe i literally traced my own drawing im a fuckin FRAUD im the laziest bitch i know. anyway. my sketches are way messier than this but it always starts out either scratch ass lines or color blocking w this bright ass magenta bc thats what feels right!!!!!!

HERES THE LAYERS I USED LOL i do all textures n shit as a clipping mask so actually i used 4 layers for this bc id set down one texture or pattern that was gonna overlap on a diff layer so i wouldnt have to work harder to erase and then BLINDLY MERGED to make things more difficult if actually i fucked up before that!!! work smarter not harder except when it is absolutely braindead to do otherwise is my motto

IF IM DOIN SMTH NICER like this then i usually make sure all my lines connect (this is also why i do a lot of angles and simple clear shapes when i draw) so i can set that layer as reference and USE THE FUCKING FILL TOOL BAYBEEEEE!!!!! this also makes it easier to fuck around with COLOR imho bc you can just rapidly swatch with zero efforts. i Love to take shortcuts. i Love to be lazy. i HIGHLY rec this, if i have colored smth that stays in the lines then its bc i connected the lineart and used the bucket fill underneath. if my lines dont connect sometimes ill make a temp line and erase after i filled. im dedicated. ALSO u can see here that my patterns layer is all overlapping and fucked up bc i didnt check and erase fully but i use p limited palettes in general so... IT DIDNT MATTER THIS TIME!!!!!!!!. 

anyway after all that i lock the lineart layer if i havent already and color some of the lines for some PIZAZZ. easy way to immediately fake effort i do love to do that

HERES AN ACTUALLY MESSY SKETCH:

 i do all of my fucking draws on the same canvas bc im a horrible little beast, so the only reason i didnt erase the sketch and use it for the colors layer was bc there were others on that layer already and i didnt wanna scoot them so i could cap the finished draw. i did NOT connect my lines for this one i colored like a toddler. who gives a shit we all die in the end anyway!!! 

YOU DIDNT ASK FOR THIS BUT LINELESS MY LOVE... i just color blocked for this one alas i do not have process caps, i will do that next time i draw i guess if anyone wants that!!? i typically only use a single layer for lineless- block out the shape, alpha lock, then color and carve from there. EASY PEASY!! ive shown it before but i spent all my formative draw years on v limited feature programs (mspaint, oekaki, TEGAKI MOST OF ALL) so i dont explore tools much and do what seems easiest and most intuitive to me... im sorry i dont have any sick tricks or real process i am but a feral little clown drawing in the DIRT. also here is the tegaki overlay i use whenever i am Blocked or fatigued w procreate layout. it makes me feel NOSTALGIC and INSPIRED so i do this instead of like, actually getting on tegs2

this ended up long as fuck and FOR WHAT?? its just 10 images and several paragraphs of “sorry im the laziest fucker ALIVE”

[miiilowo]

vent to us about vanny and glitchtrap. how much do you hate them and why, here for the drama

OH GOD where do i even START ( this is said gleefully and i am rubbing my hands together like a cartoon villain )

GENERALLY im not a huge fan of the newer fnaf lore. 1-3 is good purely for nostalgia purposes but generally everything pre pizzeria simulator + UCN? its decent! got some characters you can get attached to while not removing the spooky factor (SECURITY BREACH) you had the dead kids. you had the old creepy bastard getting a taste of his own medicine. a proper conclusion, even if it was the . um. third? proper conclusion in the series

i ALSO love william aftons character. hes horrendous. truly the worst. great antagonist as long as i dont look scraptrap in the...anywhere. he's always been my favorite character, and ive been into fnaf before #3 even came out so you know thats SAYING SOMETHING lmao

takes the cake as my favorite game series of all time. piqued my interest in horror. piqued my interest in art. fnaf is one of my favorite things ever in GENERAL, actually. shaped who i am today! my favorite hyperfixation then and one of my favorites now! if i never got into five nights at freddys, i wouldnt be as skilled of an artist. id have never gotten into online spaces, i wouldnt have the same interests, and id probably be an asshole all things considered. it made me happy for years and years -- i poured so much love into making content for this silly little horror game series and i genuinely wouldnt have it any other way.

anyways then glitchtrap shows up and fucks everything i like about the series

YOU HAD THE DEAD KIDS. IT MADE SENSE. THEY DIED AND POSESSED THE ANIMATRONICS. I KNOW ITS NOT THE 80S ANYMORE IN THE NEW GAMES BUT THE WHOLE DIGITAL SOUL THING OR WHATEVER HE'S GOT GOING ON THROWS A WRENCH INTO EVERYTHING THE SERIES HAS ESTABLISHED UP TO THIS POINT. IT'S NOT THAT IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE IT JUST ISNT...THERE HAS BEEN NO MENTION OF ANYTHING LIKE THIS UP UNTIL THIS POINT. it'd have been more satisfying if springtrap just fucking crawled outta the rubble and then shuffled his decrepit ass at you as you played the game or something. The Adventures Of Springtrap. Springtrap visits and burns down a burger king. Springtrap smashes your head against the pavement simulator. ill take anything. anything but this. please. fuck

It genuinely just makes me kinda sad in a weird way. Whenever im catching up on lore I'll be (reluctantly) accepting new theories about whatever the hell is going on then it gets to glitchtrap and vanny and it feels like someone walked up to my soul with a vacuum and turned it on high suction. what the hell did they do to my boy

right. so we HAD possessed animatronics. we probably still do, i dont know anymore. now we have a glitchy rabbit suit that looks like it smells like piss and apparently contains a serial killers soul. awesome. okay. whatever. if i ignore it, itll be fine. he wont be that relevant, right? i wont have to think about him anymore if i try hard enough WRONG NOW WE HAVE ANOTHER RABBIT SUIT THAT LOOKS LIKE IT SMELLS LIKE PISS

vanny. vanny dearest. vanny sweetie honey pumpkin darling. i fucking hate her

first impression of her was that she looks like she was designed for rule34 artists. shes not scary. shes not intimidating. she looks like a strong breeze would knock her over because her head is ten times the size of her body. toy chica is also guilty of the r34 thing but toy chica isnt associated with glitchtrap and therefore i do not hate her out of spite

i dislike security breach as a whole because it feels like a fnaf fanfic or fan comic series youd stumble upon on deviantart. that being said, fnaf fanfics and fancomics can be really enjoyable- they just dont feel like an actual piece of fnaf content. if security breach is the fanfic, vanny is someones oc that was made because they wanted to draw horny self insert art with springtrap and was unceremoniously shoved into what couldve been an entertaining story

despite my hatred for glitchtrap, he at least kinda makes sense and at least falls in line with fnaf in terms of general vibe. i feel bad for vanny. shes an antagonist. ive never been scared of her. and i cannot stress enough that she 100% feels like she doesnt belong in fnaf. shes the first antagonist to be just Some Person (unless you count micheal in fnaf 4. i dont) and she is fucking useless LMAO she shows up for like 3 cutscenes and barely does anything despite being hyped up and shown in trailers for fucking ever

guess burntrap is also guilty of the 'being useless' thing. i am neutral toward him though. hes got cool claws

didnt even touch on the mind control manipulation thing. god. i would but i dont know enough about it to properly tear it apart and i dont want to invest energy into learning about it

[probably-haven]

Hello!! After seeing what you wrote about xiaoven fics I went to see what things you usually write and omg, your archon Venti headcanons????? I am absolutely in love. So if it isn't annoying, could you talk about xiaoven or Venti or Xiao or whatever ship or character you like? I don't care what you are going to say, I just want to know more about your thoughts ^^

I- is this... bestie, this is essentially a free ramble pass- kerujsgheskdfug. Trust me when I say that in no way is this, and in no way will it ever be annoying in the slightest- i literally- lets just say rambling off thoughts is kind of my specialty, especially when provided a topic to branch off of because otherwise I'm just- really indecisive about it so- iujskdh yeah- 100% definitely down to talk about Venti, Xiao, and/or Xiaoven XD. Also, yes- it may have been awhile since i last posted one(cuz again, indecisive about which direction to take part 5), but the Archon War Era Venti headcanons are still without a doubt my favorite posts I've made. It's just such an interesting topic with such endless potential that so few people actually think about or consider or even realize is there, so i always just get really psyched whenever i see someone interact with them lol.

.... this ended up being a bit of a mess: warning in advance

Anyway! onto the actual content!

- You see the thing about Xiaoven is that there's a lot of different ways that it could end up working out, and just personally my favorite way of portraying Xiaoven in my mind is as an unlabeled relationship because if anyone in genshin would give off that vibe its these two. And a number of other reasons.

- Firstly, I heavily headcanon Venti as being an aroace polyplatonic or perhaps heavily demiromantic. However, regardless of this I just don't think that Venti is really the kind of person to worry about how he should label his feelings, thinking it's silly to try to put them in one box or the other, especially with feelings and emotions being as fluid as they are in general. Plus it fits his whole God of Freedom vibe. I just- dont think he's the biggest fan of labels or social categorization in general.

- And secondly on the hand of Xiao... his defense mechanisms are very much ingrained in his personality. It's probably hard enough for him to not go into fight or flight(the answer is fight) at the slightest affection at first, at the slightest feeling of vulnerability. Even further down the line, with his fierce dedication to Liyue, I cant help but get the vibe that the moment he recognized that he was falling for Venti he would begin avoiding him, not only to avoid distraction from his duty, but to avoid corrupting him or losing him in general like he has with like basically every other person he gets close with(even believing that the cycle had repeated once more when he first heard of Morax's death)... now imagine Venti tryna slap a label on their relationship and tell me Xiao would have a positive reaction.

- The thing with Xiaoven.... honestly, i feel like theres more ways that it can go wrong than it can go right, but if they do manage to make their relationship work out, it's just simply beautiful in all terms of the word.

- Lets talk about killing. - During the Archon War, both were forced to kill a large number of people and gods alike- Venti out of a need to remain alive to protect Mondstadt, it's freedom, and the nameless bard's legacy by extent- and Xiao out of servitude to the god that was once his master

..... actually- break here- ive talked a lot about Venti on this blog but I havent actually spoken about Xiao all that much- so i should probably do that a bit first... do note though that my characterization of Xiao is pretty flexible actually- this is just- the possible characterization of him that i tend to favor as being the most- uh- "realistically complex"

-

Theres a line I saw this one time in a certain story: "He is a trained weapon. That's what he is, was, and always will be. You cannot change that so stop trying." And i just- think its a really interesting concept- that applies pretty well to Xiao now that i actually think about it. - the concept behind it is this: After spending more than a vast majority of his life killing or otherwise in battle, it's become a part of who he is, a normalcy that after centuries and centuries would be near impossible to get rid of or reverse, and even if it was possible, with his karmic debt constantly eating away at him its unlikely he has enough time left for that to happen. - it sounds like a cruel thing to say about him- but in context it's actually pretty layered and i think about it a lot. It's not as much a "he's a killer lol, that his whole personality" its more of a "The centuries of trauma he experienced have conditioned him into a constantly alert and battle ready mindset while also shaping his dehumanizing inferior-in-worth-but-superior-in-capability view of himself that would have likely been necessary to get through those time, and at this point he's been under that conditioning for long enough that it's essentially ingrained itself in his personality."

- the main idea is- it's a part of who he is, that needs to be accepted as who he is because its not something that he can just up and change. It's not all he is of course but his constant battle mode, as though always waiting to be ambushed or to be granted a new target to eradicate.

a couple character story quotes:

-"His past of service under the evil god had rid Xiao of his innocence and gentleness. All that remained within him was the means to kill and the weight of his sins. The only way he could be of service to mortals was in combat." -"Xiao does not feel any hatred. Having lived for over two thousand years, no single karmic debt constitutes anything more than a fleeting memory. No grudge can last a thousand years; nor is any debt so great that it cannot be paid off in this time. Xiao has spent many long years alone. But his battles have never been in vain." -"where did Xiao have to return to? He was merely leaving the battlefield." -"since Xiao wages a constant war against dark forces powerful enough to devour Liyue in its entirety, any bystanders who witness him in the heat of battle are likely to end up as collateral damage." -"The war he fights can never be won, and will never come to an end." -"Because ultimately, the one with whom Xiao wrestles is himself."

i feel like at some point this very nearly did consume his whole personality, almost turning him into nothing more than a being of slaughter under Morax's control, devoid of any "humanity" at all, consumed and corrupted by his karmic debt like his fellow yakshas before him. - until he experienced a moment of clarity- a song in the wind, the peaceful melody of a dihua flute. - and pulled back from the border of something he wouldnt have been able to return from, there a was a shift in his mind- a concept grown unfamiliar enough with time that it took him a great time to identify what it was; a curiosity. Something that there was no place for on the battlefield, something that by all means should have been completely useless to Xiao, and yet he held onto that curiosity, slowly regaining over time, a sense of who he was and who he could choose to be with each song that the wind chose to carry towards him every once in a blue moon.

and eventually that curiousity turned to longing. Longing "for a day to come when he will wear the mask and dance — not to conquer demons, but to the tune of that flute amid a sea of flowers"

...... uh- heh- if you couldn’t tell already i have a tendency to make my characterizations/analyses of characters more serious that i probably should. 

to summarize: Xiao is constantly toeing the line between his ingrained nature and his humanity- almost as though still trying to decide how much of that humanity he deserves to have, how much he is allowed to have, and how much is safe to have.

^looking back after writing this, i think the best way to explain it is that this is the view that i keep in mind/the lense that i tend to most enjoy looking through and refering back to while examining and/or analyzing his character, actions, story, lines, and overall personality.

idk- i kinda got off track but i just think its a really interesting interpretation to think about because it has some really interesting implications ig- it’s not the full extent of how i view him of course, but i kinda got ahead of myself and its long enough as is so ill just elaborate as i go- Lol i actually have in progress playlists for both him and venti and just- vibes- i could ramble about the playlists alone for hours explaining everything... It’s probably a problem- uh- ill keep going now lol.

anyways! stepping off the angst path for a brief break! Brought to you by their lines in the snow: both waiting for it to get thick enough, Venti for the purpose of a snowball fight and Xiao for the purpose of a tasty and nutritious breakfast.

but its actually something of note that Xiao doesnt actually need to eat so anything he does eat is usually out of obligation or enjoyment- so like.... snow.... like i dont blame him, but of all things- an adeptus who refuses to eat basically anything but almond tofu looks at the freezing-cold-floor-water that yeeted itself from above and decided at some point- damn- that seems more edible than basically ever single actually edible thing ever.... im gonna eat it- like- im glad if eating snow makes him happy but- at the same time...

He probably convinces Venti to eat snow too though and Venti wouldnt even resist I mean he’s wind and has probably consumed worse things in his time so- 2 anemo cryptids with glowing tattoos sitting in Dragonspine monching snow in the dead of night is an amusing thought to me.

- kay, now back to more serious-toned thoughts

One of the things about the ship that i really like is the different contradicting parallels between them:

A lot of how i view Xiao’s character is someone formed largely by the things he cant control and who was forced to accept that accepted that and learned to thrive in it as much as he can.  Venti on the other hand is surrounded by things he cant control and is ever adapting to control as much as he can while embracing whatever he cant as being part of the unpredictability of the world, seeing beauty in it. 

both of them have lost people and do what they do to honor their memory: Xiao continues to do what the Yakshas once did And Venti chooses to do what his friend couldn’t

Xiao’s power coming from himself  and Venti’s from others And both seem to appear to use their power for their own gain while truly helping others behind the scenes

both have killed a lot of people during the archon war Xiao views it as another necessary event out of his control and Venti would likely view it as a tragedy he chose to enact himself

and this is where we meet out balance

Xiao- contrary to how i think a lot of people view him as thinking of himself as a monster- seems canonically to have accepted this as part of his duty, as long as those he killed are not mortals. I dont think he enjoys it no- but someone has to do it and he’s just accepted that its a part of his duty Venti on the other hand-

See the beauty of the ship- as someone with an angst-centric mind- is this- these are two of the most traumatized mfers in the game 

Xiao is by far the one who needs the most help and who can serve to benefit most from the ship- but he is nowhere near self aware enough to recognize that there’s anything wrong or unhealthy about his mindset in the slightest-

whereas you have the contrast with Venti who sorted through most of his trauma with the nameless bard alone during the archon war and while the result appears more healthy- is still really not- but he’s not self aware of that either because i mean- who’s going to tell him? nobody even knows. 

however- venti is aware enough to notice flaws in Xiao’s mindset and “Venti” enough to want to help them through it-

Xiao- while not aware enough to recognize the flaws in Venti’s mindset, can recognize where it contrasts with his own, and is blunt enough to point it out- and then it’s out there to be mulled over- 

they’re so similar and yet so different and a feel just conversing between the two of them, being in each others precense, just being exposed to two mindsets that are so very different could do both of them a whole lot of good.

GEEE THAT BIT OF RAMBLING HAD LITTLE TO NO DIRECTION AT ALL- LET ME-- LET ME MAKE THIS START MAKING SENSE- WITH... DYNAMICS OR SOMETHING

I don’t think Xiao needs to sleep really- and i dont think that sleeping would do anything except make him uneasy at first- he’d probably just get nightmares after all he’s been through- but with Venti he would soon learn that it doesn’t have to be that way, lulled into the first peaceful sleep he’s had in... as long as he can remember.

anywho back to not making sense cuz im fickle and i think most questions about ships are best displayed through character interactions so like- a possible exchange thats cliche but cliches exist for a reason

Xiao: Why do you try so hard to help me, it isn’t easy. I know that much Venti, with the most adoring expression: Because you’re worth it, obviously Xiao: But surely there are others more deserving of- Venti: No Xiao, everyone is just as deserving as the next person, you included Xiao: Then why me above others? Venti: ehe, cuz ur my warrior of course [O//////O oh shit, hes right] Xiao: My contract is with Morax alone [gay panic but in broody yaksha]

it’s kinda difficult cuz neither of them really address their feelings.  I mean Venti does but he does it very indirectly and its rare that he ever does it with like- genuine directness- even spilling his backstory was in the form of a song- and told in the third person- so a lot of their interactions would often have some deeper meaning, especially with Venti being the bard he is. 

I come up with a lot of- errant thoughts about Xiaoven- but this is making me realize that a true analysis of their ship is rather difficult because it just encompasses so many dynamics so its hard to settle on just one and not go rambling about who knows what bouncing from one end of the ship to the other-  Because you truly can and thats the beauty of it

within one moment you can be having a heartfelt conversation about the archon war the impact of lost friends and times past, and the next moment Venti is trying to forcefeed Xiao an apple while Xiao screams about disrespecting the adepti and its just- so lovely

so while they have picnics with nothing but apples, dandelion wine, and almond tofu they can sit down and talk about the dreams Xiao once devoured, and the dandelion wine and apple cider that the first Ragnvindir invented from the plants that never could have grown in Old Mond. The foods that tasted of familiarity, or of the grilled ticker fish Pervases always used to eat, foods that tasted of friends and frankly family that had since passed, glaze lilies and cecilias and qingxin flowers scattered in the surroundings and woven into Xiao’s neat braids and Venti’s now messy ones, rebraided by the steady and inexperienced hands of one unused to gentle action. 

and then of course Venti steals Xiao’s tofu once the mood becomes too grim and replaces it with a bottle of wine that Xiao refers to as “vile poison,” a remark that fatally wounds Venti as he collapses on the floor, proclaiming how he can only be healed by a Yaksha’s kiss. Xiao ignores this of course and simply takes back his tofu with a slight smile on his face, but as Venti persists he soundlessly places a kiss on his own palm before intertwining their fingers and pulling him back up from where he was dramatically sprawled on the floor, grumbling about how such action was “unbecoming of an archon.” A sign of affection only Xiao would ever know about. But Venti is literally wind and I hc his senses work differently anyways so he definitely knows- plus Xiao’s face is red as the blood of his enemies and the way he is pointedly not looking at Venti at all really speaks volumes anyways. 

 -Venti playing epic battle music whenever Xiao goes into fights in what looks like a ridiculously extra performance to anyone else but is actually doing wonders to keep Xiao’s karma at bay

-Venti preaches the practice of “kissing wounds better” and Xiao is unfamiliar with this medical treatment but views it as unnecessary regardless because adepti have accelerated healing, doesn’t mean he’s going to stop him though. 

-Messages whispered on the wind

-Venti’s 1000 year sleep- an accident, not a fun time for the yaksha, and not a fun time for Venti once he woke up. Venti is actually more afraid of restful sleep than Xiao is, hence the sleeping in trees thing, but when Xiao is there, he can sleep restfully with faith that Xiao wont let another millennia slip through his fingertips. 

- Xiao tends to make excuses when doing things that aren’t necessary to his duty, like in his birthday voice line “Have this, it’s a butterfly i made from leaves... Okay. Take it. It’s an adepti amulet -- it staves off evil” because at the current point in his progress it helps him to feel like he’s allowed to do these things. Not wanting to put him off from progress, Venti never comments on his excuse but never fails to whisper a quick reminder of how proud he is of how far Xiao had come.

- Xiao’s karma saddens Venti greatly- not only because of how it effects Xiao but also because its a reminder that as much as Venti tries to honor the memory of those he’s killed, there will always be those who resent him for it, and when he took the option of living away from them, he truly can’t blame them. - And when he gets too wrapped up in thoughts, whether around this topic or similar ones or otherwise, eventually, he’ll hear the sound of a flute on the wind. It’s not divine by any means, but as his own wind connects him to the source, he gets the sentiment all the same. “What impact does one individual’s remaining wrath have on the present. You have done much to help the living in the present” the unspoken idea that Xiao has included himself in that statement, because now, with Venti’s help he’s beginning to learn just how to experience living for himself. 

- Venti’s form and Xiao’s mask are off limit topics though because if either mentions it the other will counter with the opposite and the mood will turn immediately bitter at the idea that both know that what they’re doing is destructive but neither are willing to change

- Venti who has different tells for negative feelings than most people because as much as he likes to pretend it is- this form isnt his, and Xiao who is able to identify those

- many fanfics and headcanons have Venti recognizing when Xiao is uncomfortable and getting him out of those situations. I see that and I love it but i raise you: - Venti taking Xiao to Mondstadt, careful that he doesn’t get to the point that he’s uncomfortable. And nothing goes wrong exactly, but Xiao notices the the way Venti’s cape is blowing in the wind, the way he’s holding his weight, barely on his feet so much as floating on the wind, connected with the ground only for the sake of appearance, all the while he looks just as happy go lucky as ever. And without a word, he grabs his hand and teleports them both out of Mondstadt.  - turns out it was just a slight thing that reminded him of the archon war (cuz i will die on the hill of him having more tragic backstory than just Decarabian), and he of course gives a sincere if not flustered thanks to Xiao, because he’s really not used to people noticing. 

- Venti trying to vent sneakily through fictional stories and Xiao is just like “Didn’t that basically happen to you” and Venti is just like “<_< shit”

- Venti once said affectionally that he wished he had met Xiao sooner and Xiao immediately and seriously shot it down by saying “If you had, I would have been forced to kill you” and both of them now stay up at night wondering who would have won that fight, not sure which result would have hurt more. (because honestly I have no idea who would win in that fight and that terrifies me- I like to think it would have been one of those legends that end with “and the fight persists to this day” or something along those lines)

- “How long have you been together?” “Adepti have no need for-” “1000+ years T^T how dare you deny our love” “O///O our...? ...useless”

- its disney- let me explain- i have this- i have this headcanon inspired by watching too many animatics- - so venti has a human form that isnt his- which he would have had to get used to moving in- and he’s a bard- - uh- anyway- as a third degree black belt in mixed martial arts, i can speak as an authority on this(not really an authority since i havent gone since quarantine but lets pretend). We have a thing referred to as the big three(most things do), and those things are martial arts, gymnastics, and dance. The idea is that they reflect really well off of each other and the best in any one category are good in all three. Timing, balance, form, discipline, technique, hand-eye coordination, grace, ease of motion, they all play a part- anyway-

- Venti taking Xiao’s prowess in martial arts and acrobatics and teaching him how to dance, and as someone who’s extremely skilled in the first two, the third comes easy to him, almost naturally. And it’s delicate and beautiful and lovely and it isn’t hurting anyone. And Venti points all these things out and more and despite how much Xiao insists that he feels ridiculous he truly does enjoy it and it goes a long way towards helping him form more healthy views of himself and his worth.  - Verr Goldett walked in on him once and made a joke about performing at the inn. unfortunately Venti was there and agreed on Xiao’s behalf before he could protest and- and it wasn’t as bad as Xiao thought it would be... he still wouldn’t do it again though without reason, but with good enough reasoning he could probably be convinced. 

- anyways point is he likes dancing to Venti’s songs and i just think that’s really cute - just picture the idea that all the animatics you see actually have the potential to be canon- ugh

- venti tries holding something out of Xiao’s reach since he’s taller and Xiao just fucking teleports 

- both need their space but when they dont, all they have to do is speak the other’s name and they’ll be there.

- and because i just had to.... love languages

- lets start with Xiao- i don’t think he’d view acts of service or quailty time as a love language tbh, and he blunt but really bad with words so affirmation is out, leaving gift giving and physical touch. However, he seems to view most material things as meaningless so- - Xiao who’s love language is in his fleeting touches, something he’s only recently grown comfortable with because of Venti, and now is giving back, which he knows he doesn’t have to do, but that he want’s to, though he’ll still continue to make excuses for each one. “you were shivering” “The inn is high up, you could have fallen..... I said what I said, you’d question an adeptus?”

- and as easy as it is to say words of affirmation for Venti- he does that for everyone- i want to say his is actually acts of service - its the acts of service that let him see just how much Xiao has progressed afterall, from teaching him to dance, to playing another song on the flute, to supplying him with the almond tofu he seems to enjoy so much. Every little thing he does helps Xiao to grow and he couldn’t be happier about that. 

-

- of course most of my headcanons for the ship do take place latter into the relationship because- y’know the less serious unhealthy vibes allow for greater range of thought, but i do still love to think about the serious implications so i kinda hopped back and forth. So sorry about how messy it is btw, i kinda- got carried away- it kinda got some kind of structure near the end tho so- maybe it’s okay. anyway- back to... lol something, we’ll see where thought forests lead. 

[jangofctts]

Sink Your Teeth In (Part 2 of Are You In Or Out?)

Rated: Explicit (Paz is in the next chapter DONT WORRY)

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, the cold?, reader is in PERIL YET AGAIN, vaginal fingering, oral female receiving, unprotected vaginal sex (wrap them schlongs yall), brief hand jobs, swearing, angst, very VERY light choking, din is a sub sorta?? bottom energy 

Summary: Well. At least you aren't dead. After a solo hunt gone wrong, you’re dumped in a cave on Csilla. Hopefully someone finds you before you freeze to death.  

a/n: hey…so uh. HOW ABOUT THAT EPISODE HUH?!? aheM anyway--yall I just wanna thank everyone first off for all the love and support!!! I see all of your comments and tags and AH IM SO LUCKY TO HAVE ALL OF YOU GUYS. ALSO SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO @djxrxn​ THIS WOULDNT HAVE BEEN DONE WITHOUT YOU BB GORL

Well—

Here you are. 

Taken by surprise by another bounty, further proving how irrevocably incompetent you are at this line of work. You blame the binders. An older, clunkier model—easy to pick if you’re clever enough and yes. Maybe you should’ve asked to borrow a carbonite chamber, but hey—where’s the fun in that? 

Not much, as it so happens. 

Your feet had been kicked up on the dashboard, dozing and unaware of the freed bounty creeping up behind the pilot’s seat. Something delightfully blunt smashed against your temple, jolting you into a brief conscious state where the only thing you could think before passing out again, was a resounding— 

Oh, fuck me sideways with a fucking lightsaber—

The rest is hazy. A blur of colors and the fuzzy shapes of your bounty’s face sneering in amusement when she bound your wrists and ankles and left you in the cargo hold. Vaguely you recall your ship being commandeered, swung into an unidentified atmosphere and landing on said unknown planet Or planets. Planet hopping to cover up a trail. 

The bitter cold, sharper than a needle through skin is what shook off the last dregs of unconsciousness. The bounty’s hand was hooked into the collar of your clothes, dragging your limp body through drifts of snow and ice. You would’ve fought back—should’ve even though each extremity felt like a numb block of lead. Not very useful in a fight…

Soon, the snow turned to mud and the mud to stone as a mouth of a cave slid over the impossibly blue sky. Dumped in a cave, and left to die—perfect way to bite the dust. Your bounty turned captor lands a sharp kick to your ribs, mouthing some curse in a language you don’t understand, and left without a second thought. 

Seems about right. You have a knack for lying helpless and half dead in places you ought not to be in. 

Two days and counting, you’ve been holed up in this blasted cave with no food, no supplies and no comlink. It’s going be a fucking chore to find you—nearly impossible. You’re lucky in that aspect you guess—you know enough bounty hunters to sniff out a a needle in a whole stack of needles, so all it is is a race of time against the elements and how long it takes for one of them to notice.            

Aeris is no help. He left a day before you had—hired as personal protection for some syndicate leader halfway across the galaxy. Ives is in a similar boat, off-world and unavailable to drag your ass out of the hole you’ve dug. Which leaves…

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose between your forefinger and thumb. Anytime you even think of those two a migraine cumulates behind your eyes. It’s…it’s not like anything bad happened in the aftermath—there’s been no fallout or arguments with barbed words as weapons. It’s been quiet. Like stepping onto a sheet of cracked transparisteel in a library full of tight-lipped academics. 

The questions lurk under the surface of every conversation and longing look cast your way. You’ll need to clarify and sort things out eventually, but fuck—it’s such a mess of frazzled heartstrings and fine strands of impossible thoughts that lead into an endless void of doubt. You’re shoving that emotional time bomb to the very back of your mind—everything is still so raw…  

So you ran. 

Picked up any and all jobs that the Guild provided just to escape the looming decision of confronting a certain pair of Mandalorians. That and with them having their own tasks to complete, it was rare to see them, let alone together in the past few weeks. A simple run in here and there in the halls of the Covert, but you were too busy to stop and chat—forced a chaotic schedule upon yourself as an excuse to avoid staying in once place at a time.    

Coward.

The word knots in your stomach like gnarled tree roots escaping their prison of dark soil on untrodden land.  

Maker—how did everything become so tangled? 

You draw your knees up to your chest and release a long, drawn out exhale that echoes through the cave. You sniff and force the swell of tears that prick at your eyes away. You’re pretty sure they’ll freeze and you’re not hoping to find out. 

The only good thing about being dropped on this Maker-forsaken, wasteland devoid of anything but snow, is the free ice for the nasty gash on your forehead. A nice little parting gift. 

It’s shallow…you think—it stopped bleeding the night before and is now just a scabbed over, tender wound that throbs whenever you move your head too fast. Concussion maybe—a mild one.  

Maker willing when someone finds your sorry ass they’ll have bacta. Or a blanket. Either would be peachy.     

Sitting up with a wince, you shuffle to the mouth of the cave for the thousandth time and scour the skyline for a familiar ship. Or, any ship really. The only thing you do see is a lonesome wisp of cloud against the grayish blue sky much to your chagrin. You scowl and stalk back into your little hovel and slump back onto the ground. 

The hours drag on, the watery light of the dying sun barely doing anything to warm you. Sulking is hardly what you should be doing—not great for the burdened mind and all that, but ah, it’s so fun to wallow in misery. You curl your knees up to your chest and you must slip into a doze because when you’re snapped back into the present, footsteps punch through the frozen tundra outside your cave.  

Adrenaline crackles down your spine—the bounty changed her mind. Ultimately decided she’d be safer in the long run with you dead. Fine.

If this is where your grave is going to be, might as well get in one or two punches. What’s another black eye anyway?

A shadow flickers at the mouth of the cave, curling around the wall as she draws closer. A brown boot kicks through the snow and— 

“Changed your mind? I—“

Your words die on your tongue as relief floods your veins. Din Djarin stands before you, a sight for sore eyes in these trying times. 

Frost glitters on the burgundy chest plate, glinting in the dim sunlight that touches the mouth of the cave. A delicate feathering of the dainty crystals that no high end lace maker could ever hope to mimic curls up the front of Din’s visor and eats away at the edges of his cloak. His heavy step forward reverberates off the walls, some of that ease replaced by the prickle of dread. His silence is unnerving. 

“Din,” you say again, just so he’ll say something. “I can—“

You move to stand, but he interrupts with a halting;

“Sit.”       

Your mouth snaps shut and you drop back on the floor. This…is not good. His footsteps are heavy as he approaches you and every muscle in your frame tightens like a fist wrapping around your ribcage and squeezing. The precise edges of his helmet are not a forgiving sight and even when he kneels onto one knee you have to resist the natural urge to flinch. Like this, despite hunching over, Din is broad. All hard muscle and sinew amplified by the bulky layer of beskar.   

Your tongue runs over the insides of your teeth as you track his hand that he thrusts foreword. You hiss and jerk away at the sudden needly pain when his gloved thumb finds the edges of your head wound. A low sound of disapproval filters out through the helmet in a low metallic buzz. 

“You won’t need stitches,” he says. Din reaches into one of his various supply pouches and pulls out a tiny vile of bacta. He casually pulls off his right glove, unscrews the vile and smears the bacta over his thumb. This time you don’t make a sound, even though your nerves scream at the razor like sensation of his thumb working the bacta into the damaged flesh. He doesn’t ask how the injury happened and you don’t care to tell him. There’s a time and place for stories about battle scars and near misses—it’s much too fresh to be spoken of right now. 

The brief torture finally ends after once last glance over for other presenting injuries. He finds none, replaces his glove and stands with a muted grunt. You know what’s next. You’d rather avoid it—you aren’t keen on the berating lectures—as deserved as they are.      

“I found your ship on Sato 3,” Din begins with a growl. “Imagine my surprise when I found your bounty selling it for parts.”  

Ah, there it is. You wince and study your fingernails. “Pile of junk anyway…”

“I thought you’d be smarter about these things,” he snarls, his sharp tone deadly enough to slice through bone. “Was the hole blown into your lung not enough for you?”

You swallow and bite your tongue.  

The bristling Mandalorian, continues and jabs an orange tipped finger at you. “You are reckless.”

Your chest constricts as you look away, shame blooming in the pit of your stomach.This is a new facet of Din you’ve never encountered. You aren’t naïve—even the most docile of people can harbor a temper, you know that. And you know Din is by no means passive—he’s an elite warrior equipped with a small arsenal at his disposal. You don’t expect him to coddle you or treat you different than any other companion; but…but it’s hard not to take his ire to heart. Not when it’s the kind of anger that boils deep in your chest and erupts with molten streams that leaves scathing wounds and blistered feelings.  

You chew your lip hard enough to taste blood and avoid his piercing gaze. You think if you do you might catch fire and burn to a crisp. “I’m sorry.”   

The meek apology settles in the air like a heavy fog. Din’s anger still brews, looming and dark but he reigns in his temper and switches out the searing cadence of his words with chilly informality. You’re not sure which is worse.   

“No more bounties.” 

“What?” Your brows knit together. The fuck does he mean.  

“No more hunts alone—“  

You interrupt with a scoff. “You’re grounding me?”

He strides across the small space and plants himself on the opposing wall. “Until you’re competent enough, you have no business being out in the field. You might as well be bait at this point.” 

“Competent.” You echo through clenched teeth.  

His helmet dips, leveling a steady glare of indifference. “The Crest is a half cycle’s walk from here. In the morning I’m taking you back to Nevarro.”   

“I’m not a child. You can’t just,” you throw your hands up in dismay, “ban me from bounty hunting.”    

Din’s armor clinks together as he moves to sit. He rests one elbow on his propped up knee, extends his other and rolls his helmet to meet your eyes. “Your actions reflect the Covert now. We can’t risk discovery because of one stupid mistake or a careless loose end.”    

That hadn’t even crossed your mind. Stars, you want to smack yourself. Your ship, as shitty as it was, hosted a good chunk of sensitive information, all encrypted and translated into binary. A mediocre slicer could hack through it in hours. Not exactly foolproof but hey, at least you had something. Good thing your bounty wasn’t in the market of selling stolen ships to the Empire. 

“Din?”

The Mandalorian makes no noise of affirmation that he heard you. You sigh and take his silence as a go ahead and clear your throat. “How long was I gone for?”

Here, in the cave it’s been nearly three days, but the rest of it you’re not exactly sure. Hunting the bounty down took up at least a week or two and even longer to capture her and there’s no accounting for the time lost after your ship was commandeered. Your teeth roll over your bottom lip as you wait for him to respond. 

“Almost two months.” He replies evenly. “Your transmissions were cut three weeks ago and I didn’t think anything of it. Comms are always patchy in Wild Space."

Leather creaks as his fist balls at his side. “You didn’t answer for days. Paz and I tracked the ship to Sato 3, but you weren’t there. Do you know how difficult it was to pick through all the planets recorded on your log?”

You blink and return to picking at your fingernails. 

“You weren’t easy to find, I—“ He severs the rest of his sentence with a crackling sigh and tilts his head back. “You’re lucky.”    

The hesitance lacing his words makes you bite your tongue, the snarky retort crumbling to ash in your mouth. Din doesn’t bother to filter his words—he’s blunt. Efficient and to the point when he does decide to speak. That…well that was different.   

He was worried—

You rub at your cheek—numb with the cold and curl into yourself. Din was worried. Easily the most feared bounty hunter in the parsec, worried that he couldn’t find you.   

A different cold—one that settles deep into the marrow of your bones and hugs your soul with a sheet of frost, makes a home in your heart. The severity of what could’ve happened replaces that sheen of hilarity and fuck. You were closer to freezing to death than Din finding you here—alone in some stupid kriffing cave.  

Somehow the idea of that is worse than the brief brush of eternal slumber you had on Nar Shaddaa. Up to that point you expected to die young—no harm and no foul in it either. You had no attachments, no debt to pay—a drifter in an endless galaxy.    

Now you’re here, buckling under the weight of mismanaged friendships and your uncanny skill at weaseling into any and all trouble. 

Neither you or Din jump to fill the silence. The ashes of disaster settle in nicely with the frozen echo of an endless winter.      

It’d been a couple hours shy from sunset when Din arrived, the sun providing weak light that hardly touched the mouth of the cave. Now as the shadows grow longer and with the temperature dropping, the two of you are swallowed up by the unyielding darkness of night. 

Din shuffles and fishes out the solar light from his supply bag. It clicks on and warm, orange light illuminates the cave. It bounces off his beskar, fracturing the light like a million tiny suns in the tempered metal and in the impossibly dark visor. He looks up, and tosses the light over. 

You catch it easily and despite the warmness of the light it emits, it offers no heat for your chilled fingers. You set it to the side and tuck your hands into your armpits. 

By no means is the cave warm—the natural thermal vents kept the ground dry and free of the ice and snow that rages outside, but it doesn’t protect you from the occasion chilly draft that cuts through each layer you wear. Then again, you weren’t planning on taking an unexpected vacation on Csilla. No time to plan really.  

You sigh and pull your knees up to your chest and cast a glance at your ever radiant ray of sunshine across from you.  

He looks nice and cozy—leaned back against the cave wall, one leg crossed over the other while his hands sit intertwined just below his navel. The beskar must provide insulation—maybe a fancy heater in that bucket of his, or maybe he’s just too stubborn to show anything other than indifference.   

Another bout of shivers tear through your frame and you’re certain Din can hear the enamel of your teeth clack together. You shove your hands deeper into your armpits and tuck your chin into your chest to preserve heat and pray that sleep isn’t far off—can’t be cold if you’re unconscious.    

Metal scrapes over stone as Din readjusts himself and you can feel him looking at you. It’s not a terrible weight to bear; intense and analytic, sure and in the past it would’ve unnerved you. Now, instead of it feeling like he were peeling back each fibre of your soul each time he stares, it’s familiar. A pattern of sorts—

It happens each time Din wrestles with an uncertain question. He deals in absolutes, and it’s no surprise he rarely knows what to say to you. 

“You’re shivering,” he states. You roll your eyes. “Are you cold?”

“Boiling, actually,” you snip. “Why else would I forget a jacket?”

A sharp hiss of air crackles through the vocoder. “Don’t get mouthy with me. It was a simple question.”

“Well—there’s not much to do about it,” you sneer, watching your breath condensate in the air. “I’m freezing, exhausted, and hungry.”       

You know you’re being snide—but your nerves feel like they’ve been severed at the root with a dull vibroblade. You have neither the time nor energy to spare for simple questions. Din should understand that—seeing as he’s a man familiar with short temperament.

The space between you is ripe with crackling tension, and maybe—if you weren’t so fucking cold—you’d play the mediator. Thread stitches into the gash you both sliced into your friendship, as small it may be. You’ve lost friends over less—this could end up no different.

You sigh and turn your head. This is a problem for tomorrow. 

Irritated and upset, you squeeze your eyes shut and chase after sleep. You slip in a doze faster than expected, any and all discomfort fading away a you toe the line between a deeper sleep and waking dreams. You think you imagined Din saying your name—Maker you can’t even escape him in your own fucking head—  

It doesn’t end—like a nagging buzz that swells until it’s right near your ear. Spite spurs you to ignore It and exhaustion convinces you to drift further away. That is, until a hand, gentle and warm curls around your shoulder. You once again hear your name rumble low through Din’s helmet, but it’s much too difficult to open your eyes. Why can’t he leave you be? You barely feel the cold now…

“Stay awake.” Din sounds distant, in some other plane of existence despite the steady hold he has on your arm. “Maker—you’re colder than kriffing ice.” 

“Go away,” you grumble through numb lips. Such a pest.  

He’s talking—but the words don’t make sense. Muddled—split between that hazy line of dreaming and consciousness where you can’t decipher what’s real. His hands however—you can feel those plain as day. A bare palm cups your cheek—shreds through the layer of frost you’re positive has crystalized over your skin and rouses you to a more coherent level of presentness.       

“Don’t quit on me yet—“

“Nah,” you mumble. “I’m hard to…to kill. L-like a scrap rat…”  

Din grunts in response. “Rat is a compliment. You’re more of a spider-roach.”

The ends of your mouth quirk. It’s the best you can do—a full smile just might push you to the brink of death.        

“C’mon—I won’t let either of us freeze,” Din sighs. His fingers find the magnetized latches on his cuirass and it slips off with practiced ease, the armored thigh plating following a moment later. He neatly sets it to the side and grabs his cloak to fasten it around you. With another sigh, Din shuffles in behind you and wraps an arm around your middle, nestling his legs and body snuggly around yours.   

Maker—you don’t have time to bother about the intimacy of this because all you’re drawn to is the furnace like heat. Fuck, he’s so warm. You have only a second to enjoy it before your body begins to thaw—bringing forth waves of achey pain.   

His chest molds to your back, both arms curling over your own arms that are scrunched up tight around your chest. You shake in his hold, vicious waves of cold clashing against his body heat—it hurts—like sticking your bare foot into hot coals.     

You squirm, little gasps of discomfort slipping out that echo around the cave. Din shifts, tucking you further under his body until he’s nearly crushing you. It’s a bit tricky to breathe like this but hey—you’re not complaining. Not when your nose is buried in his soft undershirt that smells purely of Din.   

Your fingers and toes still throb as they thaw, but it’s working. Cuddling Din Djarin to stave off hypothermia—sounds kriffing ridiculous. 

“You’re still shivering,” he says. “I might…”

Your breath catches in your throat as he trails off. “Might what?”

Another shiver wracks through your body as his frosty helmet catches on bare skin when he dips his head in embarrassment. You don’t quite catch what he says and he doesn’t bother to clarify. “Forget it.”  

You turn your head as much as you can, straining your eyes to meet the strip of visor. “Tell me.”

He mumbles under his breath again and cuddles closer, slotting his hips against your ass. “Might know…know another way to keep us warm…”

Oh. 

A spark breathes to life in the pit of your tummy. You wiggle onto your back, your nose brushing the vizor. “Does it involve me taking off my pants?” 

Din huffs, his hands, previously latched onto your hips, starting to crawl up your waist. “It could…”    

You smirk and rock your hips back, eliciting a low growl that rumbles through his chest. With your whine of approval, Din’s hand slips between your legs and gives the meat of your inner thigh a squeeze. You let your knees fall open as far as they can in this position and it’s all Din needs to cup your cunt through the thin material of your trousers. 

Crackling pleasure flood your veins as the heel of his palm grinds into your clit, and while the pressure is nice, it does nothing to satisfy. Only feeds the growing flames of desire with brittle kindling. 

You pull at his undershirt and whimper, thrilled once his deft fingers, calloused and thick unlace your pants and yank far enough down to fit his hand. His fingers trace your outer lips, a ghost of a touch as arousal swells in your stomach. He parts your folds once your wetness begins to dribble out and coats his fingertips with your arousal. 

Stars—you need him. You arch into him and whine. “Touch me. Din, please—“ 

You jerk as Din’s thumb swirls a slow circle over your clit, a rush of endorphins surging out like unrefined fire whiskey. Din’s head tilts to watch you writhe over his fingers and the sudden chill of his helmet touching the inside of your flushed neck steals away your next inhale. Goosebumps race down your entire being, adding to the influx of your excitement that pools in your lower belly.       

Your hands tangle into his undershirt, pulling him closer until you can’t find where he begins and you end. His heart pounds in his chest, thrumming to the dance of your own heart that yearns to break free from your ribcage. Your breath catches when two of his thick fingers tease at your entrance. Your walls flutter around him as the slip in easily.   

His fingers roll forward and stroke against something devastating inside of you, and he when his palm rolls back, it bumps against your clit with that divine firmness you need. Your cunt tightens around the two digits as they curl.  

“Fuck. Can you hear yourself?” He pants, groping your breast to elicit a high pitched wail. “You always make—make such pretty noises.” 

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words and fuck. You’re already dipping head first into release. A moment later you’re arching into his chest as every muscle stiffens in a crescendo of bliss, your stuttered breathing harsh even to your own ears.  

Your quick pants fog up his visor as Din rests the crown of his helmet on your forehead, the metal a cool relief to your flushed skin. He slips his fingers out of your dripping cunt, your chest still heaving with exertion as the last strands of your high fizzle and ebb away. Din shifts and and snakes his fingers, still shiny and wet with your arousal, beneath the lip of his helmet and sucks them clean with an appreciative groan.  

“Fuck—“ You breathe, pushing your face into his hand as he cups your cheek. Din’s thumb brushes over your cheekbone and swings his leg over your hips to hoist himself over you. 

“Do you remember...” He starts, his voice buzzing through the vocoder. His fingers tickle down your cheek and trace the parted outline of your lips. “When you let me taste you?”

You nod, and it’s all you’re able to do. You’re not even sure you can formulate words, let alone voice them right now. 

Din’s thumb pulls at your plush bottom lip, and you can’t help but slide your tongue along the digit. He grunts and slips his thumb into the wet heat of your mouth. “I think about you every night…how you came on my tongue—”

Your stomach flips as a rush of arousal sweeps through your tummy. You groan and you’re half sure you’re gonna dissipate into the floor from how hot your cheeks burn. “Din—"  

He continues without missing a beat. 

“You were so fucking wet for me—dripped all over my hand,” he murmurs, nuzzling his helmet, still chilly and frosted over, into the crook of you neck.  “I want to do it again—can I?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes his sentence. He wasn’t the only one longing for his head between your thighs on those long nights apart. Remembering those plush lips and addictive touches could only get you so far and well—he’s here now. You said it once and you’ll say it again—there’s no chance in hell you’d be passing up this opportunity. 

Din lifts his head and as you watch the light glitter in the reflection of the beskar, a sudden stray thought ricochets into the forefront of your mind. “Din, the light—your helmet.”

He pauses, his body tensing as he mulls over his options. “It’s—I—it’s ok…It’ll be ok.”

Din inhales a stuttered breath and casts a brief glance over his shoulder. It’s a dim light, kicked into the corner and laying on its side. From this angle, his face would be partially obscured in shadow…but still. There are easier ways to go about this. Ways that don’t risk jeopardizing the very foundation of who he is—what he stands for and what he so devoutly follows.    

To say you know anything about his religion is laughable. Everything you know can fit on the back of a thumbtack and even still, you’re sure that half of that is still based upon rumor and speculation. But this—what Din is hinting at, you know is not something to be taken lightly. 

He’s stripping his soul bare for you—allowing you to glimpse at that bleeding heart of his he guards so securely within layers of flesh and bone and impenetrable beskar. Din is gifting you his trust and there’s no where else to put it except for the space beneath your breast bone.   

Yet, even still—this could mean nothing at all. You have no way to know the exact magnitude of what this means to him. If he’s alright with this, who are you to question?

He mumbles one last thing about the light and sits up. Goosebumps rush up your bare skin at the loss of the heavy warmth of his body. You whine and curl up closer to his legs, greedy for any spare iota of heat like you’ve been denied it your entire life.   

Maker you hate this fucking planet—   

Your attention snaps back to Din when he makes a noise of uncertainty. His hands are cupped around his helmet—hesitant, nervous and you suspect if Din’s hands weren’t plastered so tight around the metal, he’d be shaking. You chew on your lip and prop yourself up. 

Cautiously, so as not to startle, you reach up and curl your fingers around his wrist. You can feel his pulse thrumming through his veins—alive, flesh and bone like you. Not some heap of sentient metal built for the horrors of war. You don’t know why you do it—just seems right to pull the fragile and vulnerable skin of his inner wrist to you mouth. You plant a gentle kiss there and smile when he cups your cheek.           

“You don’t owe me anything, Din,” you say, staring into the darkened depths of his visor. “Least of all this.”    

Some of that tension held in Din’s shoulders melts. He utters something in that clipped language of his people, and the only thing you can make out is your name. He lurches foreword and fuck—you’re terrified for a split second he’s gonna cave your skull in but instead he lightly bumps the crown of his helmet over your forehead.      

“I want to. For you—only you.”

Din doesn’t leave any time to unpack all of that. He sits up again, wraps his hands around the beskar— 

The metallic thunk of the helmet reverberates through the cave like a crack of thunder.    

You were right. 

You can barely see his face—if you really look, you can see the murky outline of his nose, dark hair and a sliver of his tan skin that the light touches. Attractive—but you knew that already. You touch his cheek and smile, your thumb catching over wiry facial hair and soft skin. Din makes a sound low in his throat and pushes his cheek into your hand. 

“I still want to taste you,” Din says, his voice richer when stripped of that tinny vocoder. You like listening to him speak without it, you think, and it’s a damn shame you never get to hear it. “Please.”     

Before he can escape and fulfill that fantasy, you yank him into a blinding kiss. He kisses the same—all wild edges and with desperation lining each motion—but there’s a new found tenderness here. Like he’s savoring each gasp and every brush of skin you grace him with like it’s your last night left in the galaxy.   

He breaks away from your mouth and peppers kisses and nips down your jaw, then lower as you arch and expose the bare skin of your throat. There’ll be a plethora of bruises tomorrow, and with no hope to cover them either but fuck it—Din can leave as many hickeys and teeth marks as he wants. 

If not for the cold still latching onto your very soul, you’d ditch the shirt; give Din better access instead of him needing to shove a hand up under and grope at your breasts. He gives the fabric an annoyed tug, but it’s fruitless. There’s no use when there’s better things to be sought. 

He shoves your shirt as far up as it goes, shivering as he mouths down your stomach, licks around your bellybutton and sucks a bruise onto your hipbone. Your pants are already pulled halfway down—one sharp yank and they’re around your ankles and off in the next breath. 

Cupping your knees with both hands he gingerly spreads your legs and drapes them over his muscular shoulders. Din rubs his patchy haired cheek along your thigh and hooks his hands under your ass, his ivory white teeth catching the light as he smiles.  

“Fucking perfect—“ He groans, planting his lips over your inner thigh. His tongue swipes a wet line up, stopping just before your aching cunt to dig his teeth into the sensitive flesh. You jump at the burst of pain and shoot a hand down, tangling your fingers into the soft curls atop his head.  

Din grunts and jumps to your other thigh, leaving no inch of skin neglected and without evidence of his teeth and lips. By the time his thumbs touch the outer lips of your cunt, the aching need for him is burning you from the outside in. He has to still your twitching hips with a calloused palm, and only after you settle does he surge forward. 

His tongue meets your swollen clit, ripping a tangled cry from you vocal cords. He’s just as eager as the first time he tasted you, if not more—every action backed by needy abandon. He sucks at the bundle of nerves then sweeps his tongue lower. Din’s thumbs part your lower lips as he runs his tongue though your soaked folds, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit that send delicious sparks throughout your whole body. Little noises and breathy gasps fill the cave, encouraging Din to push his tongue deep into your aching entrance. 

Your hand fists into his hair as your hips stutter and rock into the searing heat of his mouth. The noises you make are obscene, and Din is no better. Each pass of his tongue over your pussy is matched with his own deep moans that vibrated against your clit. Fucking hell he’s devouring you alive.          

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, robs you blind and crashes over you in deep waves that drag you out to sea and never to be found again as you spill onto his greedy tongue. Your fingers are threaded tight in his hair as you squeak and press harder into his mouth, riding out your pleasure until it shifts and becomes raw and sore.  

Din doesn’t pause for even a second—all too happy to stay put between your thighs for eternity. Your legs are trembling when you force his head away, a nice, tingly warmth settling into your limbs 

A dark thrill rushes down your spine when he looks up, wild hair and mouth covered in your slick. If not for the low lighting you imagine his eyes would be glazed over and Maker you want him again. Din swoops down and presses his mouth to yours, the taste of yourself heavy on his tongue that slips past the seem of your lips. 

You whine after he breaks away and sits up—an opportunity for your eyes to roam down his body. He’s still got his trousers on, a considerable bulge tenting the front. With a smirk you reach up and grab a handful, delighting in Din’s startled grunt. “Easy.”

You flash him a wry smile and give his clothed cock a playful squeeze. “Take them off.” 

Din huffs and pulls at the drawstrings. “Needy.”

He says it with no bite and no coquettish retort on your end springs to mind—especially when his thumbs hook into the waistband and pull. A slow reveal of sun-kissed skin and a sparse happy trail that your eyes eagerly drink up. 

Din’s cock bobs as his trousers fall around his knees, tip shiny and wet and curling towards his navel. You bite the inside of your cheek and reach out, a rush of arousal pulsing through your core at Din’s low moan. He’s heavy in your hand, deliciously thick and throbbing—and all of it for you. 

Din gasps out your name as you lightly squeeze and stroke down, your pace dreadfully slow and teasing. Who knows when you’ll get another chance like this—a Mandalorian willingly on their knees for you.           

Your other hand slips up his chest as you stroke him, intent on grabbing a handful of his thick hair that curls softly against the column of his neck. Your fingernail lightly scrapes across his nipple and he sways, pitching forward before he catches himself and straightens. Din’s eyes are squeezed tight, chest heaving with shallow pants as a smirk tugs at your lips. 

“It’s ok, Din,” you whisper. “I won’t break.” 

Your fingers twist into the hair at the base of his skull and guide him back. He slumps forward with a sweet moan, laying his weight onto your body that you’re all too happy too bare. His nose is nestled into the slope of your neck as his hands lock around the dip of your lower back while the other cradles the back of your head, drawing you into a loose semblance of a hug. 

Something snaps and crumbles deep in your soul that bleeds the heartstring blues, humming with broken chords in the presence of Din’s soft fragility. Your hand moves from between his legs to instead wrap around the wide expanse of his back, squeezing him tight to your chest. You hold each other like there isn’t tomorrow to look forward to and you wonder if this is how it feels to fall apart. Two spinning halves of a supernova torn apart and destined to collide and shatter into a million fragments of dazzling light.  

Yes, you’re scared he might blind you or burn you with his brilliance, but you can’t look away.      

Your fingers crawl up his muscled thigh and settle on his hip. “Lie down for me?”

There’s no hint of hesitation or complaint as he maneuvers himself onto his back, patiently allowing you to clamber over his legs and straddle his hips. His cock rests on your inner thigh, pulsing and leaving a dribble of wetness every time it twitches.    

“Good boy.” It’s subtle but it ripples out like a heavy stone thrown into a still lake. Din shudders and says your name in a cracked whisper. He rolls his hips, both of you groaning at the sensation of his cock running along your dripping center.     

Another time for that game maybe. 

Your desperation is running hot and wild to have him inside you and you know he’s in a similar boat. You grab the thick shaft of his cock and grind the tip of him through your lips, breath hitching when it extracts such a perfect moan from the man below you. 

“Ride me,” he pleads, clamping his large hands over your hips. “Fuck—I need you.” 

How can you deny such a request?

You line the wide head up with your aching center and slowly work him in. Shivers wrack through you, and Maker—he’s splitting you apart, molding your insides to the shape of him. Beads of sweat dot your hairline by the time you’re seated fully on his member, the both of you pushed even closer towards madness.  

Din squeezes your ass and props his knees up, rolling his hips up into you. You whimper and tip forward, propping your palms over his chest as he sets the pace. You may be on top but there’s no changing the bold colors of power and lust that cloud his mind, fueling the brutal movements of fucking up into you. Your thighs burn already and Maker—why the fuck are you already tired? You’re not doing any of the work.  

Quicker than lightning, Din curls forward and manhandles you onto your back. You squeak as he grips your thigh and yanks it around his narrow hips, thrusting in deeper. His right hand crawls up the front of your shirt and wraps his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. His thumb hovers over the dip at the base of your neck but he makes no move to press down—just allows the weight of his palm to do the work. And fuck—it works. 

Choked garbles of his name pass through your lips as you buck and squirm in his hold, feeling your arousal begin to drip down the back of your thighs. You’re skirting the edge of sizzling release that alights your nerves with liquid wildfire. Your nails harpoon into the meat of his shoulders as your eyes squeeze shut. Din won’t allow it.      

“Look at me,” Din snarls, yanking your head back by your hair. “I want to—to watch you cum for me.” 

A blush scalds your cheeks but you listen. Your eyes flutter open for him, sliding to the dark shadows of his eyes that sweep you into their own gravity well with no hope to escape. You don’t mind. 

“You’re so g-good for me—always so perfect.”

White hot light bursts behind your eyelids, and that’s all it takes. Your body seizes, your cunt squeezing impossibly tight around his cock as you cum. This one is different—steals your breath away and leaves you a broken husk of a person lost in most delectable forms of agony and pleasure. The cry of his name pierces the air only spurring the Mandalorian into a jarring pace to seek his own peak of ecstasy.  

Din’s nose nuzzles into your neck, his pants hot and sharp against your flushed skin. “You f-feel so—fuck. Say—say my name.”

You leap to his request and with a playful nip to his earlobe, you whisper it to him with the sweetness of starcherrries and the promise of better things. 

He tips over the edge, his hips faltering into no discernible pace as he cums. Din buries his teeth into the skin below your jaw, a mess of whines and begging gasps of nonsense as he fills your cunt to the brim. 

Your harsh breathing mingles as you both lazily slip down from your high. He rests his head over your sternum, listening to your beating heart that drums in a wild staccato as your fingers carefully comb through his hair. If not for the ache in your hips you’d keep him here forever. Din pulls out and you both groan at the loss. 

He doesn’t completely move away and you’re glad for it. He brushes his knuckles down the expanse of your cheek and dots a tender kiss to your hairline. Your name rumbles low in his throat as he shifts lower and gives your ear lobe a playful nip. His stubble scrapes along your neck, and you can’t help but giggle and squirm—but the weight of his body keeps you pinned. Your name slips from his lips a second time, breathy and drawn out in a sweet sigh, like he’s savoring the sound of each syllable and roll of the tongue. 

Din lifts his head, only slightly—near enough that his nose bumps into yours and his lips scrape along yours that are still parted and wet. “I—can I tell you something?” 

You cup his cheek and steal a kiss. It’s supposed to be quick—but instead he leans into it, guiding your mouth into a slow dance of sticky sweet movements that are caught in a slow draw, like crystalized honey abandoned in a glass jar. You’re enraptured by his touch—his skin mottled with scars yet somehow still unfairly soft. He smells of snow—like metal and soap and something gentler, that’s uniquely Din.            

Fuck—you can feel your mind slipping away, wrapped up so snugly in his presence you almost forget to answer. “Yeah—anything.”

Crackling static suddenly rips through the cave, startling you both. A distorted voice chatters on the comlink that lies forgotten beside your pants. It blinks and the transmission ends just as abruptly. With a sigh Din brushes it off and tilts his head to tempt you into another kiss but—

Whoever’s trying to patch through is persistent. 

His lip curls in a scowl and snatches the comm. “Jorhaa’ir.”

You only catch your name being mentioned twice as rapid Mando’a is exchanged. Aeris maybe judging by the tone, but no that’s not right.   

“Wait—is that Paz?”

The muscles in Din’s shoulders tense, confirming your suspicion.

“Is everything ok?” Din doesn’t resist you when you pry the comlink out of his fingers and patch in. “Paz?”

Your heart skips a beat. 

“There you are,” the comlink crackles and you smile. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” 

Stars—you didn’t think you’d miss hearing Paz’s voice. Your chest aches. 

The conversation is short, he asks you how you are and when you’re coming home and in the time it takes to answer, Din is peeling himself from your body. While you're distracted, he pulls on his pants and sits at the edges of your vision.

You both pretend when you say goodnight to Paz, return the comlink and crawl into his arms that nothing has festered with savage detachment. You don't remember to ask him what he was going to say and he lets you forget. The golden heart that bleeds molten ichor slips from your sight and becomes shut behind walls of beskar and bushes of thick thorns and overgrown ivy.         

He still holds you, but it’s the coldest you’ve ever been. 

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