#-my own original work after years of daydreaming about it just to read THAT from a posh spoiled bitch really fuckin' felt like a kick to the
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one of those fifty things was a classist af post about how fanfic writers can't actually write for shit, yes all of them apparently bc they aren't educated in proper literary devices or whatever.
are you fucking hearing yourself
#idk man but seeing that after writing fic for 11 years in a language that's not my native one & evolving ON MY ABSOLUTE OWN and then-#-going as far as to study literature now that i have the chance & finally gain enough confidence in my skills to start working on-#-my own original work after years of daydreaming about it just to read THAT from a posh spoiled bitch really fuckin' felt like a kick to the#-balls that i do not possess#like fuck you fuck you FUCK YOU#among other things like being fully purposefully deadnamed AGAIN today after yesterday's family fiasco#and getting swamped by fifty fuckin academic tasks left and right#AND a constant bombardment of imagss of mulilated children in posts with notes full of zionists excusing said massacre#and then THIS fuckin post abt fic writers or whatever#i cant take it seriously im at my fuckin limit but Unironically I'm about to start crying out of sheer anger and fury#i dont like feeling so angry. i hate it and it makes me feel like a monster but i cant DO this shit anymore#it's only Tuesday and i have less than 1% drive left for the week what the fuck#tw vent#maybe delete later idk
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Wolke's Masterlist
Guided by the stars, connected by the force (Ongoing Series) - Din Djarin x OFC
The force is a... cosmic power of sorts, maybe more like an entity. Everything is about balance. Without light there is no dark. Without dark, the light is overpowering. Maybe I should approach this differently … Think of it like a magnet. It will always have two poles, no matter how small of a piece you break off, you can not separate them. Some Jedi are destined for more, chosen by the force for greater purpose. Vader was a chosen one, more specifically the chosen one, but he was far from the only one picked by whatever the force is. While I may never be as powerful as Vader, I am bound to someone, one half of something possibly strong enough to make lasting changes. Bring some light back into this dark universe. You are that someone, cyar'ika. You are my opposite pole, which is why I can sense you, even lightyears apart. And why you can sense my presence in the force. We are connected, call it destiny if you will. I was meant to find you, and maybe we were even meant to fall in love in all of this.
–wisdoms of a drunk Maia
Wolke’s thoughts: Soooo, my first fic that I’ve written specifically for Tumblr. Whaaat. I feel like I need to tell you SO MUCH about this here story and my notes probably could need their own chapter. So… this started as a weirdly obsessive ‘not really self insert because it’s not 100% me’ daydream in 2022, which then evolved into a fic that by now exists in 4 versions. THEN, my equally as obsessed one-of-a-kind-roleplayer friend @zaddymandalorian (who is the only person that is even allowed to read said self-indulgent fics) and me decided to roleplay that storyline (kind of. Started at the same point, same character backstory, some changes, also as adjacent to the canon storyline as we could manage without it feeling forced)
That brings us to now, 2 years after the first draft was typed, introducing, by yours truly: The fic, version 5, using source material from fics 1-4, my still overly obsessed brain, and @zaddymandalorian ‘s genius additions
Pairing: Din Djarin x original female character
POV: 3rd person, past tense – For now it'll be written mostly from Maia's perspective, I might sprinkle in some 'omnscient observer' paragraphs here and there.
Synopsis: [Story begins right at The Mandalorian: Chapter 8] Din is on the lookout for a Jedi to take the little green troublemaker off of his hands. The lightsaber-wielding, slightly larger troublemaker he stumbles into on Nevarro might not be the Jedi he was looking for, but he is definitely the Mandalorian the pretty brunette has been searching. Will she finally find out what is so special about this man in silver armor?
Tags: 18+ content, MDNI! Age gap (11 to 12 years, OC is 28/29) soulmates trope, force sensitive main character, fluff, romance, hurt/comfort, slow burn, ... (more will be added as story goes on)
Additional notes:
As this is the first tumblr-specific project formatting might be off. I will try to make it as pleasing to the eye as I can
Headers and dividers might be edited as an after-thought
Zaddy will probably beta all or most of these chapters
Content warnings will be listed for each chapter – the whole work is considered 18+! Some chapters will be SFW but you will need to read all to understand what’s going on
I am not yet sure about how to handle smut – I really enjoy reading filth but when I write it, it tends to be “less vulgar” than what tumblr is used to; but this is a thought for the later chapters any way, you’re getting that painful slow-burn
Oh, and for the sake of it being mentioned somewhere: Not an English native; I have been exposed to it for just about two decades by now though
While I might not be artistically gifted enough to draw fan arts, you have the permission to do so – please tag me if you do! I also have commissions of this pair in the pipeline, so stay tuned for that
I do cosplay – you might get a glimpse or two of what Maia looks like in my mind
Of course: Feedback is appreciated. Even if it's just a string of emoji
Dividers made by @saradika-graphics unless otherwise specified
Chapter overview:
Chapter 0: [Flashback] The escape
Chapter 1: The ally
Chapter 2: The crimelord
Chapter 3: [Flashback] The stranger
Chapter 4: (In progress)
Chapter 5: (In progress)
Somewhat related solo works:
Ask game - Maia's favourite memory
6 month roleplay celebration – Commission + Drabble
Fanarts:
1 2
I still can't believe that doodles of Maia exist already. Feels unreal.
#Wolke schreibt#gbtscbtf#masterlist#din djarin fanfiction#original female character#mando fanfiction#fanfic#star wars fanfiction#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian x original character#din djarin x ofc#din djarin x original female character#the mandalorian x ofc#mando x ofc#mando x original female character
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Losing my mind re-reading this. Needs to be launched from the nest finally.
Chapter One of a character exploration series framed around some of the more meaningful lays in Rugan's life. Following him from Age 19 up to before the game. A new lay every episode.
Pairing: Rugan/Original Female Character
Rating: Explicit
Summary: Rugan is 19, struggling with life in a small town. He's heard rumors his last friend is about to leave for a better life and now he needs just one more night to say goodbye.
Tags: Established Relationship, Goodbye Sex, Pre-Canon, Cunnilingus, Bittersweet, Penis in Vagina Sex, Banter, Young Rugan
Word Count: 5,568
Below the cut or on AO3
The 20th of Kythorn, 1461 – The Year of the Goddesses Blessing
Hilp, Cormyr
Evening
The small town’s tavern was full to bursting with a swell of bodies and joyous noise. From corner to corner, the building is packed with festive clientele, tankards in hand. Most patrons have given up finding a seat and settled for standing where space will allow. Several disparate renditions of bawdy songs sprout in different clusters of friends and war for auditory dominance of the establishment. A bellowing voice from behind the bar shouts to keep the noise reasonable but is too happy with the booming solstice business to fight too hard against the din.
Rugan wedges in through the front doors and bodily pushes his way through the crowd. Finding footing where he can between the swell of other people, he casually nabs an arse-less stool as he passes by. Someone tries to shout after him with verbal claims, but he pretends not to hear as he hefts it over his head and carries it above the crowd to a back corner near the dusty edge of the fireplace where he can find just enough space to sit unbothered.
From his perch, he watches through the crowd as a young blonde barmaid darts between customers, weaving gracefully with more pints than he could ever understand possible in her arms. She smiles and laughs with some customers, passing out rounds to the sitting and standing alike. Tonight patrons linger with her a bit longer than usual, with fewer immediate orders and more conversation spun special just for her. She nods emphatically to some, gives modest smiles to others, and conflicted frowns to others still. Occasionally someone reaches out to hug her and when her arms are empty enough she lets them, returning the gesture graciously.
After a particularly large order, she finds a moment of respite behind the bar and hulking barkeep. With a brief stretch and deep sigh, she leans against the back counter taking a moment to nibble a likely stale bun and gulp down a half-watered ale. – Just enough ale to keep her friendly. More than enough water to keep her upright in the heat. And a bun just stale enough to sponge them both and keep her from pissing like a horse every hour. – She had emphatically defended her method to the young man once with no lack of self-certainty when he scoffed about how awful her on-the-job meal choices were.
While the barmaid waits for the next deliveries to be readied, she readjusts her hair, grabbing loose strands and fitting them back in place in her low bun. She complained to him once she thought her hair looked like straw– but he thought it looked like the first rays of sunlight casting through the trees in bright golden streams. It made him think of the peacefulness of dawn, the comfort of home, and how she always smelled like spring. The corners of his eyes crinkle as an unconscious smile pulls at his lips. He would never tell her, she’d only add this small poetic streak to the sprawling list of things she chose to tease him about already. It was a happy thought he would keep to himself and safely contained to his daydreams of her.
Her brief break ends as she’s passed a fistful of pints and a steaming plate of roast. He loses sight of her in the crowd but finds her again as she pushes her way along the outskirts on her way back to the bar.
As she swings close enough, he catches her by the wrist and gently yanks her to his isolated corner.
“Hey! No touchi–,” Furiously, she spins to face him, her free hand raised and ready to strike. The moment she recognizes him the rage melts away to a coy smile. “Rugan!” Her voice is still irritated but drops playfully. She brings her poised hand down to his cheek and lightly slaps him.
“Good evening to you too,” He laughs and releases his hold on her. With an exaggerated frown, he rubs the lightly reddening spot on his cheek. “You’re going to owe me for that one. Could’ve done some major damage to my best asset, Sanya.”
“It’s your onlyasset.” She says with mock sternness, placing her hands squarely on her hips.
Rugan cocks his head and raises an eyebrow, “That’s not what you were saying la—.”
Sanya threatens him with a withering look.
He holds his tongue but gives her a wicked smile.
“Sanya! I need you back here now!” The barkeep shouts, his voice just deep enough to carry over the crowd.
Sanya glances at the crowd and back to Rugan. “Look, I’m still working. I don’t have time to gab with you.”
The smile slides off Rugan’s face. “I didn’t think you’d be working tonight. What time is he letting you go?”
“Usual time.” She frowns. “Are you going to be a customer or a nuisance tonight?”
Both, he wants to say, but even he knows better at the moment. “If I could get my usual, I’ll wait around until you get off.”
“Aye? I bet you will.” She winks and gives him a cocky chuckle. There’s a sadness in her eyes, but before he can do anything about it she disappears back into the crowd and returns to her duties.
♦ ♦ ♦
Rugan waits patiently for another three hours, nursing a pint, and a plate of whatever Sanya can weasel away from the kitchen. At one point he joins in on the bawdy singing, adding his own spin to the lyrics and making eye contact with his favorite lass whenever she dares to look his way. He sings himself hoarse for the briefest slivers of her attention. Each time, she rolls her eyes with a smile and continues about her business with a shake of her head.
When the crowd thins down to just him and a few low-energy regulars, the barkeep waves Sanya over. He throws a sad glance towards Rugan sitting with his empty pint held on the stool between his knees. With a nod to the lonely boy, he quietly tells her, “Go on then, dear. I can take it from here.” The old man passes her a small satchel with her pay of the day and a little extra. “All the blessings on you for your adventure.”
She thanks the large man with a tender pat on his hand and turns back to Rugan.
Rugan stands, placing his empty mug on the stolen stool behind him. With a few long strides across the near-empty room, he has her in his arms. He steals a quick kiss before he lowers himself to wrap his arms around her waist and raises her up so he can gaze up at her. She places her hands on his shoulders to steady herself and smiles down at him. Backlit by the chandelier, loose strands of hair frame her like a glowing halo.
My sunrise. He thought, but then the realization set in.
For the first time ever, she didn’t argue or fight back when he kissed her with an audience. He knows in his heart now, that the rumors were true: tonight was goodbye.
♦ ♦ ♦
The two slip away into the festive night but don’t make it far before Rugan becomes impatient. He pulls her aside around the edge of the tavern’s alley. Tucked out of sight, the words come tumbling from his lips. “When are you leaving? Where are you going?”
“Tomorrow morning, at the arse crack of dawn. I’ve got my passage secured on a caravan passing through from Arabel. We’ll head south of the Storm Horns and head westward. I’m thinking I’ll see what I can find in Elturel and if there’s nothing there for me I’ll head westward still.” She shrugs casually like she’d practiced the speech a thousand times and gave it a thousand times more today.
“When were you going to tell me?” His voice wavers.
“I did tell you. You didn’t believe me.” She tries to put on a brave face, but her pale, hazel eyes are downcast.
Rugan swallows, his throat suddenly too dry to speak. He did remember that conversation. At the time he didn’t think much of it. They had both spent every day since they were at least ten complaining about how there was nothing in Hilp worth seeing. How they would go on great adventures. How they’d steal the horses from the Dzavars’ stables and run off into the night. When she told him her actual plan to leave, it simply felt like another shared daydream.
“...why are you going?” His voice cracks. Half a foot taller than her and he feels like a child trying to beg his way out of punishment.
“I can’t stay here. I need more from life than….this.” Sanya flails impotently at her smock and the buildings around them. “There's nothing here for me.”
“I’m here.” The simple words cut cold and deep.
The spark in her eyes dies for a moment, she looks like a rabbit caught in a snare, uncertain and hunting for a way out. She glances from him and down the alley, wringing her hands in the pockets of her apron. He wished in that moment he could take the words back, shove them down his throat, and choke on them before they had a chance to hurt her.
Her eyes are misty when she finally looks back at him. “Ru…” The old nickname sounds like a lament. Sanya glances away again, but this time it feels different. She breathes deeply, steadying herself, and shakes her head. “You can’t hold down a job. You were a tanner last week and you’re a cooper this week. That's no way to live. Not for me, not for you.”
It was true: he had been working odd jobs since his tenth summer. He had become good at learning quickly and on the job. Even so, each job would last only as long as an employer would tolerate him before his mouth got him in trouble – which wasn’t nearly long enough in a town this small.
He reaches out to her, placing a pleading hand on her upper arm. Against her better judgment, she welcomes the warmth of him and leans into his touch.
“Sonderson got a more permanent apprentice from the city and Jandal needed someone after the last boy lost a finger and refused to come back. I go where the work is. Where people need me. Some people say that makes me a handy man to have around.” His face softens as he tries to reassure her with a smile, but he can’t quite manage it.
She chuckles at him, placing a hand over his. “I think you misheard them, you’re a handsy man, Ru.”
“Aye. That I am.” He moves closer to her, leaning to place his forehead against hers. With his free hand, he strokes her hair gently. For a long moment, they stand silently together in that alley. The sounds of the hamlet’s solstice celebrations wind down to near silence.
Rugan pulls away first to look her in the eyes, as he promises, “I won’t hold you back, Sanya. I wouldn’t dare.”
He pushes a loose strand of sunshine out of her face and tucks it back behind her ear. The tension in her shoulders and the worry on her face fade away before his eyes.
“I’ve known you long and well enough to know no one and nothing in this world can.” He continues, smiling at her genuinely even as he feels his heart breaking in his chest. “Just let me have you one last time before you go.”
Please. His heart begs.
She doesn’t make him say it, the pleading was clear as day in his sad blue eyes. She pulls him down and kisses him softly and not another word is said.
♦ ♦ ♦
Rugan doesn't know how he got back to her room in the back of the tavern. His eyes were locked on her and the rest of the world and their celebrations ceased to matter. The two enter the dark room and Sanya paces quickly towards her tinder box on the far counter. While she lights a lantern, Rugan bolts the hefty door behind him. Waiting impatiently, he leans against the door while he watches her. He knew full well the moment he got his hands on her he wouldn’t be able to stop himself and the last time he had interrupted her with the tinderbox she had slightly lit both of them on fire. Scorches of that incident still stained one of the wooden countertops.
The room was cleaner now than it had ever been in the three years she lived here. It had once been an auxiliary food preparation room when there was hope left that Hilp could be more than it was always doomed to be, and now the room served only as staff quarters and storage. Remnants of its hopeful origins decorate the room with counters and excessive wall shelving. The in-use bed lay half made by the door, others stacked against the wall and out the way. A tub lay to the side partially filled from the day before, with a jug of fresh water between it and a washing basin. Sanya’s scant belongings had been pulled off the shelves and packed neatly in a traveler's bag next to the door with her road clothes laid out next to it.
As she closes the lantern, he slides behind her. She barely manages to snuff the match and push the tinderbox away before his hands are on her. He begins at her shoulders stroking his way down to her waist where he deftly unties her apron, letting it tumble to the floor.
“Rugan…” she rasps and leans back into him.
His hands continue downwards, tracing her hips with his palms and coming to rest at the top of her thighs. With a twist of his fingers in the fabric, he pulls her skirts up one fistful at a time.
“I've been sweating all day...” Sanya protests weakly but grinds her ass back into him and his growing hardness.
“I don't mind.” He kisses the back of her neck.
“I should bathe before tomorrow…” She tries to reason.
He smirks against her skin. “You'll want to bathe when I'm done with you, anyway.”
With her skirts lifted he slides his hands beneath the fabric and kneads her hips and cheeks, tracing the line of her underclothes. Whimpering, she leans forward against the counter to brace herself as he works over the tight muscles of her backside, easing the ache of the day away. Rugan ruts against the cleft of her ass, erection straining against the ties of his trousers. He bites back a moan at the sweet friction.
Sanya reaches behind her grabbing for his bulge. Her fingertips grazed the head of his cock through his pants and bucks at the sudden touch.
Quickly, he snatches her seeking hand. Rugan leans over, pressing her chest flat to the counter beneath his muscled torso. “Not yet.” He rumbles into her ear, sending a blissful shiver down her spine.
She huffs, squirming impatiently and grinding back into him for more.
Rugan pushes the lantern to the side and steps back. Before she can protest the loss of him, he turns her around and picks her up with an arm beneath her thigh and another around her waist. Then he hefts her onto the counter facing him. He slides between her legs, running his fingers over her knees and thighs. She grabs for him twisting her fist into his shirt to pull him into a kiss, and locking him close with her ankles behind his thighs. He presses back into the kiss, groaning as she tugs at his lip with her teeth.
He reaches behind himself unlocking her legs to slide her boots off, dropping them to the floor behind him.
She uses the brief distraction to release his shirt. Her hands fly immediately to tug again at the ties of his breeches.
Rugan pulls her hands off him, lacing his fingers through hers and holding them out to the side. “I told you not yet.” He growls and kisses her roughly.
Sanya struggles against his grip as he holds her in place, kissing along the lobe of her ear and down to her neck. She manages to slip one hand free of his, palming his erection through his trousers while she grasps again for the ties. Before he can grab her again, she manages to pull the knot undone.
Holding her tightly by the wrist, he growls against her neck, “Do that again and I’ll tie you up.” Unable to help himself, he presses his straining bulge against the heat of her spread legs
“That’s hardly a threat. I know how shite your rope work is.” Sanya smirks defiantly and groans as she rolls her hips against him.
He releases her hands and grabs her by the chin, kissing her until she’s quiet. She was right, his knotwork was sloppy and getting better but it wouldn’t do to argue now.
Sanya places her hands against his chest while she returns his kiss. She slides them against the width of his pectorals, admiring the firmness of his muscled chest.
Rugan keeps his hand on her chin, pressing through her parted lips to roll his tongue over hers. With his other hand, he ventures beneath her skirt, slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties. With her hands on his shoulders, she uses the leverage to lift herself just enough to let him slide the fabric over the curve of her ass and down to her shapely thighs. He slides out from between her legs, breaking the kiss to take a step back far enough to pull her smallclothes down the rest of the way.
Her face flushed and her lips swollen red from kissing, she watches him with half-closed eyes as he lets the garment slip from his fingers and fall to the floor. She holds his gaze while she takes her hair down, shaking golden waves free. He takes a moment to memorize the sight of her: Flushed, legs spread, skirt up around her hips, cunt slick with need and shining in the lantern light.
He was going to miss her.
Rugan presses forward, pulling her flush to him at the edge of the counter. He rests his hands on her strong thighs as he captures her mouth with his. She grinds against him, her wetness streaking the front of his breeches. At this moment he couldn’t care, pressing his bulge against her. He slides one hand to the back of her head, winding his fingers in her hair. His kisses trail from her lips and down the line of her jaw to her neck.
He nips her, sucking roughly at the skin of her neck.
Sanya moans loudly, as the sensation sends a wave of pleasure through her. “No marks.” She orders through the haze.
Rugan releases the suction and instead presses gentle kisses along the graceful line of her neck, down her collarbone, and to the top of her blouse. He can’t help but grin as she tugs the top of her blouse down for him, exposing her perky breasts to him. Taking the hint he trails kisses to the peak of one. He pauses, glancing up at her before flicking a tentative lick across the pink bud. With a gasp, she grabs him by the back of the hair and presses his face into her tits. He opens his mouth, sucking the nipple in and rolling his tongue over the hard peak. She moans, bucking her hips against him. He slides a hand up her thigh, holding her in place at the hip while he lavishes her with flicks of his tongue. His other hand trails up her side, firmly grabbing the other breast.
“Please,” She whines. “Please fuck me...”
He pulls away, pressing a forceful kiss against her mouth. “Hush.” He orders.
She locks a leg over his hip and grinds against the fabric of his trousers, protesting his authority silently. He couldn’t help but thrust back, precum leaking from his throbbing cock and soaking through his own smallclothes.
He wanted to give in so badly, to plunge himself to the hilt in her soft folds. To feel the way her walls fluttered against his cock, to hear her cry out when he thrust so deep she swore she saw stars. But he wanted to remember her and the way she tasted.
Rugan pulls away from her mouth, pressing rough kisses into the breast in his hand. He gives it a parting nip that elicits a startled gasp.
Before she can complain, he sinks to his knees before her, pressing wet kisses on the inside of her leg from the top of her high socks to the inside of her hip. He lingers here, pressing his face into the crevice between cunt and leg. He can feel the heat off her core, wet and wanting. Savoring the feeling, he groans against her skin sending low rumbles through her. She bucks against him.
“Please…” She begs again.
Rugan ignores her pleas, swapping to the other leg to plaster it with kisses. At the top of her thigh, he sucks the skin into his mouth until he leaves a mark. Moaning openmouthed while she watches him, she doesn’t fight it this time. She would curse him tomorrow on the road, but at least his name would still be on her lips. He changes thighs, sucking a matching welt into the soft flesh of the other leg.
“Please Rugan, just touch me, I can’t take it.” Sanya whimpers, tears brimming at the corners of her eyes. She tries desperately to roll her hips into him but he holds her down.
He gives in now, nosing through her wet curls. A quick flick of his tongue across her swollen clit sends a wave of pleasure through her. With a breathy moan, she grabs him by the back of the hair, forcing his face into her cunt. She locks her legs over his shoulder and places her free hand behind her for leverage.
Rugan obeys, eagerly lapping up the pooling slick from her folds. His nose presses against her clit, earning him ragged moans. Her thighs tighten around his head and he wraps his hands over them to keep her from locking him too tightly in place. He places his tongue flat against her entrance, licking an agonizingly slow trail up to her clit and ending with a quick flick. She bucks suddenly against him with a loud gasp, sending her juices dribbling down his chin.
“More...” She sobs, desperately pressing his face against her.
He slides one hand up from her thigh, tracing his fingertips across the soft skin of her legs. Her skin prickles and she sighs at the softness of the touch. His hand comes to rest at her apex, his thumb pressed over her nub. With his tongue over her entrance, he slowly traces matching circles over her folds and clit, not yet willing to give her what he knows she wants.
“...you bastard…” Sanya whines breathlessly as she clenches around nothing.
Rugan smirks, plunging his tongue into her. He groans as her slick coats his tongue and he feels the subtle flutter of her wanting walls.
“Gods….yes…” She throws her head back, moaning loudly and grinding against his face. His cock twitches at the thought of being inside of her and he loses himself in her cunt, grunting loudly as he laps her wetness up. His thumb flicks quick ghosting touches over the tip of her clit while his hips rut mindlessly into nothing.
“Please…please…I need…” She chokes out broken cries, unable to form the right words.
He knows what she needs. Rugan pulls his hand away from her clit, replacing it with his mouth. He folds his tongue to cradle her clit, sucking at it hungrily. Deftly he rearranges the position of his arm beneath her thigh, sliding his fore and middle fingers into her. She shudders with relief at the sensation of finally being filled. He thrusts in and out of her slowly, gathering slick before he presses deeper. His fingers curl upwards, firmly stroking her walls until he finds the sweet spot.
The grip on his hair tightens as he finds it and she gasps and arches her back. Her pussy clenches tight around his digits. He picks up his pace now, flicking quick licks across her nub and thrusting his fingers firm and steady against her core.
She groans, rocking her hips into his face. Her cunt squeezing tighter and tighter around his fingers. His erection throbs painfully in his pants. Desperate, he releases her thigh, clumsily undoing the strings of his trousers while he lavishes her clit with swirling licks.
After a moment of blind fumbling, his cock springs free and so needy the cool air on his precum-soaked shaft sends a tremble through him. He palms himself for some relief, spreading precum over his shaft and pulling the foreskin back over the swollen head. The friction causes him to nearly spill then and there.
Not yet. Not yet. Not yet. He pleads with himself, tightening his fist around his cock.
Rugan turns his focus back to Sanya, flicking his tongue over her clit while he pressed firmly at her core just the way he knew she liked. He needed her to come before he spilled on the floor. He needed to be inside of her. He needed her. He chokes back a sob as he sucks desperately at her nub. His fingers pick up their pace as he feels her cunt grip him tightly. Her breath hitches as her thighs flex. His vision darkens as she squeezes tightly around his head. He maintains the pace of his fingers, pressing his tongue flat across her clit.
The hand she was steading herself with jolts forward, gripping the edge of the counter for dear life as wave after wave of bliss runs through her. Rugans leans his face against her soft curls, thrusting steadily into her with his fingers until she releases her grip around his head with her legs. The blood rushes back to his head and he takes the opportunity for a cheeky lick at her cunt, startling her with a jolt of overstimulated pleasure. She pulls him back by the back of his hair, forcing him to look up at her.
He smirks up at her, with red lips and his chin smeared in her wetness.
It takes her a moment to catch her breath. She looks down at him, still lust-hazed. “Take your fucking pants off and get in that bed.” Sanya manages to gasp out as she moves her legs from over his shoulders.
“Yes, ma’am.” He teases, knowing full well how very much the term grated on her.
She releases her grip on his hair, giving him a sharp slap to his cheek. “Now,” She orders, “Before I change my mind and kick you out instead.”
Rugan stands, chuckling while she eases herself off the counter. The moment her feet touch the floor, he pulls her in for a quick kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth. She moans into it, enjoying the taste of herself on his lips. He places a hand behind her waist, trying to press their bodies together.
Sanya jerks back, pushing him away with a firm palm against his chest. “Don’t you dare wipe cum on my clothes right before I leave.”
“Slipped my mind, love.” Rugan smirks and kicks her abandoned boots out of his path as he saunters backward. His turgid cock jutting out from the opening of his pants and bobbing with each step.
She knew better than to believe him. The asshole had done it more than once. With a glare, she turned her attention to unlacing her bodice before he had a chance to ruin it.
Rugan kicked his boots off and haphazardly to the side, watching her intently as she pulled her laces free from their fixtures and let the bodice fall freely to the floor beneath her. He backs up towards the bed, pulling his breeches and underclothes down in one go, tossing them to the side with his boots.
Sanya follows him across the room. Her eyes trace hungrily from his throbbing erection to his smug face as she pulls her blouse off. With a wink, he pulls his shirt off and tosses it across the room.
When he reaches her low-lying bed, he sits down against the headboard. With a hand loosely around his cock, he strokes himself lazily while watching Sanya remove her layered skirts. Releasing their ties, she lets them pool to the floor where she stands before she gets into bed.
Sanya joins him on the bed, throwing a leg over his thigh to straddle him. Tenderly she brings a hand to his cheek, running her fingertips over the thin scruff. A mixture of emotions paints her face as she traces the contours of his jaw. The sadness in her eyes makes his heart ache. He opens his mouth to beg her to stay, but she catches his open lips with hers, driving the words from his mind. She moves her hands to his shoulder and she braces herself as she slides slowly onto his cock. They both groan loudly into the kiss as she adjusts to accommodate his girth.
Rugan clenches his eyes shut, gripping her tightly by her ass cheeks as she takes him to the hilt. Desperate and already too close, he holds her still. Leaning his head back against the wall, he pulls away from the kiss, savoring the relief of her wet cunt around him finally.
“Gods, you’re going to be so popular…” Rugan gasps, running his hands across the soft skin of her thighs.
With a frustrated glare, Sanya places her hand over his mouth and hisses at him, “Just shut up and fuck me. Before you ruin it, prick.”
He grimaces at his idiocy but obeys. He slides his hands to her back, wrapping one behind her waist and another at her shoulder as he thrusts up into her. She moans, leaning forward leaning her chest against his. The hand on his mouth slides to his shoulder, nails digging into the skin as she rolls her hips down to meet his thrusts. Strong arms pull her close, crushing her against him while he pumps up into her tight cunt desperately. His cock throbs and he can hold back no more. Rugan buries his face against her neck as the muscles of his core tighten. “I…” He whimpers against her skin.
“Yesss…” She pants.
Rugan squeezes her tightly, holding her in place as his thrusts become sloppy and erratic. With a final thrust, he cries out loudly as he spills inside of her. His grip on her slackens. His hands slide across her smooth skin sending delightful shivers through her.
Sanya whispers gentle kisses across his cheeks as she lifts her hips only to sink back down onto his waning erection. Their mingled fluids drip out of her and across his groin. He runs his fingers up her back and into her hair, running his nails across her scalp. She moans, arching back into his touch while he tries to memorize the sight of her spread across him. His chest aches and he pulls her in, kissing her deeply.
♦ ♦ ♦
Cleaned enough, Rugan lays on his back with Sanya tucked against the side of him. “I'll make something of myself.” He whispers into her hair, tracing patterns into the bare skin of her back.
“I know you will," she murmurs into his neck. He feels a smile form, pressed against his skin, and knows immediately that she’s thought of something dumb.
“Well then, out with it.” He braces himself for a joke.
“It's bad.”
“It always is.”
She hits him playfully but shares her joke anyway. “You're going to make everyone Ru the day they ever met you.”
He shakes his head. “How long have you been holding onto that one?”
“Ten years, give or take.”
“With jokes like that maybe it is a good thing you are leaving.” He scoffs. But the flippancy doesn’t stop how much the realization hurts.
♦ ♦ ♦
Midmorning shines through the battered shutters. Rugan watches dustmotes float in the streaks of light as he lazily traces the space where Sanya had laid next to him. True to her word she had left before sunrise without fuss. Rugan cursed himself for not being able to stop her. Drunk on the afterglow of her, he had slept peacefully deep and hadn't noticed as she got out of bed, bathed, and went to meet her caravan with her life on her back.
Now he was left with only the consequences of who he was: unwanted, alone, poor… and about to be fired again. He had been due at work at least three hours ago, the final allowed error after a string of last chances from every farmer and tradesman who could still find pity for the boy who got left behind.
He needed to get the fuck out of Hilp.
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Uuuh, I'm not going to ask about the rarepair one because I know it must be a secret, but are you willing to talk about any of the others? Only if you want to ❤️❤️
The rarepair is definitely not a secret in fact I already talked about it here!! Since you very kindly gave me free rein here I will use the excuse to ramble about the other, non-rarepair fic in the rarepair! doc (the "Mathieu is a witch" fic), because I kind of love it and wish more of it would be on paper instead of in my head. I started writing this for the weekly prompt "new" and then immediately realized it needed to be like 10x longer than what I had time for.
So imagine, if you will, an AU where 1. witchcraft exists, but 2. Wout does not. Mathieu grows up fully dominant in cyclocross and is sort of losing motivation to better himself so he comes up with this imaginary rival in his head. As the years go on, his daydreams get more and more elaborate--he gives his rival a name (Wout, meaning "ruler of the army", "ruler of the forest" according to his, and my, quick googling), what it would feel like to win and lose against him, and oops, what it would be like to kiss him, be held by him, etc.
The more obsessed he becomes with his imaginary rival, the more time he spends away from home, practicing witchcraft in the woods. He's always dabbled, because hanging out with the witches at the magic shop was a good way to avoid going home as a kid. But now, he has a plan. He knows it's theoretically possible to conjure new life, but that according to most people, it's one of the worst things you can do. Of course Mathieu's not going to bother to understand why--he's going to conjure Wout.
I imagine the conjuring/post conjuring scene are like super fucked up. Mathieu literally tore this man out of his brain and made him into flesh, and that's weird! Here's a snippet from the morning after...
And also like, he used to fantasize about Wout and nothing was stopping him from wanting to kiss him, touch him, fuck him, etc. But in the real world, there are boundaries, and Wout is a real person now with his own goals and desires etc. I definitely had a section on this specifically that I can't find now (it must be in another doc) where Wout is like "why do I want you? is it because you made me that way?" and Mathieu is like what have I done.
I was originally thinking about ending this fic immediately after the conjuring with a scene where the sinister consequences of his actions start to become clear, but I think the "what happens after" is too interesting to me. Like (1) how does Wout go from brand new sitting in the middle of a pentagram to actually being Mathieu's rival? (2) what happens when he does? This unfortunately requires more brain power than I have had lately so I have no concrete thoughts to share on it just that I think it's interesting!!
Anyway if you made it this far sorry and also thanks for reading my rambly thoughts! I would've loved to make this an actual thing (and I still want to) but unfortunately I don't really know entirely enough about witchcraft to make it happen, so it just lives in my mind and haunts me every day that I don't work on it!
#mathieu is a witch fic#maybe if i start again now i can finish it in time for halloween clown face emoji#also lol if anyone wants to help me out with the world building... i am listening#cycling rpf
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Interview With a Writer
I know I usually do Ewanverse or HotD, but I fell in love with this story. Thank you @bhxrdy for indulging me and answering my questions. 💜 As always, Interview With a Writer is my ongoing series of the talented souls on Tumblr and ao3, and their brilliant writing!
Dividers by @saradika
Name: bhxrdy
Story: timeless
Paring: modern Finan x original female character
Warnings: Explicit/18+, be mindful of chapter warnings!
So, when did you start writing?
I started really writing, like 10 years ago now - right into 2013. I had discovered and gotten very into (I'm shy to say) k-pop, and at the time, social media was new to me. I had joined a couple of forums here and there, but really got into the thick of it once I joined Twitter and Tumblr. It was also then - for the 1st time - that I found out about fanfiction, which was an unfamiliar concept to me.
Its a bit blurry, but I remember I started reading a few stories here and there about my fave group at the time and - I don't remember the specifics but - I had eventually started coming up with wild scenarios, small ideas here and there, that I wanted to put down on paper.
Writing in general was relatively new to me (a few years before, when I was in high school, I was writing "poems" and other notes in a massive emo-like notebook - all because of a boy of course), so the idea of creating something substantial, like the fics I had read so far, was a bit terrifying but also kind of exciting because I stumbled on something brand new to me and was dying to be part of it along with some new online friends I had made (which I unfortunately lost touch with over the years).
Within the span of 2013-2015, I wrote 28 stories (on a 3rd party site) - a mix of one shots and multi-chaptered fics, which includes 2 unfinished stories - which were left to die by 2017-2018. I had finished school and started working, which totally changed my routine. The lack of interactions in the fandom didn't help either as by then, it was pretty much dying from the band's moving on and eventually disbanding. The stories are still there, my account is still there, as I don't have the heart to take it down. I've spent so much time on them, and loved every genre I wrote. I either went fluffly fluff or super angst and dark, all of them fun to write.
After that I moved away from the fandom as well and just the k-pop scene in general. I took a hiatus from writing altogether too - the will of it had died so I mostly focused on editing. And then, I started back again in 2020, wrote a couple of stuff on Tumblr (for the 1st time) until I stopped again a few months later. The inspiration stopped and I just couldn't bring myself to write anymore. So I moved away.
And then this year, TLK happened and I just had the inspiration back on the tip of my fingers, just swirling in my brain and was dying to write it down, so I gave it another shot and wrote my first Finan fanfic. It was very rusty getting back into it after so long but I'm glad I did because I got to meet amazing people which I'm grateful for.
I have a tendency of daydreaming a lot, I can easily get lost it my own head. Finding out I could actually just write them down, liberating everything I held up and see them face to face vs. just thinking about them, became a whole new ball game.
Where did the plot for timeless come from?
It hit me out of nowhere and happened when I was re-watching The Originals (TVD spin off). I'm not sure how, but it physically/literally stopped me in my tracks (mind you I wasn't doing anything special, just going to the kitchen to get a snack) as if I was hit on the head with it, like, "Yes! omg! shit! this is it!!"
I immediately picked up my phone and started typing random thoughts and notes down for the story. It was very rough, just generalized ideas of what could happen. Some of those ideas did change trajectory from where they started, but I'm hoping they were good changes and worth the story telling 😊
Watching The Originals helped with the inspiration. I knew Finan was always meant to be cursed, I just had to figure out the best way to present it. I also drew inspiration from other witch shows like Charmed, A Discovery of Witches, and BTVS. I love anything related to the supernatural and witchcraft, so it was fun coming up with the initial layout of the story.
At the beginning, I debated if it should be a one-shot or multi-chapter based on how much I had come up with. I was 99% sure I would stick with the one-shot, but eventually the 1% took over and I just went from there...the lines took a life of their own.
Explain your interpretation of Finan. What drives him? Why is he the way he is in timeless?
I was mostly trying to stay true to how his character was built on the show and transport that in writing within the concept of the story (I'm sure I've strayed, but hopefully that's alright).
When we first meet Finan, he's infiltrated modern day life as if he was part of that world, always. Then he meets a woman on a random night and everything changes for him.
Thinking of it this way, the man has been by himself for a thousand years - the life he knew, his family, his friends - everything from his past has disappeared and he is all alone, and so he was just at this point in his existence where he was done with everything, partly discouraged from being immortal, partly begrudgingly accepting of his fate as a man who will never die.
But then he meets Rebecca, a woman who has no inkling whatsoever of who Finan is, i.e. their meet up was random passing of time in the(ir) universe. Once they meet, his life alters. She was the light at the end of a tunnel, she was a beacon of hope. Meeting her, befriending her - he found purpose again. He was ready to fight again, to live like a normal man again.
Throughout the story, I tried to focus on this aspect specifically - on the basis that he is hopeful to become a free man again. And though, there is conflict within himself, to the point he was ready to give up again, I'd like to think that Rebecca was simply someone he needed in his life. Not because of what she could do for him, but because of who she was, as a character, as a person to him. She put her life on hold for him and in return, the universe gave them something that everyone wants - to love and be loved and not be so alone in the world.
Finan, having been alone for a century, found his drive through Rebecca - through her presence, always standing by his side and fighting for him. Them falling in love was an added bonus.
Do you feel Rebecca/Bex complement Finan in this?
I would like to think that she does, because she gave him a new spark into his life, allowing him to feel truly alive again - which was something he had been deprived off since his original lifetime (i.e. since the TLK era).
With Bex's stubbornness driving him insane at times, I think it also helped him on the hope aspect - she was willing to go to the ends of the earth for him, for someone she had just met all because she wanted to make things right, to help him (a stranger, when they met) find peace. She wasn't reluctant about it nor did he even ask for help (he was the apprehensive/suspicious one). And I believe, at the end of the day, it all came down to how they felt about each other from the night they met. They unintentionally nurtured a connection they created until it became so immense, they ended up wearing it naturally, like a second skin.
Not only was she his anchor to the world of the living, Bex had become the part of him that died a long time ago. This makes me believe - in a some kind of weird way - that she was his soulmate. That, despite the heaviness of the curse, Finan was meant to cross path with her, that the(ir) universe gave him a break in the form of a kind-hearted and stubborn as a mule witch. A woman who would end up gifting him a second chance, and the opportunity to experience the good aspect of life again (as well as love).
Where did the dreams and the curse lore come from?
The dreams part of the story was inspired by The Originals, as there is the concept of the “other side” where non-resting souls are (the cemetery/graveyard scene description was inspired by the one they have on the show) - so I leveraged it and made it so Bex was forced into contact with another witch while sleeping instead of through a spell (as she had no reason to contact the dead while awake).
For the curse, I knew what I wanted out of it as it was already part of the original draft when I first came up with this story idea. I knew where it was taking me and how I would want it built - the reasoning behind it though was a bit if the tough part which I had also integrated into the storyline with Bex losing her shit over it.
Any chance of a sequel? Or do have anything else you are working on next?
So, unfortunately no sequel. But it does not mean I haven't thought of an epilogue - or kind of. Just random scenes with Bex of what life is after the ending that randomly play out in my head. I don't think I'll want to write them mostly because I want to keep the ending as is.
I'm working through a few other stories at the moment. The priority ones are for Osferth (a one-chaptered drabble for your 1k celebration, and a multi-chaptered fic which will also tap into the supernatural concept), which I am hoping to get started - officially - very soon!
I have some others dangling as well, which should eventually come soon as well - this includes Finan, Sihtric and Aemond.
Do you have a personal favorite story you'd like to share?
There are so many to choose from! We Were Something, Don't You Think? by Maggie (@inthedayswhenlandswerefew), as well as Comet Donati and Have You No Idea That You’re In Deep?
Some other favorites include Wolf-Heart by @gemini-mama, Crimes of Passion by @itbmojojoejo, Sanctuary by @st-eve-barnes, and Winterwood by @lonnson
There is also a myriad of Finan x Aisling (OFC) fics by @persephones-journey which are heart-wrenching and good.
And Fire in Her Eyes by @emilyhufflepufftlk is another amazing one for Finan fans.
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Hi! I’m a big fan of works and they’ve inspired me a lot to start writing fanfiction again(specifically Naoya lol). It’s been probably over 10 years since I’ve written fanfiction(Although I do write my own original works) and I’ve been horrified to write fanfiction again after how my first fanfic was treated when I wrote it as a kid(the criticism was valid but they were mean af about it). So I was wondering if you have any tips you could share about writing fanfiction and how you balance characterization as well as character growth for a character like Naoya who in canon does not really have any? I hope this makes sense. I’m willing to elaborate further if it doesn’t but if you don’t wanna answer this, it’s totally fine too-💚
Hi!!!
Omg thank you so so much!! I'm so flattered :')))) akgakjgjakjgujka I never thought i'd be in this position, idk, like, I was the one that looked up to others you know?
but aaaaah thank you so much for your lovely words 🥺❤️
Now onto the good stuff hehehe.
So, I guess the best way about characterization, at least what I think has helped me (and how I handle it? excuse me if it doesn't make sense hahah) is trying to first analyze the environment in which said character grew in, how it affects him, and how it has affected people in real life. (cause at the end of the day, reality surpasses fiction)
For example: with what little we got from Naoya in the manga (extras included) I can easily say Naoya is not liked, thus, he’s very lonely. The type of person that surrounds himself with “yes-people” because of what they represent, not because of who they really are. Of course, the older he got the more cold/resentful he became, but even then, I was sure that he always craved what he never had in his life, a family. Love. Appreciation for who he is. All humans want that, we’re social people, we live in societies for a reason. We need to have companionship, either through partners, or friendships.
I also get the idea that, even when he was supposed to be the next heir, no one really wanted him. Like, he got the job because “There was no one else” to do it, not because he was the best candidate. I have no doubt that if Naoya failed his weird plan of getting rid of Megumi, or whatever he did he didn’t become heir anyways, he wouldn’t know what the hell to do with his life, an identity crisis would certainly be on his way.
Anyways, in order to get inspiration I tend to hear lots of podcasts about people and their peculiar stories, true crime even, it’s how I concluded that Naoya is definitely a womanizer not because he likes the act (I’m sure he does) but because he craves attention, and he needs it whenever he can. That kind of stuff, you know? A lot of psychology stuff too, it helps you understand what traits a lonely person can inhibit, their actions, what different environments do to different people, so on and so forth.
Also, reading other stories is certainly very inspiring/productive too :> I can easily say that Naoya and his family is based on the Todoroki’s from bnha: prodigy child, rest of the children are neglected, some of then even jealous… it just made sense. And I’m sure there’s more examples like that. There’s no shame in getting inspired by other works, as long as it’s not a carbon copy, you know?
In the end, I guess the best way to do characterization/character growth is to do lots of brainstorming, in the sense of: what is the environment that this character grew in? the problems he can face in such place, the reaction, his main goal, what he’s doing to obtain it, and so on. Developing these things will make the pieces slowly fall into place when it comes to making a character’s background/growth/personality 🤭it’s really fun, more so when you have a blank canvas to work on 😏
Well, I hope it was of any help!! I really don’t know how else to describe how I do these things, I just spend most of my time daydreaming and such. But still, if there’s anything else you’d like for me to further explain, just let me know and I’ll do my best ❤️
Take care, and hope you have a wonderful weekend!!
P.S. Don’t let reviews discourage you from writing fanfiction!! I know everyone has their opinion, but at the end of the day it’s your work, and if they don’t like it, they can write their own!! 🥺 so cheer up!
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writing ask game: 16 and 19!
from this ask game
16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?
Umm... It has been A While since I've regularly read physical books (mostly read on Libby/other phone apps these days), but I've done the usual random scraps of paper in the past.
When I was a kid obsessed with Narnia in elementary school, I made special friendship bracelet bookmarks for my set that matched the colors of the covers. Some might still exist at my mom's.
I also remember buying bookmarks that looked like castle tapestries.
19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?
When I was a kid, I loved stories and reading and daydreaming and playing pretend (mostly on my own, as others aged out of it). I enjoyed my elementary school creative writing assignments, and started writing poems and stories in my free time too. That continued through high school, and around high school I also got into fanfic (mostly as a reader, but I wrote fan poems, short snippets, and a ficlet/one shot or two that I never shared with anyone else).
In early college, I finally posted a tiny bit of fanfic (on website that thankfully no longer exists), but I had an unfinished WIP that hung over my head for years and years. (It wasn't even that long a story! It just became an impossible task.)
And then there was over a decade of basically nothing. I wrote for college/grad school and for work, but papers, memos, PowerPoints, emails, etc. are not exactly creative writing.
The Owl House rewired my brain, as they say. It started out as a show I started watching mid 2022 while folding laundry, but in October 2022 I started bingeing in earnest. I was still finishing Season 2B when Thanks to Them dropped, but once I caught up... oooph. Immediate rewatch. I read some fanfic, but for the first time in over a decade, I was itching to write. I started with one drabble — 100 words seemed like a realistic goal — which turned into a drabble sequence. Then I posted a one shot a few days later, then another one shot, and... After having an AO3 account with zero posted words of my own from August 2013 to mid October 2022, I now have over 50k up and more in drafts.
These days, I consider myself a fanfic writer in it for the long haul. I know that life responsibilities/health/etc may interfere with writing from time to time, but I've found my way back before and I am confident that I can do it again. I am a little anxious about having multiple multi-chapter WIPs up on AO3 — there was a reason I initially intended to stick to one shots/one shots in series — but fanfic writeblr helps immensely. When in doubt, I write drabbles.
I am in zero rush to focus on writing original fiction, but I have decades of life yet. Who knows — maybe I'll write a short story collection or a novel someday for fun, but I'm not nearly as passionate or dedicated (or talented!) as my friends/acquaintances who are writing/making art professionally. That's where I am with music too — I love being part of a community choir and I hope music will always be a part of my life, but it's a hobby. And as much as I desperately wish we supported full-time artists better, I also wish more people could just "dabble" in creative/artistic endeavors (time and money being big gatekeepers for hobbies too).
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Your plots and characters are so engaging, how do you do it? Where there any books or book series that may have helped shape your style of writing, or did you just keep writing fanfics until your writing kept improving and you developed your own style?
Hello, quiet one! Thanks for the compliment, and the question!
I wouldn't say there's one particular book or series that inspired me. Last time I moved house, over 20 of the boxes were just my books! Not even kidding... I've got horror, I've got romance, I've got sci-fi, dragons, LGBT+, bildungsroman, thrillers, manga, high fantasy, reference books... it's a lot. Variety is the spice of life!
I think understanding why you do or don't like what you're reading is very important to engagement. The last book I remember absolutely hating was something I thought I would enjoy (haunted castle in Japan? Yes please!), but the writing was so verbose and the characters so flat, their actions made no sense in reality and there was a subplot about suicidal depression that seemed to disappear after the first chapter...? It was frustrating to finish, and I've always thought that a bad example can be an excellent teacher.
I was always called a daydreamer as a kid, not paying attention and 'away with the fairies' (which was completely true), but I was always thinking of stories. Even to this day, on the bus to and from work I'm thinking of the next chapters, playing it out twelve different ways before picking the one I like the most to actually write down. The second I don't need to be paying attention to the real world, I'm off with my characters seeing what would happen if things went this way this time...
God, this sounds pretentious. Sorry.
As for characters... what makes a character engaging is very difficult and highly subjective. My personal rule is 'it has to make sense'. For example, using Sun and Moon in the fic I'm currently writing, if I randomly put in that they enjoyed making bread, that would make no sense. They're robots, they can't eat, they hate mess, they don't like any humans enough to make the effort anyway, Sun doesn't have the patience for baking and Moon would just point out that there's sliced bread in the kitchen l already. Could there be another story where them baking bread does make sense? Sure, but the way I've written this one!
And finally, you've kind of hit the nail on the head - I have A LOT of experience in this. The first story I finished writing was 80 pages long, and I was very proud of it, but I was 11 so it was probably pretty bad XD I seem to recall there was a dragon involved? I've been writing ever since, both fanficiton and original stuff. I put it aside for a few years in my early twenties during those horrible years I was trying to be 'normal' (because none of the adults I knew at the time had any hobbies, so I thought it was something I had to grow out of, but that's another story...), and the second I picked it up again my mental health improved so much, I can't even tell you.
While my life-long dream of actually being published may never come true (turns out it's really fucking hard, who knew?), just being able to write makes me incredibly happy. I think wanting to do something really shines through in the end result, and if you're really engaged with what you're writing then the reader will be able to tell.
Plus, y'know... practice, practice, practice.
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i LOVE your nsfw writing. It's mind blowing. How do you do it? can you share some tips? coming from someone who's never had any experience in that department
First off, I am thanking you, cherishing you, offering you freshly baked muffins and the drink of your choice 🥺
And I’ll actually try to get a little more in depth than usual with my process so I’ll put it under the cut! (Spoiler: I am rambling as usual)
Disclaimer that sometimes I just bang shit out lol, especially for characters I feel more “comfortable” with (Mista from JJBA, Ijichi, and ones that are now more solidly “my interpretation” like Fight Night Sukuna). In those cases I just go with my gut first and foremost and have a fairly fleshed out NSFW scene then touch up after.
I also used to maybe write one thing a year, never had outlines, felt like everything needed to be as much of a final product as possible when it hit the page and the biggest thing that helped me with my writing flow is to start where I’m interested. Inspired to write something because of one random image or action in your head? Don’t worry about how to get there just yet. Throw down some points or a random sentence or line of dialogue. Suddenly get inspired for something to happen later? Don’t leave it til later, skip ahead (or back) and put down whatever is in your head! I basically never write a scene from beginning to end. I jump around and flesh it out as I go, then make sure it’s cohesive/flows well once I have something more substantial written.
Remember, no one is seeing that page until you’re good and ready to show it so it doesn’t matter what it looks like, it’s just a little boost to jumpstart things!
(And if you need help getting that boost or sudden inspiration for NSFW and find it’s not coming on your own, what I either do is find people who like that character or maybe are on the same wavelength about them and “thirst” I find talking with others really gets your brain working. That or I just daydream! Daydream and then pull things that work from that to put on the page.)
So, I’ll use the first chapter of Fight Night as a concrete example, because that could be (and was originally) a standalone. I knew I wanted a few things happening in the scene: semi-public sex in a club, a little size difference there with Sukuna’s monster hog, a blow job, and reader riding Sukuna (not all of these things happened in the final product, the flow and opportunities to develop the dynamic changed it as I wrote/edited).
This was a starting point for me actually writing rather than “outlining” (or what could be considered outlining in my process). From there I skipped around. Noting things like “reader tells sukuna to get his cock out,” then going back before the above bit and noting “reader makes out w sukuna in front of others, not so much with going further in front of others” then jumping back later and writing a little of reader adjusting to how big Sukuna is, etc etc.
Sometimes I can piece a whole scene together like this, but anytime I get stuck and am not immediately moved to write another part of the scene, I read through from the beginning. This is where flow comes together for me. I fill in gaps (is there foreplay? What kind of foreplay? Position changes? What kind of mood is there in the sex? Slow and sensual, playful, rough? Are the characters the type to talk during? Moan? Whine? Groan?)
Another thing that helps me flesh out NSFW scenes is thinking of the specific people in these scenarios. I try to make my scenes specific to the characters present, if I feel like you can easily swap out Toji for Gojo or Gojo for Choso etc etc, I don’t personally feel like I’ve done my job. Gege has given us enough to make these characters distinct, the way they fuck will be too.
Basically, I do a lot of thinking (or even writing) that never ends up in the final product. It’s so much easier for me to write NSFW scenes when I feel like I have a grasp on a character or characters. Even if it’s straight porn without plot, I’ve still got the plot in my head - what is the dynamic here?
Do they know each other already? Are they in an established relationship? A budding relationship? A situationship? Etc etc
Have they done whatever is happening in the scene before? Or is it the first time? Is anyone nervous?
Are the characters gentle? If they are, are they gentle because they’re nervous of hurting the other person? Or because they’re nervous since it’s their first time with that person? (Or first time in general - or first time trying something) or are they gentle in a slow, sensual way?
Are they rough? Rough and playful? Rough and mean? Etc etc
These types of questions and considerations add color to the basic actions. From there the questions can branch off again and again to flesh things out.
Going back to fight night as an example: the sex is a little rough, but not because Sukuna doesn’t care about the partner enjoying it (which could be a feature in a different story or dynamic), but because he enjoys rough sex. I try to convey that it’s not out of carelessness via Sukuna considering foreplay and expressly telling reader “I didn’t stretch that cunt open for nothing.”
There’s opportunity to show the dynamic between characters and the personality in these things too. We see banter between them, and a little back and forth (that they both enjoy) in the lead up to the scene, and that can be shown during the scene too - like when reader finally gets their bearings riding Sukuna, but he purposefully throws off their rhythm by thrusting up. It’s playful, a little teasing, there’s so many little actions that can communicate a dynamic like that and make a NSFW scene fun!
In the end I always do one final read through to check for errors and flow, this often leads to adding things here and there, swapping things around, getting rid of things, etc etc, but I read through until I feel like there’s nothing else to add or change (or until I’m sick of looking at it and ready to thrust it into the world lol).
I hope this helped or was at least interesting in some sort of way 💛
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New Releases
A whole slew of books just as the school year is starting. After my bank recovers from Back-to-School shopping, maybe I'll pick up a few of these. Click below to read about all the books coming out this week.
Neverwraith by Shakir Rashaan
Entangled: Teen
Being the new kid is always gonna land you in it.
Yasir Salah isn’t like the other guys in his new suburban Georgia high school. Lately, he can feel something shifting in his body. Raw. Edgy. Volatile . Like his eyes changing colors and heat on his skin when some alpha bro comes for him…or how just a grin from the gorgeous, untouchable girl at school sends vibrations shooting through his entire body.
Only it’s not just being at a new school. It’s a new town. New rules. New flow . And everything feels way smaller than his ex-life in Atlanta. All he can do is what he’s been keep a low profile and try to not be noticed…and keep his anger under control.
But they never warned him.
They never told him what he is.
And they sure as hell didn’t tell him that the world is gonna need him.
All You Have to Do by Autumn Allen
Kokila
In ALL YOU HAVE TO DO, two Black young men attend prestigious schools nearly thirty years apart, and yet both navigate similar forms of insidious racism.
In April 1968, in the wake of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s assassination, Kevin joins a protest that shuts down his Ivy League campus…
In September 1995, amidst controversy over the Million Man March, Gibran challenges the “See No Color” hypocrisy of his prestigious New England prep school…
As the two students, whose lives overlap in powerful ways, risk losing the opportunities their parents worked hard to provide, they move closer to discovering who they want to be instead of accepting as fact who society and family tell them they are.
Sign of the Slayer by Sharina Harris
Entangled: Teen
High school is supposed to be about studying, socializing, and marching-band practice. Not fighting vampires. Then one night flipped my world inside out―now, my life sucks. But it isn’t all bad. I’m at a slayer academy, learning things like the real origin of vamps and how to make serious weapons out of thin air.
Every last one of them will pay for what they did. I’m doing great.
Until I come face-to-face with the actual vampire prince…and I’m not sure of anything anymore. Vampires are supposed to be soul-sucking demons. But Khamari is…something else. He’s intelligent and reasonable―and he seems to know things about me that could change everything.
He’s also hiding something big, even from his own kind. And when a threat from an ancient evil is so extreme that a vampire will team up with a slayer to take it down, it isn’t just my need for revenge that’s at stake anymore.
It’s the whole damn world.
My Father the Panda Killer by Jamie Jo Hoang
Crown Books for Young Readers
San Jose, 1999. Jane knows her Vietnamese dad can’t control his temper. Lost in a stupid daydream, she forgot to pick up her seven-year-old brother, Paul, from school. Inside their home, she hands her dad the stick he hits her with. This is how it’s always been. She deserves this. Not because she forgot to pick up Paul, but because at the end of the summer she’s going to leave him when she goes away to college. As Paul retreats inward, Jane realizes she must explain where their dad’s anger comes from. The problem is, she doesn’t quite understand it herself.
Đà Nẵng, 1975. Phúc (pronounced /fo͞ok/, rhymes with duke) is eleven the first time his mother walks him through a field of mines he’s always been warned never to enter. Guided by cracks of moonlight, Phúc moves past fallen airplanes and battle debris to a refugee boat. But before the sun even has a chance to rise, more than half the people aboard will perish. This is only the beginning of Phúc’s perilous journey across the Pacific, which will be fraught with Thai pirates, an unrelenting ocean, starvation, hallucination, and the unfortunate murder of a panda.
Told in the alternating voices of Jane and Phúc, My Father, The Panda Killer is an unflinching story about war and its impact across multiple generations, and how one American teenager forges a path toward accepting her heritage and herself.
I Feed Her to the Beast and the Beast Is Me by Jamison Shea
Henry Holt and Co.
There will be blood.
Ace of Spades meets House of Hollow in this villain origin story.
Laure Mesny is a perfectionist with an axe to grind. Despite being constantly overlooked in the elite and cutthroat world of the Parisian ballet, she will do anything to prove that a Black girl can take center stage. To level the playing field, Laure ventures deep into the depths of the Catacombs and strikes a deal with a pulsating river of blood.
The primordial power Laure gains promises influence and adoration, everything she’s dreamed of and worked toward. With retribution on her mind, she surpasses her bitter and privileged peers, leaving broken bodies behind her on her climb to stardom.
But even as undeniable as she is, Laure is not the only monster around. And her vicious desires make her a perfect target for slaughter. As she descends into madness and the mystifying underworld beneath her, she is faced with the ultimate continue to break herself for scraps of validation or succumb to the darkness that wants her exactly as she is—monstrous heart and all. That is, if the god-killer doesn’t catch her first.
From debut author Jamison Shea comes I Feed Her to the Beast and the Beast Is Me , a slow-burn horror that lifts a veil on the institutions that profit on exclusion and the toll of giving everything to a world that will never love you back.
The Infinity Particle by Wendy Xu
Quill Tree Books
Clementine Chang moves from Earth to Mars for a new start and is lucky enough to land her dream job with Dr. Marcella Lin, an Artificial Intelligence pioneer. On her first day of work, Clem meets Dr. Lin’s assistant, a humanoid AI named Kye. Clem is no stranger to robots—she built herself a cute moth-shaped companion named SENA. Still, there’s something about Kye that feels almost too human.
When Clem and Kye begin to collaborate, their chemistry sets off sparks. The only downside? Dr. Lin is enraged by Kye’s growing independence and won’t allow him more freedom. Plus, their relationship throws into question everything Clem thought she knew about AI. After all, if Kye is sentient enough to have feelings, shouldn’t he be able to control his own actions? Where is the line between AI and human?
As her past and Kye’s future weigh down on her, Clem becomes determined to help him break free—even if it means risking everything she came to Mars for.
The Lightstruck (The Darkening #2) by Sunya Mara
Clarion Books
Vesper Vale sacrificed everything to save her city from the cursed storm. After becoming a vessel of The Great Queen, Vesper awakes from a slumber three years after her life altering choice.
What she finds isn’t a home freed from the terror of the storm, but one where its citizens are besieged by the even more sinister force of The Great King and his growing army of the lightstruck—once regular citizens who are now controlled by the ominous light encroaching on the city. And the people are all looking to Vesper, now revered as a goddess after her sacrifice, as their city’s only hope.
To save the rings from the Great King, Vesper must contend with the obligations of being a deity to her people and the growing chasm between her and Dalca, the prince she swore never to love. Haunted by the guilt of their past choices and faced with the pressures of a city near ruin, Vesper and Dalca find themselves torn between the growing factions within the city and the royal court.
But in order to save her city from the light, Vesper must face the power most outside of her control—the goddess within.
A Tall Dark Trouble by Vanessa Montalban
Zando
Twin sisters Ofelia and Delfi know better than to get involved with magic. Their Mami has seen to that. After all, it was magic that cursed their family, turning love into a poison. Romance is off the table for the Sanchez women. They’ve seen the curse take hold enough times to know how that road ends. And yet. Sometimes a girl catches feelings and just can’t help herself.
When Ofelia and Delfi begin having premonitions of a series of murders, the sisters know it is time to embrace their magical inheritance to get to the bottom of the mystery and save innocent lives. Teaming up with their best friend Ethan and with brooding detective-in-training Andres, the sisters set out to learn the truth. They just need to make sure Mami doesn’t find out what they’re up to.
Meanwhile, in 1980 Cuba, Anita struggles with a different magical conflict. Her mother, Mama Orti, is a bruja who belongs to a secret coven of elders and Anita knows she will be forced to join the coven herself one day. She sees no escape, though the thought of staying and letting this future claim her is terrifying. Ofelia, Delfi, and Anita’s stories collide as each woman steps into her power and embraces who she truly is, refusing to be subdued by any person, coven, or curse.
In this stunning YA contemporary fantasy, debut author Vanessa Montalban explores the interlocking struggles of three generations of women in one family. An unputdownable debut for anyone who roots for magic, sisterhood, and love.
House of Marionne by J. Elle
Razorbill
17 year-old Quell has lived her entire life on the run. She and her mother have fled from city to city, in order to hide the deadly magic that flows through Quell’s veins.
Until someone discovers her dark secret.
To hide from the assassin hunting her, and keep her mother out of harm’s way, Quell reluctantly inducts into a debutante society of magical social elites called the Order that she never knew existed. If she can pass their three rites of membership, mastering their proper form of magic, she’ll be able to secretly bury her forbidden magic forever.
If caught, she will be killed.
But becoming the perfect debutante is a lot harder than Quell imagined, especially when there’s more than tutoring happening with Jordan, her brooding mentor and— assassin in training.
When Quell uncovers the deadly lengths the Order will go to defend its wealth and power, she’s forced to choose: embrace the dark magic she’s been running from her entire life or risk losing everything, and everyone, she’s grown to love.
Still, she fears the most formidable monster she’ll have to face is the one inside.
Brimming with ballgowns and betrayal, magic and mystery, decadence and darkness, House of Marionne is perfect for readers who crave morally gray characters, irresistible romance, dark academia, and a deeply intoxicating and original world.
Her Radiant Curse by Elizabeth Lim
Knopf Books for Young Readers
One sister must fall for the other to rise.
Channi was not born a monster. But when her own father offers her in sacrifice to the Demon Witch, she is forever changed. Cursed with a serpent’s face, Channi is the exact opposite of her beautiful sister, Vanna—the only person in the village who looks at Channi and doesn’t see a monster. The only person she loves and trusts.
Now seventeen, Vanna is to be married off in a vulgar contest that will enrich the coffers of the village leaders. Only Channi, who’s had to rely on her strength and cunning all these years, can defend her sister against the cruelest of the suitors. But in doing so, she becomes the target of his wrath—launching a grisly battle royale, a quest over land and sea, a romance between sworn enemies, and a choice that will strain Channi’s heart to its breaking point.
Weaving together elements of The Selection and Ember in the Ashes with classic tales like Beauty and the Beast, Helen of Troy, and Asian folklore, Elizabeth Lim is at the absolute top of her game in this thrilling yet heart-wrenching fantasy that explores the dark side of beauty and the deepest bonds of sisterhood.
Never a Hero (Monsters #2) by Vanessa Len
HarperCollins
Despite all of the odds, Joan achieved the impossible. She reset the timeline, saved her family – and destroyed the hero, Nick.
But her success has come at a terrible cost.
She alone remembers what happened. Now, Aaron, her hard-won friend – and maybe more – is an enemy, trying to kill her. And Nick, the boy she loved, is a stranger who doesn’t even know her name. Only Joan remembers that there is a ruthless and dangerous enemy still out there.
When a deadly attack forces Joan back into the monster world as a fugitive, she finds herself on the run with Nick – as Aaron closes in.
As the danger rises – and Nick gets perilously closer to discovering the truth of what Joan did to him – Joan discovers a secret of her own. One that threatens everyone she loves.
Torn between love and family and monstrous choices, Joan must find a way to re-gather her old allies to face down the deadliest of enemies, and to save the timeline itself.
Vanessa Len’s stunning Only a Monster trilogy continues with this second installment, a thrilling journey where a secret past threatens to unravel everyone’s future.
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Hey there,
I'd love to tag you for these questions for writers:
2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?
10. How do you decide what to write?
17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?
22. Who is your favorite character in [Setting Sun] and why?
23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to?
29. What songs would be (or are) on a playlist for [Setting Sun]? Explain your choices if you want!
51. If you write in English as a second language, what do you find easier to write in English, and what is harder than in your first language?
Thanks for writing 'Setting Sun', I love it and I'm so curious how this story will unfold!
Hihi nina! (Can I call you nina?)
2.-
Lolololol here it is!!
Alternate Universe - Modern Setting
Angst
Regency Romance (next one is regency too so putting them both here)
Character Death
Friends to Lovers
lmao makes sense!!
10.-
I have a LOT of ideas!! I just let them stew for a while in my brain until one feels alive enough in my mind! So it starts with "What if" and I only start working on it if it's giving me colors, sounds, and shapes! I need the full color vision!
17.-
So this is a very guilty want of mine because hinata is my third favorite character of Naruto, but I've been looking forever for a naruhina fic set during the pain arc or war arc where Hinata is seriously injured/dies, and Naruto has to process his feelings about it without Hinata having to do any more work. Either that, or I want a re-write of Naruto that handles the romance better and is more queer, please, we want diversity in this HOUSE, not just pair the spares
22.-
So right now my favorite character in Setting Sun is obviously Temari, but my favorite character to write right now is actually Kankurō! I really enjoy writing his dealing with political intrigue and the dichotomy of how he has to act vs how he really feels, and how easy yet tiring it is for him to continously put up the act. I also feel sorry that he's dealing with everything on his own, and he's going on this self sacrificing quest to keep his siblings safe even though they, particularly Gaara, do not understand why he would want to do it, and his (misplaced) guilt about the situation with Gaara, coming to learn about it, and that without meaning to, Kankurō’s been the cause for some of the things that have happened. (Not because of him, but just because he's the first born son)
I just have a lot of feelings about it ok?????????
23.-
I really want to try writing fantasy!! So far I've mainly done Canon and semi or striaght up Modern AU!
29.-
I actually have a playlist I use when writing!!
It has a LOT of songs but hopefully at the end I will have a more refined playlist!
Here are some of my favorite ones from the playlist!
I mean... come on... if this one isn't them I don't know what is!!
Come on... come ON...
51.-
It has actually been probably a decade since I tried to write anything in Spanish besides poetry! The truth is that after nearly 12 years of studying, reading, working and speaking English, my vocabulary in Spanish is very basic, and my grammar has been suffering :( also my original fixation for writing in English is because I purposefully wanted to make my writing inaccessible to my father, who could only say "hi how are you" in English, so it find it hard to write and being vulnerable in Spanish. It all feels like too much you see. In English, I can manage my feelings and expression better
I'm so so happy you're enjoying Setting Sun!!!!!!!!!! I've been working on chapter 8, and I think it's going to be a very big chapter all in all! From now on, it feels like every chapter will be a big one, in terms of plot points, so I'm nervous! If all goes well, Setting Sun will be 15 chapters, and then I'll start working on planning Ultraviolet and Dawn, as well as The Road Back Home!
From this ask game!
#thank you so much for asking!#this was a great way to look at a lot of this stuff!#setting sun au#dayeongi writes#i love getting asks so thank you so much!!💖#shikatema
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Congratulations on 350 followers! For the ask, how about OoT + Formality/Improper?
Hi @aheavenscorner! Thank you!
Your prompt makes up the finale of my OoT Fic: A Map of Memories!
Summary: Time flows, but somethings never change.
Kindly beta read by @zeldaelmo and @zeldadiarist! (I’m so sorry I forgot to tag you guys last time 🥲)
Chapter 1 AO3 | Tumblr, Chapter 2 AO3 | Tumblr
AO3 Link:
A woven tapestry of fate
“I have an idea, Zelda.”
“But-”
He pressed a kiss to her cheek and she stumbled, thoughts derailed. “I have something planned, Princess.”
“I still…”
His hand stroked through her hair, twirling loops into the thick blonde strands. “I didn’t come back unprepared, you know. Just… I just have a few things to organise to complete it.”
She leaned her head on his. “I know. I know.”
Blue eyes as bright as Lake Hylia met her own. “Trust me.”
At that, she had stopped asking him questions and pestering him for what was going on in that head of his.
She blinked, watching the ink drip off the end of the quill, blotting the line she was supposed to be writing on.
Ah. Yes. Work.
Clearly, she wasn’t focussed, and she set the quill down, resting her head on her arms lying flat on the table instead.
It was strange to think it’d been four months since that fateful night of the ball, when he’d walked back into her life as if he’d never left. It had taken a month to crawl through everything that was left unsaid, for him to realise why she’d gone on that trip around Hyrule with him, and why he’d left her at the end of it.
She hadn’t allowed him to leave the castle for all that time, terrified that would be the last she ever saw of him, until Impa took her down to the dungeons and after a sparring session knocked some good sense into her. He wasn’t hers to control, and she was being too demanding.
“You need to trust him, Zelda. If you can’t do that, then there is no point in him being here. You have to learn to let him go.”
And so she had. She replayed that last conservation they had so often, she had it memorised down to the last detail.
Every day, she woke up, and he wasn’t by her door anymore, pressing a cheeky kiss onto her gloved hand.
Every day she walked into the dining room, and he wasn’t there to sneak a pancake off her plate.
Every day she walked into the council’s meeting and he wasn’t by her side, offering a perspective she hadn’t considered, or a well pointed glare and twitch of his sword towards the few original Lords from her father’s government who dared send veiled insults her way.
A month had passed since she’d felt his arms around her, his lips against her cheek, his voice against her ear.
Goddesses, his absence this time round had impacted her so much more than his years away. Maybe it was the fact that he’d left as soon as they started to borderline toe past… friends.
Right! That was enough dilly-dallying. She was a Princess and she had tasks to do today. She couldn’t daydream the whole day away thinking of him.
She pulled out her diary and checked her to-do list.
In 15 minutes there would be a council meeting… which she was supposed to have prepped the notes for in the past hour.
Zelda winced into the paper, rubbing her eyes and pulling her hair back. Okay, not all was lost. She could do this.
*
Zelda quickly shoved the tiara in place on her head, adjusting her hair around it. She applied some lip balm to her chapped and dry lips from all the biting she’d done since Link left, passing a quick hand over the front of her dress flattening out any creases, all while speedily walking towards the door to the meeting room.
She was going to be late!
Why had she drifted away during the most crucial part of her day! She couldn’t even blame her lateness on lunch, it was barely 10 am!
She heaved the oak door open, preparing herself mentally, and instead was met with a familiar silhouette, forest green tunic with white tights, dirty blonde hair cascading out of his hat and those dastardly blue hoops in his ears.
He turned around at the sound of the door, and a smile as wide as her own met her, before he winked.
Cheeky bastard!
When had he arrived?!
“Looking just fine this morning Princess.”
Aha. Yep. She shouldn’t have daydreamed the morning away. Whoops. “Not so bad yourself Hero.”
“Oh you wound me.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her hair.
She hugged him back. “You’ve returned…?”
He squeezed tighter. “Permanently yes. I’ve… finished. I am glad to be back home, Zelda.” And then he laughed. “It seems I am looking better than what you suggested, you haven’t noticed what’s changed yet.”
Hm? “What?”
He pointed to their right, at the wall he’d been staring at before she arrived. Oh. “That… that’s a new tapestry.”
“I’ll give you a… 70% on this assignment.”
Link laughed and Zelda scoffed playfully, punching him in the guts. She stepped closer to the map. It served him right that she ignored him for a moment, she had more important things to do, namely inspecting the new tapestry. She fingered the design, it was a map of Hyrule, each region embroidered with a myriad of feathers, forest green for the Kokiri, aquamarine for the Zora, indigo purple for the Sheikah… hang on. “Link? Why did you…”
Her thoughts trailed as she pressed closer, there was Termina, in the south west, similarly decorated, with slight variations in the colours of the feathers, a fern green for the Deku tribe, icy white for the Gorons. And even beyond Termina, there was Lorule, with magenta feathers, in fact, as Zelda scanned the whole tapestry from top to bottom, all the surrounding countries were represented with their symbolic feathers interlaced into the piece.
She felt his head rest on her shoulder. “Do you like it?”
She turned to face him, and he was startlingly close, closer than he’d ever been. She could see the freckles burnt into his skin from the sun, the sparkle of surprise in his eyes, the sheer length of his lashes – that one wasn’t fair at all! She refused to look any lower down his face should she be tempted to do something very unprincess-like.
“It's beautiful, Link…”
“Do you understand what it means, my princess?”
She forced herself to turn back to the tapestry, trying to figure out why he’d even need feathers from all of the regions of Hyrule… “I- I don’t quite- why did you… to what purpose did you gather all these feathers- I…”
She felt him back away, and she turned to watch him. He knelt to the floor, much like how he’d done at his Knighting Ceremony a month prior, but this time his eyes were fixated on hers, head up and proud. “Marry me, Zelda. Be my companion, my wife, for the rest of time?”
She gasped. And it all clicked into place. “You… you went to get approval from all these regions?! Before asking me?!”
“…I…”, worry clouded his face and she burst out laughing.
“Oh, you silly man. I would have fought for you. I would have married you regardless!”
“So you’re saying yes?”
She sunk to the floor and hugged him tight. “Yes!” Tears formed and she whispered to him, “you’ve made me the happiest I’ve ever been, Link. I can’t imagine anyone else by my side.”
He wrapped his fingers into her hair, his thumb caressing her cheek, soft and full of affection. “I had to do it this way, Zelda.”
“Hm?”
He gestured to the tapestry. “It’s not on you to prove my capabilities to be your husband. I had to do that myself. And I… those four months back together with you… I have never felt more at peace. You’re the only one who understands, and I had to prove to the world I was the only one for you too.”
Goddesses. She didn’t deserve him. “You’ve already proved your worth thrice fold, Link.”
“The world doesn’t know about the first. And only one region knew of the second. I had to make sure everyone knew of the third.”
It made sense, and even if she wished she could have helped him, she could understand why he’d done it this way. “You’ve done so much for me, I’m sorry it’s so difficult to be with-”
He pressed a thumb against her lips. “No. Don’t apologise. You’ve done just as much for me as I have for you. You have no idea how much it meant to me that you’d go to the extent of remembering the… horrors we saved the world from. You rescued me from my mind, Zelda. You gave me worth and meaning.”
She kissed his tears away. “As you did for me.”
“Wait, I’ve done this wrong. I was supposed to —”He fished out a small green box, and popped it open, pulling out a crystalised ring with tiny feather remnants encased in the resin. “May I put the ring on your finger now, my princess?”
Oh he even got the wording right. Zelda could have started to cry all over again. She nodded, and he gently eased the ring onto her finger, before kneeling his forehead on hers. “Goddesses, I am so relieved.”
She punched him. “You are?! Do you know how stressed I was at how long it’d take for you to come back? If you’d come back?”
He laughed, weakly trapping her fists together and pulling her close. “Ah, but I’m here now, Zelda.”
He was too close again, but now, as her fiance, surely she had a right to look a little closer? There was a million things to ask him, to really confirm if he would be happy here, in the castle, with her. Life wouldn’t be smooth sailing. There wouldn’t be many chances of escape. But she pushed those concerns aside for now. They had time to figure it out, she was sure there was a good compromise to be found.
“Link, I believe it’s typical for newly-affianced couples to kiss.”
“Oh?” He smirked, “Really?”
Oh, she’d had enough of his antics, tackling to the wall and pinning him under her legs. “You’re mine now, Hero.”
He leaned back, and pulled her with, startling her with his lips hovering just above hers. “Always.”
#zelink#legend of zelda#ocarina of time#OoT#oot zelink#zelda#link#silent writes#botw#breath of the wild#zelink fanfic#loz
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I love chatting with you too, it's the highlight of my day!
I'm from the south of the UK (not London, thank stars, you could not pay me enough to live in London). What about you? What's your favourite part about your country? (Please don't feel you have to say if you don't want to!)
I naturally tend to a 4am-12 noon sleep schedule, so working nights is a godsend for me, school was hell.
My favourite scene has to be Luke's betrayal scene! The sheer emotion in all of them had me in tears, the betrayal and sorrow and anger! A special shout-out goes to the scene of young-Percy on the roof when he sees the pegasus, I related to that so hard. When classes used to get too much (a mix of tiredness (see the sleep schedule) and undiagnosed autism) I used to climb out the fire escape window onto the roof. I never saw any pegasi, but I did my fair share of daydreaming up there.
My favourite TSC gang has to be the TID gang. I read TID immediately after finishing TMI and I learned those characters by drawing similarities between them and their decendents (Learning Jem became Brother Zachariah broke me) and I just love them to pieces (it is deeply sad to me that Tessa, Jem and Will did not know about polyamory)
My favourite TSC book? Probably Queen of Air and Darkness. My copy has the official artwork in it and I fell in love with it (I don't know if you've seen it, but Ty and Jules on Livvy's pyre? I had to put the book down for an hour to cry)
I hope you don't mind, but I'm gonna infodump about St. Valentines day, because the story behind it is my favourite (even if it is a bit morbid). St Valentine was a priest during the mid 200s, during the reign of Roman emperor Claudius II. Claudius, in true emperor fashion, wanted his armies to be the best. He believed his soldiers would be better if they had no distractions, if they were unmarried. St. Valentine, then still just a priest, used to marry soldiers and their wives in secret, at a time when marrying a soldier (as a priest) was illegal. We celebrate St. Valentines day on the 14th of Febuary because he was executed for his crime on this day in the year 270AD.
Sorry, infodump over.
My turn for a hard question. If you had to give Kit and Ty a theme song each, what would you pick and why?
-☀️
Don‘t tell anyone but it‘s one of my highlights as well 💕
Oh that‘s so cool! Stereotype alert but when I think about the UK I always picture this cute little country side with a cozy cottage. You‘re not a big fan of London, I take it? I was actually in London last Summer and I absolutely adored the city, even though I could never imagine living in a city that big. But I can‘t blame you because I‘m from Austria and I‘m not the biggest fan of Vienna as well. My favourite part about my country would have to be the mountains and lakes!
The Luke betrayal scene was one of my favorites as well! I don‘t know if you‘ve read the books but I loved the fact that Annabeth heard everything! (Also the visuals with the fireworks in the background? Stunning!) Also the hug and the way Percy smiled when Annabeth told him she would go to Disneyland?! (I DIED!) Maybe one day you will see a pegasi (let‘s not give up hope!)
The TMI gang is amazing as well! Tbh I wouldn’t want to choose between the TSC gangs because they are all so different and wholesome in their own way!
SHUT UP! That‘s so amazing! I wish my copy had the original drawings but it seems not everyone can be as cool as you are. My favourite TSC books would have to be Chain of Thorns or Lady Midnight! Queen of Air and Darkness could never be my favourite because that book broke me. I cried so much during the necromancy scene and the aftermath of Livvy‘s death. (And Julian losing his emotions?!?)
WHAT?! WHY DID NOBODY EVER TEACH ME THE HISTORY BEHIND VALENTINE‘S DAY?! I thought it was some cute story with lots of love and flowers. Thank you for ruining my illusion and teaching me something new, I guess😭
THAT‘S SUCH A HARD QUESTION! Like I don‘t really have a particular song for each of them but I have a number of couple songs:
- Say don‘t go (Taylor Swift)
- Into you (Julia Michaels)
- I miss you, I‘m sorry (Gracie Abrams)
- I know it won‘t work (Gracie Abrams)
What about you? (YES YOU ALSO HAVE TO ANSWER THAT QUESTION) And another super hard question for you: Who are your top 3 favourite TSC couples?
(Sorry it took me so long to reply idk why I took me so long to finish this)
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lately i’ve been seeing lots of posts on here saying things like “how to be a better person”, or “how to be a classy woman” and while i think they have the right ideas at heart, they’re just being very obtuse with the words they choose.
to be a better person you don’t have to speak 7 languages, or only eat raw vegan, or even let everyone tell you their problems.
to be classy you don’t have to have perfectly flat, fly-away-free glossy hair.
the people i see saying these things aren’t thinking about actually being better;
to be good isn’t to be perfect, to be classy doesn’t mean you have to be a white woman with straight blonde hair.
what made me a much better person was realizing i wasn’t a good person.
most of the people giving this advice don’t realize it’s not going to change your life, it won’t make you smart or kind to wear the colors that match your skin tone best. though you might look great, that doesn’t solve the pain.
i think you all deserve some advice from someone with mental illness, who isn’t vegan, who isn’t perfectly tidy, or even popular.
ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ
i became a softer, kinder, person when i sat down and saw who i really was, a self centered, mean, sad, bully.
i am fortunate enough to has access to therapy, which absolutely helped me but i did a lot more growth on my own. i’m not gonna say journal, or do shadow work because that meant nothing to me at the time, not to say i don’t journal but whatever, what actually helped me was spending time outside.
i called it “outside time”, original i know, but genuinely everyday for months straight i would go out on the porch in the mornings (i started in winter and through spring - cooler months are best) and i would sit. alone. with nothing but my mind, a piece of paper and a pencil, and the sound of birds and the breeze. it became integral for my day, i had to do it or i didn’t have a good day. these moments were the times i wrote my best poems, or saw myself as who i truly was. i got back into reading and ate through book after book.
spending time outside with nothing but the universe and classical music playing gave me time to ask the universe some questions. i asked her how i got here, what i need to change, why she lead me to this realization, and i got my answer every time.
no, god didn’t come down and speak to me, the stars didn’t write it out, and no one actually said anything. the universe told me through memories, late night conversations with myself, and daydreams of better lives.
i picked up some things through this healing process that i think had a hand in my softening.
baking, cooking in general. though it started as a new year resolution, i learned it’s my love language. sharing my recipes and taking requests, it makes me feel wanted.
i started sleeping better, which was a breakthrough for me. i was prescribed a sleeping medication for chronic insomnia, and it’s helped a lot.
i started spending more time on self care.
now this is what i saw a lot of in the posts i was talking about. i saw lots of, “start a keto diet, start doing face masks, shower twice a week, always go on a run or workout!”
but that’s not what i mean. i started washing my makeup off at night, a revelation for someone with such awful depression at the time. i started brushing my teeth which certainly wasn’t a priority when i was rotting in bed everyday. i learned how to properly care for my curls. i even just left dr.pepper for tea. don’t get me wrong i have a dr.pepper sat next to me right now. i never cut it out i just laid off it.
one of the far more controversial aspects i changed was, not letting everybody dump their trials and tribulations onto me. i have always been very empathetic and therefore seen as a person to talk to about your troubles. and while i tried my best, i don’t have the advice a 50 year old woman in the middle of a divorce is looking for (and i was asked for it). i didn’t just let people tell me what they were going through. it seems cruel but it really helped me let go. i always described my mental health as those statues in dispicable me that slowly get crushed. and most of that came from listening to everyone’s thoughts and also carrying my own.
inevitably i had to stop. i had to let people know i wasn’t the person who could help them, and when i would listen my advice was, “i suggest you talk to someone better equipped for these issues”. i lead a lot of people to school counseling, or even social services at times. but i never forced them to take the steps to get better, because they were never my responsibility.
of course i wanted to help, sometimes i understood more than you could imagine, i never said it, because when someone reached out for help i chose to grab their hand and lead them to the real recuse team. because you and i are not trained therapists, we aren’t cps, we aren’t letting ourselves be crushed.
growing for me meant guiding people to the people who helped me. i wasn’t mentally prepared for someone to share a trauma or a struggle, i had and still have my own to work through.
.
all this is to say; no one grows the same way. maybe for some, reading classic literature changed their mentality in life, but i find books from the 1800s boring; and maybe some people feel classiest in all gold jewelry, maybe i don’t get it.
that’s just not what i think would save me. so, if you’re trying to carry yourself with more kindness, if you want to be the ‘it girl’, if you plan to be your best. before you jump to a new wardrobe or a drastic diet change, try spending time with your head. no stimulation, no music or books or anything. sit and color in a coloring book by an open window. ask the universe how you got here, and wait.
frighting with your head won’t get you where you dream to be, sometimes work has to stop for you to start again.
i really hope that the people who truly do want to change, find the right ways to.
with all my love, i am rooting for you.
love, K
#girlblogging#coquette#dark feminine aesthetic#girl interrupted#female hysteria#femcel#lana del rey#self healing#kindness
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personal
I've been concerned about how I would make ends meet while attending college full-time online for my game development education ever since I left the military. It has affected my motivation to work on a lot of the things I want to complete on my own time and I have had to struggle with what I would consider normal depression.
It's nice to have my wife and I live in our own house in Japan. She has shown me such incredible support, and I am grateful to her for everything she does for me and the life we share.
It's challenging to learn a second language, and I believe that one-on-one instruction would be more effective than reading books alone. I've tried watching TV with her, and it kind of helps, but I've since discovered that it could take up to 9 years to become proficient in speaking Japanese.
I'm also having trouble finding any worthwhile work here. I've thought about creating jewelry or other crafty items, like furniture, now that I have a home in which to do so. But I don't have the right equipment or knowledge.
Finding my life's purpose is extremely challenging because, I swear, everything is begging for your attention. I really wish I could sit down and read a book from beginning to end like some people, but I am constantly distracted by the minute details on a particular page and never manage to finish a book. I do, however, take a lot of notes that, I'm sure, will be useful at some point, but I also understand that perhaps I'm just enjoying the experience of learning something new.
however, consider this. My inability to consistently put what I've learned into practice has seriously hampered my productivity.
I have a lot of admiration for those who describe step-by-step how they would design and produce a fantastic product that would then be bought or used. I enjoy creating illustrations and designs that could be printed on clothing, but I'd also like to create brief videos that provide detailed explanations in the future.
I believe that a lot of my problems from decreased productivity can be fixed with planning. I just prefer to deal with uncertainty, and I really dislike devoting a portion of my day to a task that I know will probably be difficult for me.
I understand that learning the proper questions to ask is a good way to accomplish things, but I feel as though I'm even losing that ability. I find it truly amazing that we have access to so much information thanks to technology, but it also demotivates me when I realize that my issue is not particularly unique, and I end up feeling foolish for having even considered trying to solve it.
As a result, I'm left to struggle while daydreaming of creating something amusing and original while realizing that the process is incredibly challenging to implement. I'm also left to figure out how to realize my ambitious goals on my own.
I want to create something that is heartfelt, educational, fun, and meaningful. I don't know how I managed to spend the last 12 years of my life avoiding this extremely challenging task that I now have to complete. But after all, isn't that the essence of a good independent developer? The hard work and grind required to produce something that few people can claim to be capable of while being a marvel of success?
My family and friends are both very much missed. But I dont wanna burden them with my woes. so whenever I end up meeting someone that has the same interests as I do I often hang on every word in my mind.
I appreciate the time people spend with me, and I make an effort to have meaningful conversations with them—sort of like a parable without the religious overtones.
#devlog #expat #sasebo
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“silenced words & daydreams” Fic Notes
These aren't actually proper fic notes, more like a fic extra about some stuff in 'silenced words & daydreams' as well as the toht edit.
Backstory:
If you don't know, earlier in the summer I had a period where I was laid up and during this time I read a lot of fic, including rereading toht. While I was rereading it, I found that like, every sentence of fic is ingrained in my memory (in the way where I couldn't really quote it but every line just perfectly clicked into place as I read it thanks to my memories), and moreover, I was incredibly fond of it, both for the fic itself and the experience I had writing it/talking with people about it/just enjoying the general Catradora fandom at that point in time.
As I read it I edited some very minor things (like, seriously small, I do this a lot when I reread fics and I'm certain absolutely no one notices, but here's the list as an example), like: typos ("is't", etc), adding contractions when their absence felt awkward (mostly in spoken dialogue), and the occasional removal of an italic (I like italics for emphasis, but I've grown to use them less in my new writing as I learned to better utilize implied emphasis and let people read things in their own cadence, no matter how it "should" be delivered/read in my head. However, as previously said, every sentence in this fic is kind of special to me and removing italics modified the "original flow" of the sentences for me, so this was rare. I actually had a sentence I think I removed one from on a previous reread because it was too close to another italic - like I said, I do these minor changes sometimes - and on this read I went "wait something's wrong there's supposed to be an italic here" and I ended up editing it back in. I don't have proof I edited it out previously but I'm sure I did).
As you might have gathered by now, this fic's verse was deep for me. I mention a lot of stuff from their high school years in the fic and its notes. Usually I have an overview idea of their lives before a fic's story and the development of their dynamic up until that point (along with a few key moments), but for this fic I had quite a few scenes that were from before the start of the fic, and only some of them were actually important. An example of an important one is a scene which at least gets described in toht, where Catra and Adora reunite. I always wanted to write that scene in full even with its inclusion in toht. I also just had a lot of facts and ideas that weren't necessarily scenes yet, but I wanted to convey in a scene, either as an offhand mention like a lot of their time in high school is in toht, or as the entire focus of a scene.
In short, I had a handful of scenes from before their college years I'd thought of dating back to when I was first writing/planning the fic (and maybe getting added to over the years/during occasional rereads, I'm not sure), but I never considered writing them down until recently. I was working on a totally separate project that got me thinking about high school shenanigans, which naturally brought me back to toht as I had recently reread it and it was one of my only fics I seriously thought about the character's actual experience in high school for.
Actual notes (you know, like I normally do):
This isn't broken up into chapters because I don't have that much, this is closer to the "fic notes" post I did at the end of 'catcher'.
The only real thing I "changed" in the toht edit I actually only changed after I started posting sw&d. In my earlier fics, including toht, I had there be a seven months' age difference between Catra and Adora. I've talked about the headcannon this stems from before, but basically I headcannoned Catra as the older one. Later, I discovered their "canon birthdays" (which I think was just a graphic that dreamworks posted on Twitter or something?) and changed Catra to being 3 months older in subsequent fics to fit with it. that caused a problem when it came to a toht prequel, because they were both eighteen by the end of their senior year in high school (legal drinking age is 18 in this verse and they mention they could do it, not to mention catra's summer in clubs). with seven months between them, it was also more likely than not that they would end up in separate grades. I didn't want to do the math to find where exactly I could place their birthdays to circumvent the age-based grade cutoffs (which do have exceptions, but I digress) and also meet the age deadline requirements, so I just went "fuck it" and went with their canon birthdays. i changed the line from "in seven months' time" to "in a few months' time" in toht because it still felt sacrilegious to change it entirely to three months (as I said, I wanted to preserve toht as it was), but when placing the mentions of birthdays in sw&d, i did it based off these canon birthdays. in my heart, its still a seven months age gap and i dont care about the inconsistency, but at least now it isn't directly contradictory.
In sw&d, school isn't really the setting of a lot of scenes, but high school is still a feature of the setting in the same way college is in toht. For sw&d, I only have a few scenes even set in school, but Catra and Adora are facing typical problems for their school age, especially from non-traditional families. All that said, when I went to write this, what I was especially interested in writing about them and their families.
Final toht-related note, is that I made an effort to bring back some formatting from toht. My writing style has changed since then, but there were little things like using parenthesis and following the same capitalization for the fic/chapter titles that I did. I also did chapter summaries in the same style of toht even though I never do them anymore.
Chapter two starts with a scene I've thought about a lot (Adora seeing Catra's scars again for the first time since reuniting, and them being revealed to Glimmer and Bow) and then just naturally filled out with what was needed to complete that and what was implied/discussed in toht. The final scene was supposed to be a short stinger but I just couldn't stop writing.
The interlude wasn't supposed to be a thing, but I realized I had a few scenes I imagined from other perspectives and so, while writing the real chapter 3 (this fic goes: chapter 1, chapter 2, interlude, chapter 3, chapter 4) I went back and inserted some of the interlude. I then worked on the interlude here and there as I worked on the rest of the fic, but because I wanted to leave it open to add content all throughout their high school years if it seemed right, I couldn't post the interlude until I had basically finished the fic in case I wrote anything, thought about it from the families' perspective, and was like "no actually that needs to go in".
The scene with Catra and Scorpia at breakfast in chapter 4 was actually supposed to go: Catra POV for that night, Rose POV for the morning, but I couldn't have the Rose scene in the interlude before what preceded it, and I couldn't just tack an interlude onto the end of the fic and ruin the final ending line I really wanted, so I ended up writing both halves of the scene in one go from Catra's perspective.
The story with Rogelio/the naming of the Fright Zone was basically that it was winter and Rogelio felt like he was getting sick, so he crawled under the radiator to warm up and nap. He slept soundly, for several hours, and Shadow Weaver thought he had run away when she realized he wasn't there and no one had seen him. She started threatening and abusing the kids trying to get one to confess what they saw or where he went (because she was sure he wouldn't have been able to plan and get away without help) and the trauma of the incident led to one of the kids christening the house the Fright Zone because it's a fucking hellscape, and it stuck.
The backpack Adora and Catra have during the scene where they get caught is their emergency bolt bag. Adora had an old backpack that was ratty she had been hauling around which Angella replaced shortly after she moved in with them, so that became their fist bolt bag. Catra already had a bolt bag ready before she even reached Scorpia's home given how often she had to move. They basically just swapped bags when they reunited so if something went wrong at the other's house, they could come to them and be prepared.
In the scene with Catra and Scorpia watching Tangled, Catra started being bratty and watched upside down once Mother Gothel started getting manipulative because she really wasn't comfortable but absolutely wasn't going to admit that a Disney movie could make her uncomfortable (you can have trauma responses to anything, but she couldn't handle "expressing weakness").
Adora got mad in the mentioned scene of Angella being short with her because she didn't view it as fair. It's kind of easy to leave out that Adora has a problem with lashing out when emotional too, mostly because what she does is knock stuff over and kick it when she's frustrated with herself. In this AU, I interpreted it as a "minor anger problem" with when things are unfair, AKA when she fails despite trying her hardest or when she feels someone has set her up for failure, and so it is unfairly imminent.
Because toht was from the very start of me writing AUs, it's also before I came up with things like Winterfest (hence the mention of Christmas) or Catra's full dietary restrictions (hence her eating waffles in the final chapter of toht and fries in sw&d). It felt a bit weird to be writing sw&d without these "constants" that I developed probably not long after this fic, but it was also fun to do something different.
Adora (internally) says "Her heart feels bad" in chapter 3, which normally would be weirdly ambiguous and I would consider awkward writing, but for Adora - especially like, sixteen year old Adora - it was incredibly fitting because that girl doesn't know What is going on in her chest, just that it hurts sometimes when she has certain thoughts. It also came across as kind of juvenile to me which was, again, perfect for this fic.
The scene with Adora being unable to sleep and sneaking Catra in is something that has been brewing since toht, when Catra mentions in chapter one how Adora is stressed, anxious, and overworks herself so Catra is the one that picks her up and helps her relax (slash survive).
Catra getting all tense at the scout appearing was just insecurity and worry that Adora would leave her for a good offer. If she had gotten a great offer, their bond might have been tested, but they have been apart before and absolutely don't want to do it again so Adora wouldn't have accepted it unless they couldn't make college work any other way.
Sometimes one of the characters would say some dumb high schooler shit (Like Adora saying they're "almost adults" because they're almost 18... like absolutely not infantalizing eighteen-year-olds/college freshmen who are managing to live on their own for the first time, but also... no. It's not a magic transformation that takes place at midnight) and it would pain me to write because I know better, but the characters don't, so I would have to include it.
Threading the needle between Catra getting hopeful enough to make a move but staying unsure and insecure enough to believe in the “rejection” coming in toht was an interesting challenge.
There's not a lot of the Adora/Glimmer/Bow dynamic in this because their dynamic in this AU isn't super different from their dynamic in most AUs - or even canon, really - so it wasn't something that had a strong pull on me. The dynamic between the girls and their foster parents, and Catra and Adora with each other, and catra and scorpia as sisters, were all more engaging to me. If this was a full AU on its own, I would have rounded things out more to craft a better story, but this was a side indulgence so I just wrote whatever interested me.
And that's all I have to say, although there is some more scattered meta in the tag. I've added sw&d onto the end of toht's entry on my fic meta page if you're looking for it.
#sw&d#ficmeta#fic notes#i was supposed to post this yesterday but i was busy sitting on the porch and staring at the trees
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