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mostlysignssomeportents · 8 months ago

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Even if you think AI search could be good, it won’t be good

TONIGHT (May 15), I'm in NORTH HOLLYWOOD for a screening of STEPHANIE KELTON'S FINDING THE MONEY; FRIDAY (May 17), I'm at the INTERNET ARCHIVE in SAN FRANCISCO to keynote the 10th anniversary of the AUTHORS ALLIANCE.

The big news in search this week is that Google is continuing its transition to "AI search" – instead of typing in search terms and getting links to websites, you'll ask Google a question and an AI will compose an answer based on things it finds on the web:

https://blog.google/products/search/generative-ai-google-search-may-2024/

Google bills this as "let Google do the googling for you." Rather than searching the web yourself, you'll delegate this task to Google. Hidden in this pitch is a tacit admission that Google is no longer a convenient or reliable way to retrieve information, drowning as it is in AI-generated spam, poorly labeled ads, and SEO garbage:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/03/keyword-swarming/#site-reputation-abuse

Googling used to be easy: type in a query, get back a screen of highly relevant results. Today, clicking the top links will take you to sites that paid for placement at the top of the screen (rather than the sites that best match your query). Clicking further down will get you scams, AI slop, or bulk-produced SEO nonsense.

AI-powered search promises to fix this, not by making Google search results better, but by having a bot sort through the search results and discard the nonsense that Google will continue to serve up, and summarize the high quality results.

Now, there are plenty of obvious objections to this plan. For starters, why wouldn't Google just make its search results better? Rather than building a LLM for the sole purpose of sorting through the garbage Google is either paid or tricked into serving up, why not just stop serving up garbage? We know that's possible, because other search engines serve really good results by paying for access to Google's back-end and then filtering the results:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

Another obvious objection: why would anyone write the web if the only purpose for doing so is to feed a bot that will summarize what you've written without sending anyone to your webpage? Whether you're a commercial publisher hoping to make money from advertising or subscriptions, or – like me – an open access publisher hoping to change people's minds, why would you invite Google to summarize your work without ever showing it to internet users? Nevermind how unfair that is, think about how implausible it is: if this is the way Google will work in the future, why wouldn't every publisher just block Google's crawler?

A third obvious objection: AI is bad. Not morally bad (though maybe morally bad, too!), but technically bad. It "hallucinates" nonsense answers, including dangerous nonsense. It's a supremely confident liar that can get you killed:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2023/sep/01/mushroom-pickers-urged-to-avoid-foraging-books-on-amazon-that-appear-to-be-written-by-ai

The promises of AI are grossly oversold, including the promises Google makes, like its claim that its AI had discovered millions of useful new materials. In reality, the number of useful new materials Deepmind had discovered was zero:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/23/maximal-plausibility/#reverse-centaurs

This is true of all of AI's most impressive demos. Often, "AI" turns out to be low-waged human workers in a distant call-center pretending to be robots:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/31/neural-interface-beta-tester/#tailfins

Sometimes, the AI robot dancing on stage turns out to literally be just a person in a robot suit pretending to be a robot:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

The AI video demos that represent "an existential threat to Hollywood filmmaking" turn out to be so cumbersome as to be practically useless (and vastly inferior to existing production techniques):

https://www.wheresyoured.at/expectations-versus-reality/

But let's take Google at its word. Let's stipulate that:

a) It can't fix search, only add a slop-filtering AI layer on top of it; and

b) The rest of the world will continue to let Google index its pages even if they derive no benefit from doing so; and

c) Google will shortly fix its AI, and all the lies about AI capabilities will be revealed to be premature truths that are finally realized.

AI search is still a bad idea. Because beyond all the obvious reasons that AI search is a terrible idea, there's a subtle – and incurable – defect in this plan: AI search – even excellent AI search – makes it far too easy for Google to cheat us, and Google can't stop cheating us.

Remember: enshittification isn't the result of worse people running tech companies today than in the years when tech services were good and useful. Rather, enshittification is rooted in the collapse of constraints that used to prevent those same people from making their services worse in service to increasing their profit margins:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/26/glitchbread/#electronic-shelf-tags

These companies always had the capacity to siphon value away from business customers (like publishers) and end-users (like searchers). That comes with the territory: digital businesses can alter their "business logic" from instant to instant, and for each user, allowing them to change payouts, prices and ranking. I call this "twiddling": turning the knobs on the system's back-end to make sure the house always wins:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

What changed wasn't the character of the leaders of these businesses, nor their capacity to cheat us. What changed was the consequences for cheating. When the tech companies merged to monopoly, they ceased to fear losing your business to a competitor.

Google's 90% search market share was attained by bribing everyone who operates a service or platform where you might encounter a search box to connect that box to Google. Spending tens of billions of dollars every year to make sure no one ever encounters a non-Google search is a cheaper way to retain your business than making sure Google is the very best search engine:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Competition was once a threat to Google; for years, its mantra was "competition is a click away." Today, competition is all but nonexistent.

Then the surveillance business consolidated into a small number of firms. Two companies dominate the commercial surveillance industry: Google and Meta, and they collude to rig the market:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jedi_Blue

That consolidation inevitably leads to regulatory capture: shorn of competitive pressure, the companies that dominate the sector can converge on a single message to policymakers and use their monopoly profits to turn that message into policy:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/05/regulatory-capture/

This is why Google doesn't have to worry about privacy laws. They've successfully prevented the passage of a US federal consumer privacy law. The last time the US passed a federal consumer privacy law was in 1988. It's a law that bans video store clerks from telling the newspapers which VHS cassettes you rented:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Video_Privacy_Protection_Act

In Europe, Google's vast profits lets it fly an Irish flag of convenience, thus taking advantage of Ireland's tolerance for tax evasion and violations of European privacy law:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/15/finnegans-snooze/#dirty-old-town

Google doesn't fear competition, it doesn't fear regulation, and it also doesn't fear rival technologies. Google and its fellow Big Tech cartel members have expanded IP law to allow it to prevent third parties from reverse-engineer, hacking, or scraping its services. Google doesn't have to worry about ad-blocking, tracker blocking, or scrapers that filter out Google's lucrative, low-quality results:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

Google doesn't fear competition, it doesn't fear regulation, it doesn't fear rival technology and it doesn't fear its workers. Google's workforce once enjoyed enormous sway over the company's direction, thanks to their scarcity and market power. But Google has outgrown its dependence on its workers, and lays them off in vast numbers, even as it increases its profits and pisses away tens of billions on stock buybacks:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/25/moral-injury/#enshittification

Google is fearless. It doesn't fear losing your business, or being punished by regulators, or being mired in guerrilla warfare with rival engineers. It certainly doesn't fear its workers.

Making search worse is good for Google. Reducing search quality increases the number of queries, and thus ads, that each user must make to find their answers:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

If Google can make things worse for searchers without losing their business, it can make more money for itself. Without the discipline of markets, regulators, tech or workers, it has no impediment to transferring value from searchers and publishers to itself.

Which brings me back to AI search. When Google substitutes its own summaries for links to pages, it creates innumerable opportunities to charge publishers for preferential placement in those summaries.

This is true of any algorithmic feed: while such feeds are important – even vital – for making sense of huge amounts of information, they can also be used to play a high-speed shell-game that makes suckers out of the rest of us:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/11/for-you/#the-algorithm-tm

When you trust someone to summarize the truth for you, you become terribly vulnerable to their self-serving lies. In an ideal world, these intermediaries would be "fiduciaries," with a solemn (and legally binding) duty to put your interests ahead of their own:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/07/treacherous-computing/#rewilding-the-internet

But Google is clear that its first duty is to its shareholders: not to publishers, not to searchers, not to "partners" or employees.

AI search makes cheating so easy, and Google cheats so much. Indeed, the defects in AI give Google a readymade excuse for any apparent self-dealing: "we didn't tell you a lie because someone paid us to (for example, to recommend a product, or a hotel room, or a political point of view). Sure, they did pay us, but that was just an AI 'hallucination.'"

The existence of well-known AI hallucinations creates a zone of plausible deniability for even more enshittification of Google search. As Madeleine Clare Elish writes, AI serves as a "moral crumple zone":

https://estsjournal.org/index.php/ests/article/view/260

That's why, even if you're willing to believe that Google could make a great AI-based search, we can nevertheless be certain that they won't.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/15/they-trust-me-dumb-fucks/#ai-search

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

djhughman https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Modular_synthesizer_-_%22Control_Voltage%22_electronic_music_shop_in_Portland_OR_-_School_Photos_PCC_%282015-05-23_12.43.01_by_djhughman%29.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #twiddling #ai #ai search #enshittification #discipline #google #search #monopolies #moral crumple zones #plausible deniability #algorithmic feeds

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obsessedwhyyes · 4 months ago

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Chasing Lightning

Summary: You've spent all day teasing, tempting, taunting - you've really tested Astarion's patience this time. But pushing his boundaries is your favourite past time. Now, here you are, over his knee, about to receive the punishment you longed for, all according to your devious plan. Not that you'd ever admit it, of course.

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2003 Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader Content: Shameless smut, bratty reader, Dom!Astarion, spanking, light BDSM elements, rough sex, PiV.

Gif by silverformymonsters on Tumblr!

A/N: This, uh... Yeah, no, this is just shameless smut. I am so sorry. Behold, my spanking fic, written in a moment of madness.

You lay over his knee, eager, anticipating - a willing sacrifice on the altar of his desires. Each trail of his fingertips across the bare skin of your backside is a promise of what is to come.

You deserve this, you think to yourself. All your teasing, all your temptations. The way you pressed yourself against him when no one was looking, your face a pretty picture of faux innocence; the way you swayed your hips as you sauntered ahead of him, glancing back to meet his eyes, knowing they would be heavy with that predatorial hunger which ignites the flames of arousal deep in your belly. All part of your plan, which he is more than willing to oblige.

You hear Astarion’s voice, dark and dripping with honey.

“I propose a game, darling. A test of your intuition, shall we say?” You hear the wicked smile in his voice and it sends shivers of sweet anticipation coursing through your body. “I'll think of a number, one through ten, and you'll have to guess it based on how hard I spank you. Guess wrong, and I'll spank you again - the same strength - until you guess correctly. Understand?”

“Yes,” you breathe, wilfully yielding to him . There’s an intoxicating power in surrender. Your submission is a choice, freely given, and that makes it all the more potent.

In yielding, you become more. More alive, more aware, more you than you've ever been. The world narrows to the point of contact where his hand meets your skin. You are the ocean, and Astarion the moon, pulling you into new shapes with the inexorable force of the tide.

“Very good,” he purrs. His thumb rubs the gentlest of circles on your wrists as he binds them behind you with his spare hand. “Of course, if it becomes too much, just say the word. I can be merciful… on occasion.”

The game begins, a dance of unseen touches and breathless anticipations. Astarion’s hand hovers above you, its presence like the charge before a lightning strike.

“Let’s start with a simple one, shall we?”

His touch against your bare arse is a whisper at first, cool fingertips ghosting across your skin. More caress than slap. You shiver, every nerve alight with anticipation.

“One,” you murmur, more exhale than voice.

Astarion’s chuckle vibrates through you, a low rumble that you feel more than hear as you bury your face into the fabric of his shirt. “Oh, my dear. We’re barely getting started.”

The next strike lands with purpose - a sharp, precise sensation that blooms across your skin. It’s not quite pain, not quite pleasure, but something exquisitely in between that draws a gasp from your lips.

“Four?” you venture.

“Warm, but not quite.”

He strikes - the same strength once more, as promised.

“Three!” you gasp, revelation and pleasure mingling in your voice.

“Good girl,” Astarion praises and gods, how those words affect you. They sink into your skin, sweeter than honey, headier than wine. You crave his approval like air, each word of praise stoking the flames of your arousal higher.

The dance continues, each strike a new verse in this poem written on your skin.

Smack.

Five is a starburst of sensation. You feel this once, twice, three times until you finally guess correctly.

Smack.

Seven lands with the force of a thunderclap, reverberating through your body and leaving you trembling in its wake.

Smack.

Nine leaves you gasping, teetering on the knife-edge between pleasure and pain. The sting melts into a deep, throbbing warmth that pulses in time with your racing heart.

With each strike, each caress, the heat builds, a delicious tension coiling tighter in your core.

Four. Two. Six. Six again. Eight.

You find yourself arching slightly into his touch, eager for more, your body's reactions beyond your control.

Then, finally, comes ten.

It cracks across your flesh like lightning splitting the night sky, a white-hot streak of sensation that sears itself into your very soul. For a moment, the world whites out, every nerve ending alight with electric sensation. You cry out as the sensations overwhelm you, the number torn from your lips. The pain is exquisite, pushing you to the very limits of your endurance.

In the aftermath, you float in a sea of endorphins, your body humming with the echoes of Astarion's touch. Each point of contact throbs in time with your racing heart, a map of exquisite sensation etched onto your inflamed skin.

His cool hand soothes over the heated skin. The contrast sends fresh shivers through you, and you moan gently in response, despite yourself. Your skin is hypersensitive, your mind a mess of exhilaration and desire, eager for more, more, more.

Through the haze of lust, Astarion's voice chimes clear. “My, my. Such enthusiasm,” he purrs. “Tell me, darling, did you spend all day dreaming of this? Because I certainly did… in excruciating detail.”

You turn on his lap to look up into his eyes, suppressing a smile. “Who, me? I would never!”

Astarion's eyebrow arches, smirking at your obvious lie. “Is that so? So the way you rubbed yourself against me all morning like a worg in heat was just a coincidence, was it?”

You can't help but giggle at his accusation, which only seems to fuel his amusement.

“Do you have any idea how long you left me aching today?”

“I'm sorry,” you pout.

“Sorry who?”

“I’m sorry, Astarion.”

You don't mean it. And he knows it.

You could be good - a sweet, obedient little thing. But to be bad - to challenge him, to tease him, to test his patience until he finally brings you to heel - why, that's just so much more fun.

“That’s better,” he coos, his voice and his praise caressing you like silk along your skin as he gazes back at you, expression equal parts warmth and something much darker - hungrier - beneath. “Cheeky little pup."

He pauses, and the air becomes heavy with anticipation.

“But I'm not done with you yet.”

He rises and shifts you in a blur of motion, bending you over the edge of the bed, leaving your face buried in the soft sheets. Suddenly, you're exposed to him, your arousal on full display, and you feel the air against your hypersensitive flesh. Yet, in this moment, there is no place you would rather be than at his mercy. You are eager, dripping with expectation.

In the midst of your lustful haze, you hear the rustling of clothes - the familiar sound of his trousers unlaced. It sends your imagination soaring. Your core aches with what is to come.

But Astarion, the cruel man he is, doesn't enter you. Not yet.

Instead, you feel the head of his cock slide maddeningly, agonisingly slowly up the slit of you. You feel him become slick with your arousal as he slides down, and back up your slit once more, just barely skimming your clit, which throbs desperately with need. Such delicate, teasing touches - enough to drive you to madness.

“Do you want it?” He purrs.

“Mmhm,” you mumble pathetically into the fabric.

“Tell me, love.”

“I want–”

He inserts himself before you finish, colliding with you with the force of planets, stealing the breath from your lungs. The union is electric, a completion so intense that it borders on painful.

His desperation is evident, at odds with the image of restraint he was attempting to conjure as he ruts into you with wild abandon. His hands are everywhere at once, desperate and searching. Your own fingers claw at the fabric of the bedsheets, mindlessly, drunk on the sensation of him.

Astarion’s hands soon settle on your hips, pulling you to him as you collide again, again, again. You aid him, pushing yourself against his hips with each thrust, needing to be closer, always closer. You move together in a frenzy, chasing that elusive peak with single-minded determination. The world beyond ceases to exist; there is only this moment, this need, this all-consuming desire.

Breaths come in ragged gasps and are punctuated by moans and whispered pleas. “More,” you beg; “please,” you exclaim, though you're not sure how he could possibly get any closer, any deeper within you.

You feel his hand slide beneath you, and you lift your hips to greet him. Your throbbing clit welcomes his expert touch as he begins to unravel you as easily as he picks locks. He rubs circles around the bud, gently, in stark contrast to his wild rutting - indicative of the tiniest threads of self-restraint which remain within him, spared only to bring you to your peak. But gods, in the heat of the moment, you are especially sensitive, and his touch quickly brings forth rippling waves of sensation which threaten to overwhelm you. Your body twitches of its own accord and you know your climax fast approaches.

Your own voice surprises you, high and desperate. Soft whimpers escape your lips, growing in intensity and frequency as the tension builds.

Behind you, Astarion's sounds are a primal counterpoint to your own. His usual smooth tones are roughened by desire, a gravelly undertone that sends shivers down your spine. Low growls rumble from his chest - they speak of a hunger barely contained.

As you both near the edge, your voices mingle and intertwine. The sounds blur together - gasps and moans, growls and whimpers. The volume rises, unchecked and unashamed. You care not who hears you now.

It is you who first reaches the point of no return. A cry escapes your lips, raw and primal. Your body quakes, and pleasure crashes over you, a torrent of sensation that drenches every nerve ending. You're swept away in the deluge, currents of bliss pulling you under, spinning you in their depths.

His release soon follows and, although you don't see him, you feel the intensity in the air, in his increasingly erratic pounding, in his breaths. A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, vibrating through your bodies like rolling thunder. His grip on you tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as he releases into you, claiming you as part of his tempest.

He collapses against your back. His weight is solid and grounding like the calm after the storm. He pants slightly, aftershocks rippling through you both like distant thunder.

Slowly, the world comes back into focus.

Astarion's weight shifts behind you as his arm drapes lazily over your wrist. You feel his cool lips brush against your ear, and he nips it gently.

“If I didn’t know any better,” he muses, “I would say you enjoy being punished.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound still slightly breathless. “If that’s what I get for misbehaving, I might have to do it more often.”

"Careful what you wish for, darling," he murmurs, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. "I have a whole arsenal of 'punishments' at my disposal. This was merely a taste."

“Is that a promise or a threat?”

“Why not both?” he replies, his tone rich with suggestion. “I do so enjoy keeping you on your toes.”

As he rises to his feet and helps you to yours, he kisses you, his gentleness a stark contrast from your earlier activities. Where there was an inferno, now there is now the warming comfort of the hearth. Where there was urgency, now there is patience. Eventually, you find yourselves settled once more, cocooned in the soft comfort of the bed. The lingering scent of your encounter mingles with the fresh smell of clean linens, a heady reminder of the night's activities.

“Alright?” Astarion’s voice is soft.

You nod, words unnecessary in this moment.

As you nestle closer to him, a contented sigh escapes your lips. Being bad certainly has its thrills. But these moments, wrapped in Astarion’s arms - these are treasures in their own right. The mischievous spark in you knows you'll seek out more opportunities to 'misbehave', but for now, you revel in this gentle aftermath, every bit as intoxicating as the storm that preceded it.

No Pressure Tags: @silverfangmarks @roguishcat @sparrowbard @chonkercatto

Masterlist can be found here.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion smut #shameless smut #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction

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xpeachy-keenx · 1 month ago

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"a quiet unraveling" — h. star rail

PAIRING dan heng x fem!reader

TAGS masturbation. phone sex. voice kink.

Dan Heng awoke to the hum of the Astral Express, its rhythmic vibrations easing him into wakefulness. A faint beep of the data bank confirmed the files he'd uploaded overnight were complete, though he felt no hurry to leave his futon. Early morning suited him—a rare pocket of solitude before the day's obligations began.

Moments like these were precious. Here, he was able to distance himself from the fragmented nightmares lingering in the recesses of his mind. In this fleeting stillness, he almost believed he was simply a Nameless, adrift among the stars. Yet, as the Express hurtled through space, the next warp navigation meeting was still days away; a familiar weight of unresolved matters pressed on him. Adopting the name "Dan Heng" was supposed to be a fresh start; a chance to leave everything behind. Yet echoes of his former self clung to him, heavy and unshakable.

For now, though, the past could remain where it belonged.

Today was about the present.

He began his morning ritual, methodically checking the data bank to ensure he had uploaded everything and hadn't missed anything crucial. This could stretch on for hours if left undisturbed, though he knew March 7th or Pom-Pom would likely interrupt, as they always did. Absorbed in his work, Dan Heng took notes on streamlining the archives, refining the system with quiet efficiency. A knock at the door brought him back to reality.

He glanced at his phone.

10:58 AM.

The next part of his day would begin soon. Beyond the archives, the others would likely be gathered in the passenger car, their light chatter filling the space. Breakfast would be over now, and the Trailblazer would bring his energy and liveliness to the entire train. Dan Heng preferred to sit on the periphery of these instances, close enough to bask in the companionship but distant enough to maintain his peace. Watching the stars stream past in their endless darkness brought him a comfort he couldn't quite explain, a tranquility rivaled only by losing himself in a good book.

After being on his feet for hours, he stretched until his joints gave soft, satisfying pops, then crossed the room to unlock the door. He expected March, Pom-Pom, or perhaps Caelus. Instead, standing there, smiling as if you'd been expecting him, was you.

You were the crew's newest addition, having joined after the Express intervened in the Stellaron crisis on Jarilo-IV. Dan Heng had first encountered you at the Fight Club—a dim, smoky venue filled with the roar of a crowd hungry for spectacle. As an on-site medic, you navigated the chaos with purpose. Your hands moved with precision, tending to the injured with a practiced grace that made you seem unflappable.

"There's no stopping people from having their fun," you'd said, shrugging as you gave him a wry smile. "So, the least I can do is keep them out of Nat's clinic."

Your words hinted at something deeper beneath the calm exterior—a sadness Dan Heng recognized, a reflection of the Underworld's hardships. Perhaps it was how you coped by focusing on others' needs. He didn't pry. Just as he turned to leave, you stopped him.

"Hey, are you doing okay?"

The question caught him off guard. Had something slipped through his composure? His nights had been restless, plagued by nightmares he'd rather forget. And yet, your eyes held an awareness, a depth that searched beyond the surface.

"I'm fine," he replied curtly.

You tapped your chin, studying him. Then, with a faint smirk, you said, "But you're set on becoming the champion."

He crossed his arms, meeting your gaze with a quiet resolve. "I have my reasons."

After a brief pause, he added, "It's practical."

You seemed to get the message, but your eyes lingered on him for a short time before you focused on the octagonal fighting ring.

"Just be careful with Sampo."

His thoughts had already moved on to the fight, but your warning stayed with him. There was something about you—your demeanor, the way you seemed to notice things others didn't—that unnerved him in a way he couldn't articulate. And as he stepped into the ring, your gaze lingered on him, carrying an intensity that seemed to trail after him, unspoken but persistent.

"Good morning, Dan Heng!" you greeted, a little breathless as you stood before him. "I hope I'm not interrupting. I'm almost done with the health check-ins, and you're the last one on my list." You hesitated for a second, then said, "I noticed you weren't at breakfast earlier."

He regarded you with polite neutrality. "Good morning. I didn't realize you were checking in with everyone. As for breakfast, I wasn't particularly hungry."

Smiling, you shifted your weight, a serene confidence in your stance. "I find it's helpful to check in with everyone one-by-one, especially while I'm still settling in."

"And how have your check-ins been going so far?"

"Pom-Pom's obsessed with everyone's diet and sleep routines," you said with a light chuckle. "I reassured them everything's fine, though I'm not sure they appreciated me asking if I could study them."

Dan Heng raised an eyebrow, subdued amusement in his expression. As you realized you were standing in his way, you stepped aside, mumbling an apology. He waved it off.

Falling into step beside him, you continued with, "Himeko was gracious and even offered me coffee, though I think she was testing my nerves. Is her coffee always that, uh …"

"It's less of a drink," he said dryly, "and more of a rite of passage."

Your laughter rang out, a genuine sound of surprise that caught even you off guard. The two of you made your way toward the dining car, your footsteps dampened by the carpeted floors. A warmth enveloped the train, the kind of comfort that seemed to invite ease without asking.

"Mr. Yang is as insightful as he is kind. I ended up listening more than talking. March kept things lively, as expected. We covered about a dozen topics in just a few minutes, mostly about her latest photos of everyone on the Express. And Caelus? Perceptive and straightforward, which is refreshing."

Dan Heng nodded, his gaze fixed ahead. "Sounds like you've gotten to know everyone fairly well, given it's only been a few days."

"I hope so. I'd like to be useful here."

Polished silver gleamed under the dining car's lights, crisp white tablecloths stretched taut over a long line of tables, and Pom-Pom had meticulously arranged delicate porcelain plates. Their attention to detail was obvious in every corner of the space, adding a homely elegance to the otherwise mechanical vastness of the Express.

"It's important to me that everyone knows I'm here to help," you said, glancing his way. "Even if it's just with a quick check-in."

Dan Heng stood at the kitchen's entrance, turning to you with a slight arch of his brow. "You're rather committed to this," he said, his words detached but carrying an undertone of curiosity.

"Just making sure I do a thorough job."

He hummed in acknowledgement, moving to the cabinets and retrieving items with deliberate motions. Tea leaves, honey, and a few other ingredients appeared on the counter in a neat array.

"Is this persistence part of the medic's protocol," he asked as he worked, "or is it more of a personal strategy?"

"A little of both, I think."

There was a playful lilt in your voice, and though his back was towards you, he sensed you were smiling.

"You seem to know how to keep your distance when you want to, so I thought I'd make it a bit harder for you to slip away."

He glanced at you then, a flicker of challenge sparking in his eyes. "Most people take the hint."

You were undeterred as you sized him up. "Well, I guess that makes me a little different. In the Underworld, part of my role was making sure no one was forgotten, even if they wanted to be left alone."

An underlying sense of homesickness colored your words. Dan Heng's expression softened almost imperceptibly, his hands pausing in their task. After a beat, he exhaled, a sound that was both resignation and subtle acceptance.

"Fine."

***

You sit across from him in the dining car, the space quiet except for the hum of the train and the faint click of utensils against a plate. The vastness of space outside the windows felt almost endless, a shimmering sea of stars, with Jarilo-IV a distant spark in the cosmic expanse. The sight is breathtaking, but you can't help but focus on him—Dan Heng, in his usual composed manner.

He's eating in peace, and you respect that. The stillness suited him, as if he's able to exist fully in it. But the notebook he's been writing in draws your attention. You've seen him do this every morning before breakfast—writing a page, his concentration absolute. You ask about it, your voice casual, though there's a curiosity with your words.

"It helps me prioritize what I should focus on in the archives for the day."

His voice is low, even, and the way he said it led you to consider there was more behind the habit than mere organization. A coping mechanism, perhaps. You wanted to know more, but returned your focus to the window, not wanting to force him to talk. Life aboard the Astral Express was surreal. You arrived a few days ago, and the faces of Himeko, Welt, and Pom-Pom seemed like distant memories of a dream until you looked around and realized the reality of your situation.

The warp jump had been an experience in itself, one that left you nauseated, a reminder of how little you knew about this new world. And yet, despite the disorientation, you found a rhythm here. Dan Heng, though, remained a mystery. March complained about his aloofness, but didn't share that judgment. You've never felt slighted by him. There's something about his presence, stoic as it is, that makes you assume he's waiting for the right time to open up.

"It's hard to believe this is something you all get to see every day," you say before you realize it, your words hushed, almost absent. You've been staring at the stars for a while, but now you're aware of him watching you. His gaze follows yours, but he remains silent, as if lost in his own mind.

"Growing up," you continued, letting your fingertip trace patterns in the tablecloth, "if it weren't for Natasha and Oleg, I might not have even believed the sky was real. They described it perfectly, though I never expected it to be like this."

You fall quiet, your eyes drifting down to the table. It's a minor revelation, but you don't mind sharing it. Not with him. He's someone whose reserved nature invites secrets.

Dan Heng's voice broke the silence.

"Why'd you leave home? You seem like you miss everyone."

You make eye contact with him, the question settling over you. You rest your elbows on the table, more casual than you'd normally be in such a setting—Pom-Pom would definitely scold you for that. Still, you don't pull back.

"Of course, I miss them. But all I've ever known was the Underworld. Being there was like existing in the shadows of Natasha and Seele. As much as I love them, I needed to figure out who I could be on my own."

You paused, a faint smile touching your lips.

"We still keep in touch when we can, though. It helps, knowing they're a message away."

His expression relaxed, enough for you to recognize that your words reached him. "That's very insightful."

Your smile widened as you changed the topic. "So, what about you? Nothing too personal, I promise. Just—how's your sleep? Your diet? Your stress levels?"

He hesitates, lips parted, like he's weighing his answer. You waited, letting the silence stretch between you, but you didn't push. You know what it's like to be asked questions you don't want to answer. And there's something in the way he's looking at you now, as if he knows that you're not asking out of casual curiosity.

"I'm getting by."

You noticed the way his eyes held yours with a subtle intensity. It's almost as if he's hiding something. You tempered the moment with a gentle smile, closing your eyes briefly before looking away.

"It's not the most reassuring answer," you say with a chuckle, "but I'll take it."

You leaned back, hoping to put him at ease. "Just so you know, I'm here as a friend first. I might have medical training, but you don't have to treat me like I'm a professional. I thought knowing a little might help me understand how to support you should you ever need it."

Your words hung in the air for an instant, and you wondered if he'd say anything in response. Instead, his gaze held steady, contemplative but unreadable, leaving you unsure if he appreciated your sentiment or simply tolerated it.

You checked the time on your phone, feeling a pang of regret. "Actually, Pom-Pom is helping me set up the medbay today, so I should probably get going. Sorry if I'm cutting this short."

You stood, tucking your chair back under the table, though your attention lingered on him for a moment longer.

"Oh—one last thing."

You hesitated, hoping the question wouldn't seem too intrusive. "Would it be alright if I visited the archive room sometime? There might be some information in the data bank that could be useful for me."

His expression didn't change as he gave a small shake of his head. "No, I don't mind."

"Great. Thanks, Dan Heng."

You smiled again, warm but not overbearing, then turned to leave.

"I'll see you later."

***

There had been a change to his routine.

It was subtle at first, slipping by unnoticed until it was too late to ignore. Another two days had passed since you'd asked to visit the archives, and you followed through on that request, stopping by during the late hours when the two of you were often the only ones awake.

On a night when a brutal nightmare robbed him of sleep, Dan Heng discovered your shared insomnia. He'd woken in a cold sweat, the remnants of the dream clinging to him, and knew then that sleep would not return.

The dimly lit cars of the Express greeted him as he exited the archives, their quietness broken only by the train's droning. He moved through the corridors, intending to brew tea in the kitchen to keep himself occupied. But as he passed the medbay, he noticed light spilling from beneath the door, followed by the faint sounds of shuffling papers and rustling fabric—sounds magnified in the stillness. Dan Heng hadn't intended to stop. Yet, as he retraced his steps, tea in hand, a frustrated groan caught his attention.

"Ugh, no, that's not right."

Curiosity tugged at him, and before he could think better of it, he stepped closer. The door slid open just as you were about to leave, bleary-eyed, dark circles visible under your eyes.

"Oh, Dan Heng," you said, blinking in surprise, "you shouldn't be up this late. Or early."

"I could say the same for you," he replied, glancing at the room's interior.

Textbooks, notebooks, and loose pages lay scattered across a table in an organized chaos.

"Mm, touché." You rubbed your eyes and stifled a yawn before tilting your head at him. "So, what brings you here? Need help with something?"

"I heard you talking to yourself. I thought something might be wrong."

Your face scrunched up in frustration before you gestured toward the medbay. "Got a minute? I could use another set of eyes on this."

Without waiting for an answer, you ushered him inside and handed over a stack of handbound papers. As Dan Heng flipped through the first few pages, he noted the dense shorthand and intricate diagrams you'd scrawled across the margins.

"Because of the Underworld's exposure to artificial light and polluted air, a lot of residents are developing something we've started calling 'shadow-light affliction.' You'd think vitamin D supplements and air purifiers would help, but so far, the results have been underwhelming. Nat and I are stuck. Nothing adds up."

You exhaled heavily, glancing off to the side, your expression clouded with fatigue. "And now she's noticing signs of cold exposure in Overworlders, symptoms that don't respond to the usual remedies. We'd need to create a solution practically from scratch just to get a handle on these cases."

As you trailed off, Dan Heng scrutinized you. He noted the weight of your words and the way your shoulders sagged; the faint sway in your stance betraying your lack of rest.

There was a pregnant pause.

"You're carrying a lot with this work," he said finally. "But if anyone can work it out, it's you. Just—remember to take care of yourself, too. Rest is as important as any of this."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." You slumped into the chair at your desk, rubbing your forehead. "But honestly, I can't go back to sleep right now. Even if I wanted to."

The similarity of your predicament struck Dan Heng, but he offered no response, preferring not to pry.

"Mm, well, I have this trick."

You paused, too tired to register the implication of your words. The moment it clicked, you sat up abruptly, rushing to clarify. "No, not like that! I mean, I just, uh—"

Dan Heng blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Though his expression remained passive, his lips twitched as he held back a smirk.

"You're certainly creative. Maybe save your 'tricks' for after you've gotten a few system hours of rest."

You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. "Please, just. Forget I said anything."

Despite your embarrassment, a soft laugh escaped you, breaking the tension. Dan Heng allowed the incident to pass without further comment, his attention switching to your scattered notes and research.

"If you're insistent on staying awake," he said, "I have a few entries that touch on the physiological effects of prolonged exposure to extreme conditions. There's also a section on terraforming technology and its unintended side effects. It might give you a new angle to approach your research."

From that night onward, he collaborated—if only loosely—on your research. He offered an outsider's perspective, someone you could bounce ideas off of. Dan Heng hadn't mentioned it, but your decision to involve him in your work gave him a chance to improve his own understanding of medicine, a skill he sorely lacked.

"Speaking of which," he asked one night, breaking the stillness as he read through your notes, "how does one properly perform CPR?"

You blinked at him. "Wait, are you saying you don't know? After you—"

"I … thought I did."

You were stunned as you burst out laughing. "Alright, I'll explain the basics of CPR to you. Give me a minute."

You didn't mind answering his occasional questions, and he didn't mind offering his feedback.

Then came the morning of the warp navigation meeting.

Dan Heng had spent the night haunted by the same recurring nightmares, only this time, the man in them addressed him. His words were sharp, cutting deeper than the blade he possessed, leaving a gnawing sense of dread. When he woke, his eyes darted around the confines of his room, half-expecting to find the shadowy figure lurking in the corners.

A sudden knock at his door startled him.

"Dan Heng, come on! You're going to be late to the meeting!" March's muffled voice cut through the haze.

He closed his eyes, letting her voice ground him, pulling him back from the nightmare's grip. This is real, he reminded himself. He wasn't drifting from ship to ship, hunted by the ghost of his past. He was here, on the Astral Express—a place that had given him purpose, structure, and a semblance of stability. But why now? Why did that mean return just as he'd found his footing? Did he not deserve peace?

"Dan Heng—"

"I'll be out in a minute!"

The words came out sharper than intended, and he winced at his tone. He needed to apologize to March later; there was no reason to lash out at her, or anyone for that matter. No one aboard the Express couldn't have known what troubled him. He pressed his palms to his eyes, trying to steady the emotions threatening to spill forth.

For what seemed like an eternity, he stayed curled on his side, willing the storm to pass. A faint vibration drew his attention, followed by the glow of his phone screen. When it buzzed a second time, he grabbed it, ready to shut it off—until the message on the lock screen stopped him.

9:48 AM I know sometimes space is what you need, so feel free to ignore this but just wanted to say: if there's anything bothering you, I'm here.

9:50 AM I'm pretty good at listening. Or being a distraction if you'd prefer that. Take your time.

Dan Heng stared at your message, reading it over and over as if the words might change. Slowly, he unlocked his phone, hesitating before typing out a reply.

9:58 AM Okay. Thank you.

Your response came almost immediately: an emoji of Pom-Pom giving a thumbs up. Despite himself, a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. With a deep breath, he finally pulled himself together. But as soon as he stepped out of the archives, he sensed something was wrong.

March and Caelus were waiting for him, their faces tight with urgency as they explained what had happened in his absence.

The Stellaron Hunters.

The Xianzhou Luofu.

Dan Heng's stomach churned at the mention of the two, but exhaustion dulled the sharp edges of his fear. His past was catching up to him far sooner than he'd hoped. He spent the rest of his day in the archives, poring over books and articles with single-minded determination. The entries on the Xianzhou Alliance were sparse—a patchwork of historical notes that predated his arrival on the Express. He'd avoided this subject for so long, unwilling to confront the painful memories it unearthed.

He instead examined the entries you contributed to. Before you, the archive had been technical; territory he'd navigated with confidence. But with your updates, it has evolved, now reflecting more nuanced and practical perspectives. His name was no longer the main one listed among the editors, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Tearing his eyes from the screen, he checked his phone.

11:45 PM.

No new messages from you. Still, he was certain you'd be awake at this hour. His thumb hovered over the keyboard, watching the cursor blink back at him.

What should he say?

Should he ask for updates on your research or start with something casual?

He frowned, chastising himself for overthinking something as simple as a text message. With a sigh, he typed out a brief text and slid his phone into his pocket, resolving to refocus on the data bank. The cursor on the terminal's screen seemed to mock his lack of progress, blinking insistently as his thoughts refused to align.

Then, his phone vibrated, the feeling startling in the otherwise still space.

Your name lit up the screen.

He rarely received calls, having expounded that he preferred texts unless it was an emergency. The sudden disruption sent his mind racing. Without hesitating, he answered, holding the phone to his ear.

"Hello? Are you in any trouble?"

There was no response—only faint static on your end. Dan Heng's heart raced, his thoughts spiraling as fear clawed at him. His mind was a minefield, primed by his nightmares and the threat of the Stellaron Hunters.

"Are you there? What's going on?" he pressed, gripping his phone.

The static intensified, and his breath hitched as he strained to hear anything that might suggest your current situation. Then, through the interference, he caught a faint sound.

A soft noise.

Was that… No. It had to be something else. He held his breath, listening intently, hoping for clarity.

Another sound followed—a muffled sigh, perhaps, accompanied by the faint rustle of fabric. The static ebbed, and the noise came again, clearer this time.

A moan.

Dan Heng froze, his thoughts grinding to a halt as realization dawned on him. His pulse thumped in his ears as he felt heat rise to his face. The sound was unmistakable now, and the detailed image it conjured in his mind was disconcerting, to say the least.

He should hang up. He knew this. But his hand refused to move. His mind, clouded by exhaustion and an already chaotic day, wrestled with the lewd mental image of you in such an intimate moment.

For a fleeting second, Dan Heng wondered if you knew he was on the line; if this was a mistake, or if…

No.

He cut the thought short. Yet, the fragmented memories that resurfaced complicated everything further. He couldn't pinpoint where they came from—his previous life or an echo of something more distant—but they stirred emotions he wasn't ready to confront.

Dan Heng clenched his jaw, finding the resolve to move. His thumb hovered over the disconnect button. And yet, he hesitated.

Why had his memories become so realistic suddenly? Was it his proximity to the Luofu? His frustration mounted as he fought to keep his emotions in check. He'd trained himself in meditation during his time in the Shackling Prison—the only form of control he'd had in the suffocating isolation of his freezing, dimly lit cell. He'd sworn to never lose control ever again, never let his emotions cloud his judgement like they had in the past.

He should just hang up.

He should forget this ever happened and pretend he hadn't overheard you in the throes of passion. But then his phone crackled with the sound of your voice.

"Shit. Hello? Dan Heng, are you there?"

His throat tightened as he held the phone closer, his fingers curling around the device. He didn't know what to say, if he should say anything at all. His heart thudded in his chest, his mind racing with questions he wasn't sure how to answer.

Then, the call clicked, and you hung up.

He stood still, phone in hand, staring at the screen. The call had lasted five minutes—plenty of time for him to have hung up earlier. Plenty of time for you to think he'd been eavesdropping on purpose. His phone vibrated again, flashing your name. Dan Heng was reluctant to answer, but he knew he couldn't just ignore the situation.

He answered the call after the third ring.

You spoke as soon as the call connected, but he missed the beginning of what you said.

"… There all along?"

Dan Heng became distracted by the data bank powering back up. His fingers fumbled as he tried to occupy himself with something.

"You called me."

There was a brief silence on your end, followed by the sound of you moving, the thump of what he assumed was your bed.

"I did? Oh, Aeons, I did."

You sounded embarrassed, and the mumbled words that followed were too quiet for him to hear. Dan Heng tapped the edge of the terminal's screen, unsure what to say. He wasn't good at comforting people, and this situation—this strange moment—left him feeling like he was treading dangerous waters. He wanted to hang up, retreat to his thoughts, and leave the night behind, but you insisted.

"'How's your progress with the articles I sent you? If they don't suit you, I've found others that might help.'"

He realized you were reading the message he'd sent earlier.

"You don't have to—"

"It's going okay," you interrupted, your voice wavering a bit. "They were helpful. Thank you."

Silence fell between you, thick with unspoken words. He missed the faint buzz of static on your side, though he didn't acknowledge it any further.

"I need to sort through the information to pick out what's relevant. But that's not a bad thing. I've been enjoying it, even outside of research purposes."

His brows furrowed as he listened. You were rambling, attempting to smooth over the tension. Each time he opened his mouth to respond, you intervened, your nervous energy palpable even through the phone.

"Listen—"

"Oh, uh, and are you doing okay? I mean, from earlier today? You didn't come out of your room except for dinner, and even then, you didn't sit with anyone. I was worried something—"

"Listen," he said, cutting through your flurry of words. "It was an accident. We don't have to talk about it, so there's no need to act this way."

The line went quiet. You sighed, the sound crackling through the speaker and sending an odd shiver up his spine.

"Yeah. You're right. Look, I'm sorry—"

He cleared his throat, interrupting before you could go off on a tangent again.

"Oh, right. Sorry!"

He waited to see if you'd say anything else. He wanted this conversation to be over. His thoughts were already a mess, and he didn't have the energy to navigate this interaction any further.

"Well, if that's all, we can hang up now."

There was more rustling on your end, followed by your voice, softer but coherent. "Already? I mean—" you faltered, then said, "Did you want to talk for a bit?"

He frowned. Why were you so insistent on staying on the phone?

"I'd swing by the archives, but, you know."

He sighed through his nose.

"And I'm feeling kind of tired. But not tired enough to fall asleep," you said, trailing off.

He turned his attention back to the terminal, scrolling through entries and sorting them. His gaze landed on one titled Synesthesia Beacons. Skimming through the text, he searched for errors or anything to divert from his inner turmoil. Perhaps you'd drift off soon and he could end the call.

"Dan Heng?"

Your voice was thick with sleep now, gentle as you said his name. His earlier feelings—the agitation sparked by your call and the memories it had dredged up—hung around, leaving him tense. He rolled his shoulders to ease the burden, growing tired of standing in place.

"Yeah?"

"I meant what I said before. I asked Mr. Yang and Himeko, but they said you should be the one to tell it. If you choose to."

He closed his eyes, deciding he was done with the data bank for now. Dan Heng crossed the room, stepping onto the elevated panel glowing with a serene, looping scene of the ocean's waves, before sitting at the high-back chair underneath his desk. His workspace was free of clutter, except for a clipboard and pen. He recognized it as the questionnaire you'd given everyone to fill out. He'd started on it, filling out basic info, but a few of the fields asking for age and so forth had given him pause.

"It's complicated."

He stared at the massive navigation screen along the back wall, watching as the icon representing the Express grew closer to the Luofu. "But … I had a nightmare. That's all."

You hummed softly before saying, "It must've been pretty bad if it bothered even you."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

You let out a breathy laugh.

"I didn't mean it as an insult, I promise. You just reminded me of Seele. She wouldn't open up when something was bothering her, either. Not until she caught me stealing her comic books, anyway."

Your voice lowered as you stifled a yawn. "I bring all of that up to say you shouldn't keep your emotions bottled up inside. Especially when you're surrounded by people who care about you and your well-being."

Dan Heng's response was immediate. "My past is my burden and mine alone."

You sighed, resigned but not unkindly. "Alright, did you find anything new in the data bank to help me?"

That was a task he could handle. He'd been compiling his findings—passages and records featuring techniques similar to the ones you'd mentioned. All of it neatly filed into a folder with your name on it.

Opening it up, he responded, "Of course. Where would you like me to start?"

"The beginning."

So he did.

He filled the next couple of minutes with the sound of his voice, reading aloud. At some point, he forgot his aversion to phone calls, so absorbed divulging information. It wasn't until fatigue crept in that he finally glanced at the time.

12:28 AM.

How long had you two been talking?

He pulled the phone away from his ear, the screen brightening to reveal the call timer: thirty-seven minutes and counting. He replaced the phone on his ear and called out to you.

"Hello?"

At first, there was nothing, and he thought you might've fallen asleep. Then the faint crackle of the speaker carried your voice through.

"Sorry, I'm still here. I just zoned out."

Though the excuse didn't entirely convince him, he chose not to press.

"Has anyone told you your voice is soothing?"

His brows furrowed as he twirled the pen between the fingers of his free hand. "No, I can't say anyone has."

"Well, let me be the first," you said, your smile noticeable in your tone. "You've got the perfect voice for reading, like one of those audiobook narrators."

Another pause followed. This time, Dan Heng thought you might be drifting off again, but he didn't hang up. He should have, he realized that. Sleep was a necessity, especially for someone like him. But the thought of closing his eyes brought with it a panic. The nightmares would come again, as they always did, leaving him paralyzed and vulnerable. He hated that feeling—how it compared to the Shackling Prison, trapping him with his thoughts and leaving no way to fight back.

Instead, he stayed on the line, your presence a balm for his state of mind as he tried to hold on to this fragile thread of connection.

"If you don't mind, could you keep going?"

But immersing himself in engaging activities kept his thoughts at bay. Even though he was aware, you weren't paying close attention, likely lulled more by his voice than the content of his words, he continued reading. You stayed mostly quiet, occasionally murmuring to let him know you were still there. Soon after, Dan Heng grew tired of sitting in the chair. Standing with a stretch, he cradled the phone against his shoulder, picked up a tablet, and moved toward his bedroll on the floor.

He'd already changed into his nightclothes earlier in the evening, preferring the privacy of late-night showers when the rest of the crew had turned in. Settling on top of the blanket, he crossed his legs and placed the tablet in his lap.

"'Recent advancements from the teachings of Yaoshi have unveiled new methods to utilize THEIR blessing of long-life. Primarily in fields related to cellular regeneration,'" he said, fighting back a yawn.

Then, unprompted, you said, "I get nightmares too, sometimes."

Dan Heng inhaled deeply, lowering the tablet as he listened.

"I guess that makes me a bit of a hypocrite, huh? I find it hard to talk about them more than anything. So … I get what you mean."

"For the record," you continued, "this isn't some strategy to convince you to open up. You don't have to tell me anything you're uncomfortable sharing."

You shifted around, a yawn punctuating your sentence, coaxing another from him in return. Then, a small sigh. "It's just … wow, this really is hard. I should probably apologize to Seele, huh?"

"The same should apply to you. You don't have to force yourself to share anything that makes you uncomfortable."

You let out a quiet laugh. "Yeah, I guess. But where's the fun in that? If you want to get closer to someone, you've gotta be open about the good and bad, right?"

Dan Heng's fingers toyed with the hem of his T-shirt as he asked, "Like that night in the medbay?"

He half-expected you to stammer or grow flustered, the way you had before. Instead, you softly exhaled. "Right. See, this is one thing I like about you. You don't beat around the bush."

His body tensed, a strange paradox of calm and unease overtaking him. Was he imagining the way your words teased him? Testing the waters, poking at some reaction he wasn't sure how to explain?

"I see no point in riddles. It's best to be direct."

You spoke aloud your agreement.

"Which brings me to my next question: why don't you stop beating around the bush and tell me what it is you want from me?"

The atmosphere becomes heavy and charged. Dan Heng laid back on his futon, eyes fixed on the ceiling as he waited for your response. Part of him wanted to check if the call dropped, but your voice returned—playful and suggestive.

"Was I too obvious?"

He didn't respond, sensing it was your last attempt to deflect, to sidestep whatever topic you were circling.

"Fine. I was thinking … maybe we could do a little more than just talking?"

"Need I remind you that you're the one insisting we stay on the phone?"

"Yeah, but what's stopping you from hanging up?"

Dan Heng worried his bottom lip as your laughter filtered through the speaker at his lack of response. How had you two reached this point? Though his past and the Luofu no longer dominated his thoughts, others, deeper and just as invasive, took their place.

He hadn't known you for long. The time between leaving Jarilo-IV and the upcoming stop at the Luofu had been about a week, yet it seemed you were always there, carving a place in the quiet corners of his life.

This seemed common among passengers who found permanence on the Astral Express. Himeko and Welt offered him stability and purpose. March constantly pulled him out of his shell, challenging his self-imposed boundaries. The Trailblazer encouraged him to take a more active role during their journey, pushing him further into the dynamics of their little crew.

But you?

Something about you unsettled him—something different. Your approach to him was distinct from how you treated everyone else, though he couldn't decide whether this was intentional. Would you finally be forthcoming with him now?

"What exactly did you have in mind?"

"Now look who's beating around the bush."

"I'm not," he replied, though the hesitation in his voice betrayed him. "I just wanted to see if you'd say it first."

There was movement on your end, punctuated by your voice, now closer and quieter.

"Can you help me get off, Dan Heng? I can't fall back asleep."

Heat flared under his skin, searing through his veins and creeping up his neck. His thoughts shattered the mental restraints he had forged, turning against him.

The sounds of you tossing and turnings painted graphic images he couldn't suppress—your body arching against the sheets, your breath hitching as you sought release. This time, you wouldn't stifle your moans, and he'd hear every desperate, intimate sound in its entirety.

Memories surfaced involuntarily, segments of reactions he'd assumed were long buried. His fingers curled into his blanket, mimicking the way he'd once held another. Now, his mind weaved you into these memories, wondering how it would feel if it were you.

"What should I do to help?"

***

You kicked off the blankets, the stifling heat beneath the sheets making it impossible to stay still as the early morning hours dragged on. You pressed the phone firmly to your ear, giving your full attention to every sound from Dan Heng's side. Since growing closer to him, you'd longed for something deeper—something beyond the quiet conversations and shared moments. The suspense overwhelmed you, pulling taut whenever you were near him. Sometimes, you were certain he understood your feelings; other times, you suspected he was completely oblivious.

Calling him tonight had been a mistake—a clumsy slip of your finger—but it had turned into an unignorable opportunity. Dan Heng had consumed your thoughts and claimed the focus of your restless dreams on the rare nights you had sweet ones. And now, as his voice crackled faintly in your ear, you wondered just how much further this might go.

Your vibrator, once neglected, now demanded your attention as your hand found its familiar, smooth shape. Silicone warmed under your touch as you held it, your finger circling over the power button. You didn't turn it on just yet; the anticipation drawing out the burgeoning intimacy as you searched for the right words.

"Could you …" you wavered, voice breaking before you swallowed. "Tell me what you're thinking about right now?"

The line went dead until his voice came through again. It was low and smooth, laced with a breathlessness that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I'm not used to saying things like this, but I … I really want to touch you."

"Yeah?"

Your hand worked its way lower. "Like where?"

The pauses between his replies stretched longer now, each one heightening the ache between your thighs. The earlier interruption to your orgasm came back with force, leaving you writhing against your sheets. When he spoke again, his words unraveled in a way that left no room for restrictions.

"Everywhere. All over your body."

Your hand slid to your thigh, squeezing the flesh as your mind painted titillating pictures of him. You'd seen the strength Dan Heng concealed behind his icy demeanor—the same strength he displayed in battle. He didn't need anyone to watch his back in the ring. Now, you imagined that power turned toward you, but not in combat. His hands grazing your skin, running along your thighs as he worked you to the edge, his movements painstaking and deliberate. The thought alone made you impatient, and you didn't wait any longer; turning on the vibrator with a faint click.

"Are you touching yourself?"

The rasp of his voice sent a jolt straight through you. The sheer audacity of his question, paired with the rawness of his tone, left you breathless.

"Yeah."

You trailed the vibrator along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, teasing yourself with the intense vibrations. In your mind, you pictured him laid out on his futon, staring at the ceiling, his composure coming undone. The way his chest would rise and fall, the faint pink dusting of his cheeks, the soft part of his lips as he breathed your name. He was only a few steps away. The thought of closing the distance tempted you.

"Sorry," his voice was but a growl, as if fraying at the edges. "I can't think straight—"

"I wish you were here touching me instead," you gasped when you brushed against your mons, rolling your hips at the feeling.

You circled the tip of your vibrator around yourself, keeping the touch light as you brushed above your clit. You forced yourself not to give in just yet, prolonging the sensuous torture. It became difficult for you to suppress the noises threatening to force its way past your lips.

"I … don't know what you're doing to me," Dan Heng groaned into your ear, his breathing picking up through the phone. "I keep imagining … your hands. Your body. The way you'd look."

The vibrator in your hand hummed, but his voice drowned out everything else, sending heat pooling in your stomach. You move it lower, sinking the tip into your wetness to coat it in slick before pressing it against the side of your clit. Your muscles tightened as you clenched around nothing.

"What else?"

He sucked air through his teeth. "You're asking a lot out of me."

You held your phone overhead, switching the call to speakerphone to free your other hand. Your fingers trailed along your dripping wet opening without hesitation, the anticipation making you break out in goosebumps.

"And yet … you're still here."

A disbelieving huff escaped him.

"You're insatiable."

You bit your lip, sliding your fingers inside and curling them upward. The pressure made your walls clench around them as you pressed deeper, a fine sheen of sweat breaking across your skin. Moans and uneven breaths filled your room.

"Dan Heng," you whimpered, swallowing hard against the dryness in your throat. "Please … keep talking."

The squelching of your fingers added to the intoxicating atmosphere. When he spoke again, his voice was smooth as silk, a thread of control barely masking his own unraveling.

"Your skin. I want to know if it's as soft as I imagine … to hear the sounds you'd make if I touch you."

Your breath hitched, and his next words were a direct response.

"I wonder what you'd sound like … if I were the one making you feel this way."

Your vibrator shook in your hand as you pressed it closer, intensifying with each tight circle over your swollen clit. His voice was the only tether grounding you to reality, an unfair weapon in his control. You swore he was there beside you, his breath fanning across your ear as he influenced your every movement.

"I want to hear you. Say my name."

The coil in your abdomen tightened. Your hips arched, caught in the push and pull of pleasure, as you sobbed his name. Thighs trembling and clenching around your arm, you sank your fingers as deep as they could go, your release crashing over you in a wave. A final, keening cry escaped your lips as your body melted into the bedsheets.

You basked in the afterglow, your breath coming in shallow gasps. The bliss that engulfed you like nothing you'd achieved alone before. Your heavy eyelids fluttered shut and sleep pulled you under when his voice cut through the fog.

"Are you still there?"

You hummed groggily.

"I just wanted to say … good night."

Your eyes snapped open, and you snatched your phone from the pillow beside you. You switched off speakerphone and brought it to your ear.

"Wait. Don't go."

"But you're about to fall asleep, aren't you?"

You chewed your lip. "Maybe. But … I don't want this to be a one-off thing."

The silence on his end stretched on, fear tightening in your chest. Had you misread his feelings? Before doubt consumed you, Dan Heng offered you a calm reassurance.

"I … I wasn't planning to leave things as they are. We'll talk about it later. For now, just rest," he said, the gentle sincerity in his voice easing your worries.

"I'll still be here."

xpeachy-keenx. 2024. do not repost, copy, or translate without permission.

#reader insert #fem reader #honkai star rail #honkai x reader #honkai x you #hsr x reader #hsr x y/n #dan heng x reader #dan heng x y/n #dan heng x you #female reader #smut #xpeachy-keenx writing

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slayfk · 4 months ago

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does having my horse descriptions stolen by a big horse twitter account mean i’ve made it big …

sigh … i got them to take these two down at least, but i had to call each one out individually to them for them to do it and they said it was just an accident that they were extremely similar and that a conscious effort had been made to NOT make them similar… i feel bad making like an actual “callout” since they took the posts down and said they felt bad but when i contacted them about it they only took one post down until i specifically asked them about another so they seemed to be trying to just get away with what they could...unsure

i'm not upset about the images because the purpose of the horseimagebarn (aside from funny descriptions) is to sort and archive horse images so people can find the exact kind of horse image they're looking for with ease...what bothers me (as i am not exactly "upset" as that's a bit intense, more just annoyed and disappointed) is the use of my descriptions

i surprisingly put a lot of effort into my posts so it sucks to see someone with one of the biggest horse image/meme accounts on twitter that i previously really enjoyed and looked up to all of a sudden start stealing my posts and even when they don’t, they use really similar tone and phrasing to mine which would be fine on its own but combined with the stealing it makes me feel very strange like someone is just trying to be me somewhere else and getting a lot more attention for it (attention is not why i do this, but it's just like an extra kick to the penis to see them have so much of it for my work!!)

p.s. to combat this i did make a horseimagebarn twitter just to repost screenshots of my posts as it feels wrong to be upset about plagiarism on a platform i am not on, and maybe if that account sees that i am active there they'll stop rewording my posts … so i’ll just be reposting my stuff there to hopefully prevent something like this from happening again :,) there won't be any new content on twitter as tumblr is my home and i care about it one horsillion times more so don't worry, this is literally just to repost my tumblr posts to discourage further plagiarism

not telling you to follow that because i really don't care about that and it's the same content as here but i wanted to inform you in case you see someone with the @ horseimagebarn on twitter that's me don't worry

anyway yeah... if you know which account i am talking about don't harass them because i do NOT want to be the one to start horse image community drama (dischorse as we have coined it), hopefully they'll go back to their original style of post and it'll all be okay!! shoutout to my wonderful friends in the horseblr discord for helping me check the account and figure out the plagiarized posts i love you fellows

#posting this here instead of the barn so i can be ooc #plagiarism #twitter #horse #horses #horseposting #horseblr #horse fandom #horseimagebarn #dischorse

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artsninspo · 3 months ago

Text

FORGIVELESS - X - GOT A COUPLE THAT'S OUTSIDE, THEY KILL ABOUT ME THOUGH 🪦

« previous part

➨ rio's library - good girl nbc

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

MOODBOARD 🖼️

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word Count: ~4.3K

Warning: Same as all the others for the most part, mentions of violence and un-aliving someone.

Summary: Picking up where we left off. Rio and the Reader try to establish a new normal until the reader gets a call regarding James. Having had his fill of the back and forth Rio finally makes himself known to James and puts an end to the chaos.

X - GOT A COUPLE THAT'S OUTSIDE, THEY KILL ABOUT ME THOUGH 🪦

The dread of returning home to a less than ideal reality is coursing through your veins. It’s so overwhelming you can feel something is coming in your bones. The fight to maintain your centre is active. You haven't practised yoga in more than a week and you have not maintained your meditation rituals. A hand splays over your thigh offering comfort and affection along with a kiss on the top of your head as you rest your head on his chest. You can't help but wonder how he knows that right now you're in need of affection as your mind drifts. The plane starts its descent and you place your hand over Rio’s. You wish you were happier, especially after all the effort he’d put into your excursions the day prior but it feels like that ship has sailed with those bullshit messages. Closing your eyes you sigh deeply regretting the grace you’d given him. You regret not going postal, not showing up to his job, not kicking and screaming, not telling his mother, bleaching his clothes, the whole nine yards. Clearly, he has no intentions of sparing you or maintaining your reputation. Swallowing you decide the gloves are all the way off. Cheating back just didn't seem to cut it. You’d have to hop down to the depths to meet him at his level. You sit stewing without knowing Rio has already taken care of it. He’d gotten the message confirmation before you’d left the villa this morning. It was part of the reason why he found himself capable of smiling. As soon as the plane landed he knew there would be more details. He needed James down and incapable of bothering you for at least the next month. From here on out he’d let you decide the next courses of action - unless James gets out of pocket again. You and Rio leave the airport side by side. His assertive energy is quite the thing to experience in person. People just seem to give him respect. The airport staff nod at him in acknowledgement. People come over to help him when he needs help and he delegates efficiently finding an attendant to get your bags off the baggage carousel paying them handsomely to lift the bags and push the cart. He doesn't break a sweat keeping you close. You watch him in awe as he moves with precision and purpose; you end up at a part of the airport you don’t recall ever coming across as your bags are transferred to a new attendant.

“Hey man, table for two” Rio says and your eyes bulge in horror when you realise where you are. It's a five star restaurant.

“Rio, I’m in loungewear” you whisper.

“Let me find out you're trying to impress someone else” he comments and you shake your head. “You look beautiful” he smiles as we are seated in a private area. Everyone else is well dressed.

“Thank you, it's just …”

“Mama, me being able to get my girl in a restaurant I don’t own in her pyjamas is boss shit” Rio says and you feel your cheeks burn.

“Ha, Ha! You've seen my pj’s, this is loungewear” you correct.

“Whatever you say” he shrugs and you look away laughing as a server comes over pouring you a delicious smelling tea.

“The boss will be right out, if you need any help with the menus let me know. We’re happy to make any substitutions you may require. If you need anything click the button on the table and I'll be right out” the man explains. Overwhelmed you hand Rio your menu.

“Please order what you think I’ll like” you tell him and he smiles proceeding to do just that on your behalf. The server smiles and disappears. It’s clear he has great taste and only likes the best of the best, everywhere he goes he’s treated with the utmost consideration.

“I had a dinner planned for us last night” he confesses. It’s clear Rio is upset about having to pivot because of James. Your first instinct is an apology but you reconsider it knowing Rio doesn't expect one.

“I wish things happened differently,” you confess. “I know it would have been gorgeous” you smile and he nods.

“It was, and I was going to ask you to be my girl because I figure being clear is the best thing for both of us. I know you’ve got a lot going on and I know you’re trying to be happy but it’s okay if you’re not. Fuck shame and James the joke. Soso said I need to be more sensitive” he says.

“Soso?”

“Marisol” he corrects and you smile at his soft side and Marisol’s consideration of you. “Anyway, I’m not ashamed of shit we got going on or what you’re dealing with. I want you to be my girl. I enjoy our time together and I’m not running from shit” he shrugs.

“I had no idea they even made men like you” you remark out loud, thankful for him. Rio smirks, raising a brow.

“Like what?” he asks and you reach across the table to take his chin.

“No words” you smile, giving him a quick peck. “Of course I’ll be yours.” You respond sitting back down. Rio smiles.

“Good” he nods and the waiter brings out a delicious plate of food you absolutely love. Rio shares some of his with your and you with him. Before dinner is over he leaves to speak with the owner. You relax in your seat and check your phone to see a message thread with Tia already making plans for the two of you to go shopping. It’s how Rio finds you and you leave the restaurant and end up at the valet where his car is waiting already loaded with your luggage. You arrive at his place forty-five minutes later. It’s so clean it looks staged.

“I didn't forget about you getting your own place” he comments, watching you hesitate. Shacking up had been against your constitution since before you and James had gotten serious. James, you shake your head knowing you're gonna have to confront him over what he did. You’re gonna have to move your things out.

“I’m in no rush. I’m gonna call my mom and tell her we got in okay” you tell Rio.

“Bet, I have a meeting across town in two hours. I’m going to get ready and head out.” he says leaving you to it.

Settling into the extra deep cushions you look around at the pristine place that feels slightly sterile. It's the level of perfection that doesn't make it feel lived in. You call your mom and she picks up on the third ring.

“Hey Ma, we landed safely.” you tell her.

“Good baby girl” she says but her voice sounds off.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Just got a call from James’ mother.” she says and your eyes close as the irritation mounts. That gag order might be necessary after all.

“Yay” you mutter sarcastically.

“Are you sitting down?” Ma asks and your eyes open as you sit forward.

“Yes?” you ask concerned.

“Apparently James was in a fight last night. It went badly for him and he’s in the hospital suffering pretty badly if she’s not exaggerating. They spent the night and all morning calling you until James was lucid enough to have them call his mother. She's furious and wouldn’t let me get a word in.” Your mom explains rocking your world.

“She’s blaming me isn't she?” You ask and your mothers silence is telling. “Why doesn't he call his girlfriend?” you question your mother.

“He wants you and she’s her son's advocate in light of your absence let her tell it” your mom explains. Sighing deeply you look at the ceiling.

“What was he thinking? Starting a fight?” you question.

Your mom sighs “I don’t know…”

“What do you think I should do?” you ask in need of guidance.

“Do what feels right” she says, being no help. Sexual healing with RIo is what feels right. But you leave your mom out of that truth sighing deeply. You resent James more and more every waking moment it seems.

“I guess I’ll go” you say finally. “Guess I’ll take this time to move my things out too”

“I’m coming down, i’ll get a hotel and we can sort it out together” she says.

“Thanks mom” you sigh in relief.

“No problem my love, let me get things sorted and I’ll call you later. Call me if you need anything” she offers.

“I will love you mommy, sorry you’ve become my secretary” you tell her.

“No problem, I've been cleaning up your shit since you were in diapers. It’s what I signed up for” she jokes, making you laugh.

“Hopefully, you get a break again really soon” you smile.

“Only a tiny one, I want some grandbabies,” she says.

“Ma!” you laugh.

“After the divorce is finalized of course, and you’re in a happy healthy marriage” she specifies.

“The shitty fumes must be getting to you. Light a candle, open a window, get some fresh air and I’ll call you later” you tease joking with her.

“Love you, bye” she says hanging up and you do too. Rio emerges dressed in his signature all black and you feel terrible for throwing yet another complicated issue his way.

“What is it?” he asks, sitting down beside you.

“I need a key” you tell him.

“My housekeeper got one cut,” he says. “Where are you headed?” he asks.

“To the hospital James got into something. I’m his emergency contact, he’s in bad shape and asking for me, it’s this whole thing” you explain not wanting to be in this situation.

“I don't think he deserves to see you,” Rio says angrily.

“I’m not sure he’s seeing much of anything with how bad it seems he was beat up.” you tell Rio.

“I don't think you should go after the shit he’s pulled” Rio stands his ground.

“I know, I’m going to go though. I can't keep running from my problems. If I go, he and his mom can say whatever. I can remove myself from all necessary non-legal documents for the time being and then I can tell her I'm going to move out my things and to stop calling my mom. Moving forward all communications will be handled through email until I retain legal counsel” you explain and Rio finds himself smiling.

“Boss shit” he comments.

You snicker. “I have a good teacher”

“Who? I’m not doing all that talking” Rio asserts.

“Take my car and call me if anything you don't like happens” Rio offers.

“You have a meeting. I’ll wait” You respond not wanting to be a distraction.

“Baby, I’m the boss, there's no meeting without me,” Rio says and you laugh, shaking your head at him. Everything about him is so sexy to you. There's no apology for owning who he is and you pinch his cheek.

“I love that about you” you smile honestly and in a second you clam up. The L word. But Rio doesnt clam up, it’s music to his ears.

“Don’t start or we’ll be here all day if I have to list the things I love about you” he says, giving you a kiss as he stands with his heart racing like a kid. His smile is reassuring, affirming you're alright.

“Maybe some other time then” you recover and he nods, coming back with car keys and a house key for you.

“Go handle your business mama” Rio smirks, willing to let you leap. Your lungs fill with air and you nod knowing he’s there to catch you.

You feel yourself tugging at the hems of your long sleeves as you walk into the eerie hospital environment. The stark whites and fluorescent lighting clash with the depth of Rio’s home decor. No longer in his presence you don't feel as strong or as sure footed. If James has done anything over the past month, it's been turning your life upside down. After years of keeping things close to the chest, what he pulled last night was the very last thing you ever thought he would do. You guess karma is funny that way because it’s him and not you that acted the ass only to be beat up so bad hospitalisation is required. Following the directions from the information desk you find yourself in a unit that smells absolutely disgusting. You hold your breath until you grab a mask from the wall only to freeze once it's on. James’ mother Gladys watches you with folded arms. His father James Senior sits outside the room with his head down instead of pointed at you.

“Someone call my wife!” you hear James shout from inside one of the rooms. His voice is strained and the pain in it is unmistakable.

“Get your ass in there!” His mother screams near tears.

“Gladys” Senior hisses, he’s the king of time and place. Years of trying to please his family nearly makes you rush into the room with your head down, but the time of putting James your needs ahead of everyone else's is done.

“Gladys I’d like to speak to you” you swallow standing your ground.

“We can talk after you go in and tend to your husband.” Her tone is sharp but it no longer cuts.

“If you don't want to talk now I can leave and I won't be coming back” you swallow standing firm.

“Y/N, he’s in pain, one of his eyes is swollen shut and his neck is sprained from how hard he was hit. His breathing is impeded by a few cracked ribs according to x-rays and he’s got a fractured ankle.” Senior says. It’s a surprise, you've never heard of someone so severely impacted from a fight. All that muscle and it turns out he’s made of glass.

“How many people fought him?” you ask.

“Two” Senior responds and you swallow. “He wants to see you, that's all he wants. I know you two are having a rough patch-”

“He’s been cheating on me for six months. Please don’t deny it. I saw the photographs and messages between them. She knew and would talk about me like trash. James didn't defend me. It’s the truth and if he thinks I'm so crazy to make things up then that's another reason we should be divorced.” You tell his father frankly.

“He’s a successful man and you want for nothing, give a little, have a heart” His mother says, shaming women everywhere. As painful as it is, you're grateful that James and his family are in the past now.

“He’s been harassing me for the past week and a half. I had to change my number. The only reason I left is because he nearly put hands on me. Dragged me out of the car when I tried to leave him. A cop broke it up. It’s documented if you don't believe me. He’s been harassing my mother too and cyberstalking me. He’s sending horrible messages to the people I spend time with telling them I’m having an affair, that I’m crying out for attention and mentally unstable.” You vent and while Gladys looks like she doesn’t believe it, Senior seems less reluctant to accept your truth.

“He shouldn’t get physical,” Senior says, drawing the line in the sand somewhere. It’s a decent start toward progress.

“Or harass and stalk me” you add.

“He’s fighting for you Y/N, out of everyone he’s been calling for you non stop. He’s made a mistake but he loves you and I know you love him. You've been married for years, don't let a lapse in judgement or another woman take that from you. He probably let the world or his colleagues get in his head.” Senior says with excellent spin. Maybe two months ago it would have worked. Maybe if he’d ended things without the pressure of your awareness. Maybe if he’d treated you better or reacted differently but not now, not after he’s done so much to hurt you.

“She can have him because if this is how he loves - I don't want it” You swallow pushing the door open. Looking at James sympathy swells in your core. Half of his face is so swollen he’s nearly unrecognisable. He can barely handle the flu so you know this is hell for him.

“Baby” he smiles, erasing every drop of empathy in you.

“No baby, Y/N” You correct sitting in the chair and he smiles while shaking his head.

“What are you playing at? What took you so long?” He asks, trying a smile, it's hard to tell with the swelling.

“James pretending to have amnesia is beneath even you. Don’t make this worse than it needs to be with the pet names. I’ve had enough Jekyll and Hyde from you to last a lifetime” you comment with thinning patience. James’ eyes hold yours for a long while before he relents.

“I’m not gonna stop fighting for us” is what he says first.

“Yes you are, I’m gonna go to the house this week and get my things and you're going to stop contacting me and anyone I associate with.” you explain.

“You're my wife Y/N” he snaps.

“Call Japan, get down on one knee for her when you can manage it” You comment and the hint of cruelty in your disregard for his current predicament is not lost on James.

“So you can be with a club owner? I mean if you’re pissed with me for cheating what do you think he’s gonna do?” James deflects.

“No one I associate with is your business. James, why don't you understand that I’m trying to be civil when what I should do is crash out after the shit you pulled yesterday. That message was abhorrent and grounds for me to file for a restraining order which I may have to still since you're committed to thinking this divorce is a joke” you snap.

“It is, you can't afford to leave me” he threatens.

“No James, you can't afford to lose me but it’s too late. I hope you treat the next woman better, if you get lucky enough.” You stand.

“You won't get anything good in the divorce we don’t have kids!” He says playing his last card.

“Thank God, co-parenting with an asshole like you would be a life sentence” you comment.

“Fuck you” he sneers and the machine he’s attached to starts beeping.

“Have fun pissing into a cup” You shoot back as his mother rushes in.

—----

Later that night

Sitting in the dimly lit room Rio can't recall the last time someone had him this out of character. But James was new to the city after all. How could he know who he was dealing with in all his arrogance. It was his arrogance that made this all easier for Rio. Getting him handled was just a phone call. Sitting he looks ahead at the imbecile that was stupid enough to let you slip through his fingers. Up close and personal with James it was clear the man couldn't differentiate between an asset or liability. He had a wife that was happy to please him, out of the way, good cook with great pussy and a heart of gold. He’d traded into a clear cut VVS diamond for one of those huge lab grown stones. He’d an heirloom for aesthetics, gold for fools gold, and now he was grasping at straws. Being fed pain killers intravenously to quell the beating that was the result of him acting out. Looking down at his gloved hand Rio looks to the gold gun, it always did the trick. Got people where he wanted them quickly. Got their undivided attention and guided them to compliance. Sitting forward he butts the hospital bed arm rails with his gun twice before sitting back in the seat. James only stirs sleepily, rapping twice more, Rio watches as the man stirs looking around only to go from sleepy to scared. Rio watches as James sits up only to wince and hiss. His hands reach for the button to call the nurse but Rio has already switched it off. It takes James a moment to realise help isn't coming only for panic to fill his eyes at the sight of the gun laying on his lap.

“I - I - I” James begins but the first two tries are hoarse. He swallows before continuing. “IIIII, I didn't mean whatever I said or did, I was wasted” he manages. Displeased with his skills of deduction Rio says nothing as he watches him fight to sit up in disgust.

“You have two choices,” Rio says finally. “Option One: You refuse option two and I pay one of these underpaid and overworked nurses to inject something to make your life miserable into this bag. More miserable than you are already.” Rio swallows. “Two, you leave Y/N alone and sign the divorce papers”

“How the fuck do you know my wif-” Rio is quick and presses the iron against Jame’s skull.

“Keep talking crazy” Rio smiles, pulling the gun back to screw on a silencer. Once it's fastened he returns his attention back to James. “What were you saying?” Rio asks with his head tilted, wishing James would give him one more reason. Instead of a response the coward swallows. Rio smirks, returning to his seat placing the gun on the tray beside him and giving James his attention once again.

“I mean I get it. I dont get why you cheated but I get you fighting for her. I mean …” Rio nods to himself. “It’s the way she looks at me when she hasn't seen me for a bit” Rio starts chipping away at James' resolve. “The way she calls when she needs something, her little walk, hell I don't even care about her shit crowding the counters in the bathroom” Rio taunts watching James’ patience wear down.

“So you’re her rebound” James grits.

“Rebound is better than the guy who fumbled her. Rebound has her in bed begging for more almost every night.” Rio continues.

“Enough” Jame’s grits.

“I mean I guess you know how good her pussy is, fan-fucking-tastic. I’ll probably suck her dry when I get home and then give her a son” Rio says, hitting the right nerve.

“Fuck you!” James snarks, making Rio smile.

“She probably ain’t post these to spare your ass but since youre a nosy fuck take a look” Rio says getting his phone to a few of the video’s they’d taken on the trip. James closes his eyes at the sight of Rio grabbing your boob while in a bikini in the water together before you kiss. “Aww, what's wrong? It’s no fun when I have the gun?”

“I’ll sign the fucking papers” James grits.

“Ay man, she was always gonna get the divorce whether you were here on earth or in hell” Rio mutters keeping James aware of the existing power dynamic. “Matter of fact, you're gonna send everyone you sent the last bullshit message this one and post it to your story” :

Hello,

I’m writing with a heavy heart to clarify my previous message regarding the affair between your cousin and Y/N. I realize now how misguided and hurtful my words were, driven by my own insecurities and shame.

The painful truth is that I am the one who had an affair for six long months with someone named @JapanJacobs. In my selfishness, I completely neglected my role as a husband and failed to be the partner Y/N deserved. I can’t express how deeply sorry I am for the emotional turmoil I’ve caused her.

I must admit that I also became aggressive with her during our struggles, which only pushed her further away. When she finally asked for a divorce, it sent me spiralling into a manic state that I couldn’t control. I was lost and scared, and I lashed out in my confusion.

I am currently seeking serious help for my mental health and undergoing an evaluation, but I know it may be too little, too late. I am truly ashamed of my actions and the pain I’ve inflicted, not just on my wife but on all of you as well.

I’m so sorry for dragging you into this mess and for speaking poorly of Y/N, who has shown me nothing but kindness. I feel utterly pathetic for what I’ve done, and I can only hope for forgiveness, even though I know I don’t deserve it.

Thank you for your understanding during this difficult time.

Sincerely,James

Looking up from the screen James can hardly speak again. “I’m not sending that!” he snaps scornfully. His pride would not allow it.

“I think you are and I bet you don't tell anyone about my visit either. Won’t make you look too sane. Promise you this, if I have to deal with another frown from something you did to my woman you won't walk again. You try something slick and your pops will be in the morgue first. You should’ve respected your beauty but now you’ve woken up a beast.” Rio stands as James’ night nurse enters. Rio waits for James to cry foul but he doesn't. Nodding Rio gives the nurse her cue. A sleep draft is administered and before James can make any stupid decisions he’s forced into a temporary sleep. The messages are sent, the story is posted and Rio leaves the hospital having snatched away all James’ power, safety and ego. According to the nurse, recovery would take at least six months which would be enough time to decide how to end him and make it look accidental.

Authors Note: Whew, this was a long one with a little of everything. I hope you all are happy with James getting his just due. Rio said aht aht aht, you're gonna suffer like you tried to make my girl. You're gonna go crazy like you tried to make my girl. Stick around and try me big dog 😂 What was your favourite part of the chapter? Also, I still have some time to finish up the final part so let me know any suggestions below or in my inbox 📥 .

» next part

TAGS:

@meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana @1xtral1983 @theegoddessofmelanin @fictionalreads

#rio good girls #rio x reader #good girls rio #rio x you #manny montana x reader #rio good girls imagine #manny montana fanfiction #rio good girls fanfiction #masterlist #forgiveless

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jeonscape · 11 days ago

Text

── 𝐅𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐉.𝐊

⌗ You’re like a small deer, obliviously grazing an open field as you saunter about your kitchen; unaware of the wolf that lurks within the treeline.

wc. 896

𝖕airings stalker!jungkook 𝔁 f!reader 𝖜arnings stalking, fingering, handjob, mutual masturbation (non consensual, he gets off to watching her), obsession, Jungkook visualises himself touching the reader, heavy dub con on his thoughts.

from archive 📁 ─ first fic, well, drabble I suppose. dark content, don't like don't read! personally obsessed with the idea of jk stalking you and getting off to you without your knowledge.

Pretty.

Gentle, kind and timid. — Soft to the touch. Insignificant beneath the rough and large palms of his inked hands. Docile under his dark and demanding gaze. Jungkook imagines you as such. He has for a very long time.

You’re like a small deer, obliviously grazing an open field as you saunter about your kitchen; unaware of the wolf that lurks within the treeline. Jungkook's eyes move quickly, tracing your figure with gleam. The thick hoodie falls over the majority of his face, shielding him from unwanted attention, casting him in shadows.

Just like a deer you’re skittish. The quiet creak of floorboards makes you jump, clutching the bowl of popcorn tightly in your hands, and for a second he worries that you might catch him. But naive as you are, you never do. — Deers were always on edge yet they never seemed to know where the real dangers lay.

His hot breath fogs the cold glass of your window. Jungkook hadn’t even realized that he was near panting. Blood rushes through his veins, his heart beating with demand as he drinks in your skimpily dressed body. It was like you were purposely trying to put on a show, like you were wanting to rile him up. And he would admit, it had worked.

Jungkook follows you into your bedroom. For a moment you disappear from his vision, and he scurries past the wall of your bathroom, for there was no window there. — Then he finally settles between his favorite bushes, his gaze immediately locking on to its designated target.

You move with slow and tired intentions, lazily dragging yourself onto the mattress as you allow your limbs to go limp. You don’t even bother to pull the covers over yourself. Jungkook's heart races. Oh there’s so much he wants to do to you right now, if only you’d let him in. If only.. He bites the inside of his cheek, his brows furrowing as he watches you nearly succumb to a calm slumber.

He doesn’t want to frighten you.

The scared little deer you were. He couldn’t possibly break your window and startle you like that. How could he ever explain that he was here to help? That he could make you feel so good. — Instead he’s forced to watch as you restlessly shift on your bed, his lip twitching when he sees you slip a hand between your thighs.

God he can barely conceal his excitement. Watching as you rub your legs together, your eyes screwed shut. Dainty fingers slip beneath the cotton of your panties and your jaw slacks. Jungkook so desperately longs to hear you. He wants to absorb every little sound you make, he wants to swallow your moans with his lips on yours. He…

He slips a hand down his own pants, mindlessly groping his already hard cock, biting back a strained groan as he trains his gaze to you. — The glass of your bedroom window is dirty, it sabotages his vision, something that puts him off. But it doesn’t matter tonight, not when you’re touching yourself like that for him to see.

Jungkook tells himself that he will one day deal with it, that he will one day get to see you without that barrier of glass separating you. One day.

For now, the sight of you, sprawled out on your bed, face screwed into one of ecstasy as you slide two fingers in your slick cunt - that’s all he needs for now. And fuck, you’re gorgeous. Absolutely breathtaking. Jungkook knows he could make you feel absolutely delirious. He imagines his own fingers in your place. He imagines pushing them past your puffy folds, he imagines his inked knuckles getting covered in your arousal, in your love for him.

He wants nothing but to stuff you full with his cock. He’ll probably cum instantly, that wouldn’t matter, he’d still be hard, and he would make you take him as many times as he pleased. And oh you would love it. You would love him.

His hips buck against his hand, and Jungkook has to steady himself against the cold brick wall of your house. He knows you can’t hear the sinful and near animalistic growls currently being ripped from his chest, part of him wishes you did. He wants you to know how badly he needs you, how important you are to him, that only you can make him feel this way.

His fingers squeeze around his throbbing cock and he strokes himself with impatience, his lips parted as he watches your fingers spread yourself for him. Fuck he could cum untouched from the sight of you alone. — And when you flip over on your back, your thighs closing around your hand as your orgasm washes over you, he completely loses it.

With his forehead against the cold glass of your window, he finishes all over himself with a low moan, his breaths coming out jagged. It’s a warm buzz that surges through his entire body, his cock still rock hard in his hand as the images of you flood his mind, wrecking him entirely.

He emits a short breath, shaking his head, as if trying to find himself once more. Then he looks up, through dark and lidded eyes. — To his surprise, he finds you already watching him. And oh god, you look absolutely terrified.

Like a deer in headlights.

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leveragehunters · 2 years ago

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Downloading fanfic from AO3

I've been downloading a lot of fanfic lately for personal archival purposes, and I figured I'd share how I do it in case it's useful to anyone else (and so I have it written down in case I forget!).

There are lots of different ways to save fic, including the file download built into AO3, but I find that this gives me the nicest ebooks in the most efficient way.

(Under a cut cause long.)

Download Calibre: https://calibre-ebook.com/ or (clickable link).

Calibre is about the best ebook management and control program around and it's free. You can get it for windows, mac, and linux or download and run it from a portable storage device (I'm using a windows PC).

Install it and run it. It's gonna ask you where you want to put your library. Dealer's choice on this one. I recommend your internal drive (and then back up to external/cloud), but YMMV.

If you want to keep fanfic separate from the rest of your ebooks, you can create multiple libraries. I do, and my libraries are creatively named 'Books' and 'Fic'.

Customise Calibre

Now you're gonna install some plugins. Go to Preferences on the menu bar (far right), click its little side arrow, then choose 'Get plugins to enhance Calibre'.

At the top right of the box that pops up is 'Filter by name'. The plugins you want to get are:

EpubMerge

FanFicFare

Install them one at a time. It will ask you where you want them. I recommend 'the main bar' and 'the main bar when device is attached' (should be selected by default). When you're done, close and reopen Calibre.

The plugins you just installed should appear on the far right of the toolbar, but if you can't see one or both of them, fear not! Just click Preferences (the button, not the side arrow), then Toolbars and Menus (in the 'Interface' section) then choose the main toolbar from the drop down menu. That will let you add and remove things - I suggest getting rid of Donate, Connect Share, and News. That'll leave you room to add your new plugins to the menu bar.

(Do donate, though, if you can afford it. This is a hell of a program.)

Now you're ready to start saving your fave fanfic!

Saving fanfic

I'll go through both methods I use, but pick whatever makes you happy (and/or works best for what you're downloading).

ETA: if the fics are locked you can't easily use FanFicFare. Skip down to the next section. (It does ask for a username/password if you try and get a locked fic, but it's never worked for me - I had to edit the personal.ini in the configuration options, and even then it skips locked fics in a series.)

Calibre and FanFicFare

You can work from entirely within Calibre using the FanFicFare plugin. Just click its side arrow and pick from the menu. The three main options I use are download from URL, make anthology from a webpage, and update story/anthology.

Download from URL: pick Download from URL (or just click the FanFicFare button) and paste the fic's URL into the box (if you've copied it to your clipboard, it will be there automatically). You can do more than one fic at a time - just paste the URLs in one after the other (each on a new line). When you're done, make sure you have the output format you want and then go.

Make Anthology Epub From Web Page: if you want a whole series as a single ebook, pick Anthology Options, then Make Anthology Epub From Webpage. Paste the series URL into the box (if you've copied it to your clipboard, it will be there automatically), click okay when it displays the story URLs, check your output format and go.

Update series/anthology: if you downloaded an unfinished fic or series and the author updates, you can automatically add the update to your ebook. Just click on the ebook in Calibre, open the FanFicFare menu using its side arrow, and select either Update Existing FanFic Books or Anthology Options, Update Anthology epub. Okay the URLs and/or the output format, then go.

Any fic downloaded using FanFicFare will be given an automatically generated Calibre cover. You can change the cover and the metadata by right clicking on the title and picking edit metadata. You can do it individually, to change the cover or anything else specific to that ebook, or in bulk, which is great for adding a tag or series name to multiple fics. Make sure you generate a new cover if you change the metadata.

Browser plugins, Calibre, and EpubMerge

You can also use a browser addon/plugin to download from AO3. I use FicLab (Firefox/Chrome), but I believe there's others. FicLab: https://www.ficlab.com/ (clickable link).

FicLab puts a 'Save' button next to fic when you're looking at a list of fics, eg search results, series page, author's work list etc. Just click the 'Save' button, adjust the settings, and download the fic. You can also use it from within the fic by clicking the toolbar icon and running it.

FicLab is great if you're reading and come across a fic you want to save. It also generates a much nicer (IMO) cover than Calibre.

You can add the downloaded fic to Calibre (just drag and drop) or save it wherever. The advantage to dropping it into Calibre is that all your fic stays nicely organised, you can adjust the metadata, and you can easily combine fics.

Combining fics

You can combine multiple fics into an anthology using EpubMerge. This is great if you want a single ebook of an author's short fics, or their AUs, or their fics in a specific ship that aren't part of a series. (It only works on epubs, so if you've saved as some other format, you'll need to convert using Calibre's Convert books button.)

Select the ones you want to combine, click EpubMerge, adjust the order if necessary, and go.

The cover of the merged epubs will be the cover of the first fic in the merge list. You can add a new cover by editing the metadata and generating a new cover.

Combing with FanFicFare

You can also combine nonseries fics using FanFicFare's Make Anthology ePub from URLs option by pasting the individual fic URLs into the box.

Where there's more than a few fics, I find it easier to download them with FicLab and combine them with EpubMerge, and I prefer keeping both the combined and the individual versions of fic, but again YMMV.

Reconverting and Converting

Once I'm done fussing, I reconvert the ebook to the same format, to ensure everything is embedded in the file. Is this necessary? YMMV, but it's a quick and easy step that does zero harm.

If you don't want your final ebook to be an epub, just convert it to whatever format you like.

Disclaimers

Save fanfic for your own personal enjoyment/offline reading/safeguarding against the future. If it's not your fic, don't distribute it, or upload it to other sites, or otherwise be a dick. Especially if the author deletes it. Respect their wishes and their rights.

This may work on other fanfic sites, eg FFN, but I've never tried so I don't know.

If you download a fic, do leave the author a kudo or a comment; you'll make them so happy.

This is how I save fic. I'm not pretending it's the only way, or even the best way! This is just the way that works for me.

#fanfic #fic #ao3 #ficlab #calibre #fanficfare #epubmerge #downloading fanfic #adding the my fic tag so I can find this again #my fic

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forgottenphantom · 1 month ago

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Hey y'all! I have finished a very rough draft of my fic and wanted to see what thoughts or ideas could go into this first chapter! So anything that you like/dislike/would like to see, the air is free.

Update:

The sunlight made his skin tingle, a gentle warmth running through his body but almost felt like a poison that was trying to cure itself from his being. The flowers surrounding him gave off beautiful hues of blues and yellows, they danced softly to the breeze. His dark gloves cupped in front of him with a small bug resting, he couldn't remember what it was. Someone had told him.. Who was that… Them? Nine of them? Who were they again? Lifting his head as the group was far from him, were they just a mirage? One was waving at him. Closing his eyes as he felt himself fall back, awaiting the feeling of flowers to cushion him. Only to feel an icy cold wave crash over him.

Chains rattled from above his head, the pitter-patter of water dripping from the stone ceiling onto the floor. His head hung down as gravity pulled onto his muscles, his wrists aching as the metal braced into inky flesh. His shoulders burned, joints felt like they were dislocated out of the sockets as his fingers buzzed due to the loss of feeling. Feet dangling meters above the floor, his body was suspended. A wheeze broke the trance of the water dripping, his conscience slowly fading back in. The air was stale as it invaded his senses, his lungs constricting for any relief. The dark miasma wrapped its tendrils around his throat, squeezing against his windpipe before letting go. A warning of what is to come…?

His hat fell onto the ground.

Who put him here? … Demise.

A pained whine.

What is pulling at his skin? … It H̴͉͙͕́͒͠U̴̺͇̐R̷̮̤͊̑͂T̷̺̱͇͛͌͝Ś̶ͅ…

Heavy fog filled his mind.

Where did he lose this time? The echoes of a war…

The cries of soldiers stabbed his brain.

How did he get back here? He lost again…

A Goddess hum vibrating his bones.

Why is this his destiny? His purpose…

Death?

A groan rumbled through his chest as his eyes fluttered open, the glow of red piercing the darkness of his cell as his eyes groggily shifted around. Unable to focus his vision as he pried his head from gravity’s hold, his head loping to the side as the chains closest to his eyes had a red hue glowing off them. Freedom. Glancing around as his body dissipated into the shadows to escape from the freezing chains that caused his body discomfort, reforming on the ground as his body crumbled onto his knees and hands.

“Shit..” It felt like energy was being sapped out of him, even shifting into the shadows felt like a blinding light had slashed through him. His forehead rested against the cold floor as he racked his thoughts, his memory was walled up. He couldn't remember why he was placed here again, why this room again. He had to have failed, that was the one reason he was being punished. A hand patting himself down as a hiss left his lips once he touched his stomach, a soreness of a wound that was recently healing.

Holding back his tongue as his fingers grazed over the spot again, the stinging running down his spine as he slammed his head against the floor. A push against the psychological wall, a dam being broken as his nails dug into the spot. He was sliced down by that dawned sword… Nails broke the skin as each flare of pain brought more and more. Cia had summoned him to fight her war. Using him as a tool to defeat the Hero, using him as a shield to stop herself from falling. She treated him like a tool, like a puppet. Just like that Sage. Just like Veran.

SLAM…

His head slammed onto the ground. His lips curled as his eyes squeezed shut. He was just a puppet to them. Something for them to use over and over. A Sage learned about his existence and proceeded in using him as some sort of test for a damn Hero that the Goddess had graced. He was nothing but a test, he was just a pawn in the grand scheme. No one cared as his body was continuously stabbed through as his blood sprayed onto the ground, how the so-called Hero didn't take a second glance. All they cared about was that damn Triforce, not him. Not someone they killed.

SLAM..

Veran forced his body to split into four and used him for her own health, how the Hero sliced through him with ease in a weakened form.. He barely was healed from the last time and she had no regrets in using him, all to revive Ganon… Bullshit.

SLAM.

The Master sword sliced into him each time Cia forced his body to block her. She didn't care if he had fears or wishes. Each version of him burning into the next. The Hero looked down at him as his pitch-black blood fizzled off the sword, his curse being rejected. Even the Goddess knew he was nothing. He wanted to be something.

SLAM!

A tool. A tool. A tool. A tool. A tool. A too-

CRACK-

Stars lined his vision as he threw his body back, sitting up on his knees as his head was tilted up towards the chains that he was once suspended from. His eyes shifted left to right as he saw multiple sets, he must have overdone it this time.. His blood trickled down his face as laughter bubbled deep in him, his lips trembling as his cackling bounced off the walls. His hands reached up towards his heart, his fingers gripping onto his tunic. The cell around him warped to that dungeon, to the room with the lone tree. Endless water as his punishment for failing… He could hear the Heroes mocking him, laughing as his body was cut down. The Goddess burning his existence over and over, waiting to snuff out the last of his life. No one was in the cell but he swore there were pairs of eyes staring at him, five sets. Each set was staring with murderous intent. Footsteps echoed between his ears, twitching up towards the sounds with whale eyes. Five different Heroes surrounded him with their blades held high above his head.

Was this real? Was he imagining this? The Heros' mouths didn't move but they laughed. They screamed. They yelled. They cried. Did they know he was praying to the Goddesses that this was real? His lip wobbled as he closed his eyes, accepting his fate. Swallowing. Something burning the back of his eyes, he knew it wasn't blood. His hands trembled.

Why was he so afraid?

»»——— +=={:::::::::::::::::> ———««

The world was created by three Goddesses, each containing an incredible amount of power. Din, the creator of the mountains and valleys. Nayru, filling lakes and oceans with wisdom. Farore, placing life with courage to survive across the planet. They left room for other deities to form, one of light that was given the Triforce to protect, Hylia. But when there is light, there is darkness. The corners of the Earth shrouded in eternal suffering, The Demon King Demise. His corruption turned people and the lives on the land to turn onto each other, his own army slaughtering thousands for the taste of destroying the peace.

His existence flickered awake as Demise was being sealed away by Her, his eyes opening to the blue sky as the Goddess took her final breath.

»»——— +=={:::::::::::::::::> ———««

Dark Link kneeled before the destroyed throne, spots in the walls warped from different places as the Dark world's distortion became stronger. Bowing his head as his God gave him an unimaginable task. Attempting to conceal his expressions as he blinked, his eyes scattered around the floor. Surely he heard wrong, surely he didn't hear that Demise wanted him to take down nine different Heroes of the ages.

“Sir, how would I manage to attempt that? There are unimaginable amounts of timeliness to jump through. Not to ment-” His head rising up to be met with multiple large hands of concentrated malice, eyes barring deep into his as he could feel his own breath brushing against him. Able to see his own reflection, he was showing too much emotion. Swallowing his words as he tried to look past the threats, he never saw these before. Puddles of the concentrated power seeping around him as Demise grew more and more impatient. A cold bead of sweat sliding down his back as the hands circled around him, their eyes watching his every movement as the potent corrupted burned his legs.

“Do you dare question your God?! Do you believe I would give you an impossible task, Slave?” The voice boomed through the room, the ceiling shaking as pebbles rained from above, pelting him in the back as he held back coughing from the dust invading his airways. He could feel Demise's patience wearing thin, the Red Malice was seeping into the corners of the room. Smaller hands appearing. Somehow Demise was growing stronger by the minute.

“No-no Lord Demise, never. I just simply wan-” He sputtered as one of the hands grabbed his jaw, stopping his sentence. It's grip had no mercy, for it wasn't a creature that could think. He could feel his lower jaw cracking, his body instantly trying to repair it. ‘Fuck.’ He could only watch as Demise grew tired of him. He slipped up. He was going to die.

“Want? You suddenly want now?” A condescending tone. Mocking Dark Link, mocking something that can't have its own thoughts. “You have no wants, no worries, no fears. I created you as a puppet, a tool!” The hand that held his jaw threw him back as he rolled against the floor, his shoulder taking the blunt force. Biting his tongue as his stomach burned, gripping the spot as his head hung down. He didn't dare look up to see his Lord. The hair on the back of his neck prickling as the skin on his face healed shockingly slow, something about the Red Malice was not normal at all. “The Witch had put multiple Heroes on a quest together, that will be how you will take them down.” Dark didn't dare speak another word, he held his head down as he nodded. Demise would only continue this torment if he gave any more of a reaction, he had to hold himself together. “Failure will not be an option, if you return here without it. I will disassemble your very essence piece by piece. Understand, Dark?”

“... Understood, Master.”

#lu dark link #dark link #linkeduniverse #linked universe #loz #legend of zelda #wip #ao3 writer

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wingedshadowfan · 1 month ago

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⚠️arcane s2 act iii spoilers // caitvi ending commentary ⚠️

the difference between the last individual scenes of vi and caitlyn, and the one they shared actually made me sob, so here's my analysis of what it all meant

caitlyn is at home, in her family mansion in piltover. her monologue seems to be a messege or an archive for the kirammans or historians after her; she's also looking at the kiramman house files, a family heirloom, a symbol of her legacy and her station, a connection to her mother. she's perhaps searching for something needed in order to start rebuilding the city, perhaps checking if jinx could still be somewhere out there, maybe even seeing what ekko saw about the undercity's vents and water ducts. she still seems to have purpose, or to be in search of one for herself.

vi is also in caitlyn's house in piltover, but she's not with caitlyn. in a city not her own, in a house not her own, it seems she's chosen to sit in a room alone with her thoughts, staring at the fireplace. we hear her humming the tune to a song her mother used to sing, the same one jinx was humming when we first saw her this season - vi's small comfort, the faintest memory from those before her, and nothing to leave to those after her. no roots and no legacy. she's grieving everyone and everything she's lost. stripped of will and void of purpose.

caitlyn is excited to hear vi humming a song. we don't know how long it's been since the war ended, but this implies she hasn't been doing much other than sitting by herself in silence in quite some time. she's become a shell of herself, and caitlyn is worried - she's there for her but doesn't want to push her either. she asks her if she's "still in the fight", and this is a loaded question that i can see two main meanings in - one notably sadder.

1) are you still in there?

what part of you is left, and is it strong enough to keep fighting this state you're in? do you have it in you to keep going? do you have the will to live in spite of it all? is there any fight left in you? are you still with me, or are you just in the room?

and i feel like caitlyn knows the answer but wants to hear it from vi, check in on her and encourage her to open up if she's feeling ready to. because she heard her humming to herself.

and when vi says she's the dirt under caitlyn's nails, she doesn't mean it in a cute, flirty or romantic way. she means it in a self-deprecating "i know i'm not being easy right now" kind of way.

i'm not fun to be around, to have to take care of and wait around for. i'm making things harder for you and i'm holding you back by not cooperating and just getting better. i can't help it.

and she adds onto this, "nothing's ever gonna clean me out"

you're stuck with me. i'm a nuisance to you but i can't leave you because you're all i have left. i think i'm lost and broken beyond repair. i'm crooked. i think i'll never be okay again.

2) have you given up on zaun?

are you still in on fighting the system? have you given up on trying to make others see your people for who you are? do you still have hope in the dream for unity and freedom for zaun?

it sounds like caitlyn does, and she's still up for it, just like she was in the latter half of the first season, before jinx kidnapped her, tried to get vi to kill her, and blew up the counsil building just as its members were about to vote for zaun's sovereignty, killing caitlyn's mother. but caitlyn can't do it on her own - it's vi's home, vi's people, vi's identity - and she needs to know if vi still believes they can change something.

and when vi says she's the dirt under caitlyn's nails, she doesn't literally mean caitlyn, or herself. she means the opposing poles they represent - piltover and zaun, oppressor and oppressed, a pristine policewoman and a crooked criminal. until piltover's view of the undercity and its people changes, zaun will always be a torn in its side, fighting it, defying it, trying to free itself from its clutches. small, perhaps insignificant, an inconvenience, but a part of it that it can't get rid of or erase. it'll always be there, it'll always fight back.

and when she says nothing's ever gonna clean her out, she means she'll never be bent out of shape and lose that part of herself - the ugly, dirty, raggedy part that grew up on the streets of zaun and was raised among all the tragedy, misery and poverty of the undercity. a product of the system. she'll never let that be "washed out" of her, she won't forget her origin or her goals. this is who she is, her identity - not just in the eyes of piltover, but in her own heart - a zaunite.

EDIT: i also saw this interpretation on tiktok if you're interested. to summarize: there's a spanish saying "like nails and dirt" which is used to refer to two people who are inseparable, so this is a testimony of vi's love for caitlyn having given her reason to keep going and stay by her.

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realmermaid333 · 1 year ago

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A Guide to Using the "Inspired By" Function on AO3

The "inspired by" function allows writers to display fanfics that inspired their own fanfic neatly in the "notes" section via a link. It is used to credit inspiration, for archival purposes, and also for translations, remixes, and podfics.

It is a very fun function because it encourages community, and even gives your readers something else to read while they wait for your own fic to update. It can help people who really like a certain trope or writing idea easily find another fic just like it. And, if you use the function, the writer you are inspired by can choose to link it back to their own fic. So, at the end of their fic it will say, "works inspired by this one," and list yours.

"How can I tell if I should use the "inspired by" function or not?"

You should use the inspired by function if you are directly inspired by another fic. I have done this twice, and it is splendid. One of my besties and I have fics that are attached by this function. It's like they're holding hands via "inspired by" links :' )

If you read a fic, and at the end you're like, "Wow, this was totally radical, and now my gears are turning with an idea just like this one, but I'm gonna add my own spin to it." That would be a moment that calls for the "inspired by" function.

A situation that doesn't call for the inspired by function is two fics that are similar in trope, but the second one was not inspired by the first. For example; let's say person A writes a coffee shop AU fic, which is a very common trope, and person B also writes one, but without having ever read person A's fic, or without directly getting the idea directly from person A. Person B was not inspired by person A.

Let's say person B did read the fic, then also eventually decided to write a coffee shop AU that was completely different, and had very little in common with A's fic. That would not be a moment where the "inspired by" function would be necessary. B could use their own judgement to gauge how inspired they were by A's fic.

But, let's say person B really, really loved person A's fic, and wanted to show everyone another coffee shop AU. Person B very well could still use the "inspired by" function just to have the link. Or, they could just link the fic in their "Notes" section, but i personally think the inspired by function is a little easier than creating a "notes" link on ao3 LOL.

However, I have seen some people just list a fic they are inspired by in the notes section without any issues, but I encourage people to use the inspired by function. If you're unsure, maybe ask the author that you're inspired by if they care. If you ever don't use the "inspired by" function, and step on another writer's toes, just simply talk it out and credit.

"But, Mermaid, if I use the "inspired by" function, won't it look like my fic belongs to the original person?"

No?? I am including this because I've seen a surprising amount of people say this and it bugs me. If you use the "inspired by" function, it links the fic you were inspired by in the "notes" section in first chapter. That's it. It doesn't say, "this fic belongs to this other writer," lol. It says, "Inspired by (insert fic) by (insert author)," one single time. After that, it will not be listed in future chapters. Your name will always be on it, and it will only be listed on your account like usual.

To conclude, you should use the "inspired by" function if you are directly inspired by another person's fic. if you're not, then don't use it. Easy peasy. I encourage its use because it's very fun, it is part of fandom etiquette to use it when needed, it allows people to recommend fics similar to theirs, credit another person's idea they used, etc.

#inspired by #inspired by function #ao3 #using ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 stuff #ao3 etiquette #archive of our own #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic writer #fanfiction writer

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luviestarz · 1 year ago

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choi beomgyu fic recs!

✿ a night to remember — choi beomgyu - @jeontaeil-archived (beomgyu takes you out on a lovely date to his old workplace and after hours of having fun, neither of you are quite satisfied. too impatient to wait till you get back home, or to his car in the least, you don’t think twice before getting down and dirty right then and there. at the end of the day, how many people can proudly admit that they’ve fucked in a trampoline park?)

✿ airport crush | choi beomgyu NSFW - @boba-beom (while waiting 4 hours for your next flight, you see a cute guy at the airport and decide to kill some time.)

✿ a star called you | c.bg - @scintillasofbeomgyu (yn and their friends run the campus radio for which yn is the host of the evening show “dear sputnik”, where they share stories and hope to create a healing space for all students— even though many don’t listen to it. little does yn know, their biggest fan, angel313, is choi beomgyu— the boy they’ve silently had a crush on for the past four years.)

✿ nap of a star - @blue-jisungs (you’re taking a nap on your friend’s lap)

✿ sk8ter boi -> c.b - @gyusrose (you never thought in a million years to be attracted to a boy like beomgyu. His baggy clothes, scrappy shoes, long hair just wasn’t a click with your elegant dresses, tight skirts, ballet dancer- self , but somehow he managed to steal your attention.)

✿ stoner!bestfriend!beomgyu x fem!reader - @universecorp (as much as beomgyu tries to deny falling in love with you, even after he claimed you saved him from believing his whole purpose of life was to be bad luck, his heart cannot tell a lie.)

✿ honeymoon - @beomsight (thoughts about how you and bf!beomgyu are in that honeymoon phase where you’re constantly all over each other)

✿ who’s home? - @iknowyuu (reader's guardians unexpectedly come home in the middle of a cuddle session.)

✿ sweet. - @tyunlatte (beomgyu is whipped for the reader, that's it. that's the plot. just something short and sweet to make your hearts ache.)

✿ who’s that girl! - @h00nerz (after coming home from vacation to discover your boyfriend of over a year cheating on you, you find yourself to be in search of a new place to live. lucky for you, your friend’s cousin is moving across the state, leaving a room open that’s yours for the taking. the only problem? it means you would be staying with three guys.)

✿ a lost bet! - @heart2beom (you lose a bet to beomgyu and out of everything you'd think he'd ask of you -- money, to pour freezing water on yourself out in the snow, hell, you thought it'd be more likely for him to ask you to jump off a cliff and survive than telling you to take him out on a date.)

✿ strawberry kisses - @tyunlatte (when you accepted your boyfriend's sweet request to do his makeup, you weren't expecting the fiery turn that your little makeup session was going to take)

✿ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 - @sungbeam (gamer/streamer!choi beomgyu x f!reader)

✿ call you later - @heart2beom (beomgyu swears women fall at his feet and he's in fact, single by choice—what better way to prove this to you than collecting the numbers of random people on the street?)

✿ forever only you. - @mazeinthemoon (when an old friend draws your attention away from your boyfriend, he can’t help but get jealous)

✿ [🐯] i got you - @qqtxt (the best parts of beomgyu's morning always involve you)

✿ white dress - @fairyyeo (i recommend reading this!!!! pls go read its so good)

✿ photobooth. - @ev3rm0re-q (even though you and beomgyu have been together for three months, you two have yet to share a kiss. on his day off, the two of you venture outside and come across a photo booth. perhaps a few pictures might finally motivate the both of you to take action.)

✿ tokyo - choi beomgyu - @beomie3 (the neon-lit towers which surround you are mighty bright. but in his eyes, you shine brightest. the adventures of two lovers in tokyo. ~coming of age film~ vibes.)

✿ strawberry chapstick | choi beomgyu - @lluringli

593 notes · View notes

jisokai · 4 months ago

Text

If a tree falls (does it bring you to tears?)

Early in their journey, the Strawhats come across an unusual island, where a beast has been stranded—with you.

Set right before Enies Lobby.

strawhats x GN reader, slight romantic nami x reader Life of Pi and Haruki Murakami-inspired, reader lives in a floating tree, loss of home/habitat destruction, reader is a friend to animals, queerplatonic relationship-building with everyone basically 7.7k words | oneshot, complete

ao3 option

notes: this was my first fic when i started writing again recently so it has a special place in my heart even though it's pretty rough imo <3 definitely niche so i'm mostly posting it here for archive purposes. + the timeline for this is so nonexistent, i promise it's better for everyone if you don't think about it + there's some background/implied frobin

Distance. Space. Atmosphere.

Life at sea means many days of drifting into nothingness, waiting for a figure to appear in the distance to follow. Drifting usually starts as a peaceful pause between events, crew members taking time to find their strength for the next piece of their journey. But as the days drag on, quiet stillness turns to impatient irritation. There’s an itch for chaos, a fight, change. Not seeing land for days, weeks even, unsettles them.

But no matter their skepticism, they always trust Nami. Nami who has never failed them in knowing how to bring them to where they have to be, oftentimes a destination they were not aware of.

In the blue of the vast beyond is a speck, also blue from the space that sits between said speck and the Going Merry. Nami frowns when she sees it. Normally specks have a spread to them if they’re a landform, a long but narrow shape that appears all at once. The alternative is a ship, which usually has a particular proportion between its length and width. However, this speck is tall . So tall it disappears into the clouds. And it’s narrow. It isn’t perfectly straight, a little wobbly-looking from this distance. Glancing around her workspace, Nami locates her telescope, grabs it by the base, and gently kicks the door open to make her way out to the lower deck.

“Usopp,” she calls as she walks to the stairs. Usopp looks up from his seat near Luffy and Chopper curiously. Nami cocks her head to the upper deck where she plans to set her telescope, turning and walking along. The sniper pouts at the lack of explanation, but rises with a sigh to meet her.

Still too far away to be discernible, two figures lounge together dozens of stories in the air. One nestles itself into the soft warmth of the other’s fur. The other swishes its tail in contentment. It huffs, yawns with its tongue out, then blinks and lowers its head to sleep.

“It’s a tree.”

“It can’t be a tree.”

“Well what else could it be!? Through your telescope it even looks like there’s a branch.”

“Trees can’t grow in salt water. Besides, there’s no land for it to attach to. You think it just floats around? It would topple over!”

“This is the Grand Line, Nami. In Skypiea you could swim in a cloud in the sky. What’s a floating saltwater tree compared to that?”

“Then this is a tree growing higher than the clouds, Usopp. From sea level.”

That does sound ridiculous, he can admit.

“It’s a tree,” Nami groans the next day. Overnight the ship traveled significantly closer to the speck, now a more complicated looking blob that becomes much clearer with the telescope. Through the lens she can see the edge between the tree and sky clearly. Moss and vines are apparent now, too. Odd lumps reveal themselves to be knots and welts where limbs once were. There aren’t many branches in view, the canopy likely condensed in the clouds.

Usopp snickers next to her, “and you dared question the great sniper Usopp!”

Luffy interjects while she punches Usopp in the back of the head. “What’s a big tree doin’ in the middle of the ocean? It get lost like Zoro?”

“I don’t know,” she responds softly, questioning. She thinks Robin may have ideas, but after asking for her thoughts they still don’t have adequate guesses.

“Trees have quite massive root systems. It’s possible that this one’s go deep in the water and have anchored to something below. Or maybe the distribution of weight keeps it upright. Either way I couldn’t guess how it got here.” All Nami can do is sigh in response.

Without verbalizing it, the Strawhats are in agreement that the tree is their next stop. It falls in line with the route they were already traveling, and the crew never turns down a sidequest. Especially not after nearly a week without touching land. Nami figures they could make contact in less than two days with the winds coming in.

Intense winds make the branches rustle. Smaller twigs break off and fall into the marsh below. The bird chatter dies as they nestle themselves into crevices of bark. Rodents scurry the length of the tree to find refuge in clumps of leaf and sticks. There’s a stillness hanging in the air, one thick with moisture. The sign of a storm. The two figures make their way down, finding their dwelling in the base of the tree. This is how it goes. Creatures live in one tree, but live like nomads as the microclimates change with weather and time. They read the signs. They are ready.

A storm delays their arrival by another day. Nami isn’t sure how she misread the sky patterns, but it isn’t unusual for the Grand Line. She’s frustrated but she knows her reading will improve with time.

The sunlight begins to touch the water and the clouds begin to part when the Merry gently rocks while approaching the tree. The root systems span a wide diameter, serving as the base for marsh and wetland conditions. Lush grasses and shrubs emerge on the roots above the water, while the ones below are fuzzy with algae. Minnows weave through their habitats between the root structures. Bunches of lily pads and mosses part as the Merry charges forward, scraping the woven foundation of the tree.

The vibrations are noticed by the creature sleeping at the base. It wakes, rises with a careful shift of bones, and slowly makes its way outside to scout. The other remains asleep.

Nami and Sanji are the only ones awake on board. The navigator feels a deep relief at having made it, tired from surprises from the past few days. The cook rose earlier to begin the preparation of breakfast. He meets her on the deck to confirm their arrival. He’s already fawning too much and insisting he can moor the boat for her. It irritates her but she lets him do it if it means a break from his attention for a few minutes.

She does, however, step out onto the…shore with him. She’s curious about this land—this organism that became its own land. She wonders what lives here, what kind of life blooms in such isolation. If anyone else has set foot here.

Sanji becomes a distant sound as her eyes take in the landscape, the seascape. Nami feels a sense of security at the base of such a massive presence. As she looks up, the tree extends endlessly into the sky, asserting its height and wisdom. It withstood a storm with ease, now standing calmly in the water. Still.

A rustling sound brings her gaze back in front of her and she feels her stomach drop. All security she felt is now gone.

A lion.

A golden, massive cat is before her. It’s beautiful, with a mane that sticks up like streaks of grass. Its color is saturated, a deep gold unlike the pale yellow she associates with these beasts. It’s crouched within the overgrown vegetation. She realizes it’s stalking her. She’s alone. Sanji is less than a hundred paces away, but she can’t get herself to call out to him. Afraid it’ll trigger the lion’s instincts.

But Sanji, ever the sense for a woman in distress, turns to her after the mooring is complete. His voice dies out as he registers her panic and immediately moves on instinct. In the moment he takes a few steps her way, the lion creeps forward one. He easily closes the distance between himself and his crewmate, reaching to move towards the animal when a voice calls out.

“Hin,” it says. Firm. Meaningful.

The lion blinks, ears twitch. It rises to its full height and waves its tail, but it doesn’t break its gaze with Nami and Sanji.

They hear more footsteps. Nami takes her chances by moving her gaze from the beast and to the origin of the sound. She sees you.

You are what she least expected to see in this environment. A person, firstly. Specifically a person with a grounded presence, purposeful. Dirtier than herself, as to be expected. But stable. Sure of yourself. And unwelcoming, eyes on alert as you scan Nami and Sanji’s faces, take in the exchange occurring before you decided to intervene.

She’s not sure how to proceed, especially alone with Sanji while everyone else is sleeping on the Merry. Her instincts are alert, but less with run hide fight and more with determination to prevent Sanji from escalating things. She can sense the new tension in him after having a glance at you, gearing up her fist to punch him swiftly as soon as he begins: “Oh wow! What pleasure do I have to—”

She feels that these first moments are crucial. She hasn’t felt an intensity like this since journeying with Vivi in the deserts of Alabasta. Something about an unknown landscape holding people who are lost, looking for something. Adding to the map of their own lives. She feels that from you. Wants to participate.

She smiles nervously. “Sorry, we don’t mean any trouble. We’ve been sailing for days and saw this tree along the way. We figured it’d be a good place to reset before getting back on the water.” There’s no reaction after she pauses. She adds, “We’re just hoping to spend a night or two here, maybe find some food, explore if you’ll let us. We really don’t mean any harm.”

There’s a moment where she panics, wondering if there’s a language barrier she wasn’t prepared for. But you look like you understand her words. Still on guard, but opening to curiosity. You look towards the lion again.

“Hin,” you say, just as firm. The beast turns to you as you cock your head to the side, away from Nami. The animal turns slowly, looks back at the pair of pirates, and walks its way back to you. The exchange is not unlike the way Nami called for Usopp the other day.

After an excruciating silence you finally respond to her: “Who are you and how did you find us?”

Nami explains briefly that they’re pirates, but not the bad kind. You don’t seem to care either way, or at least until she repeats that they simply stumbled upon this tree while sailing to their next destination. It wasn’t intentional, or even on the map. She adds that they were just at Long Ring Long Land, but it makes you frown further in confusion.

It only takes a moment for you to remember the original implied request by Nami. You nod briefly, “It’s fine. You can stay for a few days.”

Nami sighs in relief, thankful to not experience your rejection or have one of their crew resort to violence to persuade you.

“But on my terms,” you add.

Nami grimaces, already imagining the way Luffy would violate every possible term you could propose. But she nods again, hopeful.

It’s not so bad, it turns out. You help them choose a better spot to moor the Merry and secure it in place with Nami while Sanji returns aboard to prepare breakfast. You’re gentle and helpful, but Nami still feels a slight intimidation. She assumes it’s at least partly from the massive predator watching her every move. While she’s curious, she avoids asking too many questions since Robin will ask them again later.

Luffy is still sleepy when he wakes and is quickly fed, which helps to keep him subdued. He does immediately fall into the water upon leaving the ship, leaning too far forward while looking at the roots in the water, and has to be surfaced by an annoyed Zoro. You show the crew around the marshy base of the tree and the small room you’ve made out of a particularly twisty bundle of roots. You then demonstrate to them how you make your way around: a system of vines and pulleys and weights that makes Zoro wince at its overcomplicated nature. Luffy bypasses this by shooting his arm towards the next branch and sweeps everyone into his other arm as he pulls himself in the air.

You then show them your gardening space by the second branch. A particularly odd twist in the tree’s trunk creates a series of small hills that drain into a pond. Lush rows of planted crops are growing, some bearing fruit or vegetables. You explain that they can have some of the fresh fruit and vegetables, but that they’ll mostly have to take preserves. But you're also willing to help them forage for other foods—the varying climates of the different branches offering a sizable variety.

Before Sanji can blurt out a nonsensical compliment and Luffy can grab a handful of whatever’s closest, you state firmly, “In exchange for my food and docking here for a few days, you will abide by these rules: you must keep your disruption to the other animals to a minimum, including killing and eating them. You also can’t damage the tree or the environments on it.”

Luffy immediately begins to pout while Sanji blabbers that he will make you the finest vegetarian cuisine in exchange for your hospitality. The others just nod in affirmation. Except for Zoro.

“You some tree guardian or somethin’?” he asks.

You huff, amused. “It’s complicated.”

It doesn’t turn out to be that complicated, just a long story that Luffy nods off to. You try to be brief, explain that you were on a research trip to study an island near your home in the South Blue. A storm came, swept you away to wake up cradled in the salty roots of the massive tree. You thought you were dead, especially after turning and making eye contact with Hin, one of the lions from the island that had been tagged for research. At the very least if you weren’t dead, you assumed you would be shortly. It was a delicate dance of asserting authority that became a sort of skeptic symbiosis. Lions are hard to read. Some days he looks at you with an intensity that registers as keep your distance , others you’ll comfort each other through a cold night. You think the mutual loss of prior kinship contributes to the unconventional relationship, but you’re still aware he could end your life at any moment he wanted. Even though he hasn’t in the past five years of opportunity.

Usopp shudders and mumbles to himself while attempting to spot said creature below, “I just don’t get why you’d keep a giant predator around. Push him in the water or something.”

Robin intervenes. “The South Blue? That must mean the tree is floating through the ocean. You’ve never touched land since arriving? I’d imagine the currents and winds would bring you to shore at some point.”

You just shake your head, having the same assumptions.

“That means you passed through the calm belt,” Nami realizes. “How would something like this get through there?”

Again you don’t know. You don't even know what the Calm Belt means. You’ve long since resigned the impossibility of things to the great mystery of the world. Plants and animals you can study, get familiar with and build knowledge (though they’re impossible in their own smaller ways). Matters of nonsensical geology and weather patterns were beyond the understanding of a single person.

You notice Zoro and Luffy are like that too. They don’t seem to mind that there are things they’ll never know. They just want to nap or swing through the branches. You notice that others in their crew see mysteries as the reason to keep going. Robin’s fascination and Nami’s confusion motivate them to take action and find answers. You notice that the rest are preoccupied with something else entirely. A sense of duty to a purpose. You notice it’s more of an alignment chart than it is a system of categories.

While you feel surrounded by great mysteries, you do know that you miss home. You resigned to never having the opportunity to return, so it was a safe longing that didn’t inspire you to take action, to take risk. You realize that while these pirates all have different means of navigating their mysteries, they’re taking a risk together. Some don’t see it as a risk as much as a necessity. You wonder how hard that decision was for them to make. You realize that you now have to make a decision of your own. There’s no rush, you have a few days to mull it over. A few days isn’t nearly enough time, but it’s a small comfort.

You help them explore the length of the tree and at night help Sanji prepare a meal at the top of the crown. He’s unfamiliar with some of the ingredients and you explain what you know of their flavors and best methods of preparation. You’re a mediocre cook, but the information is helpful regardless. Chopper asks you about your knowledge of their medicinal properties. You tell him that you can share your notes and show him how to care for them if he wants to take any with him when they leave.

Nami makes a complicated face. “You… you’re staying here?”

You think about your mom and your sister. Your dad. Close friends, other researchers. The rest of the world that exists out there. You think about Hin and all the life you’ve made intricate relationships with.

“I don’t know,” you say.

The sun falls through the clouds while everyone eats their meal. Sanji has to prevent Luffy from grabbing stray birds that linger in the canopy after he finishes his plate. The clouds turn pink, orange, red, a twinge of purple. As the sky fades into its deep sleepy blue, you remember your third rule.

“Don’t go in the water after sunset.”

Usopp makes a “huh?” sound while Robin excitedly asks why.

“It’ll eat you alive.”

Despite Usopp’s worries, the Merry is fine the next day. He was torn between being too afraid to sleep in the boat out of fear he would also dissolve in his sleep, and wanting to be with her in case anything happened. He felt sick to his stomach watching you demonstrate a few clippings of your hair turn into nothingness. Luffy thought it was awesome and Nami thought Robin looked the happiest she’s been in over a week.

When the sun rises you share your herbal notes with Chopper and your accounts on the island with Robin. You’re embarrassed at the personal nature of some of your entries, but figure the details would be forgotten eventually after she leaves. You notice your internal monologue is assuming you’re staying again. Luffy’s new favorite activity is to swing through the tree branches in a one-sided race with the monkeys, but Zoro spends his day strength training at the bottom out of fear that Luffy will fall and drown himself. Nami explores with Sanji, attempting to create a map while the cook forages. Usopp is forced to tag along to be Nami’s buffer.

The whole day Hin is clingy, more affectionate than usual. It makes Chopper nervous that the lion is hanging around you all day, but Hin barely acknowledges him. You aren’t sure whether it’s because of the visitors or if it’s triggered by something else.

The Strawhats decide they’ll want to stay a couple more nights. Usopp thinks he can gather material to do some decent maintenance on the Merry and get her in a confident position with some time. You’re glad you get a little longer to be in their presence. You can’t help but notice that the decision is already made: that you can’t leave. But maybe a few more days will convince you otherwise. Hin still won’t leave your side.

On what the Strawhats decide is their last full day with you, an unexpected storm rages through. You show them how you wait them out at the base of the tree, a secure place with less wind and more distance from lightning. The storm is pretty average until there’s one particular strike of lightning that radiates through the entire length of the tree. Your heart drops as you feel a splintering sound resonating through your entire body. It’s paired with a short period of deafness that ends just before there’s a massive splashing sound. The base of the tree rocks, lurches upwards with your stomach and then slams back into the water. There’s the chattering of birds, howls of monkeys, buzzing of insects all moving away. In the distance.

In all your time on this floating ecosystem, you have witnessed animal migration. Some birds leave for a season, others never return. New insects appear out of the blue along with grasses and fruits and fish. The nature of a groundless entity puts it in constant range of new variables, new lives that come and go for varying lengths of time.

Never has there been a mass evacuation of life.

When you run outside the sky is still pouring. A mist simultaneously rises from the ocean and you’re immediately drenched. There is no canopy to shelter the rain. The tree has fallen. Your livelihood, all your relationships and meaning, plummeted in the ocean. It’s still afloat, a mile onwards into the mist of the sea. But it’s gone. It will never be upright again. You can tell by the way the bottom is shredded, splintered into a million pieces. You’ve never seen growth below the second branch, no watershoots to suggest the tree could embrace a new trunk.

Even if there was a chance for survival, it wasn’t in your lifetime. It would take hundreds if not thousands of years for there to be even a fraction of the biodiversity that occupied this space seconds ago. You know the world is a cruel place. After days of resigning yourself to staying, with no temptation towards a life-long journey of returning home, you are forced to realize it is the only way forward. You immediately entertain dying here. It hurts to imagine Hin dying with you.

Your brain moves a mile a minute, contemplating sending Hin with the pirates to their next island. Let him try to rebuild his life while you die with yours.

You feel his presence beside you. It’s cold. He steps forward.

The memory of his affections is distant as you watch him. His steps hold intent, they do not waver. You call for him in your mind. Turn back. At least look back at me. You can’t stop him, can’t even call out to him, knowing that nothing will change his mind. He marches onwards. You know that you cannot follow.

The Strawhats stay another day.

You have to go with them. It’s the clear decision, has been since their arrival. You deny it, have been denying it despite it waving obviously in your face. You hate the clarity that this was inevitable. Hin’s affections replay through your mind. He knew too. He was prepared before the storm came, the moment the pirates stepped foot on your land, before they spotted your tree on their ship. Even the Strawhats knew, Nami’s confusion the first night resurfacing in your memory.

It’s unfair, so unfair. You spent five years building something, finding your niche and your way to coexist in such a rich and unique environment. Again you remember your mom, your sister. You remember the injustice you felt when you first washed up in the basket of roots in the ocean face to face with the king of the jungle.

Chopper is helping you salvage the remaining flora you can find to propagate on the ship. You have a library of seeds still mostly intact that Sanji moves to a room in the Merry for you. Robin collects your journals and works with Nami to dry out the ones that were damaged in the storm. Luffy is excited to have you aboard. Usopp comforts you poorly and Zoro doesn’t even try. You appreciate all of it, but simultaneously seethe with anger.

Nami checks in with you after doing what she can with the books.

“I can’t fight,” you admit out of nowhere. A thought that had been sitting in your throat in a way that made it hard to swallow. Until Nami appeared and it leaped without warning.

She smiles softly. “It’s okay. I wasn’t much of a fighter either. Still not compared to the others.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to fight.” You did when you were little, with your peers and your family. You fight yourself these days.

“It doesn’t matter. You’ll be plenty of help no matter what.”

You look at her suspiciously and shake your head. Your eyes naturally travel down and towards the ship, the bundles of leaves from the tangerine trees and the early stages of their fruit. You speak without thinking again.

“You know if you pruned your tangerines better you could yield at least double your fruit.”

Nami smiles brightly.

You have fantasies of the tree growing back. In a few thousand years time there will be a new ecosystem flourishing. A new mixture of life will grow and fauna will migrate and emigrate in stages, cycles. It’s a beautiful, hopeful vision that keeps your heart lukewarm as you feel the coldness of abandonment.

You’re the last one on board the Merry. Before you go you take a long look at the remnants of what was once your home. The trunk split just before the curve that you made your garden, preserving the collections of your life artifacts. Over the past few days the length of the tree up to its canopy has drifted significantly into the distance. You can vaguely see it in the water, just an inch or so below the surface with small branches breaking through the surface. Of course it’s drifting in the opposite direction of where the Strawhats are going next.

When you raise your foot off the island and onto the first step of the Merry, you hear a bubbling and rippling behind you. When you turn you see the collection of roots and stump begin to sink into the ocean's depth.

A pain flares in your chest. You march towards your room, slam the door, lock it. Sob into your pillow.

Grief is funny. It’s also gut wrenching. You think it might be the only constant in your life. In the next few days on the Merry you’re too blinded by yours to see that it’s a constant in everyone else’s. The Strawhats all have their own special dance with loss, ones that make them annoying about yours. It takes a while to realize they’re offering you what they need. You try to offer it back, communicate your own preferences. Some get it better than others.

Chopper is the one you find yourself around the most. Your trades coincide and you learn from one another. You teach Chopper about what you were able to salvage and start growing on the Merry. It begins your healing process in a painful way, one that constantly reminds you of what you lost. But it helps you preserve it, transform it, share its beauty with others and make it immortal—something you never imagined. Chopper shows you his own collection of herbs and medicinals, and then the ones he’s attempting to grow on the ship. He explains his process and concerns. You suggest some maintenance strategies and offer to work with his plants to see what works best for them. He looks so happy.

It’s comforting to have an animal presence. You haven’t communicated with people in so long that you’ve forgotten how to read them. Your speech is awkward too, having written to yourself for the past few years and rarely communicated orally with words. You realize your response time is often delayed and that conversation doesn’t run smoothly. But you can understand Chopper’s behaviors, his little mannerisms and particular looks. You get the sense that it’s unsettling to him, but he appreciates it once he’s used to it. Some days when you’re working together not a single word makes its way between you two. But it’s healing. Familiar.

You find yourself on edge around Sanji. He’s an overbearing presence in your grief, one that drives him to constantly check on you and offer you comforts. It’s irritating. You sometimes think that he’s trying to catch you off guard and see you at your weakest. You aren’t sure what makes you think that, maybe because you struggle to differentiate when he’s offering you comfort or making a pass at you.

One day in the far future it’ll make sense. You’ll learn things about him that will make you want to ensure you’re there for him every moment of the day. But for now you try to recognize this as his way of showing love and care. You wonder why it has to look like this. You embrace it as best you can, offer some constructive comments so the benefits go both ways.

“If you make me my comfort foods all the time they won’t have the same effect every time I eat them.”

An unreadable expression passes through his face before he begins to apologize. You don’t let him.

“It’s okay, I appreciate your efforts. I want to eat your food though, too.”

His face immediately flushes and he vows to serve you his finest cuisines. It’s too much, you can’t look at him when he thinks so highly of you. You look down at your meal and finish it quietly.

You’re not ready to say goodbye to the Going Merry.

When the time comes and Luffy’s decision is made, you can’t stomach the argument, the fight that occurs outside. Robin’s gone too and you’re trying to sort out how you’ll relocate the plants, preserve the seeds and your library. Fixating on plans is how you distract yourself, trick your brain into moving forward instead of spiraling in on itself.

You want to reach out to Usopp, tell him you understand and that it’s unfair. But you don’t understand, will never feel for the Merry what Usopp does. The Merry was your last resort, and not even what you put above dying. For Usopp the Merry was a gift. A treasure offered by a childhood partner and a reflection of himself, his potential. A potential rejected by his closest friends.

As you predicted, you’re useless throughout Water 7 and Enies Lobby. You’re quick on your feet, can work out a plan pretty quickly. You’re able to diffuse some tense moments, even if your mediation feels surface level. But you can’t fight—or rather, can’t get yourself to fight. It’s okay in the end. You—your crew—win(s).

Even so, you can’t find a moment of peace. There’s another crew member—one that’s loud and a little tactless but you don’t want to judge prematurely, especially after seeing the way Robin looks at him. You can’t stomach this feeling that you overstepped, saw too much too soon in both Usopp and Robin’s lives that you were never meant to know. You have the gall to apologize, Usopp first because he’s less intimidating.

He looks at you sheepishly but brushes it off easily. “It’s bound to happen, ya know? How do you think I felt watching your whole home-tree thing and friend disappear a few days after meeting you?”

He makes a fair point, even as he rambles on about how he’s fine and that he’s too great to be held back by things like that. It takes him a second to realize his potentially offensive implications of the way you’ve dealt with your loss, but you know enough about the sniper by now to understand what he’s trying to communicate.

You tell him that you would be sad too. You briefly relate it to your own feelings as of late. You tell him that if he ever wants company that you’re there for him.

His eyes well with tears as he sputters and scoffs. He turns away from you to wipe his eyes as he tries to flip the script and offer you a shoulder to cry on. The next day he’s in your greenhouse-office and you make him a blend of herbal tea as he shares with you his favorite moments on the Merry. You believe him. You have no other choice. It offers the opportunity to learn about the people you’re cohabitating with, how they came together and what brought them here now.

You’ll cross check the validity later with Nami, but for now you believe every word Usopp says. It’s what he needs from you for his healing.

You find yourself frustrated with Robin. Every attempt you’ve made at conversation with the goal of delivering your apology gets hijacked by a slew of questions for you. You think it may be like your own tendency to organize and plan to distract yourself: Robin takes in information to preoccupy her mind. For you to apologize would be to recognize what happened to her and admit that you were a witness. At some point that exchange will assist her healing, but for now you entertain her curiosities and hope that Franky is able to reach her.

You and Nami have the opposite relationship. Something about her makes you too quick to admit your feelings, even when her questions have nothing to do with them. It’s what let your guard down when she first set foot on your island and what had you sharing your insecurities before you came aboard. You don’t feel ready to share what she always pulls out of you. You never will be. You can tell she’s trying to confront you while also giving you proper space and you can’t help but hope she somehow understands the tension within you. That you want her comfort and her ease, but acknowledging these things about yourself will force you to move forward, take a step out of the darkness that connects you with your home.

You think she may know a thing or two about that, which is even more a reason to keep your distance.

“The tangerines have been growing really well,” she tells you one day. You think she’s caught on and is trying to give you space.

“Thanks,” you mumble, burying your face in the branches as you pick a few more and place them in your basket. You feel that Nami wants to say more, but you’re too flustered to leave the foliage. She walks off after a moment and Luffy pouts from afar. Why is it okay when you pick the tangerines?

The captain walks into your greenhouse-office one morning and witnesses your vulnerability. You had a hard time sleeping, mind racing with what if’s and hypotheticals and the same narratives you’ve been running through your mind for years. Luffy catches you in the middle of a crying session, tenderly checking the leaves of the saplings you’re nursing with blurry vision.

Upon being caught you try to reign yourself back into normalcy. You wipe your eyes with embarrassment and cough to level your voice. “Hey Luffy, sorry I didn’t—”

But he smiles, wraps his arms around you seven-fold and holds you close. He’s warm, like a heated blanket, like another body in the rain to keep you safe. You choke out another sob, one you didn’t know you had in you. You realize you haven’t been held like this since before Hin walked forwards and never looked back. You wonder where he is, where that tree took him. Who was waiting for him.

Luffy just snickers, in a wholesome way. One that finds your insecurities amusing because he thinks they’re silly (not that you voiced them; he just knows). Of course the Strawhats will be your family, hold onto you until you achieve your dream and then a little longer. Even when you push and push and keep everyone at a distance unless they’re trying to keep a distance from you.

You learn that Luffy is a great void for your most absurd or intrusive thoughts. He doesn’t remember them and his reactions make them feel like they might not be worth the world to entertain.

“What if I die before I see my sister again?” You blurt one day while the two of you are sitting on the head of the Sunny. It’s a spot you like to lay to soak up the warmth of the sun, but only by yourself. Sometimes being with Luffy is like being alone.

“Huh? That’d suck,” he says nonchalantly. “But you won’t, you’re strong.”

You can’t begin to fathom why he thinks that. But he’s so confident it breaks your line of thinking. This repeats a few times throughout the day.

“Sometimes I think that Hin left so easily because I didn’t mean anything to him.”

“That’s dumb, sometimes you just have to be somewhere,” he says easily. Pauses. “Why’s he called that anyways?”

You look up from where you're sitting to glance at Luffy’s face. He’s standing next to you, staring in the distance like he has better things to worry about, such as what Sanji’s making for dinner and the like. You can see the glow of golden hour sitting on his skin and his hat.

“It means the..” you trail off. From this angle, Luffy’s hat makes a perfect halo around his head. His unruly hair sticks out like a mane. Like light diffusing from one central bright light.

“The sun.”

(You think about how the crew agreed to name this ship the Sunny. You think about how Franky put a lion on the front before he heard anything about how you joined the Strawhats.)

You lay in that same spot the next day, soaking in the sun and letting your mind wander. You try to remind yourself of the reality you’re existing within.

Footsteps come from behind you. They’re heavy, Zoro’s. You aren’t sure why he’s coming this way. He usually naps at the bottom of the staircase and trains in the lookout tower. You sit up, ready to leave if he has plans to use the space. Of everyone, Zoro is the one you’re simultaneously the most comfortable with and reserved around. He keeps to himself in a way that makes you feel like you should too.

To your surprise, he mumbles a “sorry” when he sees you and makes to turn around and go back down the stairs.

You call out to stop him. “I can leave if you want to be here.”

“Don’t. I won’t bother you, I can nap somewhere else.”

“You should nap here if you want,” you encourage him.

He’s quiet for a moment. “Don’t wanna make you nervous.”

He thinks he scares you, you realize. He has a shimmer of reluctance in his gaze that looks out of place. Usually you’re awkward around him because his stare reminds you of the intensity of a predator. An animal with a roar that rules as king in the hierarchy of life. At first it was too much, but now it makes you realize that the beings you love are everywhere. Hin might be gone, but you have Zoro. These archetypes will repeat in your life for as long as you live. They’re different, of course, but there’s a reason you keep finding one another.

“You won’t,” you tell him confidently. “You don’t.”

Sleeping in the same space as Hin was how you grew to be confident in your trust of him and his in you.

You ask, “Can I lay here while you nap?”

He frowns at the fact that you would ask. “Of course.”

You find a middle ground with Nami. You like looking at her maps, seeing the expanse of space that exists that you’ve never set foot on. Places you may have been minutes from and never known. You like the way the paper wrinkles ever so slightly with the touch of ink on its surface. When it dries it sits mostly flat again, but there’s a slight warpage you can feel by running your fingers over the lines. You’re watching her draw one evening when she starts talking about her mom and sister. You don’t interject, just nod to yourself and give the occasional hum of affirmation that you’re listening.

You smile to yourself. “I hope I get to fight with my sister again one day.”

A knock on the door interrupts whatever Nami’s reply would have been. It’s Chopper, excited about an observation he made in the greenhouse that he wants your opinion on. You look at Nami apologetically and tell her you’ll talk more later. You want to hear more about her life in the village. She smiles sheepishly, realizing how much she rambled. Your heart pounds excitedly as Chopper grabs your hand and guides you to your office despite knowing you know how to get there. You fight the urge to scoop him in your arms.

One day while you’re napping on the Sunny’s lion, Zoro in his own slumber against one of the pieces of the mane, a slight drizzle starts to fall. It wakes you gently and just as the weather picks up into a heavier rain. You’re disoriented, but stand and close the gap of a few strides to where Zoro is still sleeping. You shake him gently, urge him to wake up.

He has the nerve to look annoyed and ask why you woke him.

“C’mon Zoro, we should nap inside. We’re gonna get sick in the rain.”

He raises an eyebrow, unbudging. You give his arm a push but he’s motionless. You give up, try to step over him and to the deck, slip a little but catch yourself on the railing.

Zoro sighs and stands. He somehow scoops you around your front and grabs the back of your knees in a one-handed bridal carry. You would protest but he’s warm and you’re still sleepy despite being somewhat damp. Zoro gets onto the deck with ease and walks down to the closest sheltered area. There he sits and places you next to him so that you lean against his shoulder for support. He falls back asleep immediately. You’re too tired to think about the familiarity and the warmth of waiting out the rain. You fall asleep quickly.

It gets easier with time despite the continuing uncertainty. It’s a constant question of what to do, how to get back home, if your family would even be there still. The crew knows you’re struggling, that you don’t know what path to follow. They’re here for you, welcoming you with open arms even as you think about leaving them. But you were never good at making decisions, always moving through life by the only option left.

The default here is to stay and follow everyone else’s journey. Luffy asks if you have a dream. You don’t. That’s never been what moves you forward.

It’s another night in a bar with the Strawhats. Not much of a drinker, you learn to assume the role of designated navigator to the Sunny while Zoro helps carry the ones who can’t walk. As you’re trying to rally everyone to head back, Luffy lets out a loud laugh and points to something on the wall.

“Hey! Looks like you finally got a bounty, hahaha!”

You look to where he’s pointing and freeze. The poster definitely has a resemblance but the person in the portrait has lighter eyes and a different haircut than you. Your noses are slightly different. You yank the paper off the wall and read your sister’s name at the bottom. Your heart is thrumming in your ears, body on fire as you stare.

Sanji takes your silence as fear that you have a bounty and drunkenly pats your back. Then he slings an arm over your shoulder and leans his weight on you for support. “It’s okay, we’ll protect you. Your portrait looks good even if it’s a little inaccurate.”

You fold the poster and shove it in your pocket, urging everyone to get moving. Before you leave the bar you do a quick scan of the room to see everyone’s face. She’s not here. You leave.

The next morning you stand by the kitchen counter as you watch Sanji prepare and serve breakfast for everyone nursing their hangovers. You watch them grumble, some of them argue despite it being so early in the day. You think fondly about how they’ve become your family when you needed it most. You recount hugs, late night conversations, tears, naps, lingering together in silence. You think about the poster in your pocket.

You didn’t sleep much last night, preoccupied with what-ifs and hypotheticals. Questions of who your sister has joined on the water, how she got there, how she’s doing. You think that you should get a bounty of your own, to show her that you’re still out there too. You imagine an unexpected run in on the open water. One where you show each other the people you’ve met and tell stories of all that’s happened while you’ve been apart. You imagine your crews working together, maybe they become one giant crew. More realistically you’ll eventually part your separate ways. But it’s the kind of parting that comes with the chance for return, a reassurance that you’re allies and there will be an again. You can say “see you later.”

You’re standing there too long. Sanji looks at you with confusion as to why you aren’t coming to eat. Luffy just shoots an arm over and pulls you between himself and Nami.

“Let’s eat!” he cheers. “Or I can eat your food if you aren’t hungry.”

You can’t hold back your smile. Luffy’s arm is still partially wrapped around your waist from where he grabbed you and you put yours around his waist to hug him back. You put your other arm around Nami and hug her too.

She yelps and her face flushes. “Wh-what’s up with you this morning?”

Luffy just giggles and hugs you harder. You love them. You beam and put your head against Luffy’s. “Nothin’. Just excited for breakfast.”

You feel like you have all the time in the world.

ok i'm finally done with my crossposting & can breathe again

#i doubt anyone will read this so i'm not gonna bother maximizing tags LMAO #jiso.fics #one piece #fanfiction #strawhats x reader #nami x reader #sanji x reader #usopp x reader #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #chopper x reader #(it's platonic guys)

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