#spice district? idk

[cinamun]

Previously.... | Next

[hxneyfaerie]

wandering around the spice district flea market 🌶️

[aes-h]

not so berry gen 3.5 house

[sanderssidesthehouse]

First of all, the reason it took me so long to put this out was bc I was trying to find good shots of their outfits and I simply couldn't except for Remus. Theoretically they all wear pants. I swear we've gotten good shots of them, I just can't find them anywhere so if anyone wants to help a guy out and send some my way, thanks in advance.

Look, is Logan hot? Yes. But it’s not because of the outfit. It’s because of the autism.

Just put him in a whole ass button up and some slacks and nice shoes, keep the tie, he doesn’t need a full suit, but if he’s trying to look professional, that’s literally what district managers and office workers wear, it would do. Now, if he did some character development and wanted to express his interests via clothing, we could throw in a lab coat or maybe a heavy duty apron. If he wanted to be more casual, you know he’s wearing a NASA bomber and star patterned converse but he also definitely put the stars and such on there himself. Space nerd has to have a favorite galaxy he could map out.

He’s not giving enough. He could be giving so much more. He’s Creativity and he is extra as hell, you’re telling me he couldn’t be MORE extravagant? Where are the furs? The cape? The crown? The DRAMA??? He’s playing a prince, but a prince can wear eyeliner. Where is it? Give him some gold highlighter, I want to be able to see him from the moon. A prince has got to slay, but what is he slaying? My spirits? With his current outfit, certainly. I’m mad because he can do better. He’s so boring to look at. Maybe it’s because he’s not just a prince, he’s specifically a Disney prince, but just because we’re pulling from a source material doesn’t mean we can’t spice it up, ok? Adaptation is allowed and encouraged to make improvements. But I’m also not really a Disney fan. You didn’t come here for unbiased facts anyway, you came her for my bad opinions.

I don’t think you can get any more Catholic guilt than that look so potential is met. Unfortunately the only thing he’s serving is church dad who cries himself to sleep next to his wife that he never has sex with because he’s gay but scared to admit it. She loves him but knows there’s something missing and resents him for it. They still have two and a half kids as is standard. Their picket fence is white. He’s living in suburban purgatory. He projects a little too much onto his dog. This is what he’s serving. I’m not eating it. Um, personality, yeah the fit pretty much sums him up. I hope at some point it doesn’t. I hope he gets better. Someone help him.

I know he’s on the cusp of proper development so he might get a new fit soon? Or not idk. I hope if he does it’s froggy. Give him one of those frog rain hats that would be cute af. He just wants to be silly, let him be silly, please for the love of everything, someone let him be silly.

I think we could have went harder into a subculture. Emo/punk and he doesn’t even paint his nails or wear a choker. What a fucking poser. The patches on the sweatshirt and holes in his T are good, though. He could also probably do with piercings and more make up. I do love that as a collective the fandom decided to have him keep the purple hair bc that really did him some good. I understand it's annoying to put chalk or wax in your hair every time to play him, but it would get him another point in the potential category. I just want him to look cool.

Serving- Dark sides know how to serve a look. If you’re going to be morally neutral/grey you have to make up for it by being hot. They don’t make the rules but the rules were definitely made for them.

Personality- I know exactly who he is by looking at him: A fucking dork. I love my dork ass wife.

Potential- There’s always room for improvement. Namely a yellow ribbon strip on the hat. I know in my heart of hearts that it’s there, but my eyes betray me.

idek if I’d say the cape is an improvement, I think they were right not to include it because it doesn’t really add anything to the way he’s been portrayed. Though I would love to see an occasion where he can play around with the cape because I love capes. I just feel like a variation of landsknecht would have served him well. Maybe paned slops. Pumpkin breeches. Do you see the vision? He just needs some slutty little booty shorts to amp up the bottom energy, and he already has the sleeve design to go with it.

Look, he’s not even my boy, but I’m going to defend Patton on this one. What else could we possibly do here? (I’m serious, please tell me, I want to hear about your Patton designs.) He’s just you’re emotionally repressed dad! Not MY emotionally repressed dad, for certain, mine wears Hawaiian shirts, Bermuda shorts, and crocs, but SOMEBODY’s emotionally repressed church dad. Probably. Maybe.

He’s not SUPPOSED to be all ‘it’s called fashion, sweaty’ because he’s just a guy! A very normal, boring guy! That’s part of his whole thing! He’s church dad! And his outfit shows it! Anyway, sorry Patton. I didn’t mean to expose you to this kind of outfit negativity. (This portion is mostly a joke. Idc if you think his outfit sucks. It does, that just happens to be in character which makes it technically not suck in my opinion.)

Maybe now that Janus has his hands on him Patton's fashion sense will improve. Light sides just don't do it like the dark sides.

[27nox]

Okay, so the main purpose of why I included the backstory of my fic “New Overlord” is to understand what happened between Angel and Husk's relationship before. I know it’s quite refreshing to see such a fic that is sometimes focused on the dialogue and also on the descriptions.

Tbh, It was never actually my intention to have a complicated plot, only a mild one, but I unexpectedly turned into this plot that needs a lot of explanation of their current situation.

At first, I just wanted Overlord! Angel Dust to oof Val and went on date with Husk and boom, they ended up together as one of the powerful Overlords in Pride Ring.

But it takes an unexpected turn of events that I suddenly crave for a deeper depth of the plot and their story, I wanted it to add a little bit of spice and angst.

——————————-

So if you want to know about the past timeline to the current timeline between HuskerDust, here’s it!

• Anthony as Mafia Demon was pressured by his Father to become an Overlord so their organization will expand its influence and power.

• (Current Timeline) known as Angel Dust due to him being a “STAR” and being in a relationship with Val -> to oofing him and become Overlord (I wont spoil the reasons^^)

• Henry was just a newly arrived sinner in hell, who was still new with the place and the nature of it.

• (Current Timeline) known as Husk as he left the Mafia District due to “some” reasons and went to become Overlord.

It’s like a slow-burn pace for them, it’s probably gonna take a lot of chapters, especially how Henry was the one who fell in love late since Anthony was the one who already got his eyes on Henry first but was oblivious to his feelings, but as soon as he figured it out, he kept on denial since he doesn’t want to fuck things up. Especially how Anthony knew that Henry didn’t like Mafias so he stood no chance.

Not to mention, Henry saw him like a kid, but Anthony, on the other hand, didn’t want to be treated like one especially since their actual age was not just far away from each other, the only difference was that Anthony died before Henry first.

Their relationship kind of gets better to kind of worse and repeat but we’ll eventually get to better and the most gut-wrenching scene between them soooo yeah.

And for the extra part: I’m also gonna focus between Angel and Val relationship and the reason behind why he was out of his father organization and ended up having himself stuck with a contract with Val

There’s also a sequel of this fic and prequel (cuz of Angel Dust's backstory when he was alive, idk if I should include it here.)

[demon-of-the-ancient-world]

ok prefacing by saying I *don't* plan on writing this as of now but I have to say something. this is chewing my brain and I have to get it out of me.

It sounds insane but hear me out: uhhh Paul/Chani Hunger Games au??

Hear me out!!! So Paul is from District 4 (fishing/water related stuff etc. it FITS), he's the mayor's son and therefore not likely to be picked as a tribute but by sheer bad luck he is. Despite not being pro-games and very much not wanting him to be selected, his parents have provided him with combat training in the event that he is, because he is technically a "career tribute" and that's what you do.

Chani comes from District 6 (transportation - reference obviously to the worm riding from canon, spice used in transportation even if those aren't involved in this universe) and is secretly part of a resistance that's growing there. Maybe she volunteers bc she's got some plan to dismantle the games from within? idk

Of course, the arena is a desert. There's gotta be some kind of Capitol mutt-sandworm, probably not *as* fuckoff huge as they are in canon but Big Enough. Cursed sand that makes you hallucinate? Definitely could be another fucked up thing thrown into the arena.

Maybe Feyd is another career tribute who expects Paul to join up with him but he never does so he's got it out for him the whole time? Either way he's the final boss.

There has to be an "actually two can win" thing (as a rule change from the beginning maybe, not a surprise like in the original thg) because we're not killing either of them nope we are not. But since they're from different districts they'd part ways -- only Chani has told him in secret about the revolution that's underway so the implication is that he'll maybe find a way to join her in her efforts somehow. Or maybe he won't, it's ambiguous.

I don't know if this is cursed or brilliant

[dirty-bosmer]

20 questions for writers

Thanks to @thequeenofthewinter for the tag <3

Tagging: @elavoria @atypicalacademic @gilgamish @nuwanders @ladytanithia @sheirukitriesfandom @throughtrialbyfire @lucien-lachance @miraakulous-cloud-district @bostoniangirl21 @terendelev

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

6

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

704,291 😅

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The Elder Scrolls and probably only ever the elder scrolls. Mostly Oblivion but I have one Skyrim lonngfic in the works. I read fic in several other fandoms, but this one has me by the throat.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Well, I only have 6 in the first place so it's not saying all that much.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I do the best I can to! Sometimes one slips by me on a particularly busy week, and then I'm too mortified by the lapse of time to answer. I don't think it's happened too often, but please know I read them all and am always grateful for them ❤️

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

Haven't finished either of them yet, but it's gotta be The Illusionist Part 2, which is an Oblivion novelization with emphasis on the Dark Brotherhood and Mages Guild, or Beyond the Break, which is just me crying about Mathieu Bellamont.

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

Treacle which is still hella angst lmao, but Scar-Tail does live happily ever after, and it's all thanks to @atypicalacademic for the inspiration ❤️❤️❤️ I have also vowed to make my Skyrim fic, Slither and Writhe happier 😤 Thus far, it's going... well, it is going.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven't, and the few dissenting opinions that I have received I wouldn't consider hate either. They're just opinions. I hesitated to mention this, but since I was LITCHRALLY talking about Lucien Lachance on one of Ray's posts a few minutes ago, in the past I have receive messages detailing how my interpretation of Lucien is distasteful, given he is unabashedly a villain in my story and 1/2 of a toxic relationship (also he's... kind of pathetic lol). It's a darkfic and not for everyone, I'm well aware. Fortunately, many of my very lovely, talented friends and mutuals write great Lucien fics that are different from mine, so at the end of the day we all get what we want :D Variety is the spice of life, and you can pry grossnasty Lucien out of my cold, dead fingies.

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

I write sexual content (idk what counts as smut). Originally, I wrote all the sex scenes as fade-to-black, and while they're not super graphic, while editing a few months ago I thought "you know what, this needs more cunt." So yeah. The sex scenes have become a bit more explicit now than they were in the first iteration.

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

Nah, and I don't think I ever will.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge, and unless people are out there lifting passages of my writing and inserting it into their fics, I'm not going to claim ownership over ideas. We're all playing in the same sandpit, and while the execution is my own, I find it quite difficult to say the stories are totally original or novel because all my writing, from concepts to style, have been influenced in some way by the works of others.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

No, but I've tossed around some ideas with @zomboidatomic that may or may not one day bear fruit...

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

I've worked them all out of my system at this point, tbh. Romance doesn't really do anything for me on its own without compelling characterizations and intriguing plot. I select by other tags over ship most of the time too. That said I've been driven crazy by some of my friends ships with characters I've never even spoken to before. If it's good it's good, you know. (Though I am currently re-watching Hannibal and I will confess that I am still ill about Hannigram ajkfhalg)

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

I'm going to finish them all, dammit!

16. What are your writing strengths?

Characterization, I think, especially when writing people who are awful lmao I've received a lot of compliments when it comes to writing villains and morally grey characters.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Ugh, I am so self-indulgent. Sometime last year I edited The Illusionist part 2 and trimmed out 60k words. It was so BLOATED (probablly still is). I think there were times when the plot got sidelined because I had an idea for a fun scene. Yes, I love writing Lucien and Nim hate-fucking and tearing each other apart in some weird mashup of Tommy Wiseau in The Room and the alien in The Thing. No, I did not need three chapters of this back to back, but I wanted it...

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

If the plot calls for it, then by all means 👍

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Hmm, now that I think of it it may have been a Fallout 3 Harkness fic that I kept in a composition notebook when I was 12. It will never see the light of day, obivo.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

OoOoh, that's tough. Slither and Writhe already feels stronger to me because I'm a more experienced writer, and I actually planned it out, but The Illusionist is my first baby.

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

So I may have just realized your requests are open (my grandfather says I would be a terrible witness to a murder bc I am unobservant we love adhd lol) so here I am to beg!

I never see a ton (any?) fics exploring Din and Boba’s friendship and only that. Like, my blog IS the horny corner. Friendship fluff ain’t my usual reblogs but fuck it’s also like amazing??? Idk I just think Din and Boba and Cobb deserve to have time to be just guys being dudes and bonding. (I do love me some DinCobb tho don’t get me wrong) anyway, nothing specific other than learning more about how you see their friendship? They obvs respect each other and trust each other. I bet they have a lot of weird inside jokes.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME

Beskar Buddies [Mando and Boba Fett]

Warnings and Information: Not a relationship fic. This is just a silly, not-taking-itself-too-seriously friendship fic for Boba and Din Djarin. References to canon-typical violence, drugs (spice), alcohol, and some events from both The Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett. Minor Star Wars and real-world swearing. We're gonna make fun of Shiny Dad who doesn't know he's in Star Wars just a little bit. Din's helmet stays on. Narrative and stylistic use of italics. Minor proofreading and editing.

Word-count: 3,880

He's supposed to be here on Tatooine for a simple bounty - it's really nothing more than a glorified errand run for some spoiled little princeling who insists on only the finest Sansanna spice from the Outer Rim. But the princeling doesn't need to know that; he'll be allowed to believe that it was necessary to spend as much time as was desired for Din Djarin to acquire enough Sansanna for this young man's birthday celebration hosted on one of the Core Worlds,  if it means Din can cleverly lighten those pockets by a few more credits in order to provide for himself and the little one a little more comfortably, even if just for a while. 

Din only meant to spend an extra day here at most before collecting the requested goods and taking them back to his client. But when word made its way to the new Daimyo, and he knew that it would, that another who clads himself in the armor typical to Mandalorians is sniffing around Mos Espa, how could he refuse the request from the Master Assassin and second-in-command to pay a visit. 

"Shand." he greets her once he's calmed the slight tremor of his heart after being taken by surprise in an alleyway in the Worker's District of Espa, and reholsters the IB-94. "I didn't expect to run into you here. Conducting business on behalf of the Daimyo?" 

"Greet every woman that way?" Fennec Shand teases him with an indicative toss of her head to the holster. "Or am I just special?" 

"You surprised me." Din admits, repeating himself that he didn't expect to run into her by this point. He knows Boba is a busy man with a syndicate to operate, and what he cannot oversee himself, he often delegates the task to the bounty hunter standing in front of Din now. 

"Good. Means I'm not losing my edge." Fennec answers, a playful purr of pride in her voice. "Serves the Daimyo well if I can maintain the element of surprise when I am tasked to carry out his bidding on a busy man's behalf. To extend an invitation of sorts: Lord Fett would like an audience with you." 

"Very well." Din agrees, playing into the façade of formality - all part of the performance of power and command that is carried out in the halls of the Palace on the fringes of the Northern Dune Sea. He relays a short message to Peli Motto over in Mos Eisley that his return for Grogu may be a little delayed, first, for peace of mind, before Din will follow Shand back to the Palace. "Lead the way." 

Boba Fett dismisses the people within the throne room of the Palace - likely members who serve as part of the gotra or those who had come to pay tributes or give offerings of sorts to one of Espa's influential figureheads - as Fennec returns with Din as she had been asked. 

He wears his armor and (most of) his notable weaponry while seated on the throne, save for the cool, dark green helmet which sits neatly on the armrest. Displayed, rather than worn, now. "I hoped she would find you. I asked if she could extend my invitation once I heard there was someone who did not tell me he would be paying the fair city of Mos Espa a visit." Fett is teasing him, he knows, but Din cannot help feeling the need to apologize regardless of that. There are only chuckles in return as Boba climbs from the lordly seating and moves to greet Din like an old friend. 

Warm and calloused hands find their way around the other's wrist as Din and Boba first behave as if it is a simple handshake, but remain linked for some time. Old and ancient ways of checking strangers for weapons have turned to displays of trust. The longer the link, the stronger a bond, some would say. 

There both is warmth and a mischievous glint to his eyes as Boba visually takes him in, almost inspecting the gleaming beskar for imperfection or pitting that would speak to a scuffle of sorts that might make for a good story, "Your armor gleams in the light of the twin suns, Djarin, of course someone will notice you trying to skulk about my territory. Are you looking for work?" Boba had offered him payment for a place at his side once. He believed the Mandalorian to be a respectable and trustworthy fellow; Boba would gladly extend the invitation for a stable occupation once more. 

Din shakes his head, slowly, calmly, in the dim light of the throne room. He's not looking for work, he explains, he is working. "Product for a client. Princeling who wants a small crate of Sansanna spice for a party before next Taungsday. Specified that he wanted it from Tatooine of all places." 

That explains what brought him here to the planet, at least. 

"And why come to Espa to look?" Boba asks politely, keeping the conversation flowing as he pours himself and his friend something from a carafe he's kept on hand. One that Fennec is partial to, so he is sure to offer some to her as well as a silent expression of gratitude. Asking the Mandalorian to come to the palace and entertain a silly notion was a long shot when he has a foundling in his care, so Boba had cautioned Fennec that in the event he did not agree to come, it would be of no consequence. (He would prefer what's in the decanter, but he has yet to procure more, so it is untouched as it would not be enough to split among three.) "There is not much to find of the Sansanna that once belonged to the Pyke's before it was… misplaced." Boba suggests with a mirthful smile. 

"I wouldn't have come asking the mighty Daimyo first," Din retorts after a polite sip from his glass of the contents of the carafe, replacing his helmet that had been inched just high enough on his head to drink and resetting the seal, "that wouldn't have been good business, for you, or me." 

"No indeed." Boba agrees, appreciative of Din's caution given his reason for being here. Din knew to act in just the right way; ways that would not tarnish a carefully crafted image Boba had made for himself since putting an end to Bib Fortuna and laying claim to all that was once Jabba's. "Did you tell your client how long it would take?" 

Din's helmet bobs. "I did." 

"And did you tell this princeling how long it would actually take?" 

The helmet remains still, but the mouth within it must have found an upward curve as the bounty hunter implies that he was not quite so honest with his client. "It might have slipped my mind." 

Boba chuckles, almost proudly. An old trick of the trade: mislead the right clients on the right details, and you can earn yourself a few more credits. Live a little more comfortably for a time if you wanted. 

While Din could be a uniquely honest and humble bounty hunter at times, he was still a bounty hunter. Clever, resourceful, and cunning. Just the sort of thing he was looking for. "Well, I'm certain a crate or two will turn up to take back to this princeling in the morning, and he'll pay you handsomely for the spice brought in from rugged lands to boast at his party, my friend." he suggests promisingly to Din, patting the shoulder-bell that bares the profile of the Mudhorn as he leads him from the throne room, and into other areas of the palace before he lays out why he invited the Mandalorian to come. "In the meantime, I'd like you to come with me. Out beyond Espa." 

The low hum in his throat before he speaks suggests Din feels hesitant or uncertain about this idea. "Where? And why?" 

"Call it something of an impulse; I have my business to attend to here in Mos Espa as the Daimyo of course, but recently I dreamed of camping under the stars, out in the desert - " Boba answers, bringing Din to an inner chamber that is guarded at all times, where once they have passed the guards, he shows to Din two crates of spice that are contained within a vault, " - and I have not been able to shake myself of the notion since. Could I convince you to join me, my friend?" 

Din understands that the spice is being used to sweeten him to the idea of sleeping out in the sand-sprawling seas of this arid planet, where temperatures can drop dramatically within a few hours of the suns' setting, here. Even if he declined, Din Djarin doesn't believe the spice would be withheld now when it was already offered to him. 

"Why not take Shand?" he asks curiously. "Or will she be staying here at the Palace to keep an eye on things in your absence?"

"I did ask Fennec, as a matter of fact," Boba replies with a bemused expression, carefully denoting the crates with one of the guards for a moment, "and she wasn't too keen to the idea the same way I am. And, yes, she has said that if I do this she would remain with the Palace to oversee matters, should anything happen tonight." 

So it appears that Boba wants to entertain this fantasy tonight. Not just "some time in the future", but now. That in and of itself isn't surprising, but Din hesitates for one reason. 

One curiosity has been sated. Another remains. "And if I don't know how I feel about the idea? I have a friend watching Grogu for me in Mos Eisley, and I didn't make any mention that I would be leaving him with them past nightfall at the latest." 

Boba seems to give something a little thought before he asks "And who is this friend?" 

"Peli Motto." Fennec replies from the threshold, watching the two men with a cool gaze that many would perhaps find intimidating if not for a simple smile. "I did a little digging while you boys were having your fun in the vault. She's a simple mechanic." 

"A good mechanic." Din finds himself insisting. He's not at all surprised that the second-in-command to the Daimyo had recalled the frequency to and found some way to find information on Peli, but calling her a simple mechanic felt like an insult to her character and he would not let it slide so easily. 

"And are you paying this good mechanic to watch the little one for you?" Boba wonders. "If you are worried about giving her adequate payment for minding your foundling, don't. I would gladly help you settle it with Ms. Motto." 

It takes a moment to explain that Peli will need to mind Grogu for him overnight, but Din promises to explain why in the morning. "I need you to watch Grogu for me until the morning. Something came up." 

Peli sounds worried. "Trouble?"

"Only if we make it…" Boba chuckles to himself in the background, and Fennec warns him to behave in a way that suggests this is not the first, nor the last time, she's heard him make self-entertaining remarks like this. 

"What was that? You say something, Mando?" 

Din dodges the question with some redirection. "No trouble; I just need to spend a little extra time in Mos Espa. I can explain when I come for Grogu." He hears the way the little one perks up at the sound of his name, a bright, cooing sort of noise. Peli must have pulled him closer to the receiver, because the next time he coos and babbles inquisitively, the sound is sharper, louder, but no less sweet. 

"Ha-bah?" 

"Grogu, can you behave for Peli for me tonight? I'll be back early in the morning, I promise." 

Boba makes no further jokes or commentary in the background while allowing Din to speak to Grogu until he is satisfied that the little one understands Din will not be back tonight, but he will be back soon. Phrasing and re-phrasing his brief explanation until with a little help from Peli, the diminutive, green lifeform seemingly makes sounds of understanding.

He can imagine the way Jango would similarly caution him and repeat himself in preparation for his absences when he was perhaps too young to accompany his father on a bounty. These are memories from so long ago, now, to Boba. At least, they feel that way. He's only entering his forties, he reminds himself. Slightly older than Din, to his belief. 

But roughly similar enough in age that neither of them feels any need to take separate materials for temporary shelters. Old enough and mature enough to tolerate the shared arrangement for a single night under a canopy of stars on a bed of sand where they would lay their sleeping sacks. Din has offered to start a modest fire since Fett insists he can pitch the tent on his own. He certainly sees the influence of the Tuskens that Boba spent time with after surviving a sarlacc pit in the shelter's construction once it is firmly staked in place. 

"Sturdy." 

Boba nods acceptively of the compliment, settling himself beside the fire across from Din. "I learned much in my time with the tribe of Tuskens that cared for me like one of their own before I became the Daimyo. They didn't teach me everything, but you can still learn by watching and observing." 

There's a knowing chuckle before the dark t-visor turns and looks off into a rather deliberate direction for just a moment. Freetown. They're not too far from Vanth's community, as it turns out. "Wondering how the sheriff's doing; will we need to pay a visit in the morning?" he offers half-questioningly to Din, trying to gauge and guess what is on the mind of the man clad in beskar before him. 

"Tempting. But perhaps another time." Din replies, beginning to remove a select few parts of his armor to make himself more comfortable. He did not opt to leave it behind in favor of more appropriate desert-wear, even when offered. Fett reasoned that much like his own armor, once belonging to his father in his case, the armor made of beskar carried its own significance to Din beyond a protective shell. 

"Feeling guilty for leaving the little one, again?" 

His companion shakes his head in answer as he carefully sets aside what he's removed. "Not quite. Just eager to complete this bounty and lay low for a time." 

"Smart. Have somewhere in mind?" 

"Yes." is all Din will answer. And wisely so. Telling Fett where he plans on going would defeat the entire purpose, no matter how much they each trust and respect each other. Because they do, a simple word is all the Mandalorian glowing in the light of the fire will find necessary to say. 

"Good. I wish you uneventful times when you make it there, my friend." 

They listen to the stillness of the desert together following Fett's sincere wish for Din and Grogu's safety; the crackle and muted roar of the fire, distant and slow gusts of wind, and once off in the greater distance, bantha. The deep bellows of the omnivorous quadrupeds were a strange comfort as the two men listened. 

"Have you ever ridden a bantha?" Din asks, noting the nostalgic smile evident on the other's face. The smile broadens as Boba answers. "I have. There was a bantha I once had for a mount, I think of them from time to time." 

The helmet tilts to the right with mild concern or surprise. "What happened to it?" 

"Oh, nothing bad," Boba assures his friend, giving a singular chuckle as he stokes the flame a little higher, "I simply set them free before I reclaimed my ship. Hopefully they are out there now, meeting other banthas and making baby banthas." 

"Heh. I see. Is that the strangest thing you've ever ridden that isn't a speederbike?" Din asks with a laugh, once more turning his head out to look beyond the light of the fire into the desert. Perhaps with his sensors, he could find these distant herds of wild or domesticated bantha

"That would be a rancor." 

"You're joking." 

"I'm not." Boba laughs with some insistence. "And what about you, my friend? Find a mythosaur to ride, yet?" 

"Funny… " Din replies somewhat slowly, "...there was an Ugnaught named Kuiil who claimed it should have been easy for me to learn to ride Blurrg because of my 'ancestors' who rode mythosaurs when he was trying to teach me." He grows quiet, and his body language becomes a lot less casual, less open and fluid. "I haven't thought about his remark in a while." Din admits somberly. His companion, the man who invited him for a night in the desert, under the stars, doesn't press him for anything more to say for a moment, letting the silence grow. 

"You've been busy." Boba reasons with him only when he is certain Din doesn't have anything to add. "Traveling the galaxy, collecting bounties… All while you care for the little one." The words don't seem to bring him any comfort. If anything, Boba suspects he's said the wrong thing. "Was he a friend?"

"Yes. Killed by Imperial scout troopers." 

"I am sorry, Djarin," he sympathizes, for a moment thinking to lay his hand on the other's shoulder in a gesture of comfort were Boba sitting beside him rather than across the fire. "To lose those we care for is no easy thing." 

The Mandalorian scoffs and, jokingly, asks Boba if he's certain he's as old as he claims. "You sound and look older." 

"Well, the profession ages you. And I imagine there are still a scattered few, somewhere out there, that would look just like me. Maybe even older." This is the second time Din does not seem to understand what he means judging by his silence. "Surely you've seen them. Heard about them at least, the clones?" Boba inquires, growing increasingly more confused by the lack of apparent understanding as the t-visor slowly wags in the firelight. 

"Djarin." 

The fire is smothered out with sand following the conclusion of something of a pseudo history lesson once Boba feels he's adequately explained to Din what exactly Clone troopers are. Were. (Maybe still are? Truly, he's not certain how many men who look just like him and sound just like him remain in the galaxy.) The sand is stamped down for good measure before both men enter the tent for the first time since it had been put up and prepare to sleep. The night grows stiller and serene in a way that is entirely unique to Tatooine. 

The desert planet is not for the weak-willed and those who will not be prepared to adapt. If you traversed the Dune Seas, you had different tribes of nomadic Tuskens to contend with (and hope they would let you pass through their lands in peace for small tributes), or the wild animals that were not as docile as the bantha that called this planet home. It took grit and gumption, or no small amount of necessary self preservation skills, to live in places such as Mos Espa and Eisley where you would expect to find yourself brushing shoulders with bounty hunters and crime families. Things could get messy. 

Boba Fett and Din Djarin are no strangers to the grime and filthier aspects of what the galaxy has to offer them. Bloodshed and banthashit that would make weaker men stumble and turn away from such a profession far sooner. Sacrifices and difficult choices have been made in each of their lives. 

Tonight didn't have to be one of them. A night of simple company and some time to catch up with a friend was a welcome change for both. Boots are carefully removed before each slip into their sleeping sacks after simple ration packs are eaten in silence - backs turned to one another even in the dark - and wrappers have been taken care of. 

"We'll start our return to the palace before first light," Boba explains, "that way you can return to Mos Eisley for Grogu before Ms. Motto would begin her workday after you've secured the spice for the princeling." 

There is a soft laugh under the modulator to his left, where he can make out the general form of his friend's body beside him and sees he's already laying down. "Thank you. Hopefully he will have slept well when I retrieve him." 

He certainly hopes the little one will too, for Din's sake, with a laugh. "I have not forgotten my offer to pay Ms. Motto either. And thank you, my friend, for entertaining this idea with me." 

"Anything for the mighty Daimyo of Mos Espa." he says in all seriousness he can muster for the moment. He can't maintain the composure for long, and thankfully it's Fett who laughs first, the two of them free to laugh as loud as they would like when it's just the two of them out here for miles as far as anyone would be concerned. 

Free to spend as much time as they would like "winding down" and talking in low, golden tones until they come to realize it is coming up on first light, and they have spent the whole night in conversation without meaning to. 

At least it may not be just Grogu who has not gotten any sleep tonight, they joke together as they come up on the palace, and Boba gives Din what he was promised. Two crates of Sansanna spice to carve a deeper hole in the pockets of his client, and many words of thanks from Boba follow after Din as he secures some transport to Mos Eisley. "Safe travels, my friend. Remember-" 

"Oh I will." Din replies with a mischievous inflection, giving Fennec Shand reason to pause and consider what unfinished communication is unfolding before her as both men, Fett once more clad in his own armor in order to properly send the Mandalorian off before assuming his seat at the throne for the day. "I take it you now have… inside jokes." she grins. 

"Maybe." each reply in tandem. 

Boba smiles, nodding to Din. "Or-" 

"-Reminding me to get a little more sleep once I'm in a hyperspace lane." Din concludes, bidding them farewell once again. He was eager to return to Grogu, and Din could only hope the little one had gotten some sleep. But if he hadn't, then perhaps they would be napping together as they navigated hyperspace. It would certainly not be the first time Din would potentially need to doze off when he could when traveling with a child, or at least daydream while looking at the view from the cockpit of his ship. 

Nor will it be the last. Hopefully the same could be said for another opportunity to present itself for nights like last where Boba Fett and Din Djarin could simply spend time with a trusted friend.

Note from Frost: The title was a placeholder name, but then it grew on me; I'm callin' them the Beskar Buddies from now on. Ideas also changed direction on me in the course of writing, so apologies for the lack of Cobb in the end. :( I have not written anything for one of my first major Star Wars crushes in a long, long time. Probably since I was 16? Poor Boba. So this was a delight, and I had a lot of fun writing it. Thank you for making the request!

[Masterlist] [Requests: OPEN]

[delemis]

In Adika's Footsteps, Chapter 1

(Author's Note: This is a draft of the first chapter of a book I had wanted to write for Project Tamriel. Idk what else to do besides post it rn, since I'm not sure how to proceed with the next chapters. Feel free to give a read and critique it freely ^^)

“Who do you think would win in a fight?”

Silorius looked up from his midday meal of spiced gourd marrow, eyeing his partner wearily. They were in the Temple district, shielded from the throng of pilgrims passing through the main street by the relative isolation of the byway they’d chosen to sup in.

“Mara, or Dibella?” Asked Remedio, through a mouthful of marrow. Silorius scoffed.

“They don’t fight.” He replied, incredulously. “They’re divinities.”

“I mean metaphorically speaking.” Remedio said.

“That doesn’t much clarify things.” Said Silorius, in turn. He quirked a brow as the brown-haired imperial rapped his spoon against the side of his bowl, his normally placid gaze screwed with concentration.

“Of the two- you know, both being ineffable expressions of the heavens - who would win in an ideological battle?” He said, clearly an attempt at clarification. 

“...Ideological?” Said Silorius.

“Wrong word.” Remedio said. “No, sorry, uh- Theological?”

“Can we have a normal conversation here for once?” His partner pleaded.

“Stop right there, THIEF!” Came a sudden roar from the adjacent street. 

The two of them barely had time to register the commotion before Silorius was suddenly bowled out of his seat, sent hurtling to the ground with his bowl of Poppad marrow landing square atop him. The drab-cloaked figure who had thrown him from his chair turned her head briefly, large dark eyes peering between the two cyrodiils.

“Sorry!” She called, hurriedly, and then she was off, dashing down the alley.

Remedio sat there, mouth agape, watching her flee as his partner rolled up against the shoulder of the path, his vest spattered with orange pulp. 

“W-wait!” He had the mind to call after her, moments before a hand settled about his shoulder and shoved him clear aside as well. He hit the ground with a thud just as the table was upturned by the swing of a large laurel-emblazoned shield, Imperial Legion troopers marching down the byway after the woman with rattling footsteps and drawn clubs. 

“AFTER HER!” Called the man at the head of the procession as he rushed forward, clad in gold-and-crimson armor that Remedio recognized near-immediately. Suddenly, laying there, he found himself glad it was just their midday meal that lay spilled on the streets.

. . .

Nyosha grinned as she sped through the narrow side-streets of the Temple District, weaving past tables, shrines and pilgrims with practiced ease. She could hear the clumsy, clattering pursuit of the Legionnaires behind her as they caught themselves on each obstacle she managed to avoid, drawing the ire of shrine-tenders and bystanders alike in the process. 

The noise was getting more distant, and she knew that she’d lose them soon. At least, she thought she did. Suddenly a saber swung around the corner for her neck.

“Tava!” She cried, ducking beneath the blade and wincing as it clanged against the post beside her. She threw herself aside and stumbled briefly, casting a rueful look back at the one who’d delivered the swing.

“You’ll not get away!” She heard him growl, through bared teeth. The Red Dome Templar standing there with murder in his eyes and a crimson diamond tattooed across his cheek was one that Nyosha recognized: Thraecus Corixes, Captain of the Imperial Guard, the terror of the outer city.

“This isn’t your district, Thraecus!” She called mirthfully as she leapt free of a second fierce swing, laughing as she fled south. 

“EVERYWHERE that thieves roam is under my jurisdiction, girl!” He called after her, rushing after in the company of the only two troopers that hadn’t been entangled in the side-streets. “And nobody escapes me for long! Especially not when they’re carrying something as valuable as-”

What he said next was muffled as the Redguard thief ran face first into a wall of moths, staggering and flailing through them. They parted from her in an instant and she turned unsteadily, peering trepidatiously at the Moth Priest who’d been shepherding them.

“S-sorry about that.” She stuttered, backing away warily. The grey-eyed, tattooed priest peered at her bemusedly, then nodded, eliciting a sigh of relief from the girl that was cut off as the Templar and his escort slammed straight into that same wall of ancestor wings.

“Okaybye!” Nyosha belted excitedly, jumping back from the grasping moth-laden hand of a blinded, sputtering Thraecus and speeding away towards the gates of the district.

…

She had lost them, she decided as she found herself amongst the throng of pilgrims passing out of the inner city. Nyosha looked down and check beneath her cloak: Sitting there, strapped tightly on a belt around her waist, was a small rectangular box gilded and inlaid with ruby. 

“Good.” The Redguard sighed, relieved. She hid the box beneath her cloak again and glanced quickly around to make sure nobody had caught a glimpse. That was when she saw it: A flash of red, out of the corner of her eyes. There! On the raised platform overlooking the crowd, standing there and searching the crowd with wild eyes. No sooner had she recognized him than their eyes locked, and she heard his voice boom clear across the entire street.

“CLOSE THE GATE!” He roared. “CLOSE! THE! GATE!”

She felt her heart lurch up into the back of her throat. The pilgrims and passersby reacted too, looking up in confusion. What could possibly warrant closing traffic to and from the entire district? 

Nyosha didn’t wait for them to come to their senses as she began pressing and pushing past the idle throng. Then the immense brass gates began to creak- they were actually doing it!

“How badly do they want this thing!?” She growled, winced as an elbow was shoved into her ribs. Realizing that they’d soon be barred from leaving or entering, those who were attempting to pass through had indeed come to their senses, and many were now doing just as she was, attempting to barrel their way through the writhing crowd to get past the gates in time. 

Caught completely off-guard, the Imperial Guard could only shout for the crowd to remain orderly and briefly, utterly ineffectually, attempt to form a cordon at the gate. Nyosha weaved and pushed, dodged and even vaulted through the crush. She knew she’d found reprieve when her hand found the surprised cheek of a young Guardsman, knocking him off-kilter and providing just enough space for her to push through. She threw herself beyond the threshold of the inner city gate. 

The dismayed cries of travellers roared around her and she realized she’d want to make herself scarce before they became riotous. Thraecus’ shouting boomed even over the walls, furious that his prize was lost. Nyosha wasn’t sure whether to be concerned or overjoyed, but the Templar was a problem for later. As she fled the shadow of the inner districts, the overwhelmed Imperial Guard was reinforced, columns of Legion troopers rushing forth to with swords drawn. Screams began to break amidst the commotion of the crowd as order was restored.

…

Port Chorak had once been the largest maritime gate to the Imperial City. Now it was a wretched wharf, trafficked only by fishermen and those looking to make an inconspicuous exit. More than once Nyosha had found herself here, and this time she was especially in need.

“So,” said Jenaire, chewing a mouthful of Thyrwort. The acne-scarred breton fisherman peered at her from underneath the brim of a worn newtskin coif. “You want passage to where, exactly?”

“Hettra, across the bay.” Said Nyosha. The muddy red waters of the Rumare sloshed about beneath the dock they stood on, buffeted by the passage of the multitudinous flat-bottomed fishing boats that filled the so-called ‘Bay of Chorak.’ The horizon was clear enough that she could see the Mage-Isle of Ylliolos sitting clear across it.

“Passage to the Waterfront is gonna cost you.” Said Jenaire. He spat the wad of chewed root out into a bucket at his feet and yanked another disc of the stuff from a string around his neck, popping it in his mouth. Stained teeth grinned at her knowingly, and she smiled back.

“It always costs.” She replied.

“70 drake.” The breton said. It was a steep price for such a short distance, and Nyosha raised a brow.

“Done.” The Redguard said, watching as the fisherman was sent reeling by the utter lack of complaint.

“Done?” He said, blue eyes searching her face for some indication of mockery. When he found none, he huffed. “Business that good, huh?”

“Its about to be.” She snickered. “Now, make room on that little craft of yours. Smells like smoked Kelpii-dung here.”

...

[calikiwisims]

Cora: So it's been a minute since you moved out of the building, what've you been doing with yourself?

Kaden used to live in the same apartment building, but he disappeared around the time Anthony was around, idk where he went.

Kaden: Thought about going back to Brichester for my Masters, but took up a job writing jingles and sort of never left. And I ended up moving out to the suburbs. Needed another room for the guitars, and honestly I was afraid of pissing off the Bedelsins.

Cora: *nods and rolls her eyes*

Kaden: What about you? How are your kids?

Cora: They're getting older, Fergus is almost about to start school. I've been in cahoots with Zoey to get Home Slice back up and running. We've been making some pizzas at home to try, but I really miss the rush of the Spice District at lunch time.

Kaden: Oh man, I've missed Home Slice. You just can't find a good Garden Pizza in Willow Creek.

[bluberimufim]

Hello, and happy Blorbo blusday!! I'm well *checks clock* 1h late gasp! As an excuse I can only say that today I have been packing and I forgot it was Thursday. (As usual I am @writeblr-of-my-own) ANYWAYS. For today's question, I'd like to know about food preference and cooking skills of your blorbo(es)! What can they cook, what they like to eat, whether they are good in the kitchen, or better away from it and close to a fire extinguisher!

Happy very late blorbo blursday!

I haven't really thought about what my characters' favourite foods are. Idk why I never did that.

I don't feel like a single WIP would be enough to make a good answer, so I'm doing a general overview of all 3 (god this is gonna be a mess...)

A lot of my ocs are rich kids who, until relatively late in their lives, never had to touch a kitchen. Everyone at the circus kinda helps out, but Johann and Diedrich still suck at cooking bc they had servants to take care of it, growing up. Jack, while technically not a rich kid, had never even seen a kitchen until he was 17 on account of living in the realm of the Goddess of Time his whole life and therefore not really needing to eat. Veta was living a life of Wealth And Priviledge(TM) until she discovered that Capitalism Is Bad in college - she started living with her then-boyfriend Vi and became pretty alright at cooking. And Alexis only lest said life of Wealth And Priviledge(TM) at around 40 years old so I don't think they'd do really well.

Now, for characters who are good in the kitchen! Seth is 100% the best cook among them all - he even grows his own produce sometimes, so you know it's gonna be tasty af. August and Hugo can both cook, but only Hugo cooks well. And Cristover already helped his Found Family with cooking, but he only started cooking full meals on his own when he briefly worked as a slave (don't worry about that) for Nester - he doesn't cook every day, but sometimes he does.

And now for a kind of miscellaneous answers:

B&W is set between 1874 and 1912 but, if it was set today, Markov would eat instant noodles and microwave lasagna almost every day. It was removed from the story in the second draft, but Reyna has a Thing for crèpes. Viktor (Veo's twin brother) is one of those extravagant cooks who just kinda wings it and yeets spices into the pan until it Feels Right (I fully support this btw), not that the Smoke Market district has that many spices available.

That's it, I think. I hope you enjoyed this answer!

[coffeejellysimmer]

Here are some builds that I’ve been working on recently!

This is 17 Culpepper House in the Spice Market District of San Myshuno. It’s home to my sim Lovey Hart (I love naming my sims unconventionally, IDK, it's fun to me).

Her apartment is kind of minimalist? It's mostly white with the orange wood tones, with some pinks, greens, and gold accents. I had so much fun decorating this apartment because it’s kind of outside the realm of what I usually do. I used TOOL a lot. (to replace the windows because the windows on this lot are weird). I used this new couch from Growing Together (speaking of which, I love that plant set in the corner from Growing Together)

I’ll post more about Lovey, her friends, and her apartment, and the other apartments in this apartment building in more posts!

This is a laundromat I’ve been building. I’ve been meaning to build one for a while but I just hadn’t gottena around to it because I struggle with ‘community’ lots. I’ve called this the Soapy Gnome (it’s on the Waterside Warble lot). It is not realistic at all on the inside but it’s color scheme is mostly blues and it was inspired by a photo I saw on google. (very lightly it looks actually looks nothing like the photo). Part of it was also a little inpsired by the game Bloodwash (published by Torture Star Video on Steam) nothing weird or gory just part of the layout reminds me of it.

It’s not done yet but I’ll probably post photos of it when I am done.

I’m not sure if I’ll upload or put up for download any of these lots, I don’t feel confident in doing that and also both use a decent amount of CC so... Oh! the back of the laundramat has a big open space, I’m not sure what to add so feel free to suggest!

(Ps. These photos are edited using Photopea, so my game doesn’t actually look this vibrant, lol)

[heartsbreaking-migrated]

okay its been YEARS since ive seen the og thg movies or read the books, i read tbos.as and saw the movie so recency bias is real but here are my thoughts

vasilissa's from district four and one of the earlier career tributes. once the games became something worth winning and competing in, vasilissa began training. idk which games she competes in yet, maybe like 15th. i haven't decided yet if she wins, or because i like spice, she gets very close to winning and becomes a fan favorite child murderer and is removed from the games after she gets near fatally injured (i will use my facial scarring icons or so help me)

after she's removed from the games, instead of being sent back to her district she gets recruited for some capital fuckery, where she gets to be a spy and kill people.

thoughts y'all???

do i give vasilissa a hunger games au because all my gv mutuals are doing it?? 👀👀

[deadricslover]

request?

idk if you do song posts but if you do could you write one where the main female!reader is like district attorney and is giving a speech of some sort but gets caught up in a feminist rant when one of the reporters is rude towards her? Shes talking to bale! bruce wayne also and is comparing herself to him saying stuff like "if bruce was up here and not me would you be saying the same?" and all this kind of stuff

thanks sm

I'd be the man

here's my Masterlist!

a/n: my gif! kinda hate this and it's also not proofread. None of the lyrics of 'the man' are mine! I'm just using them. gotta love feminists. yes! I'd love to do this. you never specified what song to do so I picked a pretty general one by Taylor swift. 'the man' by ms. swift herself is a really powerful song with a powerful message behind it too! I hope this lives up to your standards :)

summary: in the request ^^ I didn't know how to write this if Bruce was your partner so I made it as if they get together after? I'm sorry 😭

warnings: enemies to lovers?. bit of spice at the end?. annoying ass reporters. cursing. little use of y/l/n. like always.

pairings: fem!reader X bale!Bruce Wayne.

----------------------------------

Don't even talk to you about stress. Stress is a daily part in your life. Driving to work every morning? Stress. Walking into your office? Stress. Meetings? Stress. Files and paperwork? Stress. Stress. Stress. Surprisingly enough you don't have gray hair yet. Today was one of the biggest press meetings you have had In your career so far and rumour has it that Mr. Prince of the city, Bruce Wayne will be there watching you and my god did he get on your nerves. His whole 'I'm better than you' 'I'm richer than you so I can do what I want' attitude got to you. But, today you weren't going to let him distract you because today is your day and you will ace this. Today you were being asked to give a speech about your thoughts on the masked vigilante running the streets outside the law. To be completely honest, you didn't mind this 'batman' guy at all. He did the cops job so you didn't know why they were complaining. But maybe if you sat down and thought about it for a little bit you would find some cons regarding the man in the mask. You were expected to do something in order to make the vigilante stop what they were doing, but in all honesty, you didn't want to. But, boy did you have a speech lined up.

Camera flashes blinked into your eyes making the large attentive crowd harder to see, which wasn't completely a bad thing. The cameras for the news and for the newspaper were lined up at the front, the sides and the back of the room, all facing right at you. You clear your throat quietly before drawing in a breath and starting to talk.

"good evening, ladies and gentlemen of Gotham. Today, as you know I have been asked to talk about a long list of topics that I physically could not fit into a time space this short. So, I will be focusing in on the main point that you all are eagerly waiting to hear about which is the masked vigilante running the streets." you lay out your flashcards incase your debate goes backwards.

"As you know a man in a mask has been fighting crime for the past several months in Gotham, and doing the cops job for them which you would think Is a good thing for them so they could sit back and eat more doughnuts" you joke and thankfully you get a few snickers out of people. It would be beyond words embarrassing if you didn't.

"But. There are much more disadvantages to this crime fighting being than advantages. Wheather or not I agree with these arguments doesn't matter today because I am here to do what's right and seize the Batman's actions. Nobody should be allowed to act outside of the law, no matter how cool the costume." you weren't expecting a laugh from anyone at that moment but there was one particular one that caught everyone's ear in the silence of the room. Bruce mother fucking Wayne. You take a deep breath calming yourself for the next while not allowing yourself to get agitated by him.

You continue with your arguments getting the odd dirty look from Bruce and some reporters. How did you come to hate Bruce Wayne so much you ask? Well he basically just thinks he is better than you in ever single way just because he is wealthier than you, and of course because he is a man after all and men get the upper hand in society. Men always have. You're a successful women? Oh, who did you sleep with to get here? You're a woman and have an opinion? oh, lord no. that can't happen. Had a dating life? no.no.no. you can't play around before finding the one to commit to. Unless you were a man of course. Being a powerful women leader without getting hate, just isn't on the cards for us. And the list goes on and on and on. This was the last thing on your mind right now but some how it happened to up it's way into the discussion today. And boy did you go off on everyone. It may have been a little bit embarrassing but so what? You were standing up for every single women, not just in Gotham, but around the whole world.

"In this particular photograph here, we can see the batman phy-" you get cut off by a loud, obnoxious laugh that could only belong to Bruce.

"Are you finished Mr. Wayne? I have a presentation to present" you say turning 90° to the crowd.

"Yes. I am. Sorry about that" he replies re-gathering himself again.

"Good. Now If I could draw your attention to this pie-" you are cut off again by the exact same noise.

"Bruce, would you like to share whatever it is you are finding so amusing with everyone else? I'm sure they would love to hear." you say enraged at his behaviour

"No, it's just- well The batman is in fact outside of the law. I agree with you on that one. But he's not all bad. You are making him out to be a bad guy when he's really just trying to help the city." he says stuttering his words out of humour whilst getting up out of his seat and walking up to you.

"And what about that is so funny to you?" you reply full of anger

"Just the fact that you had to go against your beliefs regarding the batman to even be here today"

"Every meeting I have been at that you were there, you just slept the whole time. Why don't you do us all a favour and doze off for the duration of this." The amount of 'boo''s and negative mumbles you got from that were really destructive actually.

Bruce puts on a fake sarcastic pained face whilst mouthing 'ouch' to you before perking an eyebrow upwards. He could see the anger bubbling deep inside and that acted as fuel for him to keep going.

"That's not very mature of you Ms. Y/L/N" which earns a bunch of light giggles from the crowd.

you place your palm flat on the surface of the podium holding yourself upright as you push away the microphone for a moment trying to sus out what He's playing at here.

"What the fuck are you getting at here, Bruce? You're making me look bad." you whisper angrily at him

He cocks his head to the side resting his elbow Infront of your palm leaning at an angle becoming your height. he gasps lightly before saying sarcastically "language!.....And I'm not trying to make you look bad" he says lying. His face shows it all and be made sure you could see it.

"Then why are you up here?! I have thirty minutes left of this shit and you're wasting my time, Wayne" you rant.

"wow I gotta find something to argue about for thirty minutes....I'm sure it won't be hard with you"

"It is taking every bone in my body to not punch you across that smug face of yours"

"I'm gonna change the topic of discussion. Is that ok? yes?! thank you, you're a star, Babe" he says winking whilst walking away before letting you give him an answer.

"Ms. district attorney. Recent sources have confirmed that you are not in a relationship your ex boyfriend anymore. I came here today to ask you, How has your career changed since? Have you been making less money now that you're a one person package again? hmm?"

here we go.

"That's it. Bruce I'm going to ask you this one more time. What. Are. You. Doing. Here. I have a presentation to finish and you are not helping in any way, shape or form. So, unless you are going to help me get this vigilante off the streets and not ask me about my personal life that you are not a part of, then I suggest you go back to your seat. How does that sound?"

"It doesn't tickle my fancy. I'm sure everyone else wants to know though? right?! How hard had the breakup hit you? In here if you need to talk about it-"

That was the final straw. After this slipped past Bruce's lips you turned around to face him, who was standing a good bit away from you - which is probably safer for him- and let go of your anger cutting him off.

"Bruce, Bruce, Bruce. May I ask. What's it like to brag about ranking in dollars and getting all the girls that are models? It being socially acceptable to make women look bad for the things that you are doing that get praise. How does it feel, Mr. Wayne" you start. slowly stepping away from your previous spot. He gets visibly angry by this. The hypocrite.

"Wait. It's all good if you're bad at your job and even more ok if you're mad right now. Because You are a wealthy, powerful MAN that can do whatever he wants whenever he wants. right? But imagine this..."

You turn around to the crowd and return to your spot at the podium before getting into character and saying.

"But. If I was out flashing my dollars, I'd be a bitch, not a baller." There is uproar. People standing up and shouting over you because you cursed on TV.

"They'd paint me out to be bad. so it's ok that I'm mad!" you exclaim the last line louder than the rest because of your anger and also because if the overlapping chatter and angry sentences coming from everyone. you hit your first off the surface below you in anger which seems to silence everyone.

"I am so sick of working as hard as I can and getting no credit for it. I'm wondering if I would get there quicker if I was a man. If Bruce- Mr. Wayne, exuse me.. and I swapped positions would there be as much chaos in the crowd as there is now? Ok so If Bruce was trying to get the batman of the streets and I was rudely interrupting him by obnoxiously laughing and causing a scene. Would there be any hesitation in shooing me off the stage? No....see. I'm not getting fully into this today but For those of you who don't know, women are treated like shit compared to men when it comes to power. Men have the upper hand and have it easier than women and still think it's ok to treat us unfairly.....Thank you everyone for your time." you finish gathering your cards and walking off stage, the crowd livening up again with questions for you. But you ignore them.

Soon after you get off stage and sit down in your office chair, you begin to massage your temples kneading away the anger that built up that you didn't let out. You hear a knock on the doorframe and look up to see a man in a black tux with a white shirt not standing straight leaning up at an angle against the wooden frame. He's standing with a sincere sorry face painted on.

"I can't get a moment's peace" you mumble slightly seeing that it's Bruce.

"Yes. Mr Wayne. How can I help you" you say with an urgent annoyed tone

"Believe it or not I came to say I'm sorry." he says softly sounding genuine

"apology accepted. now get out I have to find a new job" you reply sarcastically

"you're not going to get demoted. I am going to get...alot...of hate for what I started. I didn't know it ever annoyed you, I was just....god this is going to sound so weird and I'm going to sound like a lying dick. But, I just wanted to get your attention. I thought it was the only way to have a relationship with you and I was willing to have one where you hated me over nothing at all. I see that was wrong and you didn't like it and I'm really truly sorry. I'm not expecting you to say anything back but I just owed you an explanation as to why I was acting the way I was all these years." he talks on and on

to say you were shocked was an understatement. You had no words, there was nothing flowing through your head at all. In all honesty Bruce was an insanely attractive man but all this time you thought he was an ass so you never had any desire to have a romantic relationship with him. After hearing this there was part of you that wanted to just run up to him and kiss him, but the sane part of you knew that that would be the wrong thing to do. Apparently you're insane. After a second of looking at him deep in thought you get up our of your chair walking towards him with butterflies in your stomach, he straightens himself curious as to what you're doing until his questions are diminished when you smash your lips to his in complete euphoria and impulse. He kisses back and you can feel his smirk against your mouth. His left hand firmly draws the back of your waist towards his, your fingers thread through his hair tugging at it while his other hand slips under your arm and keeps a firm grip on your upper back toying with the neck's seam of your shirt. Eventually you pull away and draw in a quiet breath while he composes himself.

"That was the last thing I thought you would do, Mrs." he says sleepy-eyed into yours, seductively.

"well, was it a good surprise?" you retort in the same tone

"why don't I show you what I thought of it?" and you felt the impact of that line immediately in-between your legs, before you had one of the best times of your life which you or Bruce would never ever forget.

[cinamun]

hi, cinamun! hope you're having a wonderful week! this question suddenly struck me, and i wasn't sure whether you'd answered it before. how do you think things would have gone for darren & indya in terms of character development and growth as parents if hope had been a boy? would things be the same for them regardless of gender?

Hello beautiful!! That is a great question! Both Indya and Darren endured childhood trauma that was heavily cis-het: With Indya, it was her biological father who was a stereotypical pimp, preying on young girls and with Darren it was losing his friend, also a young girl at a tender age. Someone he cared about a lot and someone who would ultimately shape how he treats other women/girls in his life. These experiences made them very different with Hope than I imagine they would be with Darren Junior.

We might get into that as DJ ages. We've seen bits and pieces, right? Darren telling DJ to stay away from girls while encouraging sports, Indira acting/talking exactly like her mother (what other traits of her mother will we see?).

This is moreso for Darren, because Indya frankly doesn't know this struggle, Darren's fear for his son is probably the streets but gang/drug related. So, if Hope ran away but was a boy, Darren may not have broken down the way he did, but I bet he'd be out there in Spice District strapped looking for his boy. Idk... different dynamic. Either way, I LOVE THAT YOU ASKED THIS! THANK YOU!

[thewheezingwyvern]

For Arcane April, maybe Shinso w/let’s say number 12? I’ve really been loving any Siren!Shinso stuff I can find. Thank you for your writing! It’s a pleasure to read 💕

This took longer than I thought but then again this ended up longer than I thought. I wanted to try and take like an urban fantasy spin on this but go a bit...grittier? idk. This was just where my brain took me so I hope you like it! <3

Gossamer Web

Siren!Shinsou x Thief!Reader (a bit of sexual tension)

Warnings: Brainwashing, Dubcon (kissing) and blackmail

It was just another party, a gathering for some fundraiser or another that he honestly couldn’t even remember anymore. When you held a position like Hitoshi, seated among the rich and influential, a certain degree of public relations was necessary. And doing events for charity in the eyes of the public was just another part of maintaining his image.  While Shinsou couldn’t remember what party he was even throwing anymore, his assistant would inform him later, he did like to think he knew the face of every important figure in the city. And plenty abroad too.

So his surprise was quite palpable when he saw you.

His lifestyle constantly had him around pretty people, coiffed and waxed to perfection, top of the line brands to smooth over any flaws that could possibly be present. Pretty faces to hide pretty fangs and pretty paint to coat their pretty claws before sinking them into someone. However, yours was a very different sort of attractive. Naturally at an event like this your makeup was applied and done so artfully, but it was in such a way that it enhanced what you had rather than attempted to bury whatever perceived flaw could be seen.

Most women attended these events hoping to look like the most beautiful one in the room, while the men sought to look the most powerful. But you moved and spoke and looked with a different purpose. You were searching for something. Indigo eyes slipped down to eye the gossamer threads of your dress, a stunning thing of spun shadow that fit your body like a glove. But it was only more exquisite whenever you moved, showcasing the elaborate enchantment that was woven into the very threads. Stars would wink and burst from your body, along with tufts of purple black clouds. But strung on a simple silver chain was the bespelled glow of a crescent moon. 

HItoshi found himself breaking away from whatever boring conversation he was caught in to approach you, eyes glinting with interest. You were even more stunning up close, showing that you held a natural glow all on your own. With every step closer, the wink of starlight woven into your hair like constellations would catch his eye, beckoning him further to you. Whatever witch had magicked your clothes and hair was very talented and knew what they were doing.

“You look a bit lost.” he said to you after drawing very close to your back, close enough that it pulled a startled squeak past your lips, “Can I help you find something?”

Hitoshi deliberately laid the smooth demeanor on thick, a crooked smirk quirking on his lips. If he wasn’t so good at reading expressions, he might have missed the string of emotions that flitted across your face and in your eyes but he caught them. First surprise followed closely by recognition which melted to a look of worry or fear. And then it was gone beneath the smouldering curve of a coy smile.

“Hmmm and what if I just found it?”

A line he’d heard before but there was something lacking behind the delivery. Shinsou couldn’t quite put his finger on it but there wasn’t enough spice between the lines that gave the tell tale sign of someone looking for a quick fuck. Curious. A charming smirk wormed its way onto his lips, hiding the way his mouth had already began watering at the prospect of finding out more of what you were looking for. Anyone who came here with a purpose usually intended to use something against him. 

“Well I guess that depends,” Hitoshi purred lowly to you, “what was it you were planning to do after you found me?”

This would have been the perfect opportunity for you to make another pass at him. To hint at how you wanted to be pressed against him in the throes of passion or whatever other way that it could be worded. But you completely skipped over that chance. One of your hands drifted up to toy with the luminous crescent moon that hung around your neck, deep and thoughtful eyes assessing him carefully.

“I guess I just wanted to see the man behind the name in person.”

A predatory glint sparked in his eyes, indigos boring into you as he drew impossibly close. Even through the well made fabric of his Armani suit, Hitoshi could feel the warmth of your body. He tilted his dark lavender head, drinking in the sight of you and how you seemed to fidget with him drawing nearer. The CEO decided he was going to make use of a power that he had at his disposal that very few people knew about. 

He tipped your head up to look into his face before purring out, “Tell me your name.”

The magic woven into his very vocal cords twisted around you, bewitching you, until a glaze had fallen over your eyes, pupils swelling beneath the grip of his enthrallment. It was almost unfair how easily he could twist people to his whim with the power of his voice, have them spill their deepest secrets and desires to him. So to hear your mouth and tongue curl delightfully around your real name, it sent a surge of satisfaction.

“A beautiful name, Kitten.” a thumb traced along the curve of your jaw, “What were you really looking for tonight?”

“You keep the Wayfarer’s Orb here, third floor behind a wall of several enchantments and and a summon from the Infernal district,” you recited to him almost dreamily, “I’m going to steal it.”

Hitoshi tilted his head, dark smirk on his lips, “And what else? I know you didn’t risk pissing me off just for that.” he pressed a taunting kiss to your temple before leaning back, “Tell me the story while you walk with me, I want to hear all about it.”

He pulled your body close to his, your side pressed up against his as he led you away with an arm wrapped around your waist possessively. To anyone else, it would just appear as if he had found a new play thing that he was taking off to have some fun with. And in a way that was true. Indigo eyes swept over your delightful body and he couldn’t help but think how satisfying and how it would be to see you a broken little mess under him. A wet tongue snaked out to lick at his lips, arousal spiking in him. You’d look so pretty arching your back, column of your tender throat bared for him to bite as he speared inside of you.

“The orb was just a bonus and a way to cover my true intentions. I’ve already begun uploading valuable intel from your security databases and placed trackers so I can find more information about you and sell it.”

“What a clever little thing…” Hitoshi hummed down at you, fingertip tracing small circles on your hip, “And I’ve no shortage of enemies so you could charge whatever you wanted and they would pay it.” He led you deeper into his mansion, guiding the way up to the wing where he kept the stone you had planned to take, “You looked scared when you saw me...did you know that I’m a Siren?”

“Suspected but wasn’t sure.” 

The dry drone of your voice was so satisfying. It was a song in and of itself, tongue curling around your forced submission to him anything he wanted you to. Hitoshi only stopped guiding you when the both of you reached the room which held the Wayfarer Orb on a pedestal. It was a smooth, polished stone of milky white with flashes of crimson red flecked throughout its surface.  He had acquired it at least a year ago, an ancient stone said to help bring protection to the owner. It seemed necessary given how rapidly he had grown his empire.

“Look at me Kitten.” he yanked you to him, the sweet swell of your breasts pressed against his front, “Would you like it if I kissed you?”

He would be lying if he said that he asked this question with completely innocent intent. The thought of claiming your mouth was tempting but he wanted to know if you had at all been tempted by him in the brief time he spoke with you. Or while you did your research. Hitoshi swept a thumb along your lower lip, parting your mouth for him as you stared blankly at him.

“Yes.”

Shinsou dipped his head and brushed his mouth faintly against yours, murmuring, “When did you start feeling attracted to me?”

“We’ve met before. Enji’s holiday gala. We danced together.”

Now that was interesting. He pulled back, brows shooting up as he looked down at you. Despite how closely he studied your face, the sweep of your cheek bones, the hue of your eyes, he couldn’t remember you at all. Indigo eyes lidded lazily, a stray fingertip dragging along the arch of a brow.

“Why don’t I remember you then?”

“I spiked your drink with a memory potion.”

Shock zinged through him then. It had been proper years since the last time anyone had gotten the jump on him and yet there you were, speaking only honesty for his ears as his voice compels you. Had this encounter never happened, he never would have known. If you could pull a stunt like that then the skills you have were unspeakably valuable and he had every plan to use them. Shinsou chuckled softly before dropping the enthrallment of his voice around you. 

The world came spinning back then, awareness creeping into the edges of your thought as you tried to grasp just where you were. By the time your pupils had refocused, he was crushing his mouth down onto yours. A muffled squeal was his answer along with you pushing at his chest. But the sensuous way his mouth moved against yours had you melting in his arms, soft moans humming in your throat as he kissed you.

When he finally broke the kiss, both of you were panting while you glared daggers up at him.

“What the fuck?!” you ripped yourself free of his grasp, staggering backwards with a hand clutched to your mouth, “What’re you doing?!”

The look of frustration blended heavenly with your flustered expression. Mirth spilled over in his open mouthed smirk. Casually he slipped his hands into his coat pockets, cocking a brow and half lidding his eyes at you. Tilting his head to the side, a soft laugh rumbled in his chest, drinking in your more outraged expression.

“Nothing you don’t want me to do, Kitten.”

“And how do you work that out?”

“You told me yourself.” Hitoshi gestured out towards the vault, hand showing you the glint of the Orb you came to steal, “Along with your goals. Your suspicions proved right.”

“Shit…”

“Now here’s how things are going to go,” he slowly advanced on you, “you’re going to put those skills of yours to work for me.”

You glared at him, “And if I refuse?”

“Well, I use my abilities and have you out yourself to every powerful figure here tonight.” that smirk widened, “You’re that one thief that’s been targeting all the high rollers, aren’t you? I imagine that they would all love to meet you.”

Fear flooded your eyes then, “You...you wou-”

“Wouldn’t I? If you’ve done your homework about me then you know how much of a dangerous man I can be.”

You had done your homework and that was truer than you would like to admit. Hitoshi’s public image was great but if you dug a little deeper, strange disappearances that surrounded him. Brainwashing you and having you out your secret to some of the most influential people of the city who would love to see you punished for your work. It would be the end of you and he knew you would have no choice but to work for him. 

And that was how you, The Firefly, thief of rich assholes extraordinaire, came to work for Shinsou Hitoshi. Through blackmail and the threat of one of the most powerful men in the city ruining you.