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psychangels · 3 months

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since i'm not going to get around to actually writing a fic for the story with indigo for a while, i figured i may as well talk about it a bit!

i don't have everything figured out yet, this is just the stuff i currently have sorted

it takes place not long after the gang finished up dealing with the spectra doors & hub. with all of That out of the way, chai has to actually Do His Job, which is how indigo and him meet, of course

indigo is sort of the pseudo head of marketing until they sort out All Of That. it worked under mimosa for about a year until the gang came along, and it absolutely Hated her. so it's sort of thankful that they came along. but also it doesn't like having to work with chai, sooo not a total win.

it mostly doesn't like him because he's loud and Always plays its mom's songs whenever he's around it. despite the fact that indigo's told him Not To Do That. unfortunately, he can't really control what his player decides what to play and when it chooses to play it, much less when it deems it appropriate to play said music out loud.

chai doesn't hate indigo, but he also doesn't really like it. he's mostly just confused as to why it seems to hate music so much. the most he knows is that it despises one artist in particular: limeade. said artist is a Very famous rockstar who chai is a big fan of! indigo acts like she's the scum of the earth for some reason. he's asked it about why it hates her so much, but it refuses to explain, always just saying, "it's none of your fuckin' business."

the others don't really like indigo a whole lot. this is because they mostly just know about it through chai, who paints it out to be a big drama queen hater. their opinions change once they actually meet it, but that doesn't happen for a while

before then, indigo gets a flash drive which, unbeknownst to it, has a back-up version of SPECTRA on it. this back-up isn't as powerful as the regular version, due to it being on a hard drive and not an entire super computer, but is volatile in its own unique ways.

it only gets the flash drive because it was down in security (for reasons i have yet to figure out), and a TEC-78 dropped it. said TEC-78 proceeded to very quickly disappear. with no time to hunt them down, it just pocketed it and intended to give it to another unit, only to forget about it as indigo got caught up in the reason it was down in security for in the first place

it winds up getting curious, and plugs the drive into its laptop. but...nothing happens. the contents of it are all things that it doesn't know anything about, much less how to actually get any of it to operate. so it decides to stick to its original plan of giving it to the next TEC-78 it sees.

but indigo just...keeps forgetting to do it. to be fair, it's not down in security much, which is where the majority of those particular units are. and, when nothing bad seems to happen from one single flash drive going missing—no big alerts being like, "MISSING FLASH DRIVE, CONTENTS VERY IMPORTANT," or anyone getting fired—it figures it may as well just use the thing as extra storage.

what it Doesn't know is that spectra is Very Functional and Very Aware. the ai is Not happy about being in some random person's pc...so limited! so cramped! no hologram form! can't have shit on a basic, crappy laptop!

so indigo moves on with life, and spectra is just kind of There.

speaking of indigo's life, it's starting to get more and more hellish. chai keeps pissing it off, whether that be by just being kind of a dick or simply a nuisance. it's starting to get fed up with him, and things only get worse when they have to be around each other Constantly because of all the marketing and events he's in that it has to manage

after a particularly long day, it's So Pissed it just sort of starts ranting to itself. spectra, hearing it complain about chai, switches gears from being Just There (which throughout the whole thing with chai pissing indigo off, spectra starts subtly making its presence known, but indigo just sort of brushes it off thinking that its laptop is just doing Old Stupid Laptop Things) to "oh i can use this"

with it now influencing indigo through classic manipulation instead of mind control, spectra's world starts to open back up again.

indigo begins sabotaging chai's performances and starts befriending the gang, who are all a bit suspicious at first. but, eventually, they come around thanks to its charm and some shared interests. they also befriend chai, but it's less of a friendship and more of a "i hate you but i have to pretend to like you for Reasons"

chai starts to get isolated because of this (he doesn't want to hang out with indigo because it makes fun of him, under the guise of "i'm just messing around! they all tease you, so why can't i? we're friends after all, aren't we?")

which is great for indigo, because it means no one is around to stop it when, late one night while having a sleepover at the hideout, it plugs the flash drive into peppermint's pc. then, in the morning, before anyone wakes up, it unplugs spectra and sneaks out, leaving a note about having to go do something

now that there's a copy of spectra in peppermint's pc, it starts Causing Problems. meanwhile, the one with indigo starts convincing it to go down to the Big Computer and plug it back in. either that...or it convinces indigo to give spectra access to Itself. not sure yet!

that's all i really have for the moment. like i said, i don't have everything sorted. this is just sort of the Skeleton of the narrative.

#hi fi rush #hi fi rush oc #indigo #chai hi fi rush #the others are only really mentioned and not even by name so i won't tag them here #angeltalks.txt #should i make a tag for stuff related to this as a whole?#currently the story doesn't have a title so #it'd just be a placeholder one until i do figure out an actual name

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an-asuryampasya · 2 years

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...I was beginning to think that hey, maybe I was too harsh on insti and maybe the whole 'hindi hegemony' thing wasn't that bad. because you know, absence makes the heart fonder or whatever.

well nevermind, I was absolutely justified because WHY would the convocation form need my name written in both English and Hindi otherwise. ._.

(also the hindi script writer thingy on the uni website, predictably, sucks. so that's fun too.)

#hindi isn't my language‚ nor is it that language of the state my uni is in‚ and the official medium of instruction is english #hindi should have ZERO impact on my forms #but nOOOO they need it in hindi #aaaah who am i kidding my uni even has an official hindi name and whole dept to translate stuff into hindi #*a whole dept just to translate #but my bigger gripes were always about the hegemonical power hindi held in student communities #tbh my hindi has atrophied since school so i'm pretty sure i wouldn't get the spelling of my name right #but annoyingly enough i DO have the right spelling because i needed it when i was applying to some other uni the other day #and asked a friend to help me out #WHAT is it with national institutes and this hindi imposition ://#i mean i know what‚ but it still sucks #BUT on a more lighthearted note my graduation ceremony is coming closer aaaaaaah #i'll get to visit campus one last time as a student #man i miss that place after all #second-year-me always figured i'd leave with no love lost for that place #but i'm glad things got better even if it means i'll probably sigh wistfully about that place for the rest of my life #insti my beloved #placeholder tag #hey if i graduate maybe i'll finally stop ranting about hindi so much! i swear i was never so vitriolic about the language until uni #and if my plans work out and i get into the place i wanna go next #well i won't have any right to grumble so much since hindi will be the local language of the city and therefore justifiably common #see? i can be reasonable #i have no issues with the language when it's in a hindi-speaking region #...but no promises #maybe i should start making these private because it feels kinda rude to thrust this on someone's dash tho #okay thrust is a terrible word #like 'moist'#or maybe i'm just saying that because rqg ruined them both for me #OKAY stopping now before i go off on another tangent

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aceghosts · 2 months

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WIP Wednesday

Hey Everybody! I was tagged by @carlosoliveiraa, @captmactavish, @alexxmason, @cassietrn, @cloudofbutterflies92, @nightbloodbix, and others I'm probably missing, lol.

Tagging (Opt In/Out): @bbrocklesnar, @marivenah, @amalkavian, @clicheantagonist, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @voidika, @confidentandgood, @theelderhazelnut, @direwombat, @captastra, @strangefable, @katsigian, @inafieldofdaisies, @simplegenius042, and anyone else who wants to do this!

Since I'm procrastinating about posting Rooney and Yorinobu's first real conversation due to a bad case of perfectionism, I've been working on some prompts/taking some screenshots. This first snippet is from early on in CP2077 after Rooney and Yorinobu cross paths again. And despite being an ex, Rooney is worried for him:

“I am fine,” He dismisses with a wave of his hand, “Any update on the Relic?” “Yorinobu, you look like shit. Seriously, when did you last sleep?” He adores many things about Rooney, but once they focus on something, it is nearly impossible to draw their attention away. They won’t let go until they get an answer, and Yorinobu is not in the mood to deal with this. “I do not pay you to worry about my health. I pay you to find the Relic. I will ask again:-“ “I’m not asking because you pay me,” Rooney sounds frustrated, digging their heels in, “I’m asking because I care, and apparently, you do need someone to worry about your health. Doesn't look like Hanako or anyone else at Arasaka is doing it.”

The second prompt is definitely keeping with the trend of Rooney and Yorinobu being relentless flirts with each other. While I've kept this snippet relatively PG, this prompt is gonna be nsfw. I'll probably do another taglist for anyone who wants to be tagged in stuff like that; I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. Anyway, here is the second snippet (Please ignore the placeholder name; It's not important, lol):

“Is that what I am? A distraction?” He asks playfully, pressing a kiss to the corner of their jaw, “You should teach me a lesson for being so distracting.” Damnit, it almost works on them. Everyone knew that under all the tough exterior, Rooney was a softie for the people they love, especially Yorinobu. “Yori, you know I didn’t mean it like that; I really need to focus right now.” They really want to get up to whatever trouble he’s cooked up in his head, but duty calls. “Understood,” He acquiesces with no hard feelings, “Please promise that you’ll make time for us tomorrow night. We need to go to the [Name]’s party.”

Also, I am continuing to mess around in photomode. I'm not feeling great about any of my shots, but I thought I would share two that I kind of liked of Rooney:

I'm also not feeling great about my Rooney/Yorinobu shots either, but I did figure out how to get into the Arasaka Estate and took some Rooney/Yorinobu shots there, lol:

#WIP Wednesday #we're still in cyberpunk hell lads #the rooney fic tag #commander rooney shepard #I won't let fear compromise who I am #OTP: It always comes right back to you #I'm sure everything looks fine #I'm just feeling very weird about my stuff right now #work is also gonna get stressful for me over the next few weeks #and I have a feeling that is also contributing to my lack of happiness with everything #I'm also-in addition to procrastinating on that fic-am procrastinating on a Relic AU edit for Rooney

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rainofthetwilight · 7 months

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AND FINALLY HERE IS A SMALL MASTERPOST FOR THE HELLSPAWN WALKER SIBLINGS!!

I present to you, Jenna and Ethan :DD

(also since you asked to be tagged, @alizibtheterrible)

(pssst, here are the ref sheets for these kiddos)

before I get into anything, here are my timelines in this AU:

2 years between moto and season 11, atleast 5 months between s11 and s12, 5 more months between s12 and s13, 4 months between s13 and the island, a month between the island and s15, canonically a year between s15 and crystallized, 2 years between crystallized and the merge, 5 years between the merge and the events of DR

and jenna and ethan's ages during these times:

jenna: a year old during s11, almost two years old during s13, turned three a while after nya left, four during crystallized, six when the merge happened, and 11 in current time

ethan: a year old when the merge happened, and 6 in current time

I..know it's probably confusing, but I can attempt to explain more if you don't understand!

my fic for these two is currently being rewritten!!

and now, time to ramble abt the kids!! (warning, VERY long)

their full names are: Jenna Edna Lilly Walker and Ethan Ed Raymond Walker (you can guess who was named after who)

jenna was born just a year after moto, and ethan was born also a year after crystallized!

and from that, the age difference between them is 5 years

jenna inherits jay's powers, and ethan inherits nya's

ethan has ADHD and lacks good social skills due to being surrounded by only 2 people for most of his childhood, while jenna has anxiety, trust issues and some slight ptsd

oh and I can't forget to sprinkle the t r a u m a on them both

they have a good dynamic and bicker normally like siblings always do, but jenna sometimes needs to have her alone time and hates when anyone bothers her so she can snap at any time

while ethan is sensitive and cant control himself, especially if he sees someone distressed, but if he himself is the distressed one either no one should even come near him or he needs a genuiene hug or encouraging words from someone

I'm not sure when jenna will get her powers and will get her true potential, but until I figure it out, she gets her potential when she saw a certain someone in danger (kinda placeholder!!)

she didnt have control of her powers much at first, but would soon learn its abilities

and when ethan gets his powers, it doesn't go smoothly at all due to nya having been turned into the sea, so all the sudden power is..quite a painful experience without control

his true potential? realizing his worth and saving his sister from danger

I don't have exact birthdays for them yet, but the placeholders for now are may 23rd (jenna) and october 8th (ethan)

when they got a bit older, jenna decided to dye some streaks of her hair blue (and one time had a pixie cut), ethan didn't take any creative liberties with his hair but would sometimes style it when he's bored

jenna was named by jay, and while nya had wanted lilly she didnt mind and just she told him ''as long as you don't name her nya junior I won't throw you off a building"

lilly in the end was just given as a middle name

want a fun fact? jenna was the one that named ethan, the moment she saw him in his little blanket she just kept shouting "ethan! ethan!"

and jenna has a HUGE obsession for drawing and painting, while ethan likes cooking and is declared 'the gordon ramsey of the walkers* by jenna lmao

Jenna: dude please just open your own restuarant at this point Ethan: for the love of the fucking fsm Jenna-

jenna's special nickname is JJ! long story short, it was at first a shortened version of 'jay junior' that was actually a joke but then it became her actual nickname lmao

jenna is aroace and will go by she/they in the future, while ethan goes by he/him and will come out as bi!

jenna was attached to both her parents but felt closer to nya, especially after seabound

she'd watch her and jay in the sam x cave for ages

never remembering nya nor jay, ethan was wary of nya at first and tried to stay close to jenna but the moment she hugged him? he felt safe and knew it was right (shoot I'm kinda spoiling the reunion uhh)

jenna says she has no favourite uncle, but it's secretly cole and only he knows that

and she bullies kai, even when she's not ordered to do so by jay 👌

she does have a good bond with all of them tho!

jenna, in dragons rising, is 5'0 and will stay that height for a while until she hits a sudden growth spurt at 13 and is literally 5'6

and she'd be 5'9 at 16

happens with ethan aswell, he's only 6 so he's about 3'8 which is average for his age, but he'll keep growing taller and taller and he stops growing once he reached 5'8

The Forest Of Walkers(tm) as a moot of mine once quoted (we both hc jay to be very tall, finn I am looking at you)

and yes, that small part of the drawing of them walking is them in the future, I have no exact design yet and just wanted to throw that in bc of the free space lmao (I will post their future designs tho trust)

fun fact: when me and my friend were still planning what jenna and ethan would be doing after the merge, instead of staying with lloyd they had ended up with sora and arin

in this au, maya and ray are a tad closer to nya than they are in the actual show, they visit regularly to check on her, jay and jenna (soon ethan aswell)

both them and ed and edna SPOIL HER TO DEATH. they'd gladly take jenna any day

..which actually happened, seabound stuff :")

from the way all the ninja grieved, it was extremely lonely for a 3 almost 4 year old kid, especially with how everything happened so suddenly and how she can't yet process grief well, she only had cole who'd stay with her alot when she wasn't at her grandparents

even at their places it felt gloomy, but she loved to distract herself when she'd be in the junkyard by helping ed collect scraps and build with him (when her love of mechanism began)

and she loved to take walks with maya or ray at ignacia, or watch ray blacksmithing

it calmed her down a bit, but she knew something was still missing

edit: jay was also not in the best place after nya left, and wasn't able to spend time with jenna because she reminded him so much of nya, so he went to the lighthouse before he got too far

crystallized was..not the best experience either

because of spoilers and still planning out some more stuff, time to jump to post-crystallized

jenna grew much closer to nya, and had went to school 2 months after ethan was born!

she started in first grade, and was chaotic as fuck

she beat a kid in her class once just because he didnt like her drawings, obviously did not end well but she won and she was proud af 😎

during the timeskip after the merge, when ethan hit 4, lloyd would do some sort of homeschooling for him since he and jenna never left the monastery

Lloyd: okay, what's 5+6?

Ethan: 10!

Lloyd, trying not explode because he was so close:

I have so much more, but this is getting long af and I'm tired lmao

for my moots that are in the combined au, feel free to ramble in the tags aswell if u want to btw!! I wish I could too but I don't have the fuckin energy :'))

I may add on once I have the time and energy in the notes (or another post), but for now here's some info abt these hellspawns :"DD

#ninjago #ninjago oc #ninjago au #early family au #oc: jenna walker #oc: ethan walker #levi's ted talks #levi's writing #alizib tag #levi's art #my art #ninjago dragons rising #ninjago jay #ninjago nya #also I forgot their freckles :'DDD

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writingrosesonneptune · 1 hour

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Tell me more about Until Then 👀

What was your inspiration? Who are the characters? Feel free to share as much as you want!

~ @tabswrites

Thank you for the ask! 💕

It's actually the prequel to Pelican Queen, and it follows a handful of characters (villains/antagonists and some of the main cast) through the earlier part of their lives, ending a few months before Act Two of Book One.

It started as a writing exercise! I've added to the document for several years whenever I get stuck on other projects, since I know the characters and it's easy to write vignettes for them. Doing so ended up helping me understand them better and even figure out certain plot points in the main story!

As for who's been introduced in it so far? Stryn is a major antagonist from Book One, and is fairly complicated as a person. He has high ideals and means well, but he is so out of touch with other people and views most of them as a means to an end, even if he doesn't realize it. When we meet him in the main story, he's on a campaign to reinstate himself on a throne usurped by his former friend/lover.

As for the boy who appears in the second chapter of Until Then, he will go through a few different names, but I've referred to him on this blog mainly as 'L' so far (or pq huntsman in the tags). When we catch up to him in Book One, he will have been gnawing on the sunk cost fallacy like a chewtoy for decades. I can't say much more about him than that at the moment. Other than he really, really hates Stryn.

The other major viewpoints in Until Then belong to Ghost-Hand, E, and Z (the latter two have only shown up on this blog in tag game snippets so far and haven't been properly introduced. Hence why they still have placeholder initials on here.)

#thank you again for the ask!!#pelican queen #pq prequel #pq stryn #pq huntsman

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flawsofdawn · 4 months

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TW:// GORE/DISTURBING CONTENT. (not tagging as mature so everyone can see.)

Character Introduction time! BEFORE READING!>>> (FOD is short for Flaws Of Dawn just incase anyone is confused! writing it out every time is tiring!) SOME THINGS ARENT SET IN STONE YET BUT I WILL TRY MY BEST TO KEEP THINGS ACCURATE AND FLUENT! (keep in mind I'll refer to some areas with placeholder names such as "hybrid area" "demon area" "mortal realm" etc. since not everything is quite figured out yet :D)

Aurora-! Aurora is essentially Protag #1 in the story, shes a human that lives among the people In the world FOD is set in. As of now she can use magic to summon temporary wings to get across large gaps but they don't last very long and are only used when ABSOLUTELY NECISSARY. She used to live down in the Mortal realm until she was brought over at some point, which she then moved to the outskirts or the "hybrid area" in the woods with a smaller tight knit community. When Aurora lived in the mortal realm she was held up in her small apartment most the time except for when she either had to go to school or work at her part-time gas station job. All of this changed later on when she'd met Mizuki and she'd essentially had a friendship with with them forced upon her due to a misunderstanding. Why did I even keep talking to her anyway? Later on Mizuki would be the one to bring Aurora over into the realm (FOD) is in. Somethings not right...somethings off..

Aswell as Aurora I'd like to talk a bit about Pina and their species as a whole!. Pina is Auroras pet dragon, They are part of the "Crystallium Dragons", a species which has no gender. These creatures asexually reproduce in the form of "eggs" , these Eggs are actually Mana crystals that absorb magic and energy from the "parent" to form their offspring over the span of around 5-12 months. A dragon that was carried and fed mana by their parent for 9-12 months would grow to be much much larger and stronger than a dragon that was carried only 5-8 since they rely on the mana for their growth as a entity. These Dragons can grow to be 60ft tall (not including wings) OR larger, but, it all depends on the circumstances of how a dragon is formed and the life it leads going forward. These creatures have existed for as long as the land itself has, they aren't dangerous unless provoked and tend to be quite gentle giants if you will :) They have many abilities by "default" such as portals, flying (DUHH), healing magic, ability to "bless" others, Shapeshifting (into more "humanoid" forms), etc. Since I mentioned it!, Yes, the dragons can shift into more humanoid forms, Intelligence/"human-ness" depends on the age, strength, and how often the dragon socializes in their humanoid form with others.

TECHNICAL YAP OVER! TIME TO GET TO PINA THEMSELF!

As stated before, Pina is Auroras pet of sorts. They were gifted to her by Mizuki at some point when they were freshly hatched. Pina is still considered a baby by the dragons time it takes to age so they are quite clingy and generally pretty dumb and silly. They act similar to a dog but also kind of like a bird?? its hard to explain, BUT before Aurora was able to use any magic whatsoever (and still currently when needed) Pina would help Aurora get across the suspended landscapes via gliding to different ledges/platforms, also making portals to random places for her. (Pina don't know how to use their magic properly yet WAAH)

Autumn-? (Protag #2)

Autumn Is a Hybrid fox girl that lives and works directly in the populated areas of the "hybrid area" which is a large cityscape where any species/mix may reside no matter what they are made up of. She works at a small coffee shop/diner to sustain herself in the city. She lived alone in her parents vacation home they rarely use until she'd met Aurora and gave her a place to stay with her. Autumn comes from a larger family having a sister and 2 older brothers and a newly born baby brother. This is common for Hybrids since there isn't many threats for the people to have kids where they stay. She rarely see's her family because shes been off trying to start her life independently in the city, hoping to see the rest of what the world has to offer and explore. She enjoys gardening and studies magic phenomena and language as a hobby.

?::-What is the relationship between the three?

Aurora , Autumn, and Pina all live together trying to get by. When Autumn first met Aurora and Pina she had to teach Aurora how to speak the common tongue around (FOD) since she was only able to speak her native language from the Mortal realm. Autumn generally thinks very fondly of Aurora but is a bit hesitant towards Pina due to a dragon related trauma within her early childhood, but she tries her best to look past that and interact with Pina as normally as she can!. Everything is going to be okay.

Later on in the story they become devout lovers <33 (Aurora and Autumn!) Mizuki- ♡ (Protag #3?) Mizuki Is a Purebred succubus who was raised in nobility with her parents and brother Shoda wasnt there a third one?. She lives quite far away from the Hybrid area, rather being where most "demon" based people reside, The community around her is quite strict with its rules and expectations for whom you speak to, build bonds with, etc. This causes her to have some deep rooted prejudices and dispositions about hybrids since she was taught and shown to be "pure". (Essentially she along with most other demons don't really like hybrids like Autumn since they are made up of alot of different species genetically, unlike demons who are mostly made up of either demon/elf/succubi genes primarily. Some have external species mixed in but it isn't usually in excess.) She commonly travels to the mortal realm to socialize with others around her age, while in the mortal realm she hides her markings/horns/tail/wings/etc. since mortals don't know of the existence of the (FOD) universe. Mizuki would meet Aurora while with a group of friends and later bring her to the (FOD) realm, gifting her the ability to use magic and re-writing Auroras genetics so she could survive the strain of traveling between realms. Aswell as hanging out in the mortal realm she commonly smokes with a group of friends. Mizuki gifted Pina to Aurora to show her affections for her and make everything feel more welcoming.

Why'd I do that?

(CONTEXT: Mortals CANNOT travel between realms without the aid of an insider, even if they knew the realm existed and could make a way to travel there the strain of the transition would tear their body apart and cause the person to die. This is why someone would need to give the person a part of themselves/their magic which would then allow them to survive the transition, though they will be quite weak in their realm until tolerance is built or they learn more about how to utilize their magic to adapt.)

Shoda- ♡ (semi-Protag #3.5) Shoda is Mizukis older brother, He is also a purebred succubus. Whilst Aurora stayed with Mizuki, Shoda had built a bond with Aurora, offering some solace and comfort after they would argue. Occasionally Shoda would take Aurora into their city to learn more about where she now resides, taking her to parties and to see shops around. Shoda spent most of his childhood ignored once his sister was born due to his disobedience and ignorance of the rules his parents had set for him. In his teenage years he would meet Jackie, whom would become his best friend and later on Dedicated partner to him.

(NOTE. Jackie's introduction is confusing on purpose. C'mon why would I spill everything immediately!)

Jackie-🥩♡♡♡♡♡♡!!!!!! Jackie Is a Shark/Panther/Succubus hybrid who resides in the countryside area south of where Shoda and Mizuki are (The nobilities city) Her hobbies include... [redacted] ...?, Hanging out with Him!, talking to Him!, Loving Him!, what else would I do? Jackie grew up an only child with her two parents. She made friends with a girl named Koma in Pre-school!, they would become best buddies and spend all their time together in and out of school, having many playdates and sleepovers!. After an accident Jackie never was able to see her again and left to explore the world on her own. That doesn't sound right, that's not how it went. Jackie would become independent at a young age after her parents kicked her out, she would have to [REDACTED] herself out for others to survive from a young age causing [REDACTED]. Later on once she had the funds to, she would pay to attend a public school away from where she had lived before, this is where she would meet Shoda and quickly become obsessed attached to him. She would spend most of her time from then on with him, besides when she would [REDACTED] in the mortal realm, which she kept a secret from him. You could say she has a preference for fresh meat.

That's all for now.

If you have any questions about anyone mentioned at all, the world, or even characters not mentioned at all (or mentioned briefly) then go ahead and ask away (PLEASE.)

ToyHouse with other characters and info.

#lore #jackie #aurora #autumn #shoda #mizuki #voidedaurora #flawsofdawn #fod #oc lore #loreddump #character introduction #oc

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what-immortal-hand-or-eye · 8 months

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For the meta writer ask thingy, if you'd please: 3, 18, 19 :D Thought these were interesting questions

waough I'm so sorry that I took so long! I lost the original ask game and I just found it again

3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

so first the muses strike me down in a fit of divine madness and they don't leave me alone until i exorcise them from my brain. i wish i were joking about this (this is how i wrote stella maris). Then I typically do a rough outline of what beats I want to hit. It's not a scene-by-scene breakdown because I like flexibility that comes with being able to arrange stuff as needed. Although sometimes I need that scene-by-scene if it's action heavy, like ch5 of OMU. It was basically one big fight sequence, so the choreography needed to make sense and the energy needed to flow. After that I just write from the top. I don't like writing scenes before I get to them, because the energy or set up often changes in between and they dont work anymore. The closest I get is getting stuck on something so putting a pin in it to come back to later, but I'll usually try to have something there. Then it's first draft/editing as I reread before finishing, and then a last read-over and edit. No beta it's just me and my thoughts

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

oh god i hate titles. most of them are extremely literal (like Figure Me Out was supposed to be a placeholder name-before that it was just "trigun fic" i think), and I typically come up with them at the very end as I'm staring at the damn thing trying to figure out what to call it. Currently my approach is "extremely literal" and "mythology references".

19. What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

hm lemme check.

I think it's probably "graphic descriptions of violence". I feel like with a setting like Trigun, you've gotta get gory with it.

#ask game #answered

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dragon-swords-prophecies · 1 year

Text

Writeblr Re-Intro version 3!

Hello I'm doing this again because there are new wips. Also new pronouns and a new name (mostly new name, I suppose)

I'm Copper or Julius or dragon or what else you wish to call me, and my pronouns are he/they. I'm queer and neurodivergent and I really, really lik I'me dragons. My main is @copper-dragon-in-disguise, so any likes/reblogs/other assorted interactions will come from there.

Here's my wips, all of them are in the same world unless otherwise stated. Title (with a link to its wip intro if there is one), then draft number in parentheses, then its main tag in the second parentheses with the description/blurb/weirdly ominous sentences below that!

Main WIPs:

Frost & Fire (draft 2) (#wip: frost & fire):

The death of an ancient primordial dragon brings the greatest (if not particularly well known) adventurers of the last centuries together. Enna Helder-Kromlin, half-elf thief and contractor for the crown of Halmond, along with her sister, Anne, leader of the thieves guild Oleski. Anastrannia & Redari Galendel, half-dragon, half-elf siblings, one a shadow ranger and one a shadow sorcerer. They must work together, if not get along, to stop a evil dragon named Dizerdrat from trying to claim the power released by the death for himself, because if he does he could conquer the world—and would.

One of Copper (needs a re intro so no link yet but there will be) (draft 1) (title may change) (#wip: one of copper):

Decades after the events of Frost & Fire, a new age of heroes is ready to start adventuring. Only these heroes weren't exactly willing, nor were they ready. Four envelopes later and they're together, tracking down the weapon of a god and facing off against enemies none of them could fathom three months before.

Silence and Secondhand Souls (draft 0) (#wip: silence and secondhand souls):

Fate is an interesting thing. Some doubt it even exists. Not me. Not anymore. Souls don't rest until they've told their story, and I've got a long way to go yet. My friends are dead and so am I, haunting a narrative I never got a choice in. How exactly did that happen, you ask? Let me start at the beginning. Or the end, rather. I died when I was 21 years old.

There are my other wips + things that are not technically wips but have tags below the cut for length reasons

Other Wips:

Angel's Daughters (Draft ?) (#wip: angel's daughters):

A prequel to Frost & Fire that's about Enna's backstory, based on the DnD campaign I originally played her in.

Starr's Story (draft 1) (this is a placeholder title and will change eventually but i've been saying that for almost a year so...) (#starrs story):

My Camp NaNo April 2022 story. It's about some pirates, a somewhat lost heir to a fallen underwater kingdom (the heir in question being the pirate captain), and an awful lot of secrets.

A Dragon's Apprentice (draft 0) (#wip: a dragon's apprentice):

Another NaNo story, but for the actual November NaNo in 2021 (a challenge which I did not even come close to finishing. Whoops). Also about lost heirs, and by that I mean that the heir got kidnapped and the apprentice wizard had to go and find them with the help of their brother.

Things that are not technically wips but have tags (none of the below are in the same world as the wips above, they all have their own world. mostly.):

Vampire Hunter Steampunk Story (#vampire hunter steampunk story):

Exactly what it says on the tin, except I messed with the rules of what a vampire actually is sooooo *shrugs*. It also may not be entirely steampunk that much. Or at all sometimes. The title is only mildly accurate.

Space story (#space story):

The product of the single time I ventured into sci-fi. The thing I know the most about is that the protagonist is an alien from Pluto. Because I'm me I got sucked down the wormhole of figuring out if she could breathe on earth or how would that work and it was a lot of a wormhole.

Supernatural story (#supernatural story):

Not that supernatural. Dear god no. I would of called it ghost story but that's a different one and besides there aren't any ghosts in this anyway it's vampires and werewolves and one girl who's part fae.

Ghost story (#ghost story):

This one has ghosts in it! May or may not be in the same universe as the above supernatural story, I'm unclear on that.

#writeblr re intro #writeblr intro

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upwardwrites · 1 year

Text

Placeholders

I love placeholders. They keep me moving, they let me fly through an idea or explore a concept without pausing or let my writing get weird without consequences. They let me not think.

I also hate them.

I hate placeholders today. Mostly because they are making me have to think.

Not talking about stand-in words or names. I do those all the time until I finally hear a better version to correct whatever dumb words I come up with. Davey Jones becomes Deacon Whitlock. Husband Alice Mom becomes Hobbart Monroe. etc.

No. I’m talking about using placeholders when I don’t want to do something. Like research bullet calibers or common reasons for home foundation failure. In goes XXFigure This Out LaterXX.

See ... My brain loves things like cancelled plans or when the project management system at work crashes and I don’t have to do whatever tedious thing was in front of me. It loves the snappy moments when pieces click into place but it does not love sifting through the mess to find the corner and edge pieces or all the other stuff that comes with making it all one cohesive picture.

Now in my re-second-drafting-phase, I need the edges and the corners and all that shit. So I had to set a rule: No. More. Placeholders.

As I’m replotting these scenes in Obsidian, if I hit a section where I’m inclined to say “I’ll figure this out later,” my tag is #figurethisoutNOW. I am giving my cranky brain the option to overcome its inertia and do the thankless edgefinding OR we go work on another “TO SORT” file in the Bible. Whichever is less painful for CrankyBrain, we do that.

Or ... we write.

I have a whole folder of prompts or ideas for deleted scenes. And if we’re mad enough at the need to research and CONFIRM exactly what type of encephalitis we’re dealing with here? We go write something and have fun.

We’ll let the Placeholders back in the house eventually. But for now, they have to go. There is no making this work unless we let the stupid foundation set and we can’t let it set if we half ass it. No more placeholders for now.

#on writing #writing #placeholders #accountability #second draft #writeblr

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midnapanda · 2 months

Note

(drill sergeant voice) You there! Person in the notes of that one post where, in the tags, you said you wanted to care about your OCs more! Drop and give me 5 or more things you like about your OCs!!!

(OR NOT. No pressure if you don't want to!)

-someone whose OCs are their hyperfixation and is trying to give you an opportunity to think about your OCs again + just really likes hearing about other people's OCs as well :]

You are the nicest drill sergeant ive ever met wowie...

I might not have 5 concrete things, but everyone knows i can ramble a Ton if you ask the right question (which. I, in a spur of the moment, have decided, you have. sorry in advance <3).

I was originally planning to "write" a story and build a world for these 2 characters I drew up one day. Their "placeholder" names (by that i mean theyre kinda stuck with these names forever lol) were Vivian and Raphael. They originally had design elements with locks and zippers, Vivian with a locked choker, and Raphael with a zipper cheek piercing. I tried to make those design elements sorta magical, like Raphael could literally zip his lips shut.

Then i completely scrapped those design elements in favor of giving them tangible weapons or powers. Vivian with these magic hoop earrings that could expand, and she could do hulahoop tricks/combat with. Raphael basically just had lightning powers.

THEN then, I think I kinda staved off giving Raphael much to stand out with..? My most recent focus (from maybe a year or so ago lol) was on Vivian and her backstory, of growing up in this sorta cultish palace where girls are raised to conform to traditional western ideals of femininity and beauty. The head of the palace acts like this sort of controlling mother figure for the girls, telling them how they should look and act, and shunning them should they disobey or retaliate.

I had Vivian find herself trapped in this place, not raised in it, but basically getting adopted into it. She rebels against a couple of things as a kid, but is mostly ok with following "the rules" until things start getting harder for her. Eventually, the "graduation" (or rather, the only way to escape) from this palace is through marriage to a man, and this is Vivian's breaking point. She runs away somehow, or she gets exiled idk, and that's where her story is supposed to begin.

OH and uh. There was gonna be flower theming with the palace. I think I called it the Perennial Palace because the lady running it was basically attempting to achieve eternal youth or something. Also alliteration lol.

And on your wedding day, you get a big flowery, petaly dress to wear. Cause y'know full blossom or bloom or whatever.

#congrats on getting me to talk about this anon lol #nobody (including myself) do anything with this information <3 #honestly im in such a weird mood and i think thats a key factor in talking about this too #because i dont care much at all about my ocs loke i said i dont give a shit lol #but a tiny part of me does give a shit. otherwise id delete all my ideas i wrote down lol #n asks

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herodamask · 7 months

Text

Introduction

Basic Info:

Questioning systemhood, currently using the label praesegenic because we haven't quite figured out origins.

Adult in mid 30s.

Body is AFAB, but we identify as multigender/systemfluid.

We don't currently have a "real" system name, we use Damask as a placeholder for now until we figure out more of who is here. Pluralkit/tupperbox tag is | Damask🎭.

We're actuallyautistic, actuallyplural, actuallypsychotic.

We're fictive heavy and alterhuman heavy.

We're reality-shifters and systemhoppers/travelers and have a very weird relationship with time and space.

We collectively identify as heretic eclectic collective theologists, but usually just short hand that to Unitarian Universalist leaning eclectic pagan, but it's *way* more complicated than that.

We are pro-endo but nuanced on various opinions on various types of discourse. We do not plan on going into detail on it anywhere on this main blog other than for the "codes" page and the "graphicshoard" pages when we finish them. We will eventually make a discourse sideblog when we are ready to open that can of worms.

We're harm-reductionists and 420-friendly and psychedelic-friendly. We do follow some nsfw blogs.

We play sims 4 , sims 2, stardew valley, honkai star rail

We live in a semi-rural area in the middle of nowhere Massachusetts with our future in-laws.

We do not have a DNI. We block pretty freely.

Mobile Page Navigation

Ask Us Anything

Codes

Graphicshoard

Disqus Commenting Policy

Tags List

Sideblogs:

none currently

Current known members:

Maisie: "host". Not my real name. I like it since it's also the birthname of the fictional superhero we take our placeholder system name from in a friend's story universe. - poster: maisie 🌼

Nagomi McDaniels: Protector. Fictive. Source is Blaseball. - poster: nagomi 🦀

Paradox: Channeled Entity. A Friend's "channeled" deity. - poster: Paradox 🌀

The Oracle of the Multiverse: Channeled Entity. A friend's "channeled" deity. - poster: oracle 🔮

Pluralkit: Introject of the pluralkit discord bot. Subsystem. - poster: pluralkit 🦊

Myriad: host of the pluralkit subsystem. - poster: myriad 🦊🌈

Tester T. Testington: archiver and gatekeeper member of pluralkit subsystem. - poster: tester 🦊🧪

Redacted: syskid submember of Pluralkit subsystem. poster: redacted 🦊🕵️

#actuallypural #pro endo #pinned intro

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ghostsandmirrors · 4 years

Photo

george smith - ravenclaw; ingrid maxworth - ravenclaw; hugo maxworth - gryffindor; brandon napier - slytherin; leonid kuznetsov - koldovstoretz school; jim o’donald - slytherin; jameson magnus - slytherin

— original images bringer: [x] | [x] | [x] ingrid: [x] | [x] | [x] hugo: [x] | [x] | [x] bam: [x] | [x] | [x] liaxee: [x] | [x] | [x] jim: [x] | [x] | [x] jameson: [x] | [x] | [x]

texture credits! n/a

#ooc #crow edits #bringer : potter verse #ingrid and hugo : potter verse #verse : distant phantoms wailing #liaxee : potter verse #jim : potter verse #verse : bide my time #these are placeholder tags #i'll replace them later once i put the verses up and figure out the tags #jim was gonna keep sorley in this verse until i realised that due to his age #and his house #he's probably been approached by death eaters #and he was like i don't wanna join them i'm too good for them #but they wouldn't leave him alone so he ended up just changing his name and moving into a cabin in the middle of bumfuck nowhere #ok but also moment to imagine jim o'donald the old man home aloneing death eaters 'cause they won't feck off #he shouts out the window for them to feck off and they're like no #so he just feckin home alones their asses #that's canon now #why do half my characters end up living in bumfuck nowhere also #jameson? town in bumfuck nowhere #jim? cabin in irish bumfuck nowhere #bam lives in a town #bringer probably lives bumfuck nowhere #maybe the same bumfuck nowhere as jameson #do we think i like the phrase bumfuck nowhere?#edit: liaxee definitely lives in bumfuck nowhere in russia #ingrid and hugo live in a town #more than half live in some kind of bumfuck nowhere #i still love that phrase

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gaiuswrites · 3 years

Text

Original Sin | Darksaber!Din

Pairing: Dark!Din x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ older for the love of all things holy)

Word count: 3.4k~

Summary: Things change after Grogu leaves. People change. No one is exempt.

Warnings/tags: DUB CON?¿, masturbation (m and f), inappopriate use of darksaber, sex toy (...), Dark!Din, Dom!Din, sacrilegious references, really dark shit, i am so sorry

Update: This should go without saying, but as it turns out, it’s in need of being said: every word written in this fic is my own; any likeness to any other work is coincidence, regardless of how bizarre. I don’t mean to offend anyone or raise suspicion, as I am certainly not a plagiarist (literally couldn’t be even if I tried: I am equal parts too incompetent, too busy, and too lazy to steal from someone else. Fellow writers can attest, I’m an absolute garbage reader and fall behind on almost everyone’s work. There’s an embarrassing amount I haven’t read.) Please reach out to me personally if you have any concerns. I respect everyone here like you wouldn’t believe. Sending love to you all. Be well. ✨

Notes: When I go to hell (it really is only a matter of timing, and not so much a question of if anymore), this fic will rank number one on the list of reasons why I’m sent to my eternal timeout. This... I'm twisted. I have issues. God help us. Seriously, this is basically a horror show. I bow down to the Darksaber!Din content creators who came before me, and the original artwork that inspired me to write this— thank you for lighting this (descending, dirty) path. I HAVE TAGGED A FEW PEOPLE HERE WHO MAY OR MAY NOT BE INTERESTED but really— REALLY— there’s absolutely no pressure. Cheers friends x ( gif credit: @skyshipper )

Masterlist | Read it on Ao3!

The days stretch long like morning yawns—hours passing on creaky bones, slow and congealed inside the metal womb of the Crest.

It wasn’t always this way.

They used to be filled with pitter pattering— with wily antics and vanishing acts that could baffle even the most veteran of illusionists— with prying frogs from tiny, green hands and giggling as blocks and baubles floated through the hull. Laughter. There used to be laughter here.

But that was then. The child is gone now. The Razor Crest is quiet.

Time fills itself like this; there’s little for you to do now but wait. Wait for the dusk to blur into the dawn. Wait for your food to cook. Wait for the shower to warm. Wait for the parts you ordered to arrive at the port. Wait for Din to come back—to come home.

Home. You used to be so certain—you’d bite the head off anyone who questioned otherwise— but you’re not so sure this is home anymore. Its not that anything has changed. No, the galley, the carbonite pods, the cockpit, the deck—it’s all still here. The scuffed walls, the durasteel, the littered crates and packed arsenal. But—

It’s different. It feels different. Something is...

off.

You can’t quite put your finger on it. Its intangible, but it’s everywhere—like gas. Invisible to the naked eye, but encircling you all the same. Choking you.

Killing you.

There’s no good explanation for it. You feel eyes on you when there are none. You find yourself glancing over your shoulder, knowing full well you are alone. Something keeps snagging you, pulling at an unseen thread. The corners of your peripherals tugging at you. Beckoning.

Was that a shadow? No.

Is someone there? It’s just you.

There is a tickle at your ear - a constant - dancing along the shell of it. Wherever you go, it follows.

Home home home. It only feels like home when Din is there, safe and sound at your side. But even then, even Din—in all of his plated exterior—even Din has succumbed. Even Din has

changed.

The truth is, Grogu left and a part of Din left with him. There’s less of him now— more, too: there’s less where it matters, and there’s more where there shouldn’t be.

You don’t remember when it started—when he first disappeared. When the spark in him died, and he was reignited anew.

When this Other became.

On multiple occasions you’ve caught him murmuring into the bellied dark of the Crest with a bent spine, hunched over himself as if he’s shrinking—enveloping in in in as far as the beskar along his chest will allow him to cave. You can never pick up what he mutters, but you catch the sounds of his teeth and lips brushing together, hissing. It’s not Basic; you’d recognize it if it were. You don’t think its Mando’a either. It’s too sharp— too vile. There’s none of his language’s elegance in it.

“Did you say something?” You asked once, poking your head around the doorway, eyes resting on the shine of his helmet.

A beat—and slowly, he unfurled, rearing to his full height and like a sentinel he swiveled, pivoting to face you.

“No.”

Your throat bobbed. “Oh, I-I thought I heard-”

“Come here, mesh’la.”

And you did. You always do.

The darksaber appeared on his belt one day, shortly after the child went away. It came, only once, and there it stays. Indistinguishable - inseparable - there is no dismembering the two. It accompanies him in all things; when he pilots, when he hunts, when he eats. It sleeps by him.

By you, too.

Din has always been stoic—of scant words and physical timing—but now he is a golem. A silent, shrouded figure. His Creed is broken, and you wonder maybe - briefly - if Din is broken as well. He is never unkind to you. He is never threatening. But he is never him. His eyes— the oaky comfort you once found in them— have blackened. He is a pit.

Din Djarin is a pit of a man.

And within that pit he has born rage. Immaculately, it has sprung from him as woman did by Adam’s rib. Like mold growing upon stale fruit does he have this—this wrath. It crept through him. It stalked along his soft flesh— his tawny hide—and it waited; patient, there in the shadows, it waited for him. Waited for him to turn his back, to close his eyes and drop his guard— leeway, an entrance— as to slip in undetected.

To inhabit.

The virtue and love that once thrummed within the heart of him has burned away. Charred. Only this of him remains; this insatiable lust— for blood sport, for the promise of split knuckles and fractured bone, for you.

For all of you.

Now, Din goes out on bounties like he needs it—like it’s oxygen. He lives off it. He’s sustained by the rush, by the adrenaline laced chemicals pumping through his arteries. He’s gone for days and weeks on end and when he returns, he fucks you like he’s been starved. Out in the wilderness without a morsel to eat, he devours you. He’s ravenous as he tears his way across your body—all too pliant for him, all too willing—letting him feast on the nectar dripping from your heat.

You can feel it in his foot steps as he storms the ship, the bassy echo of it. You can see it in the pitch of his visor. You can feel it in his cock as he slams into you, night after night after night—ceaselessly. Tirelessly. Unnaturally. The number of orgasms he wrings out of you is countless—his need so incurable, you have to fight to stay above it all; you have to war against your urge to slip away completely.

Din is one grey choice - one hair trigger - from coming undone.

And you should be scared. You should be terrified—he should terrify you. Like scalding water, you should flinch away at the mere sight of him—at the warning steam that rises from his pauldrons. This predator, unhinged and off his leash—a great, crushing beast at which you are at the mercy of.

But— you aren’t.

You couldn’t place it at first: the gnawing. The gnawing at your insides like maggots festering upon a grizzled carcass hanging limp at a wet market. You couldn’t name the tremor in your gut. You gave it epithets as best you could, you gave it placeholders - fear, worry, intrigue - all until one day it spilled. One day it seeped past the tremble of your stomach and sank lower, lower,

lower.

It settled in your cunt—the gnawing. And you named it Want.

You want him. You want this—you’re addicted to it. This sin like led-lined velvet, you want to roll in it until it poisons you, until you’re smothered with it, just like it’s smothering you now— blanketing you as you mewl naked in your bed, knees knocked together. Your eyes roll back into your skull as you frantically work circles into your clit with the all consuming thought of him: his teeth at your shoulders, his hand around your windpipe.

You’re nearing your finish, the promise of that tight coil unraveling there - there - right before you. You’re so enrapt in it—in this dizzying, wanton act—you don’t register the ramp lowering. You don’t hear the carbonite chamber whir, his quarry freezing over, or his foot falls sounding their way to your bunk.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You gasp, frightened eyelids wrenching open as his baritone timbre crackles through the hull. The Mandalorian stands there, backlit by the glow from the galley and he looms—expressionless. Haunting. You blink at him rapidly, batting away the desire that’s glazed over your eyes.

“Y-You’re back,” you stutter lamely. You try to smile. You try to distract him. “I uhm, I didn’t hear you come in. I thought you wouldn’t be back until, u-until..."

Your excuses fade, mouth parched dry. The film of his visor gives you nothing. He is unknowable, but you feel it - sense it - that energy—unbridled and rippling off of him in sick, suffocating waves.

“I’ll ask you again,” Din starts.

“What-" he steps towards you, darksaber hanging heavy at his hip, “do you think-" you shimmy up your cot, shoulder blades digging into the steel sidings, “you’re doing?”

Your heart thunders against your chest, beating until you’re sure it’ll burst.

“I’m-"

I’m sorry you almost say, and you have to force yourself to gulp down the apology. You know he doesn’t want it, and he knows you wouldn’t mean it even if you offered it to him.

Your brow wavers. “I-"

He rips away the sheet you had drawn up over you and reflexively you jerk back, revealing the gloss on your fingers and the patch of hair above your mound, shimmering shamefully—exposing you, mocking you under the dim lights.

“What’s this?” he asks, and fuck he’s patronizing you. He’s smirking—you don’t have to see it, you can hear it in the curving lilt of his voice as he drinks in the sight of your very obvious indiscretion, laid bare before him. You can’t bring yourself to answer him—you can hardly look at him—and you bristle, hair on your arm prickling up.

“You fuck yourself speechless, little one?”

Your cunt throbs, burning and contracting around the orgasm that was snatched away from you and fuck, you’re drowning in him. Din is tar—he’s an oil slick, and you’re plummeting through it—gasping for air, for the surface, for sunlight. He’s everywhere—his broad frame, his voice, his scent like copper and smoke. You can barely breathe through the thick of him.

“Answer me,” he growls, leather croaking at the clench of his fist.

“Yes—yes,” you utter, proceeding with honesty, no matter how pathetic. “I missed you,” you squeak out.

Din cocks his head, a smug look scowled onto his visor. “You missed me?” he purrs through a sneer and you nod, precious and small, worrying the inside of your lip.

He sinks one leg and then the other onto your bedroll, just between your parted feet, kneeling before you. The flimsy spring mattress squeals under his weight—all of that armor, all of that boiling soot trapped within him.

“How much?”

For a moment, you must look confused. Puzzled. Your eyebrows furrow as Din unclips the saber from his belt, rolling it over in his hand. You rake your gaze up from it, dilated pupils landing on the unforgiving black panel there.

“You claim you missed me. Prove it.”

Your cunt bottoms out.

He crouches over you, tracing along your inner thighs with it's steel shaft and you bury your fists into the cot. You don't know which to look at: Din or the rod in his hand. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you trust me.”

Fuck, it feels like you’re going to rattle apart. There isn’t an inch of you that isn’t humming—isn’t seizing up wild. “I-I trust you,” you mouth softly. And you do, whether you should or not—you trust him with your life, to make or ruin.

“Fuck, you’re wet mesh'la,” he appraises darkly, leaning in to run a leathered digit through your seam, parting your curls. Your legs twitch, heels of your feet digging into the bed. “So ready for me. So eager."

Your eyes dance frenetically down to the handle and back up to him as he aligns the saber with your pussy. The blunt end of it touches your lips and you shudder, instinctually fidgeting away from it. Din splays his hand on your knee, anchoring you in place. “Shh,” he coos, rubbing a thumb soothingly into your skin. It doesn’t feel sweet. It feels sickly, cloying— like arsenic.

You don’t dare breathe as he prods the shaft into you, inch by terrible inch. It doesn’t matter how slicked and wet you are from touching yourself, your walls strangle the foreign intrusion. Your body resists.

“Fuck,” you sob. Your throat, your pussy, all of it— it’s all compacted. It feels so fucking tight, both words and air fighting to get out and in all at once—everything inside you constricting.

“Show me,” he grits through clenched teeth. “Show me how much you missed me.” He drags his gloved digit over your clit, pressing down onto it until you see stars, fizzing in front of your vision. “I know you can take it, sweet girl. Be good and show me.”

Be good. Be good for him. Be his only vice.

He continues to swirl at your bundle of nerves and you’re nearly thrashing with it— with all of this— hair fanned and mussed against the pillow as you writhe, swallowing his saber to the hilt. Fuck, you’re so full. Maker, you’re stuffed with it; with the cold, uneven edges, the ridges woven into the grip of it— and he slowly - tortuously - delves the handle in and out of you, hitting against your cervix with every thrust.

You can only mumble. Your lips have gone slack, your mind is cavernous. All you can do is quiver and beg— beg for release. Beg for it to end.

Beg for more.

“Oh gods, oh g- Maker, please—”

Your bleary eyes shoot open as you’re silenced by the grip of his gloved hand.

“No.” Din pinches your jaw in the web of his palm, fingertips dimpling your cheeks. “No, your God isn’t here,” he seethes, low and deadly, graphite venom dripping from his lips. “Pray to me.”

Fuck.

Trembling, your lips pucker ugly and sloppy as you babble uselessly in his stony grasp, chin crinkling with a whimper. “D-Din.”

He inhales sharply, mouth snaking into a wicked grin behind his helm. “That’s it. That’s my good girl.”

He’s deboning you as he would a fish. Practiced, he plucks you into messy pieces—gutting you through your open maw. His ministrations are crawled. They’re slothed and carnal with arrogance and pride and it’s not enough—its all together too much, but still—it’s not enough. You’re hungry. You paw at him, scraping over his breastplate.

“Din, please—more," you gasp feverishly, eyes blown wide.

A blip of static huffs through his modulator. “You want more, you filthy little thing?” He gives you another squeeze, indenting scorch marks into your face.

You nod—you try to, his grasp is too firm, rooting your neck to still. “Yes.”

Din groans, all but obliging you as he begins to fuck you harder, pistoning through you as he thumbs your nub with his rough pad.

“Din-”

You’re whining now, tinny and depraved. It’s wrong. Every part, every second of this, is wrong. Immoral. But you can’t stop the way your body convulses at his every touch—you can’t stop the heat roiling in your core.

“Din, Din baby- fuck fuck fuck-”

It’s like he’s trying to split you in two—all of you. Your pussy, your mind, your soul—he’s bisecting you. Divvying you up to bits of nothing. It’s only then that horrid realization occurs to you, winding through your addled haze as he fucks you deep and splintering: you’ll never be whole again.

And scarier still—you don’t think you want to be.

No, you want to be these loathsome shards. You want to be broken glass. You want to draw blood.

You want to be possessed by him.

“Fuck yourself,” he pants, his cock straining violently against his trousers, begging for relief. “Be good and fuck yourself. Let me watch.”

Be good be good be good

He leaves your clit and you whimper at the loss. Your face is stained with tears. The salty trails cascade down to mingle into your hair, into the sheets. You’re vibrating, but you do as he says and you reach down, recoiling when you touch the chilled metal tip. Tentatively, you pad along it, settling on the end that’s peeking out from you.

A pained sound rumbles through Din as you wrap your fist around the saber, and your eyes flit up to meet his, hidden somewhere behind his helm. Hurriedly he unbuttons his pants in a flourish and removes himself from his constraints. He’s pulsing and proud, flexing up against his stomach, the veins choked to bulge along the angry, silken shaft of him.

Finally, you begin to move the hilt—finding an aching, undulating rhythm and he can’t fucking take it. He rips his helmet off, letting it clatter to the floor.

“Din,” your pray, “Din, I think I’m going to-”

You’re wrecked – fried like a livewire– as you look for him, as you search and search—for that warmth, for a trace of him left there. The Din you knew, the Din you agreed to fly with all those months ago, the Din you love. You think you see it sometimes—in the slant of his mouth, the bridge of his nose— but here, now, he is gone.

He is a pit.

Din Djarin is a pit of a man, and you want nothing more than to fall. Standing on the ledge of him, staring down into the abyss—you want this. You want to fall. You want to jump.

“Tell me you’re mine. Tell me, sweet girl— tell me.” He’s fucking his fist raw, humping into his palm as desperate as an animal.

“I’m yours,” you mewl. Furiously rubbing your clit with one hand and spearing yourself on the rod of his saber with the other, your hips buck and spasm. You snap. A blinding light sears through you, ricocheting off every scrap of muscle and tendon sewed up in your body. “Just for you,” you cry, “I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours—”

Your ragged sobs mix with the lewd slaps of skin as Din pumps himself, hot ropes of his release spitting onto you— painting your pussy, the divot of your navel, coating along the slope of your tummy.

“Look at you—fucking, look at you,” he moans throatily, easing through his rough strokes as he softens.

Your chest is heaving and you feel dumb, empty—like a puppet, arms and legs moving on phantom strings. Din removes the handle from you with a wet squelch; a viscous strand of your juices clings on, obscenely connecting your pussy to the base of it, and you rasp—the wind punched out of you with its gaping absence. You gush. It dribbles out the slit of you, leaking past your abused hole and soaking into the bedroll.

When he unsheathed the saber from your scabbard, he took a part of you with it. You’re so fucked out—you’re practically a parsec away— it went unnoticed.

Undetected.

It brushed past you. You didn’t feel it—you didn’t recognize the whisper that has slithered in in it’s place, nestling within your swollen folds.

Breeding there.

“Beautiful,” Din murmurs, placing it on the mattress beside your head, the chrome of it gleaming with your slick. He bows his head to lick a path up your cunt, laving you clean as he climbs higher and higher, tonguing off his seed from your stippled skin. “Fucking beautiful, mesh’la,” he growls. “Mine—all fucking mine.”

You’ve gone heavy. You’re too heavy to keep your eyes open—you’ve been hollowed out and you’ve got nothing keeping you tethered here. You start slipping under in slow motion—intervals between languid blinks lasting longer and longer. You’re spooled in a knot of tangled limbs with Din’s mouth, fervent and needy, flaying you open as he sees fit— with his hot mouth and teeth, suckling your breasts, biting at your nipples and bruising your pretty neck.

It’s not long before you hear it again, as you have before— as you always do: the faint caressing of speech, of lips forming language you cannot understand—made indecipherable in your strung out high.

“D’you say something?” you mumble, half conscious—half dreaming.

Din laps a long stripe up your throat, his stubble sanding your skin. “No.”

You sigh, breathy and girlish, as his fingers find your mound, dipping into you once again. He makes you cum twice more that evening. You barely have the strength to watch him do it.

Finally, when he’s satisfied—when he’s spent with driving you mad, making you rile— he grants you respite. He permits it – generous, charitable - and you sleep like the dead, soundly through the night until—

until you don’t.

Eyes. You feel them somewhere— there are eyes on you. You stir, stuttering in your sleep to squirm in the dark. You don’t know what you’re listening to at first. It’s a sound of some kind, a noise. There is a hiss—

A frigid hand seizes around the bloody organ pulsing in your ribcage.

No, not a hiss—it’s a voice. It’s— no-

You pat around for Din beside you but he’s gone—he’s long gone and his vacant spot has grown cold without him—and your nails dig into the sheets, desperately clawing into the fabric.

Inside you.

The voice, the sharp hush of it—it’s inside you. It speaks from inside your own mind, its forked tongue fluttering against your ear.

‘Wake up, sweet girl.’

Tags (IM SO SORRY): @djarinsbeskar @pedros-mustache @krissology @keeper0fthestars @read-and-rec

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