#my need to create sorta drowns me

[its-wabby-stuff]

I am proposing another Rise Separated AU that I wanna call the uncommon swaps. Here’s a little about my (probably not going anywhere) separated AU.

Starting with Donatello:

-raised by Splinter as an only child. Splinter doesn’t tell him anything about his brothers or his previous life as Lou Jitsu or Yoshi Hamato. The kid does not need to be burdened with problems he cannot fix.

-uses his full name. Doesn’t have brothers to give him any sort of nickname. Still meets April when he’s about 9, who nicknames him Don. They are BFFs.

-feels alone a lot despite always having his dad and April (who’s often at school). Builds himself little robots to keep him company and absolutely unhinged projects because he has no one to stop him. He keeps them for himself and has not had a reason to use them yet.

-still trains in ninjutsu. He uses a wooden staff until he makes his techbo.

-has this belief (after performing an at home DNA test from an ancestry kit) that he was once human like Splinter (he knows Splints was once human but not who he was) and was mutated somehow, but he doesn’t get any answers. Wants to be human.

-when he’s about 11, he creates some kind of machine, excuse, or disguise allowing him to go to school with April.

-Splinter, using his plentiful stealth powers, is still keeping a watch out for the other turtle boys, hoping they are not in the hands of Draxum and his evil plans.

Now Leo has been scattered around the most in these AUs, so this is just my favorite option-Leonardo, now named Prince:

-raised by Big Mama. She sent Gus after the two gargoyles who stole her champion (and love of her life), who followed them back to Draxum’s lair. Gus brought back Leo, who was a tiny, very scared little turtle. After a report from Gus, Big Mama put two and two together and realized this turtle had been- mutated from her champions DNA.

-At first, Big Mama had no feelings for the turtle and kept it to teach Draxum a lesson about stealing from her, leaving the turtle in a tank on her desk while he was still tiny and small. Eventually she put him in training, where he showed great talent. And after Leo started talking his way out of training and up to see Big Mama, she really started taking an interest.

-Prince is an excellent manipulator and blackmailer. He used to sit in meetings with Big Mama where he was asked to put on his baby charm and it would get people to make deals with them.

-Prince dual wields Katanas

-Prince becomes her child. And she starts to see Prince as the potential future she could’ve had with Lou Jitsu if her commitment issues hadn’t caused her to make him fight in the Battle nexus. She tells Prince about his father, the champion, and some stories about their time together.

-Prince becomes a hidden city celebrity, making ads for the Battle Nexus and doing various deals for hidden city company’s including Huesos pizza joint. And eventually, when he’s deemed old enough and talented enough to not get mangled, Big Mama allows Prince into the Battle Nexus as her next Champion.

Next up is Mikey:

-Mikey and Raph were taken by Draxum, until Raph decided to take a bite of Draxums hand and he dropped the Box turtle on his shell and down a drain pipe that led back to the surface.

-Mikey was found by a little girl with a spicy attitude who was about 3-5 years old, who decided to keep the weird looking turtle.

-When the girl was 7, she signed up for every clan in New York and was accepted into all of them, choosing to join the foot clan. She took her turtle, who was now like human baby sized and starting to talk, with her.

-In the foot clan, they were only known as foot recruits. But Casey and Mikey (not short for Michelangelo) gave each other nicknames.

-Mikey isn’t a known Hamato, but his potential was present in every bit of training they did. He stood out amongst the recruits as a special case, but he’s not treated like anything special.

-Mikey prefers Nunchucks, with the little blades attached to them. He knows the foot clan portalling ability just like Casey

Now it’s Raph’s turn:

-Raph was taken by Draxum. He cursed the loss of the Box Turtle and the others, but he was glad he had gained at least one, and the one he expected to be the strongest.

-the experiment had been interrupted half way through, and he had not expected them to still be baby turtles. Still he thought it for the best to be able to train and grow the turtles he wanted.

-Draxum isn’t good with names, so he put that task on Hunnin and Muggin who wanted to name him something cool. They thought Blaze or Jax. But though Spike seemed fitting.

-Spike grew up with a soft heart and mild anger issues. Draxum used his soft heart to tell him about the threat humans posses to Yokai kind. Spike got to know a lot of hidden city Yokai.

-Spike is very protective of Yokai and really does believe the humans are a threat. Known as the Hidden City protector. He’s a bit of a vigilante in the Hidden City.

-Spike is a little spoiled. Draxum gives him whatever he wants especially when he’s a good boy. He hasn’t had many bad experiences.

-Spike thinks of Draxum as his father, but Draxum prefers he doesn’t call him that, having Spike call him Master, and address him as sir. Draxum does feel fatherly toward Spike, and is very proud of the warrior he’s made. Despite his plans coming to a halt those 13 years ago, he’s built up quite nicely and believes he may have a chance at beholding the support he needs to eradicate the humans.

-Spike uses the mystic Tonfas

Some extras:

-Spike knows about Prince and vise versa, but they’ve never met. Draxum and Big Mama do not allow it. They have beef.

-The brothers do not think they are brothers. Except Prince thinks Don is his twin when he discovers who his dad is.

-Splinter has a box that is filled with the other boys weapons.

My mind is actually running with ideas for this. I can already imagine how they all meet, and what there interactions are like. So let me know if you want to hear more about my uncommon swap au.

Part two

[eiilese]

what if the strawhats had different roles on the ship⁉️ i swapped everyone’s roles except for luffy because i can’t imagine him being anything but the captain

these are loose redesigns since their canon designs don’t really read as their roles all that much to begin with. some extra doodles and ideas for this in the cut !!

nami, vice captain: i took a lot of inspiration from her beta design!! canon nami already bosses everyone around so she fits right into the role. she wields an extendable staff (usopp still makes it for her); she lost her arm over the time-skip like how zoro lost his eye. i LOVE drawing cargo pants and boots, so she ended up with a sorta bottom-heavy design. frankly it’s probably not her style but i like how she looks

zoro, the cook: my foolproof logic is zoro uses swords = good with knives. he does not use katanas to cut produce however, just normal knives. i was trying to go for “sweaty ramen guy” with the towel around his neck. the majority of the shit he cooks would probably be drowned in alcohol. he also wears his bandana the majority of the time now!! it completes the ramen guy look

sanji, the sniper: i also took inspiration from his beta design for this!!! he has guns!! and perfect aim of course. i was going for more of a mafioso look so germa 66 would be like, a mafia organization on top of all the other villain shit they already do. he has two guns but i didn’t draw a holster bc that’s annoying🤞 he lights his cigarettes with his guns. how would that even work? don’t ask me

usopp, the navigator: his artistic talent lends itself to creating perfect maps! he also still tinkers, making nami’s staff as well as having a specialty for compasses. he uses a slingshot still (no perfect aim we gotta nerf him) and shoots weather-related projectiles. his goggles serve as binoculars, they can zoom to several different distances. i drew him in his zou outfit purely bc it’s my favorite one

chopper, the helmsman: he would predominately use heavy point while maneuvering the wheel. i changed his hat up to look more like a sailor’s cap, with an anchor symbol instead of an X. to be honest i don’t have much else bc helmsman doesn’t bring much to my mind :(

franky, the musician: ROCK N ROLL BABY YEEAHHH come on his stage presence is unmatched. he’s still a cyborg, he has instruments all over his body like apoo does but they were installed manually. his personality changes depending on what genre he’s playing but rock n roll is his default B) (ex. classical calls for a refined gentleman)

robin, the shipwright: her devil fruit gives her as many helpful hands as she needs! she developed nami’s arm (definitely installed some random shit she did Not ask for). she has a robot mecha that she’s able to pilot all by herself using clones. i changed her orange sunglasses to goggle eyewear

brook, the doctor: the irony of being nursed back to health by a literal skeleton 💀the irony of being the doctor of the rumbar pirates yet being the only survivor, saving no one from the poison 💀 i went for a plague doctor look! IM VERY HAPPY WITH HOW HE TURNED OUT i was really tempted to give him the plague mask too, but i feel that would’ve changed his appearance too much compared to the others

jinbei, the archaeologist: the shape of this man demands a little pair of round glasses on his face. he’s an intellectual i tell you!!! plus still a fishman karate master. the history of joyboy and fishman island being so intertwined is how he developed an interest in history

[feyhunter78]

I’m back baby, what’s cookin??

I don’t even know what to request as a follow up to the masterpiece you created. But I was just thinking Elrond x reader again (we love the man whose as kind as summer 😩) Anyways what about a fic-let inspired by “Francesca” by Hozier. Like there doesn’t have to be direct quotes or anything! Its just the angst but also the un-ending love that pours and pours like a summer thunderstorm.(we are back with the ripples but this time it’s tidal wave) please feel free to create what you think would be best with whatever the mess my brain conjured. I’m so thankful and incredibly excited to read!! Have an absolutely fab nights/days and I’m looking forward to reading it!!

So I didn't know this song, but looked up the lyrics, got a sorta vibe and this is what I've got for ya! I hope you enjoy!!!!

Purity in the Hurricane

You had tried so desperately to keep your secrets, to hide your past from him, what you had done in the name of order, and peace. Elrond was good, pure, kind, loving, a diplomat, and healer, but you… You were ruined, the blood of elves, orcs, and man alike staining your hands, your mind haunted by the memories of war. Had it been worth it? The bloodshed, the deceit? For so long you believed it had, believed the words of Sauron, but now?

You sat across from him, watching, waiting, fingers tapping against your knee as he scanned the detailed documents, the reports that listed in faded black ink all that you had done in your youth.

Elrond set them aside, his brow furrowed, the corners of his lips pulled down as he mulled over the information given to him.

“Elrond I…I am not asking for forgiveness, I merely wished for you to know my crimes, know me before entrusting me with your heart. It is a precious thing, and I would be callous—no cruel, to take such a gift with no regard for he whom it truly belongs to.” You whispered, one hand resting over your own heart.

That traitorous thing within your chest that you found bled only for Elrond, a bleeding you were unable to staunch, flowed over you, seeking his presence, his touch, his very being, even at the mere thought of him.

“Y/N, I…” His eyes met yours, his hands reaching for you. He was so gentle with his movements as if you were still the noblewoman he met, returning home from a long journey, and not a weapon forged on the wrong side of the war centuries ago.

There it was, the distance he put between you with the simple action of calling you only by your name. It was staggering, a blade in your already bleeding heart, twisting and turning, a hurricane within you, threatening to drown you in grief.

“You need not speak; I understand if this means the end of our courtship.” You kept your head high, blinking back the tears. You would not cause him to feel guilt, he was not the aggressor, he had committed no sins.

Elrond shook his head then surged forward, lips crashing to yours with a desperate need.

You returned it in fervor, allowing him to devour you, clinging to him, desperate to memorize this moment.

“You are my starlight, my love, did you truly think I would give up? That this could shake the love from me? No sweet starlight, given any life, any moment I would find a way to your side once more.” He said, his lips brushing yours with each word.

“But I have—”

“There is not one thing I would change, my heart, my mind, knows no peace, there is nothing you could do that would cause my love to cease. Sweet starlight, I am yours.” Elrond professed, his hands cupping your face, his tone warm and earnest, banishing the guilt and chill from your bones.

You rested your forehead against his, “and I am yours.”

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @elronds-pointy-ears, @elrondscalaquendi, @dilf-superiority, @jesticace

[underscar]

Oh, my apologies! I should have been more specific! Could I request Power with a female reader who is obsessed with cute things (plushies, bows, cats, kawaii fashion, etc.)? I hope this is specific enough, please let me know if you need more details!

PRIMA DONNA

Pairing: Power/Female Reader

Summary: During a chance encounter at a farmers market, Power accuses you of being a witch due to your fashion style. Aki apologizes for Power's behavior and invites you to join them, and you happily accept. As you spend the day together, Aki and Denji go shopping while you accompany Power. You both decide to leave together and stumble upon an arcade. You guide Power through various games, teasing each other along the way. Aki and Denji eventually find you both working together, attempting to win a stuffed plush.

CHAINSAW MAN MASTERLIST | TAGLIST FORM

A/N: no worries. thank you for requesting.

i primarily based the reader’s personality on fischl from genshin impact, however her style is based sorta on celestial from daganrompa. first time writing power so…

WORD COUNT // 2203 words

CSM TAGLIST: n/a

"WITCH!" Power exclaimed, her finger accusingly aimed in your direction. Gasps of astonishment escaped her lips as she openly gazed at you, causing passersby to turn their heads and fix their curious gazes upon you, drawing even more attention to your presence on the street.

Aki, Power, and Denji were enjoying their rare day off, strolling through the bustling city streets. However, to their astonishment, they unexpectedly stumbled upon you—a fellow devil hunter from Special Division 4—at the nearby farmers market. The market was a delightful treasure trove, brimming with homemade delicacies and charming discoveries. Power, in particular, had never before seen you outside the confines of your standard work uniform.

Thus the dramatic reaction.

You were dressed in an elegant ensemble that exuded a unique charm. A pristine white blouse adorned your upper body, featuring a long-point collar that added a touch of sophistication. Over the blouse, you wore a sleek black jacket, accentuated by delicate white ribbon lacing that gracefully cascaded down the sleeves.

A simple white ribbon was fastened across your chest, revealing a delightful pink tie, adding a pop of color to the canvas that was your outfit.

Your skirt, a masterpiece of design, boasted multiple tiers and intricate white lace embellishments. It swirled around you as you walked, creating an ethereal effect. Completing the look, you wore pink knee-high stockings, adorned with delicate ladder lace, and on each stocking, a contrasting black ribbon accentuated its charm.

Your feet were adorned with black Mary Janes, featuring a sturdy heel and secured by three dainty pink buckles.

A white lace headband adorned your hair, adding a touch of whimsy to your overall appearance. Hanging gracefully on your shoulder was a plush Kuromi purse, adding a playful element. Lastly, in your hand, you held a striking black fan, ready to create a gentle breeze whenever needed.

"With utmost confidence, my fashion transcends all others," you declared, elegantly unfurling your fan to delicately conceal the bottom half of your face.

“Clearly, it is a sight to behold.”

"You speak falsely, mortal! You merely appear to me as a witch." Power accused, her tone sharp and accusing.

In response, you swiftly closed your fan, a subtle gesture accompanying your retort. "Your commentary is as abhorrent as your attire," you calmly replied, the disdain evident in your voice.

Aki sighed. "My apologies, ______-san," he offered, his tone carrying a tinge of sincerity. Despite your eccentricities, he felt compelled to apologize on behalf of Power's words.

Denji's words however drowned this apology, his astonishment evident as he witnessed your unusual choice of attire, having also only seen you in your devil-hunting suit. "You mean you actually go shopping like that? In public?" he blurted out, pointing at the shopping bag nestled in your free hand, just behind your skirt.

A playful smile formed on your lips as you scrunched your face. "Indeed I do," you confirmed, unapologetically embracing your distinctive fashion sense. You then struck a pose, exuding confidence. "Behold and appreciate my eleganza!" you proclaimed, basking in your own style.

“…”

The group fell into an eerie silence as the three devil hunters stared at you, their expressions a mix of disbelief and skepticism. However, their lack of response did little to dampen your unwavering haughtiness.

Breaking the tension, Aki sighed and massaged his temples, clearly conflicted. "Would you... consider joining us?" he finally asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

With grace, you held your bag and fan before you, exuding an air of elegance. A mischievous smile played on your lips as you responded, "I would be absolutely delighted."

"Damn witch," Power muttered under her breath.

With a nod of agreement, you joined the trio on their shopping excursion, immersing yourself in their company. As the day progressed, you found yourself engaged in lively banter with Power, exchanging playful remarks and sharing laughter. Denji, on the other hand, seemed still engross by your attire, continuously pointing out and admiring the intricate details of your skirts and frills. Although it amused you, you gracefully dodged his attempts to touch them, preserving their delicate elegance.

Power, true to her nature, persisted in calling you a witch. However, you quickly grew accustomed to her bratty remarks, letting them slide off you like water off a duck's back. It became clear that her words held little effect on your spirits, as you remained undeterred and confident in your fashion.

After one of many, you all arrived at a clothing store, and Aki took on the responsibility of helping Denji find suitable attire. As they disappeared inside, Aki turned to you and made a request. "Denji and I will be inside. _____-san, can I please ask you to watch over Power?"

You placed a hand over your heart, a gesture of assurance. "With utmost confidence, you can count on me."

With a nod, trusting your sincerity, Aki and Denji ventured into the store, leaving you and Power outside. As minutes ticked by, it became evident that Power's patience was wearing thin. After only ten minutes of waiting, she began to fidget restlessly, unable to stay still.

“This is a bore!” Power's outburst drew attention from the surrounding people, their curious gazes fixed upon you two. However, you remained unfazed by the scrutiny, gracefully embracing the attention that came your way.

"Blood fiend, your sentiments resonate with me," you responded calmly, acknowledging Power's boredom. "However, I made a promise to Hayakawa to watch you."

Power tilted her chin, contemplating your words. "Or... we could leave this domain together. In doing so, you would still fulfill your promise of keeping an eye on me. Yes! I am a genius!"

You pondered for a moment, considering Power's proposition. A mischievous smile played on your lips as you replied, "Hm, you make a compelling argument. Let us embark on a leisurely stroll through the various shops, shall we? I'm sure we'll find something to pique our interests."

With each step along the bustling streets, you and Power indulged in the simple pleasure of exploration, not particularly focused on buying anything. However, Power's impulsive nature led her to touch nearly every item she came across, prompting you to swiftly reprimand her by slapping her wrist with your fan and displaying your devil hunter ID to ease each shop owners worries of the fiend.

As you continued your leisurely stroll, your eyes alighted upon a storefront that sparked a genuine smile upon your lips."Oh my, an arcade!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with delight. "Truly a haven for joy and amusement. Let us enter and immerse ourselves in its enchantment."

Power's eyes widened with excitement as she eagerly agreed, and together you made your way towards the arcade, ready to embrace the allure of games and fun.

As you gazed into the arcade, memories of your own past flooded your mind. “I spent a majority of my upcoming in arcades like this one,” you shared, a touch of nostalgia coloring your voice. With a gentle chuckle, you elegantly held your cheek, reflecting on those days. "My entire allowance was blissfully squandered on these captivating machines," you admitted, your tone filled with fondness.

Power, always quick to assert her skills, pointed at herself with a smug smirk, showcasing her razor-sharp teeth. "Well, I, Power, am a master of these children games," she proclaimed proudly. "So skilled, in fact, that I can make children wet their pants in awe! Ha!”

You raised an impressed eyebrow, acknowledging her claim. "Impressive, indeed," you remarked.

After presenting your devil hunter ID to the arcade owner, granting you both access, you took on the role of Power's guide, showing her the ropes in various games. Despite her earlier claims of mastery, Power proved to be less skilled than she had initially boasted, resulting in a fair share of playful teasing and laughter between the two of you. As you moved from one game to another, honing your own skills and sharing in the joy of friendly competition, you momentarily lost sight of Power. However, it didn't take long for you to spot her standing near a machine that seemed strangely deserted, devoid of any other players.

"That object bears a striking resemblance to Meowy!" Power exclaimed excitedly, her face pressed against the glass of some claw machine in the corner.

With a graceful stride, you approached to get a better view, the click of your heels echoing through the room. You placed your shopping bag to the ground as you stared inside. The machine held an assortment of stuffed cats, each in various sizes and colors. However, it was the white one with a small splotch of brown between it’s triangle ears that had Power completely captivated.

"A claw machine, my eternal nemesis," you remarked, a touch of elegance in your voice.

Power scowled in agreement. "Indeed, mine as well. The machine has eaten all my loot."

“It is quite…kawaii.” A flick of your fan caused a sharp rustling sound, drawing the attention of those around you. "Together, we shall vanquish this common adversary!" you declared, quickly pulling out your coin purse.

Two hours then passed, along with an abundance of money, and Aki and Denji finally found you both after tirelessly searching since the sun had now set. Aki had intended to deliver a stern lecture, primarily directed at you, considering your competence. However, upon witnessing both of you engrossed in a claw machine game, shoulder to shoulder, his frustration seemed to melt away.

Denji, on the other hand, found the whole situation rather foolish. With a real cat waiting at home, he couldn't comprehend why you both were expending so much energy to acquire a mere stuffed feline. Nevertheless, your determination remained unwavering.

“The treasure must be acquired!” you both argued.

As another ten minutes ticked by, Denji's impatience mirrored Power's, and he couldn't resist giving the claw machine a try himself. However, luck was not on his side, and he ended up losing all his money in his failed attempts. Consumed by anger, he unleashed a forceful punch that shattered the glass barrier. Nonchalantly, he shrugged his shoulders, seemingly unaffected by the act of violence.

"See? Easy!" Denji declared, flicking off the droplets of blood oozing from his fist. With an astonishing display of resilience, he effortlessly removed the shards of glass from his hand, exhibiting no signs of pain or distress.

“VICTORY IS OURS!” Power exclaimed triumphantly, seizing the Meowy plush through the shattered glass.

"What an elegant performance!" you chimed in, gracefully retrieving another plush resembling Meowy.

The deafening crash of shattered glass drew the attention of the claw machine owner, who hurriedly made their way toward the commotion. Their face contorted with a mix of disbelief and fury as they confronted the scene unfolding before them. "What the hell are you doing?!" the owner's voice boomed with anger, resonating through the air.

Their eyes darted from the broken glass to Denji, still standing amidst the aftermath of his impulsive act. The owner's tone carried a blend of disbelief, frustration, and concern for their damaged property.

Aki, caught off guard by the sudden confrontation, struggled to form a coherent response. His mind raced, desperately searching for the right words to defuse the situation. However, the weight of the situation and the owner's stern gaze seemed to render him speechless. His mouth opened and closed, but no words emerged, leaving him in a state of bewildered silence.

As the sun set, casting its golden glow over the horizon, the group of devil hunters began their departure, steadily walking into the distance. Power's exuberant voice rang out triumphantly, her arm thrusting the Meowy Junior plush high above her head. "Bow down to the mighty Meowy Junior!" she declared with a mix of jubilation and playful bravado, reveling in the victory of their claw machine conquest.

Meanwhile, you held your Meowy cat plush close to your heart. You glanced at the blood fiend and a surge of affection washed over you, embracing you in a wave of warmth. Denji and Aki gallantly shouldered the burden of the shopping bags, with Aki taking the extra load of yours. A gentle smile bloomed on your face, captivated by the exquisite craftsmanship that adorned the plush companion.

"Hayakawa, isn't this little cutie just absolutely adorable?" you whispered, your voice filled with fondness and delight. "What a delightful outing we've had!" You reveled in the joyous atmosphere, relishing the camaraderie and the simple pleasures of the day's adventure.

Aki's face contorted into a displeased frown, radiating an unmistakable sense of anger. Dealing with Power and Denji alone was already challenging enough, and your absence of support only compounded his frustration. It was difficult for him to grasp the fact that he had been banned from the arcade and was now obligated to pay the damages.

Admittedly, you had offered to split the cost, but regardless, Aki had resolved in his mind that the next time he crossed paths with you in public, he would not approach.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

© UNDERSCAR 2023 - All rights are reserved to underscar. Do not repost, copy, change/modify, plagiarize, translate or screenshot my work: this will also include not reposting my writing on other social media platforms and writing platforms.

[yeehawbvby]

Falling Away With You | Ch. 28*

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Y/n discovers that her first non-passive magical ability is... clairvoyance. 👀

Enjoy and take care x

Author’s Note: n/a

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3!

Prev | Next

It’s the first day of autumn, and it’s fucking raining. Like, pouring so hard that if I were to even try to farm in this, I’d probably wind up drowning the plants before they’ve sprouted from their seeds… 

If that’s how plants work? I’m still new to this, leave me alone.

I didn’t rest well, given the contents of the first dream to plague my sleep Yoba help me so I guess it works out. 

Knowing Seb’s gonna be busy with work today, and that he probably isn’t awake yet, I send him a good morning text. A little, “I love you, don’t fuck up your codes, remember to drink water specifically and eat, have a nice day!!” sorta deal.

After a long, hot shower, I brew some coffee, make breakfast, and eat it with Cannoli snuggled in my lap. Hearing something other than droplets patter outside my door — probably Joja litter blowing around in the rain, if I had to guess — reminds me to check the mailbox before I get too lazy. So, after finishing my food, I reluctantly get changed into something warmer. 

Might as well look cute, just in case I need to go into town or something. Despite the weather, it’s early enough in the season that it’s not quite cold yet, so I’ve decided to wear a skirt. I’ll go with… a black one, today! I pair it with a big red jumper and white thigh highs. My black boots and jacket will pull it all together more for sure. 

Deciding to just fix up my hair and face after grabbing the mail, I toss the last pieces of my outfit together and head outside. 

The air is a perfect mix between chilly and comfortable, and the rain mixing with crisp air and wet soil has created an eerie fog around the land. Smells nice, too. I’m so fucking happy it isn’t summer anymore. When I finally stop basking in how lovely today’s ~ambience~ is, I make my way towards the mailbox. 

There’s only one note in it, aside from the newspaper. Before even reading the envelope, something tells me it’s from Magnus. He always has the prettiest stationary — sometimes a deep blue coated in stars, other times a royal purple with gold flecks pressed into the paper.  This envelope is a deep red with silver and gold embellishments. So extra… so elegant. Couldn’t be me.

Hugging the fragile cargo under my jacket, I jog back indoors. After removing my wet shoes and coat, I seat myself on the ground next to Mr. Cannoli, before eagerly opening up my mail. 

After reading, I conclude that it was probably Magnus who was making that noise outside earlier – he wants me to come over today if I can, having predicted that I won’t be farming in conditions like this. 

But… god, it’s gonna be weird going there after the dream I had. Should I?

I sigh, and quietly consult the cat of wisdom. “What do you think, Old Master Cannoli?” Whoa. Haven’t used this guy’s full name in a while!

He trills at me. 

I groan, being all too loyal to my headcanon that any noise in response to my questions is that of encouragement. 

I mean… it’s not like Magnus knows about the dream, y’know? All I have to do is not think too loudly — however the fuck that works — and we’ll be good. Right? 

Right! 

Cool! I got this!

A quick blow out and some light coats of waterproof mascara later, I’m out the door. 

_______________

When I arrive at Magnus’ tower, I let myself in. I’m assuming he’s busy, considering he didn’t intrude on my brain when I got close, and he’s reassured me before that I can just… go inside whenever I want, as long as he’s home. I’m sure he won’t mind.

I wipe down my boots on his doormat before removing them, then remove my hood and hang up my jacket on the prongs next to the entrance. Focused on making sure my skirt isn’t riding up or sticking anywhere weird from the rain and wind, I don’t actually look forward until I’m at the entryway to the main room. 

When I do shift my vision, Magnus is surrounded by Junimos in the center of his spell circle: all of them speaking over each other, bouncing off his limbs, trying to compete for his attention. In the center, his bright red eyes are blazing with annoyance. 

“Release yourselves at once!” he growls. 

“Razmatasmodiums!” A small pink junimo exclaims, hanging off of his sleeve with their tiny, twig-like arms and kicking their puny little feet around. Another one, hopping in place and using Magnus’ leg to propel themself into various flips, is laughing with glee. A similarly sized red junimo exclaims “Magic! Magink wisard!” as they wave their arms, trying to be noticed.

…I’m gonna throw up.

I inch closer. Quietly. Cautiously. 

This is… just a weird coincidence, yeah?

“M-Magnus?” I mutter, just loud enough for him to hear me over the junimos’ ruckus.

“Ah!” He gasps, his eyes somewhere between red and pink now, as a similar tint consumes his gray complexion as well. “I’m— agh, will you quit it?!”  He tries to explain the situation to me as his eyes are swallowed by scarlet again, continuing to be cut off by his little elemental friends. “Sto– confound it, you- Fucking hell…!” He sighs. “(Y/n), would you be so kind as to retrieve that book on the ground? Please.”

Is this some kind of sick joke?

In awe, I pick up the book, and my eyes scan the page as he instructs me on what to read. I find it before he can even finish talking. It’s the same spell I read for him in my dream. 

As I abide, the chirping of junimos fills the room, and suddenly, all but one are gone. The remaining junimo looks how you’d imagine an animated wild plum to appear. 

Magnus kneels down, and the junimo happily jumps into his outstretched hand. 

In a trance, his murmurs to the small creature fade from my ears. I slowly return the book back to its spot, and when I return, I opt for the opposite side of Magnus, nearer to the wall. He places the junimo back down, asking them to tell us more of their background.

I nod along, acting like I’m fine, but I want to fucking scream. 

Since arriving, every single thing aside from a few tweaks on my end parallels what I’d dreamt of last night. Right down to the junimo’s story, word for word. 

I have to be asleep. This is a new recurring dream. There’s no way this is actually happening, right?

“I merely wanted to commune with the little sprites…” Static noise fills my brain as Magnus finishes his spiel.

Unable to bring myself to respond, I nod.

“Now, seeing as that’s all taken care of…” 

Magnus inches towards me until I’m backed against the wooden low trim of the wall. Both of his large arms extend outward, his palms flat against the stones above my shoulders as he effectively traps me in place. 

I’m dumbfounded by the intimate proximity. A piece of me wants to tear my widened eyes from his, now a deep, syrupy red. But I feel delectably small below his gaze, and quite frankly can’t bring myself to move even though I absolutely should. I want to run — to get as far from here as possible before I embarrass myself and put my relationship on the line — but something is keeping me glued in place.

He finally continues, “Tell me the truth, (y/n). Were you tempted to laugh?”

Nervous and hesitant, I smile, a giggle exhaling its way out. Can’t help it. It was quite a sight to see, even if it wasn’t my first time. Unable to lie, my answer comes out more hushed than intended. 

“Yeah, I was.”

I nervously gnaw my lip as Magnus sighs and rolls his eyes. He laughs, and a chill runs down my spine as I feel his breath on my face. 

“I suppose it was quite funny… nonetheless, no one hears of this,” he murmurs, a frustrated rasp adding depth to his already low voice. 

I slowly nod, gaze planted into his. My head feels swimmy, like I’m locked into a hypnosis. “My lips are sealed.”

His eyes flicker down to my mouth, as if taking the phrase literally. They linger as he wets his own lips, seemingly tempted by the close quarters. Fuck, he has nice lips. Those stupid, smooth lips. They curl into a devilish grin before Magnus speaks again, and my cheeks feel hot as coal while my core fills with a familiar warmth.

“While I appreciate your honesty, I ought to punish you.” 

Oh god.

“Y-yeah?” 

“Indeed. You should know not to poke fun at such significant affairs.”

There’s no way it’ll be the same “punishment”… no way in hell. 

“How would you do it?” I tentatively ask, fiddling with the collar of my sweater in both hands. As I do so, my fear — which seemed to have dwindled a bit — escalates again. 

This is the same sweater I wore in the dream.

In fact, my entire goddamn outfit is the same. I hadn’t even noticed that while getting dressed.

Smirking, Magnus leans down a full, like, almost two feet or whatever the fuck it is to reach my ear, and mutters a quiet incantation against my lobe.

The same spell from my dream.

While I, unfortunately, was just feeling the same feelings from my dream because I’m a stupid insatiable moron who can’t not get frazzled in such an intimate position, nor can I stop thinking about that fucking dream.

“No…” I mouth silently to myself, just as he finishes cursing me.

Everything continues to play out just as that stupid fucking dream had it. 

He walks away chuckling.  

My chest heaves. 

My lungs, head, and pussy ache. 

I’ve never had in-depth sexual thoughts about Magnus aside from in that stupid dumb ridiculous fucking dream, but here I am, thinking of all the ways that he could fuck me. 

All the ways I want him to fuck me… all the ways I can take his coc–

No.

Eyes wide, I recite myself. Another way of confirming this is really happening.

“W-what did you do?” I ask. It comes out airy and whiny. “Magnus, what the fuck is this?”

“Punishment fit for a naughty apprentice, of course.”

Oh my fucking god, no.

Rather than trying to quench my “thirst” with water like my dumbass self did clairvoyantly, I make way for the cauldron. I can’t safely get any closer to him than this but I need his attention before anything else happens.

“Magnus,” I accidentally whine. His head whips around, his cheeks dusted pink, probably at the way I said his name if I had to guess. “You need to undo this, r-right fucking now.”

He begins to approach me. I almost stride towards him as well. Wanna touch him–

Fuck.

I back away, shaking my head. My hands’re curled beneath my sleeves as I shake them too, out in front of my body, signaling him to stop moving. 

“M-Mag–” Mother of god, he is so hard to resist. “Do not go near me, please jus’ undo th’spell.” 

Just like in the dream, my speech is rapidly becoming impaired. The only sounds my vocal cords want to produce are moans.

I nearly raised my voice at him a bit and I’m frantic and I feel terrible for acting this way, but at the same time, this is urgent. Can’t afford for it to go on as long as it did during that dream because I will break and if real life were to play out anything like the dream then it would end in Magnus fingerbanging me and then us doing god knows what else.

Hands on my hips and beginning to pace, I breathe out deeply. It sounds like a moan, as far as I can tell. There’s no trusting my judgment with such foggy hearing, albeit I can definitely make out the intrigued hum coming from the wizard nearby—

“Well,” Magnus thankfully stops in his tracks, before saying his piece:

“The only way to stop it is with a reversal spell, conducted by the enchanter…” he motions at himself. “Or, to obtain whatever it is you desire so greatly.” He motions at me.

“Please,” I slur, shaking my head, “Jus’ reverse it.” I pause to curse under my breath, running two vibrating hands through my hair. “Please.”

Taking one step closer, as I take one step back, Magnus speaks with furrowed brows. Almost amusedly. “Most in your position would go running to retrieve the end to their suffering,” he says softly. Knowingly.

I wonder if he’s actually that condescendingly cheeky during–

No!

Before he can say the next line from the dream, I nearly shout, “M’serious, please!”

Flustered tears are now lightly streaming down my face as I force myself to look into his eyes, that have been shifting in color too often for me to pinpoint what he feels.

Eyes that could easily destroy me right now, with a single dark-red glimpse.

Orbs I could gaze into while they look down at me through musky lenses and an absolutely sinful grin.

Eyes that would scan me with incomparable lust while we’re tangled on the purple and red sofa downstairs as he fucks me senseless, a stark contrast to his hands gently worshiping my body… Softly stroking my hair and telling me how good I’m taking him as I writhe against his—

Oh god, I didn’t need to close my eyes to envision all that this time. 

This is sooo bad!

Seemingly none the wiser, Magnus continues to examine me. He sighs, concern plastered on his features. He’s doing his best to remain calm around someone who is clearly losing their entire mind. Gotta give him props for that.

“In order to reverse it, I need to know what it is you want so desperately.”

I groan into my hands. “S’this a fucking fill-in-th’blank exam? Are ya kidding?!” I strain out. 

Magnus’ deliciously low laugh sends a shock to my core. I wince through a light moan, triggered by nothing more than his sound. Pressing my back against the counter near the sink and clutching the wood, I let out a shaky, airy, needy breath.

I… oh god, I need him.

“I’m sorry, but it essentially is the same concept,” Magnus clarifies. 

He seems distracted — maybe even fascinated — by me, as my eyes lustfully skim over his physique against my better judgment. 

He’s leaning over the cauldron as he observes me, his long and veiny hands clutching the pot in front of him. Magnus’ black tunic contrasts beautifully against his light gray skin… slightly unbuttoned to expose some of his chest, clinging to his waist perfectly, and the sleeves neatly rolled up his forearms. 

He looks irresistible—

No!

I make my way towards the end facing him and clutch onto the metal for dear life. Breathing as though I just ran a marathon.

Staring at the bubbles below me, I prepare to give him my answer. It’ll be so goddamn humiliating, but this is a life-or-death (of my relationship) situation. 

“Y-you.” It comes out as barely a whisper. 

“Me?” Magnus questions. “What do you mean by—“

“You, Magnus!” 

My eyes lock into his pleadingly, as his lids widen as he realizes exactly what I mean, turning that beautifully blood-like red as his cheeks are painted scarlet. 

My brows raise and I squeeze my eyes shut, whispering “Fuck!” to myself as more lewd imagery of Magnus fills my head. “I dreamt this,” I anxiously explain. “C-can see th’future now I guess.”

…Or something. If I’m altering what I foresaw, it clearly isn’t entirely true, unless I’m about to bend time or some shit. I swallow harshly, needing a breather, and subconsciously let out a heady whimper as I watch his eyes trail my form. Magnus’ irises are blown wide and his own chest is beginning to noticeably heave. 

Holy fuck, is he getting turned on by knowing that he’s the reason for this hysterically horny behavior from me?

That’s… 

That’s so fucking hot—

No!

“W-what we did in… w’can’t…”

I shouldn’t have looked at him. I can barely speak after seeing how he just near-shamelessly undressed me with his eyes. I need him so bad. His hands. 

His mouth. 

His cock. 

No!

“Mm– Please, Magnus~”  

…Oh god that came out TERRIBLY wrong.

After a moment of what looks like none other than deep moral contemplation, holy fuck this is testing him just as much as it’s testing me, Magnus makes way around the cauldron to approach me. 

Doe eyed, I scan his body again. Then I quickly snap-to and begin backing away. 

“Wha— No!”

He mutters his next words cautiously and raises a palm softly, as if approaching a feral animal… not that I’m very far off right now. 

“I need to touch you.” 

I try to ask what he means, but a measly “Huh?!” comes from my throat. 

“I cannot free you of this without contact.” 

…This is a nightmare. It takes a few seconds before I can bring myself to tentatively nod and stop avoiding him. 

When Magnus finally approaches me, rather than touching my shoulder or hand, he tucks away a stray section of hair that was falling into my eyes and cups my face. 

I close my lids, trying to ground myself, trying so hard not to cheat on Sebastian against my will. Doesn’t last long before I’m imagining the wizard holding my face like this while he absolutely plows the shit out of me from below, so I open my eyes and try my best to keep them trained on his shirt.

His thumb strokes my cheek as I lean into the sensation. “You seem to respond so… actively, to such a simple touch.” 

Magnus’ thumb trails to my trembling bottom lip. Running gentle lines across its chapped edges. Taunting me. 

On autopilot, my mouth parts ever so slightly. I crane my head up further to see Magnus’ face, and he has a devious smile on his lips. In his eyes? That same dreamy, aching, smitten, horny look that Seb gives me. 

Magnus stalls his stroke once the pad of his thumb reaches the center of my lip, and puts just a smidge of pressure on it; pulling it down slightly, before letting go, and letting my lip spring back into place.

He cups both hands around my face and I swallow back a pitiful moan. I shut my eyes, recall why I haven’t just been hiding behind my eyelids this whole time, and open them again. 

“Please…”

“Sorry,” he grins. A frustrated sob bubbles in my throat. “I’ll stop toying with you.”

At last, he speaks his arcane gibberish. As he works, I put my hands on his, unable to resist. Needing to at least feel his fingers being placed against me, if I can’t have the rest of him. 

His eyes are shut but I gaze up at him anyway, admiring how beautiful he is and thinking about how badly I want him. 

How tempting it is to cup his jaw beneath my palms.

How much I yearn to just climb up him somehow to reach his lips and kiss them, and kiss his little beauty mark, and his perfect button-nose, and lift his hair to see his forehead and kiss there too, and kiss his neck and bite his neck, and—

Upon his last words, my desires dissipate. I can breathe easy and think somewhat straight again. Experiencing this in person rather than in a dream leaves me filled to the brim with want, still... but at least I’m not a monster who’s ready to do anything I can to get laid by him anymore. 

I close my eyes as Magnus’ begin to open, super thankful to be able to not see him fucking me when I do so.

“Thank you,” I whisper through a sigh. 

Now that I’m not literally in heat anymore, I can decipher that my face is the warmest part of my body. When I open my eyes, I can’t bring myself to look directly at the man in front of me. 

This is so embarrassing.

“Now…” he murmurs. Magnus’ hands are still on my face, his thumbs soothingly rubbing against my rosy cheeks, wiping my tears away.  “Come inform me of that precognition of yours.”

[ladyramora]

Author Interview

Tagged by @eemamminy-art

Putting a read more because this baby is looong....

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

Currently 72! It would be more if I posted all of my Tumblr snippets separately lol

2. what's your total AO3 word count?

467,534 words.

A decent bit, I think. Though I started writing again in 2015, so maybe it's not much? It's not everything I've written on Tumblr, either.

3. what fandoms do you write for?

I used to write for FF11 & Inu Yasha, plus Inu Yasha & Yuyu Hakusho crossover fic. I never deleted my fanfic dot net account, but it is all super old now. Nobody go looking for it! I may one day rewrite some of those old fic, but confronting my teenage writing skills is a bit much for me right now lmao.

My Ao3 is all FFXIV at this point, but that is subject to change! I have a c0mmission from Divinity: Original Sin 2 I'm currently working on! (Ifan. He's such an interesting, handsome guy. I'm having fun writing him~ ❤️)

I am interested in writing for other fandoms! For instance, Nu Carnival that is currently one of my favorite games, and possibly BG3? But I only know of it, haven't played it, I'll have to do research to write for it.

I just need to work through my current queue first!

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

I'm gonna go by actual chaptered fic, not just my collections of Tumblr snippets.

• Drowning in Blue:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4679429/chapters/10680896

Kudo count: 460 ❤️

Haurchefant/Warrior of Light (reader insert).

Summary: The Warrior of Light is granted a wish from Hydaelyn after being gravely wounded in the fight with the Ascians.

I have a lot of love for this one, however I would like to go back & edit it to make it more friendly to nonbinary & they/them readers. I do enjoy the writing style I have in this one. I do remember writing chapter after chapter of this one, day after day. A lot of passion there.

• In plain sight:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4333374/chapters/9826917

Kudo count: 385 ❤️

Yet another Haurchefant/Warrior of Light (reader insert).

Summary: The Warrior of Light has fled from Ul'dah to take refuge in Camp Dragonhead after being accused of treason. Though dark times have forced them there, it is in Camp Dragonhead that potentially disastrous shenanigans ensue. Much Fluff with attempts at humor. Haurchefant x WoL. Tataru and Alphinaud friendships.

This one! The fic where I created Ger! Another one I would like to edit to make more friendly to non-binary & they/them readers. I'd also like to update Ger's characterization, because she's an entirely different character now! But I really enjoyed writing this fic. It was a lot of fun. I really enjoyed exploring Haurchefant's character & building up the relationship between him and WoL. I had a sequel planned & everything. I'd still like to write that sequel eventually. I have a draft on my computer for it lol.

•Switching Roles:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9899933

Kudo count: 266 ❤️

Summary: Estinien lies in wait for Aymeric. This is also porn. Can be stand alone, but more like a sequel to Sweet like birch syrup.

Estinien and Aymeric were my first foray into writing smut, not just fading to black or ending at the buildup & making people ask in my comments "that's it? where's the rest of it?"

Oh, how far we have come since then! I used to say I was strictly a fluff/romance writer with occasional angst. Now look at me. 95% pure, explicit smut!

•Peculiarity:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36427720/chapters/90829135

Kudo count: 244 ❤️

Hermes/Warrior of Light (reader insert?) from Hermes POV.

I won't post the summary because it's kinda sorta Endwalker Spoilers! Sorry!

I will say that this fic is my current baby. I love Hermes sooo much. I relate to him a lot. It makes me very sad that so many people in fandom seem to hate him. My poor, misguided little meow meow.

Yet another character I ship with Ram, in theory, but as of yet not in written practice. Just vibes, just brainwyrms doing loops in the old noggin.

•The Cats Meow:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4508475/chapters/10253364

Kudo count: 243 ❤️

Haurchefant/Miqo'te WoL (reader insert)

Summary: Haurchefant notices the cat-like qualities in the Miqo'te!WoL. Attempts at humor and fluff.

Ok, this one is just silly fluff. Much romance. Very cute. Meow. This was around the time I was still playing my miqo'te, before I left her standing by Haurchefant's desk before level 57.

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

Eyes Ever Heavensward

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29054034

Kudo count: 33 ❤️

Haurchefant/Warrior of Light (reader insert)

Summary:

The one where Haurchefant is a member of the Heavensward, and WoL is storming The Vault. Angst. Feels. Unhappy Ending.

Ok, I probably have a few angsty ones but this one made me cry while I was writing it. I think it's just angstier because of what WoL is forced, with no other choice, to do in the fic.

:( ͡° ᴥ ͡°)

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

I have so many that end on positive/happy endings. I can't really say what is the happiest. Maybe fix-it fics?

8. do you get hate on fics?

Not so much on fic. I have gotten some mean/malicious anons on Tumblr, but not since my fanfiction dot net days have I gotten "flames" or somebody sending me a link to my fic being posted on "gaff" (god awful fanfiction). That was really mean lmao.

I just end up deleting hateful comments, anons, etc. Who wants to waste time on that?

Attacking or harassing real people over fiction is utterly ridiculous and I will never condone that.

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

Hello, so much smut!

I can write super explicit stuff that is really raunchy, or more flowery/romantic types. Fun, silly, sweet. Darker themes. I'm pretty flexible when it comes to writing smut.

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

I have. Probably RP? The other crossovers I've done are nowhere near as crazy as things can get in RP.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of??

It's harder to pinpoint with writing, I think. People can have similar ideas, plots, or just enjoy similar tropes.

Unless someone is copying your work word for word, lifting scenes, or using it for A/I... (A/I images & text are theft. We want A/I to help people, not to replace human creativity with regurgitated trash that has no human soul.)

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

I think I had someone ask at one point but it was some time ago. I don't even remember what fic it was.

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

Does RP count?

Brainstorming, bouncing ideas off one another. Or even just doing prompts & requests... I think that counts as creating together, if not actually "co-writing".

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

I have so many!!!

For FFXIV in particular, it's probably still tied between Haurchefant/WoL and Zenos/WoL at the top. Ships with Ysayle or Foulques!! Ships with NPCs that are job class or side characters.

I am really fond of Emet/WoL, too. Tbh, any Scion ship or Ascian ship.

I love them all...

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

Don't call me out like this 😔

I want to finish so many...

Ones that I feel I have to edit to add to them, maybe? I just don't have the free time to do so right now.

16. what are your writing strengths?

Hmm. Research and dedication to accurate characterization??

Dialogue, I think, because I enjoy it very much, but that could also be marked in weaknesses because I struggle with certain characters. (Smart characters. Characters like Urianger who have a particular way of speaking, etc, etc.)

Setting the scene. Word counts go crazy with that.

Descriptive writing and character introspection. I can dive deep into that.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

Definitely perfectionism. I'm never satisfied. I want every fic I write to be a home cooked meal. Michelin star.

Also run on sentences and my love affair with commas, em dashes, and semicolons.

Keeping the tenses consistent.

World building.

Overworking. (Set word count? What's that? What if 3k fic became a 6k fic became a 9k fic. Oops.)

Having time/energy to write. That's a big one. 🥲

I'm a caretaker for my disabled sister, the designated chef of my household, and just constantly busy every day. I try to squeeze in writing where I can, but some days I'm just so tired and drained that I have basically nothing to spare for my creative pursuits. It's a definite struggle to work through that.

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

I like to read it! It's especially fun if it's a fantasy language like vulcan or elvish.

Unfortunately, I only speak English, and even writing in my first language can be difficult. I don't know any other languages well enough to even attempt writing in them.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

Inu Yasha, DBZ, FF11. All when I was a teenager.

Then I didn't write again for years and years. Started up again with FFXIV.

20. favourite fic you've written?

I have so many I love, I can't pick one favorite... I'll just list a few of my favorites right now!

XIVSapphicWeek Snippets

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45529894/chapters/114564367

Ram x Ysayle & RamLynn

(Lynn belongs to my RP partner, @/lynnslight )

I had an AyaGer one planned but I didn't end up writing more before the week ended. I'm still gonna use the prompts & add to it, eventually ❤️

....

•Peculiarity

(Yes, again. I'm posting it twice)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36427720/chapters/90829135

Hermes x WoL

Summary is !Endwalker Spoilers!

This is my current baby, I have the next chapter stewing. The start of the smut always has to be good, you know? The flavor has to be just right~

•A (Primal is a) Wish Your Heart Makes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29186616

Angst. Gerchefant? Primal Haurchefant. I have a WIP of the next chapter & it is angst and smut.

(You know what's funny? I've written/posted more Ger smut than Ram smut lmao! Sorry Ram. I love putting Ger in situations 😌❤️)

.....

Favorite series?

Amnesia Zenos, Villain Haurchefant, any Ascian fic (particularly fond of Attracting Ascians, I need to write more for that one.)

Amnesia Zenos

•Dancing In The Dark

Zenos x reader Insert WoL

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16868251/chapters/39610297

Summary: If Zenos had lost his memory, and WoL was the one to find him.

• Dancing In The Dark - With Two

Zenos x reader Insert WoL

Summary: One with Amnesia, the other without? Two Zenos? You can barely handle one.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16868563/chapters/39611086

Villain!Haurchefant

•Villains and Heroes

Summary: “Shh, it’s alright,” the villain said. “You’re doing beautifully and I’m so proud of you. But that’s enough now. It was cruel of them to make you fight me - you could never have won. It’s not your fault.” Villain!Haurchefant

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16868086/chapters/39609883

•Attracting Ascians

Ascians x reader insert WoL

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29053515/chapters/71312748

Summary: The Warrior of Light attracts Ascians like moths to light. Or the one where WoL Kisses Ascians instead of Killing them. (ARR. Early? Maybe. IDK, who cares about Canon, this is Fanfiction.)

....

Special mention to my WiP fics I haven't posted yet except for some snippets like that Ram x Zenos smut, the dark themed/dubcon Fandaniel fics that I'm excited about.

Also the Nu Carnival & Obey Me! fic I started that I want to eventually sit down and properly write...

(I know. Fic that isn't FFXIV? Gasp.)

And of course, the comms!!

I really try to write every comm I get like I'm cooking a homemade meal for someone.

I made it for you. Take a fucking bite bro, I love you man. (Gender neutral uses of 'bro' & 'man', ofc. It's like saying 'dude' to me lol)

https://youtu.be/tkUSCNr0aDE?si=uDbsApgeOLU_SvMx

....

Anyway, thanks for tagging me ❤️

If any of my followers would like to do this, I'm tagging you! 💕

[cozypancakes]

I know we are talking mainly about Peter and Rose in the fandom, but omg, Maddie Redfield was such a tragic character. This girl never caught a break since she was a kid. First, her mom died, and then her dad blamed her for her sisters death when she was 5/6. Like how insane is this? First of all, he was already rich at that time. He could have afforded a nanny to watch the kids. Even more crazy he blamed her publicly for it. Maddie said in the tape that her dad would go on stage and say Sarah drowned because of her. This man was a red flag from the beginning, I'm wondering how he got so many fans (I know he is corrupt, but people at the college campus were excited to see him there). And then after everything, he's sorta responsible for Maddies kidnapping, plus she had to watch the man she liked getting murdered in front of her while also learning at the same time she was groomed by that man and later got shot by an assassin. Her only friend is Chelsea, someone who is hired to be there for her. Maddie deserves all the happiness in the world. Please let her go to Italy, where she paints all day. I know she won't be in s2 (I hope Chelsea is), but yeah. Also, imagine having to testify against your dad who wanted to kill the president. I know she hates him, so that's gotta feel good in the moment, but if you think about it, she won't get peace. She will always be linked to him, like Peter is linked to his dad and Maddies kidnapping. The conspiracy freaks won't just let her be. Even worse that her dad created the narrative, she's responsible for her sisters death. Maddie is just my girl, and she was suffering the entire time, I need her to be happy in the future.

Maddie definitely deserves some attention, anon. I bet that Redfield didn't get a nanny simply for "appearances". Bet he soaked up the single father card and all the sympathy that got him. And how horrible for Maddie to be publicly known for being the reason her sister die! Like he says that they built a foundation after her sister?? What was the foundation for?? Forcing your eldest child to do a parent's job?! Imagine growing up like that and EVERYONE thinks you're the reason your sister is dead! Parents, classmates, teachers, everyone knows! Some people may ridicule Maddie for having fallen for her art teachers lies but after everything she went through from such a young age I think she was very put together. AND THEN HER FUCKING THERAPIST BETRAYS HER LIKE THAT??? WTF!? How do you go running to the President's chief of staff like that?

She probably won't show up in season 2 and it's probably highly unlikely but I would love a scenario where her and Peter bond over their shitty father's and the conspiracy theory idiots. Peter giving her pep talks before she testifies in court. Peter taking on an older brother role with her and helping her through anxiety attacks or self doubts that creep up about whether she deserves all of this. Peter even learning and accepting that, no, they don't deserve to be punished for their fathers' actions. They are their own people and can only be responsible for what they do. They can't atone for their fathers' sins.

I need them to be each others found family now. Peter being the first person (okay, maybe second after Chelsea) that she sends drafts of her newest artwork to. Introducing Peter to any significant other she has over the years and Peter giving them the "if you ever hurt her, we will hunt you down" (rose standing threateningly behind him). Peter dropping in to visit whenever he is nearby (M: oh you were in the neighborhood, huh? P:England is in the same continent so yeah). Maddie reassuring Peter that he's going to be an amazing father because he is so caring and will always protect them. Peter walking Maddie down the aisle if she ever got married...

Okay that got away from me real quick

[silvermoonshipping-is-love]

Name: Melly

Age: 20+

Pronouns: She/They (Primarly)

From: Germany

Just a stupid queer and disabled fellow with too much time and obsession on her hands.

I mainly do self-indulgence content regarding the Gaming Creepypastas, mainly Ben Drowned and Lost Silver, and even have my own headcanoned Lore/Canonverse.

Said Content consists of art, sorta crafting and writing. However my writing can't really be found on Tumblr, as it gets little reception, nor do I seemingly really understand how fanfictions on Tumblr work.

But feel free to check out my written work here if you are interested (Or other art): DeviantArt, AO3, Wattpad

My side blogs! AUs Lovechildren

Please keep reading to get the full info about this account.

-

First things first: Despite being mainly about Creepypasta, this is not a horror blog. It is mainly about shipping, analyses, fluff or alike and memes. It is also mainly about Video Game Creepypastas, with only a handful being exceptions, like TV show based Creepypastas.

If you're a fan of more horror or the classical Creepypastas, this account is a miss for you.

Also I am NOT a Friday Night Funkin' blog! If you're looking for that content this isn't one such blog. I have unfortunate experiences with that community.

Also also this blog may still contain NSFW topics, and therefore may not be suitable for minors. Even if I'll try my best to filter and tag everything accordingly which may be upsetting to them, I ask to be aware of this. And if I happen to overlook something bad that would need to be tagged or filtered correctly, tell me please.

This blog mainly includes the ships of:

SilvernMoonShipping/DrownedSilver (Lost Silver/Ben Drowned)

BlindHomicide (Eyeless Jack/Homicidal Liu)

These two are the main OTPs

Other ships that may be included:

StrangledGlitchy

Dark/Link (or Phantom Link)

ExeDoll

ShedCakes

If none of these ships are to your liking that is fine, just ignore this blog. I don't intend for any ship wars. Ship and let ship.

Also note I am NOT a multishipper, or at least definitely not for the two main ships up there, so don't expect to request a different ship with any of the ones mentioned, because you will not get that here. With the ones under there I may reconsider, but again, this is not a place for shipping wars or to find content of a ship I don't create for.

-

Unless I or my depictions specifically state otherwise, all characters are usually intended to be 18+ Exceptions: Thomas who is usually 16 and Aika who is a little girl around 8-11

I am open for requests, but please understand or accept if I do refuse one due to skill or discomfort over what the request may be.

Also I tend to get phases of hiatuses or breaks and ask for you to be patient and not be worried. I may simply go inactive for a while. Unless I post that I fully left, there is no need for confusion or concern.

-

My asks are open, however while you can ask Ben and Silver usually from long ago, this is not a full on ask-blog. I still am happy over interactions via headcanons, AU talk, considering I have tons of self-indulgent shit to talk about, mainly Aus or simply wanting to know more about my canonverse/”lore”. Or even requests or also wanting to gush over how cute these ships are, this blog was mainly created to share the love for these beautiful moon bfs after all hehe.

I will try my best to answer asks, be it whatever, even asks at Ben and Silver, but again, be mindful that this isn't a full on ask-blog, but rather asks are open for different multiple reasons.

I hope I can do reference sheets soon as a pinned post.

[phantom-of-the-ruckus]

Headcannons #2 NOT A SHIP

Welp, what can I saw Mortimer and Riley are my favorite non-romantic duo in the entire game with the most interesting relationship throughout the entire game and now after finding some stuff relating to their closure (non-romantic) in the MS I'm hyperfixing in their complex relationship.

As a note, this is not meant to be cute or fluffy. These two have a toxic relationship. I do believe the puppets are in the cult theory, and I headcannon that these two have more of a Mentor and mentee relationship tho (if the devs said otherwise, please let me know)

After breathing the puppets to life, Mortimer was quick to find Riley had a great potential and had signs of having a more complex mind than the other puppets. This prompted him to take her under his wing and teach her everything he knew as he saw a potential that we could help her grow. This ended up with both forming a non-romantic bond that went through deeply understanding the other and fighting for one purpose.

Both know the other perfectly and know that they should never underestimate what the other can do. Still, Mortimer has always presented and established himself as the leader and the one Riley should give up control and follow.

As Mortimer was drowning in paranoia he started to be a tad little hostile and more serious towards Riley. She did not question that, but remained loyal to his side. Mortimer casually fed into her unhealthy thoughts that the other Handeemen would betray her and hurt others to get what they want. Ironically Nick being a dumbass ended up proving Mortimer's point further.

Both started to develop an unspoken trust and a sorta dynamic to get things done. Mortimer would simply tell Riley he needed something or wanted something done, and she would immediately know what to do. Sometimes they pop into each other's offices (or her lab) to talk or discuss plans.

Upon discovering Daisy loosing her memory and feeling guilty for accusing her of trying to betray her, Riley slowly started to question if Mortimer was being paranoid about others wanting to hurt them. She keep those doubts to herself afraid of Mortimer finding out, and sorta making her mentor feel betrayed by Riley who he has been very special and took good care of her before his paranoia broke down.

Out all the puppets, Riley knew that she was the one who Mortimer had a soft spot the most. Still, he was not afraid of "correcting her" (I do believe he brainwashed her into thinking his abuses were correcting her behavior. More on my cult theory), but nonetheless she was the one that he had the hardest punishing her over as he did not wish to destroy her. This is also why She took the blame for Daisy as her calculations led to Mortimer giving her a less severe punishment than the one he claimed he would give. Still she did not what prompted her, but only knew it was something Mortimer both could not explain or approve either.

Mortimer did start to notice Riley's behavior was slowly changing. He took this as a bad sign that she was starting to wish to leave the world he so "created for the puppet"/like the nest like she was starting to rebel or something that his paranoia told him she was doing. He started to shut down her ideas and started to be more careless with stuff (also his conflicting problems with his creator as well)

Mortimer started to built upon the idea Riley was secretly working on projects to overthrow him as his relationship with her started to grow darker and darker. During the tape where he found her working on her research to bring Rosco to life. After their argument he kinda did but also did not mean to ask Riley to burn Rosco down (As he was in a paranoid state, furious that she did not ask his permission to do stuff, but kinda in a blind state of rage.) He did calm down after Riley begged him not to make her burn down Rosco as he did sigh knowing as much as he wanted to snap and tell her no, all he could see was that little bird he took under his wing for years. This prompt him to sigh and sorta think about what to do. His paranoia and pride won the best of him so he tells her to burn it before leaving.

After Mortimer left he ended up having a reflection about what he just did. He doesn't feel guilty for hurting Riley's feelings, but rather is upset about himself in regards about how he ended up losing control over her and how they're slowly drifting apart. Of course, he knew Riley wouldn't be able to kill Rosco (since he knows her perfectly) but he was debating a way to "Win" her back to his side but also "testing" if he was actually wrong about Riley. He contemplated the idea of bringing Rosco back to life but with a price to make her stay.

Knowing perfectly his little sheep or subjects or have an idea when something was wrong, Mortimer instantly knew Nick Nack being happy about something means something was up. So after spending some good 4 hours of a retailing or Romeo and Juliet and a secret marriage plan (which is what I think Nick's OG idea was) Mortimer knew Riley was up to something which was obviously not related to Nick thinking about himself and his weird fantasy world. So he decided to figure out what was she planning as he figured out a way to convince her to stay using some of the things Nick told her he discussed with her. (ignoring the fanfiction aspects) He sorta found the whole thing humorous and decided to humiliate Nick in the process for being an idiot

Riley was always hesitant over her plan to take over the studio and rebel against Mortimer throughout the whole time. Yes she was aware Mortimer was becoming "unsteady" but there was also the fact that Riley was well aware she knew Mortimer in a sorta close way as he was her mentor, and she had a hard time overthrowing someone who took her under his wing, taught her what she knew, always was special to and let her know and fell she was great and was very special.

(I think Nick was meant to distract Mortimer while Riley gathered the others or something) So Mortimer knew Riley would try to overthrow him, so he decided to use Rosco as a plan to foiled he plans. He had two plans. One was to kill his non-romantic affections for Riley and use Rosco to torture her, or Use Rosco as a way to play upon her the whole "I'm correcting your bad behaviors" This would be all depending on what Reaction Riley herself had. There was something off about Riley talking with Daisy regarding what Nick told him they believe they talk. So, knowing Riley, he believed that Riley most likely was talked into the plan rather than something she decided to do. This end up being true when he saw Riley being slightly nervous when she attempted to take over. He toyed with her with his taunts as a way to make sure she was in fact talked into the plan.

So the whole Rosco is mine but I let you take care of him Riley, it's a special way he push the whole "I'm just correcting your behavior" mentality he got her into believing, but also an opportunity for both to start over and forget about the whole ordeal and remind her that she was still special and welcome to part take in her plans (this is a bit of mercy from Mortimer's plan as he knew Riley was talked over and didn't really want to commit treason) The other puppets did not catch on this because they weren't aware of the special bond Mortimer and Riley had. He was also upset with the puppets for talking Riley into the plan and "punish" their defiance, but also use them as scapegoats for his near-fall apart with Riley.

After the failed Rebellion, Mortimer decided to destroy any sort of bond Riley had with the other puppets as he try to use the fail rebellion as an example towards what happens with trust. This sorta work as Riley was ruling a bit more with an iron fist and disliked those who showed some sort of defiance to their ideal, but she knew Mortimer was wrong to some expect about not trusting people. She still sorta gets along with Daisy and kinda Nick (not really tho) as both had shown her that at least there are puppets she can trust and part of her do hopes that Mortimer would see things her way one day.

[gerogerigaogaigar]

Pavement - Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain

Oh no! It's another one of my Favorite Albums Of All Time™. This is the best rock album of the 90's. Somehow blending ennui and deep longing into one contradictory emotion. Crooked Rain speaks to the contradictory feelings of growing up in a middle class suburb. The rebellion vs the comfort. The desire for something that you don't know what it is, but you need it so bad. It's an album about growing up, but it's great contradiction is that it brings me back to childhood every time I hear it. And that isn't nostalgia talking either, I didn't hear this album at all until I was out of high school. If you only listen to one album off the list so far make it this one.

LCD Soundsystem - Sound Of Silver

Deadpan irony delivered with dispassionate sincerity. It's hard to tell whether LCD Soundsystem is making fun of you for having feeling or if they're making fun of you for thinking that you don't. Are they genuinely mad about being mistaken for a European band or are they joking? Is the title track sympathetic or dismissive of teenage angst? Is party culture self destructive or triumphant? The lack of any real answers meld with the slow building and steady instrumentals to create a world where the answers are whatever conclusion you draw. Maybe things can be more than one thing.

Usher - Confessions

Ngl man if you gotta write two back to back songs apologizing for shit then she's probably in the right to leave your ass lol. This album is solid. I think it drags a little, but its not like it's top heavy or anything. I think I just get bored with sensitive R&B guys faster than others. The fact that the album's tone is to be unapologetically horny but also very apologetic at the same time is hilarious to me. I know it isn't deliberate camp but when Usher goes from I'm good at sex songs to please take me back songs it's like environmental storytelling for toxic dudes.

Los Lobos - How Will the Wolf Survive

I'll admit that a sorta folksy sorta rockabilly album from 84 is not an exciting prospect to me. It wasn't bad by any means, but it didn't rock my world either. Not a complete bust though since there is some nice accordion playing here and that always makes me happy.

Elvis Costello - My Aim Is True

The idea to wrap up the brattiest, meanest lyrics in Buddy Holly style rock n roll was one of the greatest masterstrokes of the 70s punk scene. Typically when an artist tries to emulate past styles, especially from the pre stereo era, they either emulate too perfectly and end up derivative or they fail entirely and wind up sounding sterile. Elvis Costello somehow avoids this entirely. The lo fi punk rock production compliments the 50s throwback aesthetics in a way that feels authentic to both styles.

The Four Tops - Reach Out

When I was a child my dad listened exclusively to an oldies station that didn't seem to realize that music existed outside of the years 1951-1968. Hits from the Motown records label were naturally staples of their lineup and the songs that always stood out to me happened to be by The Four Tops. I Can't Help Myself, Bernadette, Walking In The Shadows Of Love, and Reach Out I'll Be There wound up being some of the most foundational songs of my childhood. This album contains three of those four songs. The only real point of this anecdote is to explain how I'm not qualified to review anything by The Four Tops. Hell I even named myself after Levi Stubbs' character from Little Shop of Horrors. This isn't one of my favorite albums of all time, but it contains some of my most essential songs of all time.

Hüsker Dü - New Day Rising

Right in the middle of their discography and in the middle of their evolution from hardcore punk to alt rock pioneers. New Day Rising almost feels like it could have been an early emo influence. Buzzsaw guitars threaten to drown out helplessly shouted vocals. And far from the traditional punk aesthetic that prized political lyricism and outward facing aggression Bob Mould writes personal and introspective songs. Without a doubt this album, while not a turning point in and of itself, is still part of a large scale shift in what rock music would be going forward.

[fanfixes]

Going down the Rabbit Hole & Why being a Fan Girl is sorta a Saving Grace

How it all began:

I’ve been on Tumblr for years. It started in high school, about 7 years ago and I’ve opened and deactivated multiple accounts across this period of time. There’s some sorta pattern that flows with my sudden resurgence each phase and a licensed therapist would declare it a coping mechanism - and I’d agree.

But it is what it is, isn’t it - an escape. If I could trace FURTHER back, to when I watched my first movie and “escaped” I probably understand why writing fan-fict, deconstructing characters, spending hours reading about other works of the same lengthened that space to ignore the outside world and its mischiefs.

And funnily enough, Tumblr has always provided this safe space. Twitter, Instagram, Facebook doesn’t cut it for me. The kind of security I receive from this platform is different - I feel heard yet not exposed and I can’t put my finger on it but its just... it’s special. 

It’s a place for creatives, the lonely girls, the hyperactive ones who need to let that energy out onto a page and interact with people who could appreciate their fanaticism. It’s a shared experience, yet also somewhat, incredibly personal.

Coming home:

About a year ago, I lost someone very important to me. This was during a time where there was already so much loss. Grief settled in the air and as I felt my consolations unworthy of attention seeing that everyone had someone they lost, I kept it in, “soldiered through”. My friends checked on me, and they created this list of stuff for me to watch BUT while I sifted through the recommendations, there was a sort of anticipatory anxiety attached to the idea of starting new shows / movies, so I didn’t.

My biggest mistake was pouring myself into my work which felt natural since most of my nights were spent finalising assignments and my days were spent answering my employers. That fragment of curiosity, imagination and fantasy that lived in me dwindle off and can I just say, it was probably one of the dullest times of my life. It was a disappointing time to be alive. 

Work was definitely an excuse, because the first time I tried relaxing, it was chaotic. And I felt awkward trying to be something I wasn’t and allowing myself to be someone I was. 

The Viscount who Loved Me:

It started with Bridgerton, and knowing a little about the show, as I mentioned before in my previous posts, I could somewhat tame that anxiety I had in starting anything new. And GOD did it pay off. 

I loved what they did with Bridgerton. I identified with Kate, I could understand Anthony’s loss and as a struggling artist myself, I got what Benedict was going through. I connected with the show in ways I didn’t think I could. 

There was so much character complexities to drown yourself into and as someone figuring herself out, being able to watch parts of yourself interact with parts of yourself started conversations I wouldn’t have had, if I didn’t first see it. 

That’s sorta how writing fan-fict came about. I couldn’t get Benedict out of my head, so I put him on paper. I devoured the Bridgerton series and well, tweaked the fict to fit my idea of what I’d love to see play out. 

CAST INTERVIEWS & Thank you Luke Thompson:

Cast interviews were somewhat instructive, not just about the characters they played or the dynamic but, being able to just tap into what made the characters their own felt therapeutic. 

Luke Thompson has this interview on the YouTube Channel “An Actor Despairs” and it is my favourite interview of the year. It was inspiring to hear him talk about his journey and that raw dedication to his work renewed my mind on what it was I wanted from my life. How I wanted to build it. How to allow myself to just go with the flow and live.

So it was clear that falling in love with a show came with the territory of falling in love with the actors, especially when they are so passionate about their work. 

That to me, is what differentiates their job from being just entertainment to becoming a vocation. 

You do learn a lot about life and personalities when you are working on these projects. Just diving into An Offer from a Gentlemen for the sake of the fict I wrote, brought me into seasons of understanding Benedict beyond what was written.

Coupled with my deeper dive of Luke Thompson’s process allowed me to get where he was coming from and provided a clearer vision on what Benedict meant to the Bridgerton storyline.

Robert Aramayo nerd-ing out:

Robert Aramayo, is the second actor this year who’s looped me into his vortex. He just fell in love with the legendarium (as he often says) and poured himself into becoming Young Elrond, so much so, that they now feel like two separate individuals. Rob Aramayo disappeared into the world Rings of Power created and as I go through Tolkien’s works now, I can understand why he was so engrossed with it in the first place.

Both these actors made me appreciate acting for more than just the shallow concept I used to have of it - reading lines and conveying those conversations in a convincing enough manner to not look fake. I didn’t appreciate the art enough to get it many years before, but now that I do, it’s such a beautiful form of expression and self-identification.

I can’t help but be engrossed in these new worlds, in my private space and love it for what it makes me feel. I am thankful for all the creations and different forms of entertainment they bring and the heartfelt discussions on the characters which remind us of some people we meet or are. Bridgerton and Rings of Power aren’t the only shows I’ve watched the whole year, I have to add - ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING about this universe of ART, FANTASY & MOVIES/SERIALS are what make people feel alive, are what made me feel alive.

As John Keating said in Dead Poet’s Society:

“WE READ AND WRITE POETRY BECAUSE WE ARE MEMBERS OF THE HUMAN RACE. AND THE HUMAN RACE IS FILLED WITH PASSION. AND MEDICINE, LAW, BUSINESS, ENGINEERING, THESE ARE NOBLE PURSUITS AND NECESSARY TO SUSTAIN LIFE. BUT POETRY, BEAUTY, ROMANCE, LOVE, THESE ARE WHAT WE STAY ALIVE FOR.”

We dive into these worlds of imagination because of its relationship with our minds, these are what gives life a meaning. The mechanics of making money, succeeding in the financial and lucrative sense is monotonous and dry - there’s nothing much to it but stacks of papers and detachable figures. There is nothing more exciting than finding something to be excited about and as the days passed, I realised I wanted to be more in touched with a part of me that I felt needed to be suppressed after surpassing a certain age. That inner child shouldn’t have to vacate the premise simply because I’m 25. After all, I was probably the closest to being my truest self back then than I am today. And I wouldn’t have known it... if not for this saving grace.

[ficfanatictrf]

Well....

My 'spring break' has been not really a break

Been working all day cutting back the ivy in our woods off of trees to keep it from killing anymore of the trees (which is HARD work)

Then, everyday been getting updates about how my Grandmother (my only grandparent still around) has been in and out of the hospital due to internal bleed. - She lives 8 hours away, so I've only heard about things happening through my Dad....who likes to leave vital information out.... - They can't stop the bleeding because she is on blood thinner, so she's had 3 pints of blood given to her since Monday - They are talking about putting a screen sort of thing in one of the valves of her heart because they believe a clot is forming and this will at least keep it from traveling to somewhere even worse - She is back home, and my Dad really doesn't update me with any information on what is happening

Now, today, I am going to meet my old boss for lunch, who MIGHT be able to get me an audience with his boss - the medical examiner for the county.

Since that is what I want to do, this might end up being a sorta job interview...which is defiantly not what I was expecting to do this week...

Next week I have my hearing exam (3 hours long....) to see how exactly what is causing the Misophonia issues that I've been having and what treatment options are available.

I'm working on creating stickers for my friend because she likes my artwork, but goodness..... I have no idea what I am doing...

Plus I have 3 chapters of Korean to do, and I need to get ready for our Korean Oral exam in 2 weeks

......

All to say that I feel like I'm drowning a lot and am doing what I can to get back to writing. I appreciate everyone's patience with me

[librathefangirl]

Libra Watches 911 Lone Star - 4x01

And we are back! Finally.

Some of my thoughts and feelings under the cut! Spoilers!

Oh here we go here we go! I've missed them all so much. Seriously. I'm like... vibrating right now 😅

Judd gesturing TK over and being like "you're daddy okay?" 😂 Also I've missed these two together!

Aw man, my sister is not gonna like this episode. She hates frogs 😅 Can't wait to watch it with her 😈 Call it payback for the laughs she had during that whole spider thing in OG 911 season 5. Ugh...

So Carlos really is married to Iris? Man... I need to process this 😅 (I was gonna add my thoughts on this at the bottom but it got kinda long and rambly, so I'll put that in a separate post for anyone curious)

Did y'all see how happy TK got when Carlos said there was an open spot in 8 weeks? 🥺 Man's so smitten and just wanna marry his man

😂 I'm loving how they're all like 1 in a million? So that's happening.

Okay, so Owen's in a biker gang? That he met a stoplight? And he sees no issue with this? This is gonna bite you in the ass Owen. But kudos to Judd for being a good concerned friend! I do really love Owen and Judd's dynamic and friendship.

Oh fuck oh fuck nope nope nope! This is giving me sooo much anxiety. You have to force me up in ferris wheel on a good day - so this is like literally my worst nightmare.

Oh okay. Drowning in a porta-potty? Now that's a nightmare I have never even considered before 😅

Eww! "Maybe I'll treat you both just to be safe" I love Tommy 😂

Omg he really shoved her! 😂😂 I mean good move but also I can't believe he just did that 😂 I like him

Carlos to the rescue! Sorta 😅

"We're recently divorced." "Oh!" Oooh 👀 "Saw that!" 😂 I love Nancy so much. Also same queen!

"Play-date or a date-date?" Oh, he's smooth! "I'm good with either one." Loving this! Tommy deserves a frog prince me thinks.

Omg! Iris! Aww, she looks so good and happy! (Really happy they gave her that!)

Oh snap! That slap tho 😅 "Coffee?" 😂

Okay, I love Iris! I didn't really have any strong opinion of her back in season 1, but so far I'm really liking her this season.

"Always good to have one of those in the family." 😂

Ooh Iris and TK meeting? Not gonna lie, I'm intrigued. (Just as long as this doesn't create drama and whatnot with Tarlos, pls?)

Oh shit! Owen what have you gotten yourself into now?!

Aww Charlie! 🥰

ffs! I missed like 70% of that church scene because my stream bugged out... Got it working again right in time to see the FBI lady show up at Owen's.

So, I say this again: Owen what hell have you gotten yourself into this time??

[magicboobiess]

Hardware

Some of my favorite nights have been spent falling asleep by the television surrounded by my blankets and pillows. Often times I find myself ruminating so so much, about anything and everything. I’ll gladly explore any topic, read any book, listen to any song and chat with any person. The thing is (it’s funny I write this while eating a tortilla) I feel very much disconnected from everything and everyone, but please don’t be scared. I don’t feel disconnected in a depressed woe is me, we live in a society sorta thing. It’s more so in a, I feel as if I’m a little robot that was dropped into the world and it’s programming limits it from ever fully connecting with any one thing or person, and rather said robot just goes around absorbing as much information as it can to ultimately feed the data base which will create a little robot capable of connecting both at an emotional and logical manner.

In other words this logical mind of mine leaves me feeling more like computer hardware and the people I meet along the way are the software that gets put into my mind. Hardware cannot run on its own it needs software in order to truly be operational. The thing is it’s so hard to update hardware, once it’s out in the world unless one goes out of their way to improve it, more often than not it stays the same eventually becoming obsolete. Software is the thing that’s usually able to better be updated and changed. However not all hope is lost for hardware, if you’re into dark wave music I’m sure you’ve noticed the re emergence of the synth sound in many songs. Some sounds are unable to be recreated by even the most advanced software, all this to say sometimes hardware becomes obsolete in the hands of the wrong person but paired with the right software it can come back from the dead and live once again.

Ok, ok metaphors aside I hope that last bit wasn’t too hard to follow (I write and speak in metaphors in case this hasn’t become evident by now). Sometimes it is nice being able to approach things in a logical manner, it helps not being overwhelmed by human emotions all the times. However sometimes it can be limiting and leaves me wanting to be able to go deeper. One time a coworker of mine had her car vandalized and they came to me for support. Only to be met with uncomfortable uncontrollable laughter, it’s not that I felt no sympathy towards them. I just did not know how to provide comfort in a time of need. That which comes to others easy may take a lifetime for others to achieve. Everyone is different at a fundamental level, which is ok, if everyone was the same that would be so boring.

Pew pew pew (laser crocodile sounds intensify). Often times I practice living and letting live, a sort of passive approach to life if you will. I’ve learned that most things don’t require a reaction out of me. Just absorbing the moment is more than enough. Plus sometimes even as chatty as I can be, I simply don’t have a response to certain things or situations. Trying to fill in the blanks with dead space is honestly exhausting, it’s like trying to paint a canvas on every building on every block by yourself. In theory yes it can be done however it’s just not a practical and it takes all of your mental capacities. Point being, that it pays off to just sit in silence and nod your head to that which is unable to be answered.

If I ever came to a fork in the road I think I’d pick it up and use it to eat my salad. By the way my favorite salad typically has bacon and blue cheese in it sprinkled with some cranberries and almonds. As much as I love salad I must admit I usually find myself reaching for my phone afterwards to find the nearest restaurant near me. It just never fills me up and I’m not a fan of drowning my salad in sauce, at that point I’d simply drink a bottle of ranch in the food isle of the grocery store. Who am I kidding though I’ll still keep eating my lil salads it’s the thing to do. I love feeling fancy schmancy hehe call it being Venusian on a budget.

[lavendertowerarchives]

Eyy. Im sorta back.

I got on some meds, got off the meds, now im back to "normal." I didnt know how good I had it.

I'm sick of my social anxiety crippling my social life, so I asked my doctor for drugs and he was pretty okay with just letting me have some. Turns out they just made me asocial and literally demolished my creative impetus. Now that I'm off them again, I got actual inspiration to write, thankfully. Not just to write, but to create literally anything from stories to jokes to MTG decks.

Now I'm trying to get on ADHD meds, but I'm undiagnosed and pretty damn sure theyll help. I'm kinda sick of being so restless, among other stereotypical issues.

The aforementioned meds did dull my depressive episodes, but they also stretched them out. That wasn't fun. I was mostly permanently in a lazy state with nothing being fun.

All this talk of drugging myself is because I want to press these magical buttons which change me. I don't care if I turn out worse because its temporary and I really just need to feel something different. After getting dangerously drunk for the first time, I accepted the fact that I enjoy fucking myself up since its so... different. I don't know how to describe it fully; I just really want to feel something which I don't currently feel. I want to see the world in another light, from another angle. I need to experience more, purely for my own pleasure.

So I'm trying to impair my cognitive abilities. I want to drink more, I want to smoke more, I want to take more meds, and I don't have easy access to any because I don't have a fake ID (and cant be bothered to get one). In any given stupor I put myself in, I know that I can affect my life outside of the haze with which I drown in (exemplified by my horrendously embarrassing confession to JH while drunk).

Where does that leave me now?

I havent had the Urge at all while on my med. Now that I'm off it, it's hitting sort of hard again. I've been sewing pins again, but it's been so long that I don't remember what I'm supposed to be feeling. My Urge to leave is less lik a real urge and more like a goal, like "why wouldnt I work towards this? I want to go. Not now, but when I'm done with what I'm doing right now."

Thats where I am so far.

Thanks for listening.

Thanks for finding me.

[jangofctts]

Anything at All (boba fett x fem!reader) (part one) (part two) 

Rated: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: smut, even mORE thrONE fucking, oral sex (f receiving), boba’s a biter, unprotected sex (dont be silly, wrap thAT wiLLY), vaginal fingering, explicit language, boba is a grouchy dom kwjhgjh       

a/n: anyway I think yall forget im a writer and not just a Certified Clown, but anywAy here we be. HAPPY NEW YEARS ya FILTHY anIMALS im so thankful for all yall and im glad I can provide you with some entertainment kaejhejhr

  You haven’t seen Boba Fett in days. 

Called away on business you’ll never be included in or know the fine details about. It’s not kept away from you because he doesn’t trust you, or thinks you’re a mindless idiot—no—he’d rather keep his princess occupied with prettier things. No need to concern yourself with the the underbelly of what he now rules. 

You’re not upset about it—you’re not really a fan of watching petty squabbles that’ll result in someone’s chest being imploded by a blaster. You’ve seen enough of it in the cantina, and while you were never the one tasked with clearing the bodies out—it was still mildly traumatizing. Eh—no need to dwell. 

You’ve got other shit to do anyway. 

There’s a seemingly endless zigzag of secret hallways and dusty rooms within the palace, teeming with strange knickknacks and ancient artifacts that are more than likely cursed. Definitely haunted—but it doesn’t stop you from exploring or sorting through the useless junk. Besides—Fennec stayed behind, acting as your glorified babysitter for the past few cycles—ensuring your safety from both whoever dared step foot into the palace and the ghosts. What a lovely woman. 

Speaking of which—you hear her sigh and shuffle, shifting her weight onto her other foot as she leans back against a dusty crate. She picks at the dirt beneath her fingernails, lazily glancing up every now and then to check that you haven’t eviscerated yourself on a piece of scrap metal or something. Lucky for her, all you found today was an abandoned crate of old datapacs shoved in the back corner from what you assumed to be some sort of office. Yesterday you found a sword that was promptly confiscated.  

“I’d be careful snooping around in those,” Fennec warns as your fingers find the on switch. “You never know what sorta data the Hutts were keeping here.”

You shrug and wave away her concern, reading over the information that flickers across the screen. “I think I’ll be ok…See?” You pointedly wave the datapac in her direction. “This one is about the finances. Spooky.”    

Fennec rolls her eyes followed by an amused smirk that ghosts over her lips. You toss it aside and root around some more, pulling out another datapac. The blue hologram flickers to life and as you decipher the little lines of text your face falls. Each line is a name, previous and recently bought or traded people that crossed the threshold of the palace. Fennec was right. This isn’t fun anymore.    

“These are…slaves.” Your lips curls in disgust. “How is this still not outlawed? It’s barbaric.”      

“You’re not from Tatooine, are you?” Fennec asks as she meanders over and wrestles the datapac out of your hands. She switches it off and tosses it back into the dusty crate. You huff and cross your arms over your chest.  

“No,” you agree. “Im from Arkanis. But even there we don’t have slaves.” 

Fennec squats beside you, her elbows resting over her bent knees. She playfully taps your shoulder with the back of her hand and quirks a brow. “What’d I tell you—snooping doesn’t do anyone any good.”

You roll your eyes and shrug, a frown still etched on your lips. Fennec sighs, rubs her chin and then reaches out to push a stray hair behind your ear. A flush blooms up your cheeks at the gentle touch. 

“You have a sensitive soul, Kitten,” she chuckles, poking at your cheek that you’re certain she can feel the heat emirate from. “You said you were from Arkanis—tell me about it. Why come to Tatooine?”

Your lips quirk in a tiny smile as you bat away her pointer finger, saving your cheek from another poke. “Hey—not everyone likes rain ok?” You huff. “Besides, Tatooine wasn’t supposed to be permanent.”

She nods. Unsure what exactly to tell her--a silence ensues. It’s not terribly awkward but it’s enough that makes you jumpy and itching to move on from this room now stained with information you weren’t prepared on finding. You stand suddenly, brush yourself off and mutter under your breath about finding something less…heartbreaking. 

Fennec jumps up as well and when you leave the room her hand clamps over your shoulder. She spins you around and levels her gaze onto you. “You’re free to leave whenever you like. You know that right?”

Your brows furrow. “I know—don’t worry, I want to stay.”

Her head bobs with a satisfied nod. “We’d miss you if you left. You’re nice to have around.”

You blush again and mumble out a thank you, shooting off into another unexplored location to escape Fennec’s knowing smirk. Maker—you’re embarrassing.  

                               -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Boba returns later that afternoon—the shadow of his familiar figure stretches around the curved stairway, the purposeful stomps of his boots against the carved steps following with it. Your heart flutters within your chest, like a distressed creature with wings as you jump from your makeshift seat.

You come face to face with Boba. Or, helmet rather—whatever. 

The smell of hot metal and dry air sticks to him as he paces closer, closing the small gap that separates him from you. You’re frozen beneath the heavy weight of his stare behind the void like black of his visor as he plants himself firmly before you, close enough that his cuirass could brush your chest if he puffed out his own chest.   

“Hi…” You smile, a fragile vale of uncertainty blanketing the pair of you—still attempting to feel out his mood, sort through the general gruffness of his personality and gage wether or not you could reach out and touch him. The helmet is a tricky thing to read and his body language gives nothing away. You swallow your nerves take a leaping risk.   

“Let me see your face.” You murmur. You move your hands up to the edges of his helmet at a snail’s pace, giving him ample time to slip through your fingers—wedge a sharp thorn between whatever it is that you’ve built and name it for what it is.

He doesn’t choose that option. 

With a low hum, Boba dips his helmet closer to your outstretched fingertips instead. The metal is cool under your palms as they fold over the sides of the helmet and pull up. The metal whispers against his skin like wind through tall grass as the point of his chin peeks out, followed by his lips, his nose, and finally those golden brown eyes. They glitter with amusement as you release a shaky breath, the helmet the only thing acting as a barrier as you clutch it near your sternum. His mouth quirks when you blush and glance away—focusing on the little silvery nicks the green paint refused to cover. You rub your thumb over the blaster pockmark that dents the metal—you frown. You hope that wasn’t recent. 

Boba gently pries the helmet out of your hands and sets it onto the armrest of his throne. He purrs your name and pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb, leading your attention back to him. Your eyes flit up his scars—your breath catching in your throat as he smiles.

“Hello, princess,” he says—the grit and timbre of this new nickname jumpstarting your heart to skip and choke on its own tireless beat.

You roll your bottom lip between your teeth and shake your head. “Boba, I’m not—“

He doesn’t let you finish your sentence—

Boba spreads his fingers over your jaw, tilts your head and swoops down to meet your lips in a dizzying kiss. Hard, hungry, victorious, breathless—like he’s spent years fighting and only now takes a moment to slow down—drown in the softness of your lips and skin. His hands claw at your arms, your clothes, your hair—like you’re the spoils of battle and he fears losing you to the shadows of his past and some hidden horror that nips at his heels. He kisses like a man terrified that this will be brief, intangible and something that’ll abandon him.

He trails after your lips when you break away—your lungs heaving for precious air. He doesn’t let you go far, ensuring your positioning by tangling his fist into your hair at the nape of your neck and scraping his lips up your cheek, enticing you into another kiss. You tilt you chin to meet him with equal fervor, whining as his warm tongue curls sweetly into your mouth. His existence fills your veins with liquid silver—evokes the bloom of crackling star fire beneath the cavity of your ribcage. Every thought starts with him and ends with your heart aching to burst into a million tiny shards.   

The next time you part,  Boba is the first one to pull away. He cups your cheeks between his weathered hands and plants a tender kiss just below your hairline. You swear you can feel the skin buzz from the touch—like every atom in your being was solely created for him to command and conquer. You sigh and lean into his palm. 

“I missed you.” You admit with a small smile. 

Boba leans closer and presses another kiss to your forehead. “And I you, little one.”

“I got worried, y’know,” you continue, your fingers tapping a trail up the front of his chest plate. You trace the repainted insignia with your fingernail and flash him a coy smirk. “You never called—thought maybe you found a new pretty thing.”

He grunts, shakes his head and sweeps a rogue strand of hair behind your ear. “Hilarious—my hands are full enough with you hounding me every five minutes.”

You puff out your bottom lip and feign offense, mumbling some lame whine like a petulant brat. Boba snorts and crowds closer. He presses his gloved thumb between your furrowed brows, smoothing out the wrinkles and then cups your cheeks between both palms. You freeze as he carefully knocks the crown of his forehead onto yours—it’s sweet.

An excited smile splits when he moves his head to your right, the syllables of each word rolling off his tongue sweeter than spiced honey. “I’ll make it up to you, pretty thing,” he whispers by your ear, his warm breath disturbing the fine hairs there. “How does that sound, hm?”

That’s not even a question you would ever dream of denying—you quickly nod. “I’d like that.” 

Boba drops his hands from your face and peels himself away. His eyes trickle down your figure—calculative and analytic—planning out each move to pick apart the entirety of your being. “Take everything off.”

You comply without a second thought—slipping free from the breezy cotton and scratchy poncho you stole from a storage room. The fabric pools at your feet in an unceremonious pile—leaving you bare for him. Despite the sickening dry heat that pollutes the air and causes beads of sweat to gather at your hairline—goosebumps rush up your arms under Boba’s piercing stare. 

Boba’s eyes flicker to the throne. A feral grin tugs at his lips. “Sit.”

This time you hesitate. Did he…? No—you must’ve heard wrong— 

He quirks a brow and gestures to the throne. “Well? Are you going to listen?”

Your tongue slides over your chapped lips. “O-ok..I just—never mind…”

Scrounging up some courage, you gingerly seat yourself onto Boba Fett’s throne. Chills race along the entirety of your body as the freezing metal seeps into your warm flesh. You squirm and beat away the urge to wrap your arms around yourself—he wouldn’t like that—probably would take it as some sort of insult anyway—

All your current discomforts melt away in a fraction of a breath as Boba Fett lowers himself to one knee, and then the other. A king kneeling before his very own throne for someone like you. Someone who’ll be lost to the pages of history and the endless swirl of galaxies and supernovas—you’re nobody to the world, but to him you’re everything. You inhale a shaky breath as a strange stroke of pride alights through your body as he peels off his gloves and maneuvers himself flush against the edge of the throne and between your thighs.    

Boba bows forward and slips his calloused hands around your ribcage to tug you closer. His lips land over your collar bone, slides his tongue over the protrusion then sinks his teeth into you there. You gasp as he slides lower, leading a trail of bruises and teeth marks in his wake. Boba moves his palms, up and in to grab at your breasts, the flats of his fingertips rolling over your nipples. A whimper escapes past your lips as he catches the pebbled bud between his lips, the hard enamel of his teeth scraping over it—meant to tease. Your nails dig into the fabric bunched around his neck as he moves on to suck your other nipple, the cooling saliva sending a chill down your spine as it dries.

You squirm, unable close your legs or to relieve some of that burning tension collecting in your core. You’re already wet—worked up and impatient. You roll your head back onto your shoulders and bite your lip. If you complain and tell him to hurry up you’re scared he’ll leave you like this—deny you that pleasure you’ve been craving for days.  

It feels like ages before he moves on from your breasts, now smattered with bruises and his saliva, and carves out a blinding path down your sternum, your belly, then your navel with his tongue. Boba circles your bellybutton—you force down the ticklish nerves and stay still for him. 

You don't mean to jump as his rough hands drop over your knees. You barely get out the first syllable of an apology when his hands slip up your bare thighs, curl around the swell of your ass and yank. You squeak as the edge of the throne bites into your tailbone, the majority of your lower half forced to lean on Boba’s shoulders and his greedy hands. He kisses the inside of your knee—you jolt with an airy gasp. 

Boba picks up his head and smirks. “Look at me when I taste you, little one.”

Mouth suddenly drier than dust, you nod dumbly. 

He hums, satisfied with your weak response and continues on.  

Boba’s bare fingers trace minuscule patterns into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, coaxing out a shiver. They sweep up towards the apex of your thighs, settling close enough to reach your aching center. You know he’s there—it’s impossible to ignore him—but you curse anyway when you feel his thumbs softly part the lips of your soaking cunt. They steadily work up and down, smearing your wetness around but never enough to give you any friction. You bite back a groan as your hips unconsciously twitch. 

“Patience, princess,” he rumbles, shifting his weight to better reach your cunt. “Maker—you’re dripping already.”   

There's a moment just before Boba commits, his face hovering close enough that you can feel his sticky, hot breath, anticipation gripping your chest. And then he licks a broad stripe from the base of your pussy all the way up to your swollen clit. 

His mouth Is searing, his tongue like liquid velvet as you shudder and grab at his head. He grunts against you as you drag him closer—greedy for everything he deems you worthy of. Boba’s mouth pinpoints around your clit, sucking and tracing circles over the bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue. Your eyes flutter—it’s a struggle not to shut them completely. He asked you to watch after all… 

He then trails lower, sucks on your labia, and makes his way down to your entrance. The wet heat of his tongue circles your entrance, skips over it completely to lick at the wetness dripping lower that threatens to pool onto the throne or the floor. He opens his mouth wide and hums in appreciation, devouring your pussy like he’s been denied this his entire life. 

“Fuck—Boba,” you cry, canting your hips into his mouth. 

It's perfect. So fucking good. 

The tips of his thick fingers, two of them, press at your entrance, teasing the fluttering ring of soft muscle before sinking in. The two digits slip in with ease—all the way up to the second knuckle and when he draws them back, they're slick with your wetness, glinting in the low light. With a smirk, Boba thrusts them back in, then out—setting a steady pace that he refuses to stray from. It leaves you just hovering along the sharp edge of oblivion, the catch of his knuckles and calloused skin along your walls pure torture. Stars—he’s going to be the death of you—

Your hips arch into him, trying to urge him to go faster. Instead, he slowly retracts his fingers and removes his mouth. You gasp in frustration as your cunt clenches around thin air. It almost hurts. 

“I told you to be patient,” Boba chuckles, massaging a warm palm along the outside of your thigh. “You’re behaving like a brat.” 

“I’m—I—I’m sorry—“ You wheeze, trying to rope in some self control that fled a long time ago. Your wits are scrapped thin as you throw your hand against the back of the throne. You don’t care that he’s rendered you to a begging mess, your words slurred and hardly understandable. You're so close to diving off the edge—so near to those plush lips and weathered hands that’ll surely become your salvation. "Please! P-please—I need..." 

You're babbling as he drags his fingertips over your thigh, skims over your cunt, and traces a pattern into your opposite thigh. "Boba. Fuck. I pro-promise to be better—I can do it. Please—“

He complies.

Two fingers are thrust up into your dripping cunt, curving so deliciously into something that feels like unrefined plasma bolts. His mouth dips down and sucks on your clit and with a few more curls and thrusts of his fingers inside of your clenching walls, your body seizes up tight. 

You're flying off you’re high, faster than a fucking speeder with tampered gears. You cum onto his tongue with a strangled cry of his name, sparks of blurry white lining the edges of your vision as your back arches. Boba keeps licking you through your orgasm, even as you buck and squirm in his iron hold. Stars implode behind your eyelids as heat, hotter than wildfire and jetfuel spreads from your center all the way up your stomach and down to your toes. You're shaking, lucid enough to hear Boba, and feel the vibration of his groan, as he licks up the flood of your wetness over his tongue. 

Your brain swims in hazy bliss and fuzzy pleasure as you float back to reality. He's still curling his fingers into your pussy and it hurts. You're too sensitive. Your nerves are rubbed raw and you're still throbbing—but you're too fucked out and still riding the waves of your orgasm to push him away. He takes this opportunity to tilt his fingers into your cunt faster, suckle and lave his tongue over your clit that burns from overstimulation—somehow you're back at the very edge again.

It's sharper than a blade against flesh. Your thighs quiver around him as he twists his fingers inside you and bumps agains that tiny, little patch of nerves that wrenches a cry from you. Your orgasm floods through you veins, bursting and rupturing every cell in your being. This one is blistering—charrs all the way to the fucking bone. Your core pulses around Boba’s fingers, fucking you through it until those burning waves of release eventually cease into a dull throb. You whimper and push at his forehead because he's still licking at your cunt. You panic a bit—fucking hell, he’s gonna make you cry—but he pulls away, his mouth and chin wet with your slick. 

Boba leaves absolutely no time to completely float down from your high—you squeak as his hands shoot up to grab at your hips, wrenching you off the throne and all but throwing you onto the same floor he kneels on. You flash him a dopey grin, letting your legs fall open for his enjoyment—

“Such a filthy princess,” he chuckles, extending a hand to cover your knee, bending it further out to expose more of your flushed cunt. “You taste sweeter than star cherries.”

You preen at his compliment. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

It earns you an amused huff. Boba scrapes the hand resting on your knee to the apex of your legs, thumb and forefinger gently parting your delicate, slick folds. You bite back a keening whine, utterly exposed to him as he slips the hood back from the throbbing knot of nerves at the top of your slit. Too raw. Your pussy clenches involuntarily, causing everything from your toes to your hips stiffen. Boba hums in delight at his handiwork. 

“Stars, Boba—please…” You beg, voice breathy and soft like whips of spider silk. Boba makes a sound that oozes with smug pleasure, teasing your sore clit with unadulterated glee. “Please,” you hear yourself whimper over your pounding pulse, shifting in his grasp and praying he’ll put an end to this sickly sweet torture.

“Pretty little thing, begging for my cock…” He rasps, darkly threaded sin and the husky scrape of the gray sea licking up jagged, black rock. You’re certain he could talk you into unraveling at the seams, untouched and putty in his hands for him to mold and shape. Boba’s other hand sweeps up your sternum, his fingertips dancing along the mythosaur pendant coiled around your neck. He then curls his thick fingers around the base of your throat and ever so lightly squeezes. “Poor baby—all worked up after a few days…I’ll fix that for you.” 

Before you can fully process, he grabs the swell of your hip and flips you onto your belly. The air from your lungs is knocked out of your chest, the abrasive sandstone bitting into the points of your elbows and patches of your skin and no doubt leaving behind irritated scrapes. You hear the shuffle of fabric and then Boba suddenly seizes your hips and arches them into his crotch, grinding the deliciously hard length of his cock through your wet folds. Throbbing and just as desperate as you are, Boba refrains from flinging you into another bout of teasing. He slicks himself up with your arousal and drags the tip of himself to your clenching center and sinks that first, glorious inch inside of you. 

With a low groan, Boba pushes in deeper, watching your tight hold flutter and accommodate his thick length. It’s the same as before during that night in the cantina—dreadfully full and all but bursting at the seems. The gentle rocks of his hips and gravelly praise eventually allow him to finally bottom out, his sharp hipbones resting against the swell of your ass as you shudder and groan. Fuck—

You can feel him in your fucking guts. 

Boba grants you a brief moment to settle and then—it’s catastrophic. 

Your jaw drops in a silent scream when he pulls back, all the way to the tip and slams back into your tight heat. Boba’s hand tangles into your hair at the nape of your neck and and pulls, forcing your back into a sharp arch. The action leaves more of you open, somehow pressing in even further. He hits so deeply within you—stars it feels like he’s splitting you open and laying you bare. 

His dark chuckle resonates above you—a bit breathy as he tames his own frazzled nerves. “Shit—that feels good. Doesn’t it, princess?”

Your incoherent babble makes him laugh as he gives your hair a playful tug, all the while he never stops thrusting in and out of you. You wiggle your hips, the slight shift makes it ache, and the sharp downward thrusts put delirious pressure on that patch of nerves that renders you dizzy. Every muscle in your body feels like it’s a tightly spooled cable, fraying and an inch away from snapping. Your gasping breaths pitch into airy squeaks as the fist twisted in your hair tightens, tugging your head back just a bit more.

Boba lurches foreword, the nip of beskar a frigid shock to the bare skin of your back when he lays over you, his elbows caging you in close. His head drops onto your shoulder blade, pressing sloppy kisses over the arch of your throat and slope of your shoulder—without warning he sinks his teeth into the juncture of your neck. Maker save you—

The feral drag of Boba’s teeth digging into your sensitive flesh skin makes you squeeze around his cock—Boba answers with a soft growl that vibrates against the skin of your shoulder. Somehow he fucks into you harder, his pace becoming brutal. Your nails scrabble against the floor, searching for some sort of anchor as you wail under him.

It’s too much—fuck, you’re gonna implode. Pinned between the rough sandstone and the hand in in your hair, mixed with the sharp pain of his teeth marring your skin—you loose it. Sensing your peaking orgasm, Boba’s fingers wedge between your legs to toy with your clit. He rubs quick circles with two fingers as he purrs words of filth into your ear—how good his pretty thing is for him, how well you came for him, how tight you are. 

“There you go, little one,” Boba says, his words like a tendril of dark smoke. “Cum for your king.”   

His efforts are quickly rewarded as you shudder and lock up harder than durasteel beneath him. A blinding surge of vicious heat, knocks you clean off your feet and steals away all the air left in your lungs as your nails dig into the sandstone—trembling and grappling blindly for a foothold in your own head. The cold chest plate is a much needed anchor for the overwhelming intensity that threatens to drown you and bury you six fix under.   

He bites down again when he cums, his hips digging into you with short, rough jabs. “Fuck—you take me so well.” You squirm, feeling his cock throb and spill into you, making the mess between your legs smear over your thighs. His thrusts stutter to a stop as he sighs deeply and pulls out, a mixture of his cum and your arousal spilling onto the floor. Boba huffs above you, drags a finger through your swollen folds and pushes it back inside of you. “Good girl.”

You shiver—reduced to a useless puddle with no intent from moving off the floor as Boba’s weight moves away. You could sleep here—that’s something completely plausible you think. Nice, warm dirt—

Boba purrs your name—the sound piquing your interest enough that you overcome the heaviness that’s settled in your body and move your head. He’s returned to his throne, cheeks a bit flushed and his chest rising and falling to recover precious air. You watch as Boba peels off his cuirass with practiced ease, and lays it with care onto the floor. He murmurs your name a second time and pats his lap, coaxing you off the floor. 

You happily slither onto his thighs, exhausted and all too eager to be swept up into the warmth of his arms. He grunts as you tuck your head under his chin and cuddle into his chest, relishing the rough scrape of his palms folding over your shoulder and the outside of your thigh. His soft breaths tickle the top of your head paired with the quiet, but steady rhythm of his heart beating beneath your fingertips and ear pressed onto his sternum. Your eyes flutter shut and though a hushed silence falls over the room, there’s nothing to be said. 

Boba tucks his nose into your hair and you smile, the slow speak of your heart unraveling into a lush garden of something new and brittle—like flakes of frost in the early morning sun. He’s more bruise than bleed nowadays—a wound closed then reopened and he promises nothing of a future beyond what you have in these moments. And yet—

You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. 

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