#I cannot find the fic whatsoever though

[climbdraws]

a fic that lives rent free in my brain was an ATLA one where aang dies right after defeating ozai because his role in the cycle was fulfilled, the avatar spirit leaves his body and he just dies. 10/10 for killing the main character in the last chapter

#took me by such surprise and it lives in my brain rent free ever since #I cannot find the fic whatsoever though #katara was supposed to have been the next water avatar -> #if aang had lived in his original time & lived to 80/90 then kataras age would match #she’s a water bending prodigy why….because she was supposed to be the avatar #kataras entire personality being hope & justice….yah #I’ve been on the hunt for this fic forever & I can’t find it #atla

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 🔞 | Oneshot

"Does he even pay you?"

Tags/Warnings: Idol!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, friends with benefits situation, major angst, mentions of sex work, smoking, smut, god so much filth, Dom!Jungkook, big dick JK but what's new, did I mention angst?, protected sex, multiple rounds, multiple positions, a brief thighjob, so many feelings

Length: 7k+ words

There is no taglist for this fic. This is a Oneshot.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"How does it feel to be a celebrity and ending up with me?" You wonder at him over the music, making him frown before he shakes his head, pulling you in by your hands he's holding.

"What're you talking about babe?" He argues softly, letting go of your hands to hold your waist now. "I've got the prettiest girl at my side, in my opinion. Can't complain whatsoever." He tells you into your ear, voice raised a bit and slightly raspy from his last smoking break.

You just shrug, enjoying the music when some people approach you, talking to Jungkook about something you don't listen in on, even though he's still holding you close. It's none of your business, you really don't want to get too involved with his work and everything around it, but it's clear that he likes to do exactly that.

Jungkook wants you around all the time. Doesn't matter if it fits the scene and situation, if he can invite you or bring you along, he will.

Fans don't know your connection to him. They constantly battle it out in comment sections that you're just a translator, nothing else, that you're staff so of course you have to travel alongside him. And just how they can seem to connect everything to dating if it fits their 'ship' they've got inside their minds, they're also talented in finding thousands of (sometimes frankly ridiculous) reasons as to why it cannot possibly be true either.

While before, someone wearing the same jewelry as Jungkook was a confirmation of a relationship, with you its just pure coincidence. You're an adult woman, you can choose whatever necklace or ring you want, that doesn't mean you're dating him. You're wearing the same t-shirt he wore just a day ago? Maybe you just own the same, or he was nice enough to lend it to you for one reason or the other. Seen near his hotel room? Well of course, you're staff!

The truth is, that you're not even staff at all- but you're also not dating him.

Jungkook has become awfully… comfortable in his trust that fans will brush off every rumor floating around. It's why he's shamelessly grabbing your tits from behind right now just for the fun of it, lips kissing your neck as you slap them off to hold your waist instead. "They'll call it AI-generated or something." He laughs, but you can't shake off the feeling of doubt about that. "And there's no one here filming anyways. It's a private VIP zone, so relax baby." He chuckles, swaying you with him to the beat.

He's right that this is a secluded zone- but that's never stopped anything ever before, did it. One random Instagram live where you're both seen in the background and it's over. For both of you.

"Let's go back to the hotel though. I'm horny as fuck." He laughs, making you roll your eyes with red cheeks to go with.

Jungkook is a shameless person- he doesn't see anything wrong with the things he says or does if they're not hurting anybody. He's got his own opinions and he stands by them, only ever shifting his stance if there's undeniable evidence of him being wrong shown to him. And he also enjoys the more physical aspects of love.

Jungkook enjoys sex to its fullest.

He used to sleep around quite often, his charm and also wealth and status enough to make the act of finding someone willing fairly easy. Most wouldn't be believed anyways if they openly said he'd slept with them- he made sure they never took pictures or god forbid videos, and he also never stayed the night, most of the time preferred the security of his own home where he could politely tell them to leave after the deed was done, his reasoning always having to do something with his work.

'I'm sorry, I got called up to the studio.'

'Fuck I forgot I had a flight early morning tomorrow.'

'I'm really sorry, ah this is awkward, but my manager just told me to a live now, and I can't have you being seen.'

You knew he did this. You were staff at some point, after all, even if not hired by his company but rather outsourced during a particularly demanding schedule and many other employees sick due to a viral infection going around in the office building.

You'd been just another victim of his. But somehow, he ended up biting down too hard- making him taste blood, Primal hunger awakened at the mind-blowing experience he'd had, an odd need to keep you just for himself having blossomed from it all. You were a keeper, you still are- and while it's not really love, it's good enough for him. Close enough.

He reminds you, regularly, that it's not love, with how he never claims to love you, avoids the topic altogether, always tells others you're just very close even when it's obvious just like tonight that you're a little too close to just be something casual. But he enjoys your presence nonetheless. Like a dear friend, just with some deeper layers to it.

Some staff call you his personal prostitute. And in a way, you do sometimes feel like that.

Jungkook is that kind of man who could have sex first thing in the morning. Doesn't even have to wake up fully- if you touch him just a bit, he'll come to life in an instant, if he's not sporting a boner already. He enjoys the exhaustion he feels afterwards, always pushes you past your first and second O, keeps his own saved up for the very last stretch all the time. He draws it out to high heavens, has trouble calling it quits.

Shower sex he's mastered, knows exactly where to step and what position to get into to make it as safe as possible. He loves having you on his large sofa, leather easy to clean after you're both done. Sixty-nine is his favorite dinner for two, though he has to admit that lately, he's been enjoying the more closer positions a lot more. Spooning from behind, lotus, you name it- you've become more than just an outlet for him.

He doesn't know what they call you behind his back. What your unofficial status is. They'd never admit that to him, because why would they? No one wants to get on his bad side if they don't have to.

He's on his phone, free hand on your thigh as you both sit in the back of the car that's driving him back to his hotel. He's gonna get out first, make his way inside, while you'll get in later from the back entrance to not raise any suspicion. It's normal. Routine. You've mastered it by now.

"I'll see you in ten." He winks before he makes his way out the car, rushing past some fans who've found out his location, bodyguards already there to guide him inside the lobby.

"Does he pay you?" The driver chuckles, and you shake your head. "Damn." The elderly man clicks his tongue. "Go find yourself an actual man, dear." He tells you as he parks behind the hotel, watching you move, your phone vibrating in your pocket, before it stops suddenly. "You know what they call you, right?"

"I know." You admit quietly.

"And you're okay with that? You're too sweet to let yourself be used like that. Have some self-worth." The man tells you with a kind tone. "I've seen you around long enough to know that you're kind, and a nice person. Trust me, you can and will find a proper man to love you right. But this?" He shakes his head. "You know he just wants you because you've become routine."

"I know." You repeat again, sighing a little.

"You're not what they say you are. You're just a little soft at heart, hm?" The old guy smiles over his shoulder, watching you unbundled your seatbelt. "Trust me, he won't be sad if you call it quits. I've worked for guys like this for more than thirty years- they'll just jump to the next." He explains, and you smile to yourself, before you nod towards the man. "Never mess with entertainers, sweetheart. They'll always break your heart." he offers.

"I know." You say once more, before you exit the car, and get on your way to Jungkook's hotel room.

You don't officially share one, but he still keeps you around for most of the night. You leave whenever he has to do a livestream or if he wants to go to bed, and you come back if he wants you to- but most nights you sleep alone, because he deems it too intimate for you to stay.

Apparently, sleeping in the same bed is more intimate than spitting on your cunt. Interesting.

When you knock on the door, Jungkook opens. Something's off, you notice it right away, but you don't dwell on it, don't answer. It's none of your business, and he won't tell you anyways, so what's the point in just further inducing his bad mood.

It's quiet as he moves around, since he doesn't talk to you, and you don't know what to say. You wait for him to make his move, and when he doesn't, you get up to grab your sweater you forgot in his room earlier, just to have him stand behind you, hands on your hips. "I didn't forget about you." He chuckles, and you let the fabric slip out of your fingers and back onto the floor as he kisses the crook of your neck.

Maybe jungkook is indeed using you. But you've started to use him just as much, if only to even out the odds, and make yourself feel more than just cheap company.

He slips out of his shirt. You raise your arms to help him take off yours, your naked skin at this point almost a requirement for him every time he takes you. He used to be satisfied with just fucking you somewhere quiet quick and simple to quench his thirst, but over the course of time now nearing an entire year, he's become more and more hungry. Like he wants to crawl underneath your skin at some point, the Idol constantly pushes himself more and more inside your body, not just in a sexual sense. He buys you clothes he thinks will look good on you, has a playlist just for when you're at his place filled with somber lovesongs more about heartbreak than anything else. He claims he didn't look up the lyrics, but you know he's lying. He knows a lot more english than he admits, just so he can pull the 'I don't understand' card whenever he's asked a question he doesn't want to answer.

He lets you wear his clothes without much comment by now, has gifted you jewelry he's worn and liked, laughs any mention of that being 'such a sweet gesture' off if anyone around him mentions it. He's not your boyfriend, but he surely is starting to act like it- maybe the lines are blurring for him just as much as they do for you?

People around you have started betting. On when he's gonna have another one, when you'll be 'swapped out' for something else, or at what point he's gonna make it official that you're indeed more than just nightly company. You don't await that day. It's never gonna come anyways.

"Turn around." He commands, and you do, because that's the easiest way to get where you want to be down the line. Head empty, no thoughts left, fucked stupid by a man who keeps you around for just your body and the familiarity you provide. You don't really mind any longer, long having stopped caring about emotions that are fruitless, bound to rot and die because Jungkook won't ever nurture anything you'd try and plant in his heart. He doesn't want it, and doesn't need it either- if he wants to feel loved, he just has to show his face to his millions of fans always on edge for more content. That's where he gets his love from. Maybe you're just there to feed other desires he can't have fulfilled like that.

He licks his lips as he gazes over your naked upper body, bra long undone by his hands on your back, fingers trained in the routine by now. You remember the surprise he'd shown you when you'd worn one with the clasp up front, face so soft and round for just a second that it felt like you'd just slipped into a dream- but his hunger had quickly returned, because Jungkook is a beast never satisfied. He craves more and more, constantly aims for absolute euphoria, never soft, never gentle.

Jungkook bites. He claims, grips, holds and pushes- he's aware over the physical strength he holds over you, and plays around with the fact almost every night. From tugging on your leg to pushing your head down whenever you decide to please him with your mouth instead for once. Something about the way you swallow around him and swirl your tongue always makes him feral, thighs trembling as the muscles spasm beneath the skin from the force of his orgasm. Maybe that's why he keeps you around. Because you can keep up.

His own shirt is shed, and his hands make quick work of his belt before he helps you out of your pants as well. He'd told you he didn't want to use the bed tonight, because asking for new sheets is always awkward, but he does it anyways- picks you up just to let you fall onto the bed, crawling over you. "What do you want?" You ask out of breath, but he just tilts his head in familiar habit, until it shakes no.

"Don't know yet." He answers. This is new.

Usually he always has a fixed scene set out, knows how he wants to take you right away, but this time he visibly seems unsure where to start. Almost like the first time.

He spits in his hand, doesn't bother taking off the rings, fingers working you up like it's second nature. He knows where to place them, how to move and what patterns to choose- and you don't bother thinking about the possible reason for it. Probably to get you wet and ready quick so he can get to the actual act itself, or maybe he just finds some sort of personal satisfaction from it. You're not sure- and neither do you really want to ask.

You're a little cold, but he'll warm you up soon. Hopefully you won't get sick like last time. Will he find someone else to fuck if you're unavailable?

Who knows. He surely has a lot to choose from, if he so much as asked.

He's got a question on his mind, but visibly contemplates on asking it. His teeth clamp down on his bottom lip, tongue playing with the twin piercings placed there for a second, before he leans in, kisses you. This is one of those things he does that are just outright cruel to you. His kisses full of fever and want feel so burning hot that you're sure you're marked by them for life. Like a signature he's inked underneath your skin almost he claims you again and again like this, with his tongue teasing yours, mouths open and ready to steal each other's breath.

He surely takes yours hostage, every time- and that's probably the smallest crime he commits.

"Have you eaten today?" He asks, and it catches you off guard, eyes opening again, painfully tugged back into reality where he lets his sticky hand run over your abdomen, just to settle on your hipbone. "Your stomach keeps growling." He teases, and you come crashing down. Of course. He'd never actually remember to ask that out of the blue if it wasn't for something reminding him about it.

"Not really." You respond, adjusting your position a little bit, legs trying to pull him closer. "Doesn't matter." You say, and he hums, leaning down again to mouth at your neck- probably marking his territory again, a joke made on a constant whenever you turn up with the blooming bruises on your skin, their origin more than obvious.

"Hm." He hums, almost dissatisfied, but you don't bother to think about it. He moves to lean off the side of the bed, pulling his suitcase closer to get himself a condom, opening the package easily before he rolls it over his length. He seems oddly soft tonight, in more ways than one. Is he still exhausted from the shooting? Could be. He never wants to admit himself that he has to take breaks, thinks that his body can just magically manifest strength from nothing but pure thought, and it used to irritate you, because you felt responsible, in a way. But that was when you still saw more in this than there actually was- nowadays, it's his business, not yours. He's got nutritionists and personal trainers who get paid for taking care of him. It's not your job.

What is your job, really?

Well, you're most certainly not working under his company any longer, and neither have you returned to your original agency either- simply because Jungkook's management deemed you too much of a danger in your position, after the idol had let it slip that you two were having sex on a regular basis. So you just signed an NDA, got paid for your silence, now earning a living by writing books. Modern fantasy novels, where the daydreams you once had can actually become reality, and your hopes and wishes can be dreamed of by other people who have the same.

It's good money. A hobby you cherish.

Jungkook has never asked you what you work as nowadays. He doesn't even visit your apartment, has never seen it before, and he doesn't know if you have family either. He just takes you as his, lets you live alongside him and entertains you whenever he's in the mood for it. And you let him, because these days, he's all you've got. There's not much else you can do than write all day at home or accompany him on his overseas schedules.

You're not sure why he always drags you along, when back home, he won't even call you for days. Maybe he doesn't have to? Maybe his bed at home is always warm. But if that's the case, why not take them on a trip once in a while? Does he have designated women for specific occasions?

Then who will the woman be he chooses to show to the public one day? Number three in his harem?

You can't even truly blame him. As someone he grew up in this industry, his view on the world is warped, shifted, not the same colors as yours. He doesn't feel the same worth in a simple banknote that you do, he can't understand the struggle of missing the bus or having to face an empty fridge.

"Sit up, baby." He tells you, chuckles when you struggle a little to do so- compared to him, flying around all the time actually does take a toll on you. And the petname doesn't make it any better in this moment, as his hands reach out to hold you steady, helping your legs over his thighs, before he guides the head of his cock into you. He wants you close tonight it seems like. Hopefully he keeps holding you, because you're not very energetic this time. "I've got you." He says, and you nod, resting your arms around his neck, hands faintly touching the skin of his back. "Are you cold?" He wonders.

"A bit." You respond. He's probably noticed your icy fingertips.

"I'll warm you up." He purrs, and you nod. You know he will. He always does- always hot hearted in everything he does, even in this. He holds you close, hands on your behind helping you move, your hips rolling a bit too slow for his liking, but he overlooks it for once. You're not sure what's up with him tonight. This isn't him. "You tired, baby?" He wonders, and you nod.

"Sorry." You tell him, but he shakes his head, moves to lay you down, knees pressed into the soft hotel bed mattress as he thrusts his hips forwards.

"It's alright." He brushes it off. "Flight was long as hell." He muses, lazily moving himself. You're enjoying this, even if it's odd for him to behave this way. "Wanna come over for breakfast tomorrow morning?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"Can't." You sigh, arms now moving to lay above your head, eyes closed in bliss. "I fly out back home at 8 tomorrow." You remind him, and you can't see the way his brows lower, face darkening as he realizes he didn't know that. You usually fly back after him. Why are you going home sooner this time?

"Why?" He huffs out, hands grabbing your legs as he pulls your thighs over his, pushing himself deeper now. "You always fly after me." He almost growls.

"I dunno.." You slur. "Management said." You just respond. Why does he seem so irritated by this? It's not a huge deal at all if you fly back sooner or later. He's not gonna call you up back home anyways, so why does it bother him so much.

"Management can go fuck themselves." He argues. "You fly after me. I'll book the flight myself if I have to." he demands practically, slight irritation causing him to have his energy boil up, position adjusted as he becomes more restless, balls smacking loudly against you cunt, pace a lot more ruthless now.

You're finally reaching it. Your head becomes fuzzy.

You don't notice Jungkook becoming almost.. satisfied from that sight of your tension finally leaving. You're nothing but whimpers of pleasure as he slips out of you, hands tugging and pushing your legs and body to have you on your side, the taller Idol now laying down on his side behind you to spoon you, dragging the head of his length through your soaked and slicked up folds. one hand holds up your thigh, helps in opening you up, though you're pretty much gaping from his girth stretching you out moments prior. His lips find your shoulder, your neck, as he pushes himself back inside with the help of your hands-

who suddenly do something new as well, tugging the condom from his cock, making him gasp out in sensitivity. "What're you doing?" He grows.

"IUD." You tell him. "Please-" You beg, and yet again he moves as if awakened from slumber, pushing you halfway on your stomach as he pushes the now bare head of his cock back inside you. This is most certainly new, and he knows for a fact, that he's never going back again.

"Fuck.." He almost laughs, leaning over you now, body covering yours as he just pushes himself in for a good moment, humming a sound of pleasure into your neck as he lets himself relish in the new sensation. "Ah-" He sighs out, before he clenches his jaw, thrusting hard as if to make sure your body will remember him for days to come.

It will. Sadly.

"God, fuck-!" He groans out, holding onto your body now, having turned you onto your side, hand reaching out adjust your arm so he can see your face. Your lips are parted, eyes closed in bliss, and he can't help but have his hand smack down onto your behind that's moving in a way that's way too inviting. He does it a second time, slap clearly heard as he smirks at the way you clench around his cock currently rearranging your insides. He moves your leg to rest over his shoulder, reaching even deeper, hand underneath your belly button pressing where he can faintly feel himself move.

No one can blame him for being absolutely obsessed with your body.

He can feel the way you begin to tighten, thighs shaking a little as you come undone, his hands moving your legs again to close them once more, holding them up, slipping out of your clenching cunt to push his cock right between your soft and wet thighs. it's enough for a moment, though you reach out to touch the tip poking through almost teasingly, making him laugh as he suddenly sighs out, groaning as he spills over your stomach and up your chest. You're breathing heavily, and don't notice you start to shiver, as he parts from you to turn on the light in the bathroom to clean up.

Aftercare is not really his thing- and you've come to accept that.

When you sit up, you stretch your arms in front of you, muscles slowly regaining strength as you wait for Jungkook to finish up, toilet flushing before he emerges again, shamelessly walking without underwear, gaze following you as you walk past him to use the bathroom yourself.

The moment you re-emerge to grab your clothes, he's sitting on the edge of the bed with his boxers back on, phone in his hand. "I booked the flight for you. Tomorrow at 12:30." He tells you as you slip back into your underwear, not bothering with the bra as you search for where he'd thrown your shirt. "Here." He offers- and you slip the garment on with a thanks, only noticing afterwards that that's not yours at all, oversized fabric reaching almost to your knees. "Cute." He comments way too quiet to be meant to be heard, so you don't mention it at all.

"Why is the flight-thing so important?" You wonder, slipping into your socks as he moves around to find the hotel room service menu.

"Because you always fly back after me." He repeats again, clearing his throat.

"…you already said that." You mumble to yourself, but he clearly hears you.

"Fuck alright, god damnit!" He whines in complaint, rolling his eyes. "If you were to fly back earlier, you'll run right into all the paparazzi and shit waiting for me. That's why you're meant to fly back later- so they're gone by the time you arrive." He explains, and you're stunned in the spot you're standing, watching him a bit confused.

So that's the reason?

"It's not like they know." You say, unsure why he's so adamant about it.

"Doesn't matter." He shakes his head. "I'm not having them jump you for whatever reason they might have." He denies, before he sits down in the seat near the window which blinds are shut. "Now what do you wanna eat?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"I'll eat something tomorrow morning." You deny, and he slumps back in his seat, eyes closed and tongue pushed against his cheek.

"What do you want to fucking eat, babe." He repeats, making sure to pronounce the petname before he looks at you with frustration.

"Nothing." You respond. "Are we done?" You ask him, and he shakes his head, setting the menu down before he crosses his arms.

"No." He denies. "What to they call you?" He asks, and you're not sure what he's getting at, shaking your head with brows furrowed in confusion.

"What're you talking about?" You ask, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"What do they call you?" He repeats. "I heard what you talked about in the car when I left."

"How?" You ask baffled.

"Telepathy." He jokes without humor, before he scoffs to himself. "I called you to actually ask you if you wanted to eat something- but you must've accidentally accepted the call without looking, because I clearly listened in on a convo I wasn't supposed to hear." He explains. "Either way, I want an answer. What. Do. They. Call. You." He demands, and you sigh.

"Why does it matter?" You argue, searching for your leggings in the room- finding them over the armrest of the chair he's currently sitting in. "I'm your personal prostitute, just without the pay." You tell him, and it takes him a second to realize that that's your answer.

Suddenly, he wants you out the room.

Not because he doesn't want you here any longer, but because the guilt is eating him alive with ever second he has to look at you. Because the more he think about it, the more it becomes obvious to him that this really must look like just that to everyone. After all, he's just taking you with him apparently for sex, and he's become so comfortable in it that he didn't think about it any longer. It's what you want too, right?

Jungkook has never really learned how to convey his emotions properly. He doesn't know what it's like to fall in love, has no idea what to look out for. He likes spending time with you, and enjoys the sex to the point that he's been monogamous with only you for the past year or so. It's nice to be in a relationship, even though he knows this one isn't normal. It's still okay, because down the line, you understand each other. He likes you, he just doesn't want people to use that against him or you at some point- so he keeps your status to himself. No one needs to know you're a couple. Only you and him. Because.. you know that, right?

"You know that's not what you are to me, right?" He asks, and you shrug.

"Does it matter?" You ask. "It's none of my business who I am to you, or whoever you screw apart from me." You say.

"What?" He asks, crossed arms unraveling. "I'm not fucking anyone but you." He says.

"Cool." You say.

"Cool? That's it?" He argues. "How can you be so calm about everyone else telling you I'm apparently cheating on you?" He worries, and you're yet again confused.

"What're you talking about?" You ask. "That's got nothing to do with cheating." You say.

"No no no no whoa there. Stop for a second." He holds his hands out as if to soothe a raging crowd of people, looking at the carpet. "You- you do know we're in a relationship, right?" He asks you, and your face tells him everything he needs to know. "Oh my fucking god are you kidding me…" He complains into his hands, covering his face in frustration.

"How the hell was I supposed to know?" You say, now with your own arms crossed. "Jungkook, you rarely even talk to me when we're back home. You only take me with you when you've got something up overseas, you constantly tell people we're just friends, you've never even asked me out in the first place!" You argue.

"We've been fucking each other for almost a year, I thought it was obvious I liked you?!" He whines, looking at you with what you realize are tears brimming on his waterline. Why is he so emotional now? "Have you- did you see anyone other than me?" He asks quietly, and you shake your head.

"No." You deny.

"Okay. Fuck- okay." He takes a deep breath, swallows down his panic. "I like you. I don't- I've got no clue if it's love or not because I don't know, alright? But I like you, a lot, to the point where I want us to be something permanent." He tries to explain. "Just us. You and me." He underlines, and you shrug.

"Jungkook, it's not that easy." You sigh. "If this has been what you think a relationship is like, then we won't work out."

"Alright, then what do you need me to do?" He argues, not letting go. "God- fuck, tell me what do I have to do to make you stay?" He asks, voice cracking.

"Jungkook, calm down-" You start, but he shakes his head, swallows thickly, bottom lip quivering for just a second before he licks over it, pulls it in between his teeth.

"I can't-! Not when it sounds like you're gonna leave me-" He worries.

"I'm not, don't worry. I'll stay. Just.. breathe for a second, alright?" You ask, getting up to walk closer, pushing his shoulders back to force him out of his slumped over position. "Hey- okay?" You ask, and he instead pulls you closer, sits you onto his lap, before he clings onto you, resting his forehead in your shoulder. "Why do you never reach out to me when we're home? You're confusing me." You gently tell him, and he shrugs.

"I'm scared they'll see you." He sniffles. "If they do- they'll tear you apart." He sighs. "When we're out here, like this- I can just.. claim you're staff, whatever. But at home- I can't.. I don't know how to protect you." He shakes his head.

"You should've told me." You sigh, leaning into him. "I was hurt, you know?" You tell him.

"I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry." He apologizes, pulls you just a bit closer. "I don't know what to do." He whines.

"What if you just visit me instead?" You offer. "They don't know where I live. And my windows are all mirrored so no one can look inside." You tell him.

"…since when?" he asks, leaning away from you a little so that you can finally see his face again, eyes red, a stray tear escaping him that you wipe off.

"Since a few months ago? Jungkook you don't even know my apartment in the first place. You've never visited me at all, ever!" You laugh, and he sighs.

"I know, and I.. always wanted to, you know, visit you.. spend time with you but.." He runs a hand over his face.

"You're okay. We talked about it now." You nod, an action he copies. "I'll come back tomorrow morning and we can have breakfast together, okay?" You ask, but he shakes his head.

"No, you gotta stay." He denies. "I don't care if you don't like that, but I need you close tonight." He says.

"Never said I don't." You say. "You just seemed uncomfortable with it." You wonder.

"Because I snore!" He whines, throwing his head back. "I snore, I move a lot, I might cling to you at night or I sweat, or whatever the fuck- I'm not as perfect as I'm made out to be." He complains.

"Jungkook sorry, but what the fuck." You laugh, and he can't help but smile at the sight and sound of you happy. "You can fart and burp like whatever, and I'd still stay. You're human, I'm not perfect either!" You explain, but he shakes his head, leaning forwards to kiss your already blossoming bruises on your neck.

"No, you are." He says. "You're absolutely perfect." He argues.

"Not really." You deny.

"Stop arguing." He complains, squeezes your waist a bit.

"What're you gonna do about it?" You tease, and he looks up at you with a heated gaze.

"Get me nice n' hard and I'll show you." He responds, making you giggle with eyes rolling, as you lean back to tug him out of his underwear, a hiss leaving him. "Fuck, baby your hands are icy!" He laughs, leaning back to hold your legs so you don't slip off of his thighs.

"That's cause it's cold in here!" You joke back, warming your hands up on his already heated length, skin already flushed and swelling as the blood rushes back. His hands travel beneath the shirt you wear, softly grabbing at the flesh of your chest, making you get up to shed your underwear and get back onto his lap.

"Think you can ride me on this thing?" He asks, talking about the seat he's sitting in. "Kinda tired right now, won't lie."

"Huh, making me do all the work now?" You raise your brows. "And here I thought you wanted to take us seriously.." You sigh, attempting to joke- but he clearly doesn't take it as such, face becoming serious again.

"Lift your hips a little." He demands, and you do so- unsure what he's trying to do, before he spits into his hand once more, feeling you up between your legs to check if you're ready. You are- quickly slicking up at the thought of him, and he guides his length inside of you again, stretching you out once more, but this time, it's not just sex.

He refuses to move. He just helps you settle on his lap, but holds onto your hips, keeping you from moving. "Jungkook-" You whine, but he shakes his head, and pulls your face closer to kiss you.

"No, I wanna stay like this for a bit." He denies.

"But I thought we wanted to eat something later?" You ask, making him roll his eyes.

"I'm trying to be romantic here." He complains.

"By putting your dick inside me?" You ask.

"Well I don't know what else to do!" He whines. "I.. I don't really know how else to properly express.." He falls deep into thought for a second or two, before he finally says it. "I don't know how else to make sure you can.."

"..feel how much I love you."

You're quiet for a good while, watching how he rather looks at your neck than at you in particular, avoiding eye contact as he continues to move his hands back to your sides underneath your shirt. "Jungkook…" You mumble, and he cringes.

"Don't-" He sighs, clicks his tongue in irritation. "-don't pity me or something-" He begins.

"No no no I'm not pitying you I just-" You cut him off, now your hands holding his cheeks to force him to look at you. Because you just realized something in the things he's said earlier. "Remember how you said.. you want me to fly back after you?" You ask, and he nods.

"Yeah." He answers, his way warmer palms now taking yours from his face, holding them in his. "Of course."

"That's.. something that also shows that you care about me." You say. "Because, you didn't say that you were worried about someone spotting me and putting your career on the line- but that you were worried about me being in danger." You remind him, and he nods. "Or how you noticed my stomach growling, and wondered if I ate today." You giggle.

"I already wondered if you didn't- cause I didn't see you eat anything." He shrugs.

"See?" You hum towards him, running your hand through his hair. "That shows you care, too." You say.

"But I want you to feel it." He complains stubbornly. "I want you to.. feel the same as I do when I'm around you." He offers.

"Horny?" You ask, and he rolls his eyes, throwing his head back.

"That too-" He laughs. "But mostly.. just, I don't know." He takes a deep breath. "It's hard to explain. It's like chest constricts when I'm not around you. Whenever I'm home, I miss you so bad that I sometimes go to sleep early just to avoid giving in and calling you. I have to distract myself just to not think about you- and yet I still do, almost all the time." He sighs, tucking your hair behind your ears. "When I wake up.." He hums, hands moving to your shoulders. "When I do my morning routine.." He explains, letting his fingers travel over the length of your arms. "When I work out.." He continues. "When I go to bed. It doesn't matter at all." He shakes his head.

"You know you don't have to make up something just to make me stay, right?" You ask him, and at that, his eyes immediately snap back up to you, panic returning.

"I'm not." He denies instantly. "I'm really not-" he urges. "-how can I prove it?" He worries.

"You.. listen, it's not something that you can just clear up in a moment." You sigh. "It's gonna take time. We're basically starting from scratch here." You explain, and he nods.

"Do you.. should we stop then?" He asks, glancing between your bodies for a second. "Until you believe me?" He wonders, and you shrug, before you shake your head.

"No." You deny. "I'd miss you too much-" You tell him, before you adjust your legs, arms around his neck. "-And you'd probably go insane without sex." You tease.

"Not without sex." He denies, watching how you begin to move your hips, letting him slip out until just the very tip remains inside you. "But without you." He clarifies. "It's not sex I want- that's a… I don't know. It's the closeness I feel, you know?" He sighs when you sink back down. "I just like touching you.. being inside you.." He hums, eyes fluttering closed as he leans back into the seat while your hands settle on his shoulders to keep you balanced, pace slow but fast enough to intensify the pleasure you both feel. "Just like that.." He sighs out in bliss.

"I have a really nice couch, you know?" You hum towards him, making him smile while his hands find your waist. "My bed is really big too.." You tell him, and he opens his eyes a little at that.

"Big enough for two?" He wonders, and you shrug.

"Guess we have to find out." You tease, and he nods, hands moving from your waist to your hips before one of them finds your heat between your legs where he can see his cock disappearing inside you.

"Is the couch sturdy?" He wonders, fingers playing with your clit now, making the muscles in your thighs twitch.

"Ah- yes!" You whine, picking up your pace.

"Hm, gonna fuck you on it then." He chuckles. "Stress-test it." He jokes, and you whimper as you come undone, your slick now coating his own legs, strings of the sticky fluid keeping you both connected, wet sounds echoing off the walls of the hotel room. "Break it." He growls, heels on the ground helping him in shifting his hips upwards into you, catching you off guard, your orgasm washing over you in a wave threatening to drown you.

You're shaking, but you still move, needing to feel him reach his high as well, and he does find his own release, spilling whatever he's got left to give, holding you close, kissing whatever skin he can reach from how you're hugging him now, breathing slowly easing again.

And he keeps you like this, uncaring of the food since it's by now too late to order any roomservice anyways.

And for the first time, he actually sleeps next to you, in the same bed-

promising himself to do everything he can to keep you this close, for now and as long as you'll have him.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines

[rochenn]

really intrigued the theoretical possibilities of "gay sit" but too rabid over your dooku not to ask about "dooku x2"

YESSS thank you!!

that's the file name of a fic called "matters of consequence" in which dooku, sometime after qui-gon's knighting, time travels forward into the clone wars, meaning that he now exists in a reality where can look his old corrupted self in the eye and also be absolutely crushed by the things he will do/has already done.

he also gets to hang out with his lineage and crawl through trenches. good times all around!

snippet of the opening chapter under the cut ->

———

Feeling lost was a curious thing.

It wasn't a state of being Dooku had often been confronted with in his forty-odd years of life. Ire, pride, ambition: those were feelings he could process, coming to him as easily as they were dismissed again.

The clink of crude pottery—a clay cup he had known since childhood—mixed with the rattle of high-security handcuffs. The cup's contents warmed his palms, the hassock beneath him soft just like his memory of it. The cuffs, however, weighed heavier than they looked. He pretended they didn't chafe his pride more than his wrists when he drank from the cup, in part to find comfort in a familiar taste, but mostly to hide. Control eluded him.

"I recall, Master," he finally managed, "one of the first things you taught me being that it is rude to stare." His voice came out terse, and it was justified. He glared pointedly into the empty space between Yoda and Mace who had both been silently regarding him for minutes that stretched like hours. He didn't care to admit how much it unnerved him.

"You didn't resist." Mace made no pretense of acknowledging his words. "Why?"

Dooku swallowed a grimace and took another sip, unable to savor the tea's candid sweetness as the Force stretched taut and wary through the room. Light fell past half-shut blinds and painted glowing bars onto the walls, as though sun itself were inclined towards horrible metaphors. This, he was certain, was an interrogation.

"Why?" Indignation, too, came to him easily. "Why is it that when I walk these halls, you pull me away," like he wasn't supposed to be there, "you practically arrest me," like some sort of criminal, and he let the cuffs rattle for emphasis, "and subsequently lock me in this chamber for no apparent reason whatsoever?"

This was all a dream, he figured. It had to be. Mace and Yoda had aged by decades. The Force's river ran polluted and vile here, nearly unrecognizable.

"Again," Mace said, and his old face was hewn from stone, "are you aware of who you are?"

"I have answered this question more than once. I cannot fathom why you should ask at all."

A wisp of Yoda's misty aura brushed against his own and Dooku had to keep himself from reaching for it. Instead, he telegraphed his displeasure through their mangled bond. If his old Master wanted to reassure him, he could well enough open his mouth to do so.

#this one is so fun but also hurting my brain a little bit #my writing #wip #count dooku #ask

[redwolf17]

So i'm curious why did you decide to kill Tyrion at the Blackwater. Don't get me wrong I despise Tyrion and he deserves all the humiliation and rejections he gets in Storm. I was just asking because I wondered how Tyrion would have reacted to Sansa calling Tywin a cowardly oathbreaker in public.

Hi anon! Totally a fair question. Someone else also asked about Tyrion recently over on Ao3, so I'm gonna copy/paste my answer.

GRRM loves Tyrion so, so much.

I… do not. While Tyrion is a very well written character, I do not enjoy him. Yes, Tyrion has his moments of kindness and generosity, he has some witty lines and compelling scenes... but I just cannot get over how vicious he can be. Yes, he suffered horrific abuse from Tywin which informs his determination to punch down against others. Yes, the ableism he faces sucks, and no one should have to endure it. That informs his actions; he is not cruel solely for the sake of being cruel.

But. But. This is a man whose reaction to Tywin's slaughter of Masha Heddle for the crime of being a hepless bystander was to reproach her pitiful corpse for events completely beyond her control. This is a man who sent Bronn to grab Shae (or rather, the prettiest whore he could find) like he was shopping for a carpet; Tyrion's chapters are steeped in some of the worst misogyny of any POV. Yes, Cersei is an incompetent asshole, but Tyrion constantly antagonizes her to his own detriment (just as he antagonized Catelyn and Lysa previously), and his contempt for Cersei and his "jokes" about wanting to rape her are disgusting. This is a man who creeped on the "beautiful" 12 year old Sansa throughout ACOK and BARELY managed not to rape her during ASOS.

I swear, the show whitewashes Tyrion so aggressively, people forget that in the books Tyrion made Sansa strip naked, HE stripped naked, he groped her breast, he made her look at his naked, erect penis, and only then, when he saw how terrified/repulsed Sansa was, did he finally stop. Not because he suddenly grew a conscience, but because he resented Sansa for not wanting him, for not pretending to want him, and blamed it on his looks/dwarfism rather than acknowledging she would have likely been just as terrified with ANY Lannister, because she's a 12 year old hostage facing imminent rape!

Tyrion murders Shae for the crime of being in Tywin's bed, as if she had any choice about being there. He resents her for testifying against him, as if Shae, a random sex worker, could have said no to Cersei and refused to bear witness. He wants to burn the whole Vale of Arryn in retribution for Lysa being a dick which, yes, she was, but his desire for retribution is outsized to say the least). Tyrion consistently resents the smallfolk for not worshipping him even though he puts 0 effort into PR whatsoever. He threatens the bedwarmer in Illyrio's house with rape and murder; he DOES rape the poor "sunset girl" later at a brothel.

GRRM loves Tyrion as a grey-and-getting-darker villain, and gives him some of the most unnecessary, bloated chapters throughout the series. GRRM sees Tyrion offer crumbs of kindness to Jon, to Bran, and thinks that somehow tips the scales against all the terrible things Tyrion does. But what other good things does Tyrion do? Like, I'm not giving him a medal for not raping Sansa, not raping terrified 12 year old girls is a LOW bar to clear! What other good deeds has Tyrion done?

Aaaaanyway, after all that rambling, here's my thoughts on Tyrion in TWQ. I really, REALLY had no interest in doing a twist on his book canon arc, which meant my options for what to do with him were pretty open. I could have done a redemption arc, but frankly, I didn't want to. It would require a LOT of time and effort to do it properly, and plenty of other fics have "redeemed" Tyrion (although usually by ignoring his vicious misogyny rather than by confronting it; or they just depict him as heroic from the start because the show nuked his characterization).

And I had zero interest in making Tyrion an ongoing villain, which is the approach some other fics have taken. Reading his ADWD chapters is punishment enough, let alone trying to write something that grotesque. Not to mention the... uh... not so great history of fiction often ignoring disabled people except to depict them as villains or helpless, agency-free pawns like poor Lollys Stokeworth. GRRM... sorta tries to handle disability with nuance, but I don't think he always hits the mark. Side note, Paul the Pious, Edythe, Bran, Jaime, and a plethora of disabled side characters both good and bad are my effort to push back on that trend.

So, by Part II, I already had a vague idea that TWQ was going to spiral into a larger tale, and I knew that doing anything with Tyrion after Part II would require a LOT of work I wasn't interested in doing. So... I decided not to do it. Writing fanfic is a hobby for fun, and developing an entire Tyrion arc I found worth telling did not sound fun. Especially since I knew I was going to force myself to tackle both Dany in Essos and the Others, which were/are a headache and a half but essential to the overall story. So... karma bit Tyrion in the ass, and a combo of his wildfire (which he used on his own men!) and Cersei (maybe breaking her arm was a bad idea?) finished him off.

#the weirwood queen #always enjoy a good ask #anti tyrion lannister #tyrion lannister

[ravenyenn19]

OKAY HERE IT IS:

So!!! Results from my poll indicated that some of you don’t want to see “face inspo/casts” for my OG “Dealing With Our Demons” characters (totally respect that!! I sometimes prefer my image not tainted while reading, too!🖤)

SOoo… here’s what we’re going to do. I will be posting the images BELOW the cut, so that way if you would rather not see, you don’t have to!🖤 no offense whatsoever taken.

Before you continue, a note: NONE of these pictures are exactly how I picture my characters. These are simply the closest I could get/who I took inspo from when describing them. 🖤 Please do not feel like you need to agree w me. That is the beauty of reading, is it not? Love you. ALSo. This is long, but I wanted to include my notes for clarification if you wanted them. This was fun, getting to have a lil in depth convo w you guys.🥹

PS- IF YOU HAVE NOT READ MY FANFIC “Dealing With Our Demons” on ao3 (by ravenyenn19) & are planning to do so (thx in advance ily) THIS POST WILL HAVE SPOILERSISH. I say this bc while no plot will be ruined, you will see faces you are not meant to yet. 🖤

First up we have: Khalid Runa (Inej’s childhood best friend) & Rahul Runa (Inej’s older cousin) *these two are married, hence the shared surname*

Notes: Khalid is pretty close, actually. In DWOD, he has aquamarine/green eyes due to his partially Kaelish heritage & I do picture his skin tone to be a tad lighter due to this. ALSO: Khalid does have burn scars across most of his hands, though I was unable to find such an image to include that piece of “DWOD lore”. (The burns are from his years mastering ‘flame eating/fire dancing’ in the caravans.

Rahul: This image is mostly chosen for his facial structure, however I do picture Rahul to have close cropped hair (a sort of subversion upon the suli culture that makes his training as a medic easier. I do picture him also remaining clean-shaven with a skin tone that is very similar to his cousin, Inej Ghafa.)

Next: Nani (Mitra) Ghafa (Inej’s maternal grandmother)

Notes: This actress is actually Iranian, for note. SO: I do want to make it very clear that I picture Nani’s skin tone to be darker like Inej (though also I do think this photo was filtered bc the actress does seem to have slightly darker skin in other pics, I chose this one bc of her face & HOW SHE HOLDS HERSELF SO MUCH LIKE NANI.) All this being said, this one is pretttttty dang similar to how I pictured Nani while writing her. Facial features specifically. What a queen. What more is there to say? She could divine my tea leaves any time.

Sharya & Kahir Ghafa, Inej’s parents (technically not OG characters, but never named in canon)

Notes: Sharya is pretty dang close to how I imagined her, which is super cool considering I never used an inspo pic for either of the Ghafas when writing them (I found them for this purpose!). It probably sounds a bit weird, but like… I just knew how Sharya & Kahir looked. They were just…BAM. Full formed people in my head. This is ultimately SUCH A FLEX ON LEIGH BARDUGO’s PART. Like, we only really experienced glimpses of Inej’s parents through the few memories in her POVs but they absolutely stuck with me & formed wonderful characters as my fic progressed. (Of course this is my opinion, but I do hope ya’ll agree.🥹)

Kahir: So…. This pic is the closest I could get, & similar to Nani, I chose it based more on facial structure/in this case facial hair. HOWEVER, Kahir is very special to me. I wrote some of his scenes in moments after I had lost my godfather, (whom was the truest father I had. He meant everything to me, being my actual dad’s best friend, he helped raise me after my dad passed when I was 4.), hence, I feel the need to clarify- as I feel a bit of my own dad is in Kahir, if only in the love.)This pic is missing a smile that I imagine near permanent on Kahir Ghafa’s face, and eyes that I cannot explain in any other word but kind. Similar to Inej’s. Sparkly. Idk. ALSO: I do picture true black hair & less gray. Maybe a sprinkle of pepper in his beard, but not much. I just imagine Inej’s parents aging like fine wine. Idk.

Next….*drum roll*…. Dr. Lily Arbor (I waited so long to bring this girl to life.)

NOTES: Ok. So. Two pics here for our Darling Death Defier Mortician. 🫶🏻 So, the one on the left is more youthful to me, a bit closer (although not the right age) to how I imagine the Lily of Kaz’s childhood. The right being far closer to how I imagine 24 year old Lily. Yet, neither of these are exactly right. But they are close. The changes that are distinct within my mind are as follows: the eyes. I distinctly see them like 2 shades darker. Navy. It’s a rare eye color, but not that different. Next, the hair. In the left image, the curls are just right, but I imagine she keeps her hair slightly longer than that- both in girlhood & adulthood. Not nearly the length of Inej’s, but you feel me. Also I do imagine her hair a bit darker, like that sort of red with hints of almost brown in it? Maroon? Gosh I can’t explain but I am certain you guys probably get it. Less like Wylan’s orangish red. Lastly: this girl has more freckles. I don’t make the rules. (Actually I do since she’s a daughter of my mind, but no I don’t.)

Bonus heartbreak:

Jordie.🥹💔 (obviously aged up to if he were alive.) notes: NO ONE. I REPEAT. NO ONE looks exactly how I imagine the elder Rietveld son. The actor here is in fact Jess from Gilmore Girls. Milo is the closest I’ve come to finding an older Jordie face cast, based more on book Kaz in relation. His hair would obviously not be styled like the early 00’s. Obviously dark eyes like his brother. In a way, like Kahir, I imagine Jordie’s eyes would have a permanent sparkle of amusement that one would sometimes see mirrored in Kaz. I can’t explain it. I love Jordie & I’m about to have a fit all over again. 🫡

Next…. Bram Rietveld (technically not OG character, but he is not named nor described whatsoever in the canon material. Kaz only says that he and his brother missed their Da.🥹)

Notes: DO NOT COME FOR ME. I AM DEFENDING MYSELF. Not to sound cringe, but from the moment I put Kaz’s Da into DWOD, back in memories at the very very early stages of the story, I pictured Pedro. This was before the internet craze (I mean obvs he was famous but iykyk), & I know that sounds cringe but it’s true. Pedro Pascal IS Bram Rietveld. Like, I would change next to nothing. Obviously his voice would have a “southern” ring. Maybe he’d have slightly lighter skin naturally being of Kerch descent, but actually I imagine him quite tan at most points of the year from running the Rietveld farm & harvesting the wheat fields. Obviously, you can picture him differently, but this is damn near exact for me. Also, Last of Us only solidified that belief for me. Gosh dangit, look at this treasure! Bram loved his kids so much.

Are you ready? (I’d say I saved the best for last, but… Actually, no. I certainly did.) I present…

Emilia Winstrad, The Butcher of Belendt🪡

Notes: I love her. I love Emilia as much as I love the protagonists from my actual novel. She means so much to me. 🥹 I don’t think I can quite explain how excited I was (& how long I waited) to introduce you guys to Emilia. I hope you love her as much as I do in DWOD. As far as technical notes: Rachel McAdams (this actress) has quite honestly the exact facial features I pictured on Emilia. Like Bram, I feel like this is Em. However, there are a few minor changes: dark eyes like Kaz rather than hazel (it’s hard to tell here), & also the same dark hair as Kaz. True black. Tbh, I was shocked when I stumbled upon images of McAdams randomly (after already describing Emilia in the story)- it felt like seeing a picture of an online friend you’ve never actually met but they somehow appear exactly as you thought they would? Make sense?

Bonus pics that show the darker hair I imagine on another actress. Also the pipe picture just for funsies (iykyk)🫶🏻🪓

She is my pride & joy. Not only that, but I think she and Kaz were meant to be family. I am not Leigh & have no canon voice, but I swear somewhere in the multiverse she is canon & I say that with fear because it’s not meant to sound precocious. She just feels so real to me, but I’m sure that’s silly bc I wrote her. Idk. Take my ramblings 🖤

Oops my hand slipped, have more pain: Elena Rietveld (I consider Elena an OG character of mine as Kaz’s mother is never mentioned in canon despite that he obviously had one. Technically, it is never said whether she lived or died.)

Sorry I killed her.

Notes: OBVIOUSLY these are pics of the same actress because Em & Elle are identical twins. However, I did choose an image of McAdams from earlier in her acting career as she did pass away younger than when Emilia appears in the story. The same notes apply here as to Em, dark hair & dark eyes would be the changes. Though, I do love this pic representing Elena as there is something a bit softer about her over her sister. Where Emilia applies blood red lipstick, Elle is a petal pink. I think that metaphor fits best, but undoubtedly I wanted Elena to have her own strength in the memories where we get to glimpse her. A woman who chose her baby son, Kaz’s life over her own. The type of mother who would have run into a burning building for her kids. A fierce little sun ray who deserved a yellow kitchen. 🥹

I actually have images & notes completed for Pim & Anika as well, plus a bonus lil one that I doubt ya’ll were expecting, but alas, there is a limit of 10 images on a post 🫠 So… let me know if you want them.

This was so long. I’m long winded, but ya’ll knew that. I love you all so much. Thank you for being here. 🖤🐦‍⬛

#six of crows #kanej #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone #grishaverse #kaz x inej #soc #leigh bardugo #dealing with our demons #soc fanfic #dwod #ao3 author #six of crows fanfic #ao3 #original character #jordie rietveld #emilia winstrad #fanfic #six of crows spin off #the dregs #the battles of before #ketterdam

[sm0lprism]

I found your BG3 fic on AO3, having no knowledge of g/t whatsoever, and found it so cute that I had to come find your tumblr to learn more! And omg the genre is adorable! I’m loving your fic: Ria herself is such a little (tiny!) badass, and the dynamics with the group are so much fun to read! Your style is really descriptive, too, and conveys a lot in the small actions of the characters.

The first chapter had me cackling at the accuracy — Ria is only alive and not-eaten because Astarion likes the sound of his own voice so much that he talked at her until Official Cat Dad Gale could notice and stop him (“What’s in your mouth? No! Spit that out! That’s people! Bad vampire!”). He literally cannot get out of his own way.

I’m so excited for the next chapter! Poor Ria, that her ally in finding Minthara is the smoothest brain in the party. And this will not be easy for Astarion to explain to the rest of the crew that *this one time* he actually wasn’t trying to eat her. So worried for our teeny friend! I guess worst case scenario… at least he’s undead? So, maybe Ria isn’t in *as much* danger, maybe? Would be kind of hilarious if Astarion knows so little about vampirism as to not even know that eating solid “food” (ie people) doesn’t agree with his undead organs.

So looking forward to Ria meeting Minthara! Ria may be small, but she’s still a tough little lass and I can see Minty respecting that.

Oh my goodness anon, you have no idea just how much this comment means to me - this has made my whole day, no, my whole week, and if I could frame a comment I would frame this one and hang it on my wall. It means even more since you had no idea what g/t was prior to reading my fic, and that is honestly so special to me that you took the time to read it (and liked it!!) and leave such a thoughtful comment. All I can say is welcome to the g/t community! It makes me so happy that you found the community through my fic and I hope you enjoy it! I have been laughing so hard at your description of Astarion finding Ria in chapter 1 and Gale being a cat-dad, like, I actually don't have the words because it's so goddamn accurate and hilarious all at the same time!! As for the latest chapter, I promise that Ria will not be taking a trip down Astarion's throat, so you needn't have to worry about that. Although if he were to swallow, it would be very bad for Ria as I believe in game Astarion can consume solid food, it just doesn't hold a lot of nutritional value for him. However, in my fic, vampires do in fact consume borrowers quite actively for their blood, so it would be a grim end for Ria if he were to actually eat her. ;w; Fortunately for her though, he has developed a small soft spot for her now so she'll be okay <3

Ria's encounter with Minthara is not going to go well. ^^; I don't want to spoil too much, but seeing as how Minthy was involved with trading borrowers for their blood in my fic, she thinks very lowly of them which you'll see in the next chapter when I get around to writing it. Anyhow, thank you so much for your comment. I actually can't stop smiling since I read it and it's probably the best feedback I've ever received for a fic, so thank you anon. <3

#i was wondering if the non g/t fans would find my fic and i am pleasantly surprised!!! #this was not the response i was expecting but it makes me so incredibly happy #thank you so much anon!! #ask

[kenobster]

The more pressure there is on creators to tag/warn (aka rhetoric like "its okay if ppl write [blank] as long as its tagged" rhetoric... discord servers that have heavy CW rules... comments/asks requesting certain topics to be tagged...), the less interest I have in actually tagging anything whatsoever.

Movies are a different beast perhaps, but, as an avid reader, I've never stumbled across anything unexpectedly dark or triggering in a book or a fic. The author's opening passages or chapters have always prepared me for the eventual nature of their story. The style, the tone, the synopsis, the foreshadowing — they have never failed to indicate an oncoming scene descriptive or explicit of something dark or uncomfortable. When I stumble across those preparative breadcrumbs the author has left me, it's true that I sometimes feel temporary discomfort... but I'll hit the back button or close the book or exit the app, and that extremely mild unease is soon forgotten. (If it is not forgotten, then I am grateful for the reminder to schedule my therapy appointment or spend time with a friend or find some other kind of tactic to address such unhealthy rumination. And even if I cannot address it, I'm aware that any attempt to avoid it will only worsen my tolerance for uncomfortable encounters in the long term.)

I can sort of understand the pressure in some scenarios. Perhaps a discord server would like to be inclusive of minors without legal repercussions. Perhaps a user is constantly filling a popular tag with triggering material without any warnings or tags. However, there are times when it makes less sense. A discord server dedicated exclusively to darker themes (especially with a small userbase) needn't mandate the use of trigger warnings. A tumblr user needn't tag every mention of "blood" or "vomitting" just to satisfy the possibility of one or two uncomfortable followers.

I support tags. I support warnings. I support information.

As long as it's voluntary.

The use of warnings and categories and tags and 18+ pages is the solution to any need for censorship. However, when such things become an expectation, rather than a choice, this wonderful solution so easily veers straight back to the slippery slope of censorship. "Fic authors should tag for noncon" so easily becomes "authors who don't tag for noncon aren't allowed to write noncon at all," which so easily becomes "authors who don't tag for noncon are abusers themselves." And throughout the process, the definition of what constitutes "noncon" will expand and expand and expand. In this way, the impetus is shifted right back from the reader (who can curate their fandom experience) to the author (who becomes responsible for reader discomfort). I am hardly the first to talk about this, nor is this the best way I've seen it described — but it is a problem that concerns me deeply.

In our interpersonal relationships, I think most of us do understand the difference and agree on the issue. For example, I am triggered by animal death or harm. If I see too much related to the subject, I will be caught in a depressive episode that can last hours or days or weeks. I avoid movies that involve animals, and I religiously check relevant questions on doesthedogdie.com. However, if my friend comes to me for comfort because her pet cat is dying, I do not shriek at her for not considering my trigger or warning me first. Hell, I don't even ask her to stop. I sit there, and I listen, and I support her, because even though it's a trigger for me, I realize that sometimes in life we can't choose the subjects we encounter. We curate our experiences the times in which we can to make room for the times in which we can't.

AO3's option for "creator chooses not to archive warnings" is not a mistake; it's a feature. And as a creator existing in the current state of fandom, I consider using it more and more every day. Your discomfort with my writing's existence is not my problem, and my writing warns for itself.

#just rambling idk #long post #not SW related #fandom

[singsweetmelodies]

just wanted to say that your charlos tags on the notp post were a WHOLE ASS MOOD

like i can't deny the chemistry because i'd have a lifetime supply of smoothies from the level of 🍓🍊🍌🥝🍇 in those c2 videos. but i just cannot indulge in it whatsoever

i can't even point to a specific moment that turned me from 'oh they have a fun teammate dynamic!' to a full-blown hater ('hater' is a bit strong but close enough) but it must've been something to do with the fans...

anyways, just wanted to express my gratitude for those tags. nice to know that i'm not alone

darling anon!! thank you so much for this ask - and oh, bestie, you are definitely not alone. you are so not alone, and i am actually hugging you rn, because it's always fab to find someone who agrees with your ship opinion 👌 sorry to the charlos fans out there, but it just can't be for us. #rip

and that third paragraph of yours - ah, man, i feel you so much. i also used to genuinely enjoy their teammate dynamic a lot (loved watching the c2 challenges, etc etc.) and i also can't quite point to a specific moment when this changed? but i do know the general themes about it, and since i had an incredibly long exhausting day at work today, i'm quite in the mood to rant about them. i will do so under the cut, though, lmao, because goodness knows i'm in a petty mood tonight.

any and all passionate charlos or just carlos sainz fans - please do not click on the readmore, because i'm not going to be terribly nice to your fav here, i'm afraid 🙃

so for me, when i first got into f1, it wouldn't have been inaccurate to say that i kinda loved carlos sainz. i loved the carlando/mclaren videos, and i loved the c2 challenges. he's funny, and he's pretty, and he has a cute dog, and he drives for ferrari... what more could you want?

the thing is, though. i am a charles girlie first and foremost. even though i liked carlos, he was never on the same level as charles for me. especially not in terms of driving - because, well, just look at the start of the 2022 season. enough said.

what started getting to me was that group of passionate carlos fans (the carlos girlies) who seemed to seriously think that carlos is a better driver than charles. they would slander charles and call him an inconsistent/reckless driver, while saying carlos was so much better. obviously, this rubbed me up quite the wrong way. and then at the same time, i was seeing carlos on my screen giving interviews where he would insist that if he'd had a few more laps, he would have overtaken max's red bull. like... i'm sorry, but that was never going to happen. in any world. pffft. (my thoughts at this point went: arrogant! he thinks he's better than he actually is.)

so that got me to like carlos himself a little less, which obviously has an influence on the ship as a whole. i mean, it would be hard to like a ship if you only really like one of the two partners in it, right? right? this is what i've always thought, anyway... except that a lot of charlos shippers seem to like carlos a lot more than charles. which is to say: in so many of their fics/characterisations, it's all glorifying carlos, while charles is essentially his arm candy with all the character depth of a rather pretty paper cutout. less than ideal...

the last thing, and perhaps the pettiest of all, lmao, is just that i'm incredibly possessive and insane about piarles. i acknowledge it. in fact, i fully own it. they are my ship, and i want them and only them to be endgame, always. now, obviously i don't expect everyone to agree with me 😂😂 but i don't particularly want to be seeing any content on my dash that features charles/anyone other than pierre as an endgame ship. and charlos usually is portrayed as an endgame ship/they're meant for each other etc. etc. well, sorry. to me, charles is meant for pierre, and pierre only. charlos is out. the end 🫶

#asks & answers #anon #anti charlos #anti carlos sainz #i always feel a bit 🙈 about using full-blown anti driver or ship tags #but i'd rather use them so any people who do enjoy this ship can avoid this post #because my word... i am petty tonight #and petty me is NOT kind to carlos sainz jr #not even a bit #i would say sorry but i'm not 🫶 #man it felt SO GOOD to be unashamedly petty for a while #long days are long #but being a bit of a hater can always make you feel better 😌

[pjunicornart]

Late night ramble incoming.

It's been a hot minute since I've tried to write fanfiction/original stories. I used to write all the time, but as I grew up my focus shifted to my end goal project, Student's Echoes.

I used to write a lot of Undertale and Meet the Robinsons fanfiction, but sadly I got rid of most of the notebooks that had all that in them. I remember specifically hyperfixating on the Undertale Nerd and Jock AU, as I do now. It was my favorite AU then and it still is now (especially since recently I've seen it being remade without the problems).

The NaJ fic I was the most proud of was one I made for a ship. It wasn't about any of the "core" ships at the time. It was between Paperjam and an early version of an OC of mine, Mintalene (Mint). I remember in the original idea for NaJ, PJ was being hit on by a cheerleader-rabbit girl. I don't know if she ever had an official name, but I've always just called her BonBon. That's why her SE counterpart has that name. (I also could be completely misremembering this.) Anyways, Mint was essentially what I dubbed the "nicer alternative" to BonBon. She was sweet, had a little spark to her, and she actively called PJ out on his bullying bullshit. I specifically recall writing BonBon to be like... the jealous spoiled rich mean girl type. Which to be fair probably wouldn't have been too far off. It's funny remembering this fic because Mint now is totally different. She's now a college student majoring in theater/acting who has no romantic/sexual attraction towards men whatsoever. She's also notably more "punk" as opposed to "cheery" nowadays.

As for Meet the Robinsons style fics, I remember the classic "What if Lewis was never given up for adoption?" query. Which, funnily enough got revamped to who I call "Reboot Lewis". It hits a lot of the same notes the original fic did, just more fleshed out and you know... logical. Miscellaneous ones I did were about a lot of my AU Lewis'... but I did do another original one, this time focusing on a ship! Not between Franny and Lewis though, no. And definitely not Timecest. I refuse to touch that with a thirty-nine and a half foot pole. Seriously, they are father and son, gross. But Lewis and Lizzy. For those who are unaware (or you forgot), Lizzy was a character we only see briefly near the beginning of the movie in the first science fair scene. She's notably goth and she seems to have an infatuation for fire ants. Lizzy is the stereotypical "weird goth girl" I'd say. Like when Mr. Willerstein notes that fire ants have the tendency to bite people, she says "Only my enemies" and raises an eyebrow while still scowling. Later when the sprinklers are on and all hell is breaking loose in the gym, she can be seen in the background smiling like a maniac. Anyways I made a ship fic between her and Lewis. Why? Dunno, I thought it would be funny. Now I ship her with Franny and Lewis as a polycule, and all of them share the same bi for bi energy.

Yeah... I don't think a single one of the main/prominent one off characters in that movie are straight. Aside from Stanley and Goob, they seem straighter than planks of wood to me. But Lewis, Wilbur, Franny, and Lizzy are all LGBT is some way. I headcanon Lewis as bisexual, with a 50-50 preference split (however I remember a couple times where I would write him as an FTM trans bi boy, though this is not my go to headcanon). I see Franny as a bi girl with more of a preference for men, and Lizzy the opposite. Wilbur is just gay. You cannot convince me otherwise. I would always lean into these headcanons while writing these characters in fics. Like a line about Lewis finding a male classmate cute or Lizzy looking at a girl for an uncomfortably long time. You know, stuff like that.

All this to say that I kinda miss just writing short stories and longer works. Might try to get back into it one of these days. Maybe not for NaJ, but Meet the Robinsons. WE NEED MORE MTR FICS ON THE INTERNET! AND IF NO ONE ELSE IS GONNA MAKE THEM THEN I'LL DO IT MYSELF, DAMN IT!

Alright, I'm done rambling for the night.

#rosey rambles #late night thoughts #fanfiction #fic writing #meet the robinsons #naj #undertale

[brighteststar707]

Jumping into your inbox with another song from the musical that made me think of your fic. (sure is funny that it happened twice 😶) Got all emotional just now 'cause 'Requiem' from Dear Evan Hansen started playing, and I thought of Don't Say My Name.

Specifically Saeyoung as Zoe, who's left bitter and angry at the way things ended, leaving him with no closure whatsoever; Jumin as Larry, who's deeply hurt and upset at his best friend leaving them all behind the way he did, with so many things left unsaid; Rika as Cynthia, which, in this context, is honestly even darker, 'cause she's very much in a worst state of mind as we see her in the Secret Endings...

Overall, my heart is broken, and I had to share my thoughts with you <'3

Mia you've done it again! I used to love this song, it never struck me how fitting it is for this situation (though it's not surprising that Zoe's anger was always so interesting to me).

While (obviously) the Zoe/Saeyoung parallels really stick out to me, the parallel that hurts me the most is Larry/Jumin. Jumin would have done ANYTHING to help out V if he only knew the situation he was in. He gave him so many chances to explain himself, would probably have forgiven him if he did. But he did the most unforgivable thing of all instead, and sacrificed himself. I don't think that's something he will ever be able to come back from, and that thought wrecks me.

And the parallel between Cynthia and Rika is fascinating! You could probably explore this concept better than I could but I pictured this as her finding solace in the sun and the promise they've made to each other to find each other in the next lives. She cannot face the reality that he's gone without falling apart completely, so she holds on to those little things.

#also sidenote but you have no idea how excited it makes me to hear that things remind you of my fic #I sat with dsmn for so long sometimes i forget that it's being perceived by other people #but I appreciate you so much for the love you've shown it #faye talks #natasha-in-space

[demonslayedher]

if the hashira had had the opportunity to try being in an airplane or plane, how do you think each one would be at takeoff and be in the skies at once? it's for a homework *slyly hides papers for an au on dragons*

This Ask inspired me to write Crack Fic. I do not apologize for typos at this hour.

--

There had been delay after delay, but it’s finally almost time for take-off for this Mugen Airways flight. There was hubbub about changed gates, some boy upset about having to put his sister in checked baggage instead of a carry-on, and a last minute pilot and crew change. It’s a small plane, there are only three rows, and with the exception of the crew and one passenger, none of them have been on a flight before.  

In Seat 1A, we have Gyomei. He doesn’t have much anxiety or excitement; this is merely a way to get from one place to another. Next to him in Seat 1B, Shinobu has neatly put a book in the magazine pocket and stowed her bag, though she’s keeping handy some candied ginger. Across the aisle from them, Giyuu is 1C, and he’s taking up both arm rests. In the window seat, 1D, Sanemi is tapping his foot and has his forehead pressed against the window.

Behind them, Mitsuri is in Seat 2A, and dressed up in a beret like in Kimetsu Academy. She’s very excited, and when Obanai in 2B asks her if she’s nervous, she assures him she’ll be fine, as her Breath style often has her up in the air and flipping around, she’ll be fine no matter what this airplane has in store. Obanai, who already doesn’t like the enclosed space, tells her he doesn’t expect it to do any flips.

In 2C, Kyojuro is enjoying the thrill and anticipation. At last he cannot contain himself a minute longer and asks the stewardess with a mole on her face where he can buy a bentou. She thanks him for his enthusiasm but politely informs him that the inflight meal will be served only once they are safely in the air. Meanwhile, Muichiro in Seat 2D has no enthusiasm whatsoever.

In the back row, Zenitsu has found he’s got the window seat, 3A. The view will likely be terrifying so je thinks to offer switching, but then he looks over and sees Tanjiro guiding Inosuke to his seat, 3B. Now Zenitsu has to keep the window seat guarded, lest Inosuke try to bolt out of it mid-flight. Inosuke is on guard and looking all around at everything aggressively, as they are in the belly of a beast.

“You don’t need to be suspicious of them,” says Tanjiro, taking his seat by the window in 3D. “The luggage policy isn’t the desk agent’s fault. I do hope Nezuko will be alright down there, though.”

“I’m certain she will,” says the stranger who puts his suitcase in the overhead bin and brings it to smooth but forceful close. “No bumps and bruises ever bother a demon for long.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. We’re now preparing for take-off, so please keep your armrests and tray tables stowed and keep your seat in the full upright position.”

“I still don’t like the whole ‘no demons in the cabin’ rule. She’s a certified Corp service demon, too! She—” he says, but then gags on the cologne wafting from the man sitting down in Seat 3C.

“At least you’re lucky to be on the same flight as her,” he assures him, but in his mind he remarks that there was no luck about it. He has agents all throughout the Mugen Terminal. He suspected Kamado Nezuko might be capable of mastering the sun and wanted to find her, and then he had the good luck of finding out they were in the same airport. He orchestrated all the delays so that Nezuko would be luggage on his flight headed east, away from the sun. With the cover of darkness, his plan was to push the pilot out the window over the ocean and then return with his new possession before sunrise. The man in Seat 3C is Muzan, by the way.

“Hey. Armrests, Tomioka.”

“I leave seatbelts as a personal choice.”

Shinobu buckles hers demurely, then while staring straight ahead with a smile requests that Himejima fasten his too.

“It’s speaking,” grunts Inosuke.

Zenitsu responds, “That’s the captain, idiot—wait, this voice—”

“Um, sir?" a flight attendant says to Inosuke, "I think you’re a sir? Please remain seated.”

”Your lovely flight attendants will provide our inflight meal service once we reach cruising altitude. Now we invite you to relax and enjoy a very flamboyant ride today aboard Mugen Airways.”  

The plane then slams to a high speed, pushing everyone backward in their seats. Inosuke sees this an exciting challenge and jumps to a squat on his seat, one hand on the ceiling and another on the back of his chair which he yanks back and forth. “WHOA!! HAHAHAH!! SO FAST!! IT’S SO FAST!!”

“Inosuke, sit down—” SPRONNGGG!!! “AHHH! Inosuke, you broke the seatback! You were supposed to keep that upright! It’s going to come flying through my head now!”

“Would you mind keeping it down?” hisses Obanai, who must do enough hissing in place of Kaburamaru, who stayed home, as he preferred not to set himself up for bad movie title jokes.

Mitsuri clenches her hands against her thighs. “This is it!” she squeals.

“HA HA HA! It’s very fast!” declares Kyojuro, his arms folded. Muichiro wonders why they’re going so fast all of a sudden. Where are they going, anyway? For the purposes of this Ask response, that is irrelevant information. It is only relevant that their flight is headed west, chasing the sun.

Sanemi, despite himself, is getting excited. He’s never moved this fast before, it’s actually kind of fun. He looks to Giyuu to make a comment as such, but Giyuu is still staring straight forward, his arms resting over his legs now instead.

Shinobu found the initial inertia startling, but she’s already fine with this and anticipating the sensations of takeoff, which she can picture fairly well from a scientific perspective.

Gyomei, however, has found himself gasping. He doesn’t like this.

With an unnecessarily flashy BANG, the airplane takes off. Gyomei really doesn’t like this and his eyes burst with a stream of tears. Shinobu finds it about was she expected and is able to enjoy the sensation, Giyuu is unphased, Sanemi found it kind of scary but in a fun way, Mitsuri has burst out into a wide smile and squeaks a little “kyaa!” of a scream, Obanai doesn’t like the feeling but finds it tolerable, Kyojuro says “hmm!” at this surprising new sensation, and Muichiro is confused but kind of likes whatever is going on. Right behind him, Tanjiro had wondered if Muichiro was doing alright with all this because he was so quiet, but now his thoughts are all on how Nezuko must be getting thrown around. There is no space left in Tanjiro’s mind for any thoughts of how he personally is experiencing this. Muzan doesn’t care. Inosuke is cheering and bouncing up and down on the seat, and Zenitsu is

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH

A voice comes up on the PA. “Excuse me, this is your Captain speaking: SHUT UP.”

Up in the cockpit, Tengen slams the microphone down and gets back to manning the controls. “Sheesh, all that screaming isn’t going to let me concentrate.”

Next to him, Kagaya sips a warm cup of tea. He is the honorary co-pilot. Airline regulations wouldn’t allow him to be an actual co-pilot because he’s blind. “That’s amazing, Tengen. I didn’t know you could fly a plane.”

“We learn it in ninja school.”

“Really? Amane had to attend an accredited flight school. It took a long time,” he says, then takes another sip of tea, having no trouble with the physics of the plane still rising.

Meanwhile in the cabin, Zenitsu’s soul has left his body, so he puts up no fight when Inosuke uses him something to lean on while pressing his snout against the window. In the seat in front of him Mitsuri would love to also press her face against the window to appreciate the view of all the teeny tiny houses, but something doesn’t feel right. It’s almost like on those rare occasions when she eats too quickly, but, it’s different, and it’s urgent—

“Kanroji, here’s a bag—”

She stuffs her face into the paper bag Obanai already had open—he saw the change in color in her cheeks and acted on a reflex—and she hurls. When it seems she’s done she whimpers with her head between her knees, and Obanai wonders if he should rub her back. That’s a normal thing people do to care for someone in this circumstance, but not if one is a boy and one is a girl and they are not married, right? “Sorry,” she says, “I thought I wouldn’t have any trouble…”

“It’s not your fault. It’s an entirely different sensation. When performing your Breath technique you are in control of your own movements, whereas in this circumstance you’re getting moved passively by your surroundings. I will fight anyone who tries to fault you.”

“He’s right, Kanroji-san!” offers Tanjiro, leaning over from across the row behind them, “I—GUH,” he gags on the smell, “completely agree so—GUH—don’t worry!”

“No one asked you, Kamado Tanjiro.”

“I’ll take that bag from you, sir,” says the flight attendant. “Not that I can take it far away in a plane this small, though. You’ll still probably smell it just the same back there, but at least you won’t have to hold it.”

Obanai tenses and looks averts his glance away from the busty woman who was talking so close to him, but hands her the paper bag politely.

To his left, Mitsuri has sat up, but is keeping her eyes closed and one hand over her nose and mouth. “Thank you, Iguro-san,” she mumbles, but he hears her loud and clear and blushes mad, the extra heat in his face making this whole contraption feel all the more stuffy and confined.

Now that they are settling into a new normal, Sanemi is enjoying the view out the window. He’s never seen clouds like that before, wow! And now he has, and he’s bored. He flips through a magazine.

Muichiro is entranced by the clouds. Kyojuro asks him what’s out there, Muichiro answers, “Clouds,” and now Kyojuro is more loudly entranced by the sight of clouds too.

If Gyomei weren’t blind, Shinobu would suggest he relax by looking at clouds too. “It’s alright, Himejima-san. The scary part is over.”

“No. No, this the scary part. There’s nothing beneath my feet, Shinobu. It’s completely absent.”

“Your feet are as firmly planted on the floor as mine. There’s no need to be silly.”

“It’s a paper-thin floor looming above nothingness!” he snaps back, whispering as though he doesn’t want to make anyone else panic. "We are paper-thin floor away from falling to our deaths!”

“Himejima-san, please,” she pulls him lower so that she can whisper closer to his ear. “Everyone looks to you as a rock of support, and you need to hold it together.”

“Hold it together? This whole rickety plane, you mean?”

“Here, have a ginger candy.”

“No,” he sits up and turns away with his arms folded very tightly. “It tastes too strong.”

“You’re acting like a child…”

“Namu Amida Butsu, Namu Amida Butsu, Namu Amida Butsu…”

Sanemi is bored of flipping through the magazine. He looks all around and sighs. The only thing left to do is strike up a conversation with someone, anyone. That 'anyone' is Giyuu. “Some flight, huh?” he says.

Giyuu says nothing back.

Sanemi is annoyed, but then concerned. Could it be that Giyuu has been scared stiff this whole time?”

“Hey. Tomioka. Hey!”

“Yes?”

“I know it’s scary, but it’s going to be alright. The flight will be over before you know it.”

“Air travel isn’t frightening.”

Giyuu leaves it at that, and he totally means it. Sanemi is ticked off and goes back to looking at clouds.   

Tanjiro is not at all enjoying the array of smells. It’s getting to him, and he wishes he could open a window. Instead, Muzan asks him to close the shade. “Oh? I can, sure. But wouldn’t it be nice to look at the clouds?”

“Please. Close. The shade.”

“Alright,” he agrees and does as asked. Muzan is getting impatient with how long it’s taking to get away from the sun. As he understands, he boarded an east-bound flight and should be zooming away from the setting the sun, thereby resulting in a relatively earlier onset of night.  The problem is that in actuality, he boarded a west-bound flight.

“Attention, passengers. We’ve now reached cruising altitude. Your lovely flight attendants will be serving your inflight meal shortly. Drinks were forgotten at the gate though, I hope you’re not thirsty. Except for you, Oyakata-sama. Have another cup of tea.”

“Why, thank you. The intercom is still on, by the way.”

“Shit!” he yells as he flips it off. He then huffs and concentrates with two hands on the steering wheel.

“It seems you’re still getting used to this.”

“I don’t have many flying hours, you could say.”

“Oh. Is this perhaps your first time?”

“No! I just… I just haven’t flown since passing my test, like, eight years ago. I’d have reviewed if I expected this. There I was thinking I was getting pulled aside and shown to first class because my wives are working the meal service, but then I got shoved up here to the cockpit to pilot the thing. How did they even know I’m a pilot? That’s supposed to be a secret!”

“I think I see what happened now.”

“What?”

“They were only told the pilot would have white hair in a ponytail. You caught their attention before Amane did.”

“Amane-sama was supposed to be flying this thing?”

“Yes. I was very surprised when you showed up instead.”

“You didn’t… you didn’t think to say anything before we took off? What if I hadn’t studied piloting at all, Oyakata-sama?”

“It’s alright. I have complete faith in you. It’s just going to be a simple trip now,” he replies. Tengen hears disappointment in his tone.

As the meals are served in the cabin, the reactions are varied. The food is not especially good or bad, but very blah. Sanemi and Giyuu both eat without minding it or each other. Shinobu knew the environment would make the food bland, but she came with a few seasonings prepared. She offers some to Gyomei, who says he doesn’t want any food if they don’t have vegetarian options. It turns out they do, but he was only saying that as an excuse because he doesn’t trust any of the food on this contraption, but now he’s stuck with it until Shinobu will apologetically hand back a full tray later saying he wasn’t feeling well. When offered a blindfold so that he can rest, she refuses on his behalf.

With such a lack of flavor, Muichiro hardly even notices that he has absentmindly feeding himself. Kyojuro, as a means of convincing himself and looking for the good in everything, declares after every bite that it is TASTY and the stewardesses find this endearing—at first. After five bites he becomes just another annoying passenger. Obanai declines a meal, and as much as Mitsuri was looking forward to trying it, she sadly turns it down too. Now her stomach hurts due to hunger in addition to everything else.

The flight attendent with two colors in her hair is about to offer a tray to the passenger in Seat 3A, but since he’s asleep, she asks the… human boy?... in Seat 3B if he wants two, and he enthusiastically offers to take both. However, he’s very disappointed in what he sees. “What is this? No tempura?”

“What do you think we are, Wisteria Airlines?” she sneers back. But she also counts up the extra trays she’s carrying and offers him those too, which he accepts anyway.

Muzan is very, very quick to refuse a meal. Tanjiro accepts one, he might as well though he isn’t feeling in the mood with all those smells going on, but he knows it’s good to get steady nutritional intake. As he opens it, though, something finally hits him.

“There’s a demon on this flight! I smell one!”

“Of course there is. You must be smelling your sister in checked baggage.”

“Don’t be alarmed, sir. If there is a demon on this flight, the Pillars and I will protect you.”

Muzan is inwardly fuming with impatience for the sun to set. Why hasn’t it set??!?

Back in the cockpit…

“I see. I see. Thank you for calling. Take care. I know. See you later,” says Kagaya, who ends the call on his phone, which is decorated with a crow accessory. “That was Amane.”

“Are you supposed to be able to use cell phones…? Nevermind, go on.”

“There was a mix-up at the terminal. It turns out I’m the one on the wrong plane, not Amane. Silly me, wandering on after seeing one of the other passengers! She’s flying east as planned, and on schedule, too. But in the rush to get extra checked bags on this flight, it seems there was a cargo mix up.”

“…And…?”

“Please fly carefully.”

“My wives are on this flight, I’m already flying carefully.”

Kagaya takes another sip of tea and says, “It was very silly putting all the Pillars on one flight. Very, very silly.” Although he’s smiling, Tengen picks up on a frustrated sound.

Now it’s time for some turbulence.

The stewardesses are unphased. They deal with this all the time, and although Suma is fine with getting tossed around, she is still always afraid of what might be the cause of turbulence. Inosuke throws both hands in the air and cheers, thereby throwing half-finished trays of food in the air. Kyojuro laughs loud, and Muichiro, even as a surprised to himself, smiles!? Tanjiro sticks his hand across Muzan’s chest like he’s acting as a totally unnecessary seatbelt, which Muzan finds almost as irksome as the sunlight peeking through the windows. Sanemi is a mix of amused and scared again but as it keeps going he’s more scared, but with a glance up to unphased Giyuu, he gets frustrated and can’t allow himself feel any fear. Shinobu is surprised that there’s this much of it, but she’s not disturbed, and has the peace of mind to turn and offer Mitsuri a ginger candy to chew. Mitsuri quickly accepts and then swallows it whole. On a particularly rough bump, Mitsuri shrieks and then grabs Obanai’s hand to squeeze. Obanai passes out. Gyomei wishes he had a cat to hold to get him through this.

As Tengen is doing his best to keep the plane steady, Kagaya is doing his best to keep drinking tea, but it’s splashing everywhere. “You know,” he says, “had this gone according to plan, I’d be far over the ocean by now.”

“It would probably be smoother flying—out there—wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, yes. Amane tells me it’s going very smoothly. She even had the leeway to depart the cockpit and serve cocktails personally. We called those cocktails ‘The Sanemi Special.’ Those demons are now all sleeping peacefully."

"Demons? You were going to be on a flight of demons?"

"One in particular. The plan was that we were going to dump them all in the middle of the ocean. If that wouldn’t kill them, then they’d be stranded once the sun rose, we thought.”

There was another big bump. “And you’re telling me this because?”

“Because there was a mix-up in the cargo. Please fly carefully.”

Things have gotten really bumpy, but the stewardesses are still trying to do their job. Makio, who has just finished cleaning up Inosuke’s mess, says to the yellow boy in Seat 3A, “Excuse me, sir. This is a non-smoking flight.”

He hisses out a puff of smoke. “Thunder Breathing, First Form…”

“Let’s do that all again!” Inosuke pleads with her. She is about to explain it doesn’t work that way when they hit another really big bump. Gyomei screams higher and louder than anyone. Kyojuro has finished his meal and at last turns to Muichiro and asks in a very serious tone, “Is it just me, or do you think there’s any demon interference on this flight?” Muichiro ponders it, then agrees.

And then an explosion happens. It’s really flamboyant.

Tengen is doing everything in his power to deliver everyone to as safe a landing as he possibly can, but it’s still going to be a hard hit. “Eject, abort, whatever, hit the deck!” he screams into the intercom, but when impact happens, he has to make the difficult split-second choice to save Kagaya instead of going to the cabin to collect his wives. Lucky for him, Kyojuro is also on this flight, and saving this number of people from death in a crash is easy-peasy for him. It’s even easier when not everyone needs rescue; he’s got the three stewardesses safely handled, while Muichiro has saved himself, Sanemi has saved himself (having been alerted by Giyuu very calmly telling him to be prepared an instant before Sanemi would had thought to), Giyuu looks like nothing has happened whatsoever, Shinobu has saved herself, Inosuke has saved himself and had fun the whole way down, Mitsuri has saved herself as well as acted as a cushion to Obanai’s fall, Zenitsu had Thunderclap and Flashed his way down through the exploding cargo area to rescue Nezuko and her box, Tanjiro is somewhat injured but more or less alright and Kyojuro reminds himself that he should make a Tsuguko out of him, and that leaves the last passenger as a demon so it’s rather disappointing that he won’t be injured even if he stays in his seat. That does leave Gyomei, though, and he’s heavy, so this gives Kyojuro some difficulty.

They’re all alive! Kagaya calls Amane to give her news and tells her to enact Plan B, open the trap door under the demons and then fly the plane back. Everyone is accessing themselves and each other for injuries, and then out of the wreckage comes Muzan. He laughs about that isn’t enough to kill him, and thanks to them all being such sissy rule-followers, none of them had their pesky Nichirin blades in their carry-on baggage.

It’s as he’s cackling that another explosion goes off behind him. The wreckage of the plane falls away in the wind, and then there is nothing left to cast a shadow. Muzan gets burned up by the sun.

And now I’m going to go crash into bed. The end.

#kny silliness #my fics

[folklauerate]

It wasn't you that wrote that santhony fic but all the rest checks out, too many bitches in this fandom fake love Kanthony seeing the god awful and out of characters fic your write and how much you love to bring Siena into their relationship and have Kate and Anthony cheat on each other. Also I can't wait for Bridgerton to cast Sophie since you like to invent gay ships and ignore the existence of canon women of this saga :)

I wonder if the anon message someone sent me earlier was from you or from someone else, and that anon sent you a screenshot of what they sent me and you two have discussed it together! That, you silly billy, is fan behavior <3

This has really tickled me because it couldn't be further from the truth, and so, I really wonder how much of my work you're 1) reading and 2) comprehending and 3) if you have any reading comprehension skills at all whatsoever. I think this message proves that you do not.

Honestly, I feel as though I really don't write anything remotely angsty lmfao. I don't write them cheating on each other or in relationships with other people because I personally cannot always handle writing certain subject matter because it makes me a touch sad! You can come comb through my AO3 and see that this is exactly the case.

That being said, even if I did write those things, it is none of your business that I do. It's literally fanfiction. Since the beginning of fanfiction, from the dawn of the internet, people have been writing and shipping random characters together for their own fun. For me, at least, I enjoy having a creative outlet and exploring different scenarios, and I would never begrudge another person to write whatever they want and whomever they want. If I don't like a certain ship or the setting of a fic--I don't read it! It is as simple as that! And I certainly don't take time out of my day to go into the inbox of someone on tumblr and send them a cowardly anon message, riddled with untruths, that is only spreading hate. Funnily enough, in attempting to "stick up" for "women" and/or "woc," you are quite literally harassing a woman of color, who, I assure you, does not at all have the same amount of money or connections or influence Simone Ashley does. You are quite literally sending hate and rude comments to someone who faces plenty of racism, sexism, and homophobia, and who lacks the privilege wealth and influence might provide as a shield that a very famous actress does. On what planet is continuing to harass someone anonymously--which you do because you know that these comments are wrong, and if you sent them from your actual account, you'd be reported and lose your privileges on the internet, and rightfully so--defending the very same people you claim to love and "stan"? Do you think they would cheer and be joyful that you are spreading such hate and vitriol in their name? Do you think anyone in their right mind would support such actions?

I know that this sort of misplaced hatred comes because you lack power and the ability to have control over your own life, and likely because you are deeply unhappy with yourself. While I have never taken the time out of my day to harass and spread hate in this way, I've suffered from feelings of depression and unhappiness before, too--a lot of people have. I promise you, this is not the way to find happiness with your life. It is not the way to feel any power over your life, it is not the way to feel any joy or find meaning out of your life.

If you need to speak to someone about your feelings, I urge you to call up a friend. I urge you to write a letter and then throw it away. I urge you to get all these feelings out of your head and then take a long, nice walk, with good music. Find a hobby--you can even start writing fanfiction, which is free, fulfilling, and you can do it in your own free time that you will now have because you've stopped spreading hate, and you can make friends who share your interests!

There is a brighter, better world out there, and I want you to discover it for yourself. You will feel so much more fulfilled and happy with your life when you do. Yelling at people you don't know online and sending them hate messages is not the way to live a happy, fulfilled, meaningful life. It is not the way to feel content and at peace with yourself. It is also not the way to make friends! Anon, let me tell you something; I have written plenty of fanfiction about Kate and Anthony. A lot of it is actually quite good. When people are kind to me and are my friends, I send them snippets of that writing before I put it up on AO3, just because I know they'll enjoy it. I talk about AU ideas with them, I talk about characters with them, I make jokes about those characters! It's fun. It's nice. I could do all of that with you, too, if you were kinder. Lucky for you, I am quick to forgive and like to see the best in people. I urge you to look for the best in yourself, work on yourself, and then come back. It doesn't have to be this way.

[idyllic-affections]

Yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo

Tis' I, 🐉Anon!

I enjoyed those brainrots between you and Kaixserzz about Kaveh and Younger sibling![Name]'s relationship with each other and their... "differing" views of their mother, to say the least- and how it affects their relationship as the siblings grow up. I always enjoy those sort of part-character analysis part-drabble fics(?) That really dive into the perspectives and nuances of the characters, as well as address the issues that come up with issues like your mom deciding to bounce and re-marry… while both her children are still clearly wrestling with the grief of their fathers’ death (and one of them maybe or maybe not blaming himself for their death). Quite the intriguing read all around! The dichotomy was just lovely.

And oh yes. Yes yes YES! Dragon parents for the absolute W I N!!! Dude, dragons are the absolute coolest fantasy creatures, it ain't even up for debate. And dragon babies going through their growing pains ;-;Since dragons are reptilian, do you think they shed their skin like irl reptiles do? I imagine it'd be as painless as the horn shedding (I can't get the image of somebody witnessing that for the first time- maybe while giving the lil' guys™️ headsets and unintentionally brushing up against a horn- and just fucking FAINTING on the spot from sheer shock).

Oh oh, imagine dragon parents waking up (or getting woken up) to their dragon kiddies teething on their horns of tail, they're a tiny bit annoyed by it, but also find it really cute, so they decide to be wilfully ignorant for that moment.

Oh oh oh, you know how often in fantasy settings, how dragons tend to have "hords" of valuable items (most often loads and loads of prescious metals and gems… which would be oddly fitting for Zhongli, in spite of his horrible financial skills lol). Imagine the Dragon kiddos having their own little hords, but rather than gold and jewels and gems, they collect pretty looking rocks, feathers, sea shells (from visits to the beach with papa dragoon)... and maaaaybe some gold/mora/credits that they just so happened to find strewn around the streets.

hi lovely hello!!!! i'm sorry that this response is a little late but i am here to reply now ajskahahf <3

that's why i love having those kinds of discussions! it really creates a good opportunity to exchange thoughts and ideas about how such a specific scenario might affect each child differently. there is a ton of nuance in issues like that. i personally cannot sympathize with faranak. i don't like her. i don't care if she turns out to be genuinely sweet like kaveh. i do not like her whatsoever and i don't think her actions are justifiable. but from a writer's pov, it is... a lot more nuanced than that. and that's why i find such discussions to be really fun and enjoyable!

YESSSS DRAGON PARENTS...... pleasejshssng...... that is such a good question though! i feel like they would shed. or maybe some specific types of dragons would shed. but if they did shed...... imagine them taking little baths with warm water to help make it easier... i feel like that could be very soothing and comforting, especially if the dragon has a friend helping (because sheds have been known to become stuck sometimes, so i imagine it would be helpful to have someone gently hold on to the skin. i am planning on getting a snake soon so i have a handful of random bits of information related to this kind of thing stored in my brain!). i definitely agree that it's painless, though. AND THE HORN SHEDDING THING LMAO I LOVE THAT fucking PASSING OUT because the poor victim--who is presumably not a dragon of any kind--is just in pure shock

PLEASE teething on their horns and tail... i imagine it would be a little uncomfortable, but it's just very cute because this baby has the most innocent look in their lil eyes. and dragon parent also happens to know that it's probably helping relieve some of the pressure caused by their teeth coming in, so... they just deal with the slight discomfort it causes. maybe they also gently chide their kid later, but it's not severe punishment or anything.

YOU KNOW. AS SOMEONE WHO HAS A LITTLE HOARD OF GEMS AND MINERALS... i like this idea. i grew up collecting seashells and pretty rocks and honestly it's such a cute idea that the dragon children would do something similar. also you're so right about zhongli AJSHAKFHSNZG

#aphelion replies: 🐉 anon 🌸

[kingeorgey]

the reception to ‘Faithless and Mystic, Faint as Can Be’ on ao3 has blown me away. i know i don’t reply to comments or reblogs (i get really anxious replying to comments) but they mean the WORLD to me. i obsess over each and every one.

as my thanks for reaching 1,000 hits, i present to you:

Things About “Faithless and Mystic, Faint as Can Be” that Only the Author Knows

1.) I kind of hate the title because it doesn’t fit anymore (see #2)

2.) This book was never meant to be a book. It was going to be a roughly 15,000 word 3-chapter fic, purely about the group’s first meeting post-cyclone. I was as shocked by The Kiss as the audience, and that’s when I made it a full length fic.

3.) I don’t know why I decided to put poems at the beginning of the chapters. Just for fun, originally. Now I feel like I’m committed. The first 3 chapters, I had the poems decided beforehand. Since then I either do it towards the end, or right before I upload. Is it pretentious? Slightly. But I’m committed now.

4.) I do not write characters if I don’t know their favorite ice cream flavor. Whether it’s Ricky or Penny, or the bully with one line in chapter 5. There are some tossups, though.

5.) Ricky’s dad, Henri, is actually Henri-Pierre Potts. He and Victoria met at a French-Canadian speaking university in Sudbury. Uranium was only a 40 minute drive from their post-uni jobs, and real estate was cheap, so they got a nice house and stayed there. Victoria’s maiden name is Charlotte.

6.) The Potts are not devout Catholics whatsoever, just put Ricky at St. Cassians because they make good money and figured it would be a better education. Ricky’s disability (better put, how others treated them) played a big role in their shift away from the religion- will be expanded upon in future chapters or a future oneshot.

7.) 99% of this book has been written with Peaky Blinders in the background.

8.) Mischa is roughly 6’5. Eastern Europeans tend to be pretty tall and I come from a tall family- I thought all boys were 6’3 minimum until I got into high school and 6’0 was considered tall. (I’m just under 5’11 myself)

9.) I purposely do not mention Noel’s height, or whether he is cisgender.

10.) I cannot, for the life of me, write Constance Blackwood. Ocean is a struggle, pretty neck and neck with Noel. The other three are extremely easy to write.

11.) Penny’s height is never explicitly stated, either. It’s mentioned that she’s small, yes- but, was I talking about her literal appearance?

12.) Victoria Potts cannot handle raw meat in any capacity. If Henri does not do the cooking (which, in chapter 4, we learn he does) the Potts don’t eat meat. My older sister is like this, I find it an interesting quirk.

13.) The kids are going to have a homecoming dance / end of autumn dance. I know that’s American, but I’m the author and my fanfictions are dictatorships. The Ricky and Penny interaction is going to be gloriously teenage boyish.

14.) Titling the chapters is the absolute last thing I do, and it’s one of my favorite parts.

15.) So far, one of my favorite moments as an author has been the ceramic plate metaphor in chapter 4 (I think) when Mischa stays the night at Ricky’s. This fic has really pushed my writing beyond what I thought it could be and even though it’s kind of stupid, the ceramic plate thing made me so proud when I typed it out. I’ve been consistently writing fanfiction since fifth grade (started with a One Direction trilogy, don’t ask) and now I’m in my third year of college. I’ve come a long way and I really do enjoy writing fanfic in my free time, it’s nice to write something I’m so insanely proud of!

That’s all for now- thank you endlessly for the support! 🤍

#jane doe #ride the cyclone #ricky potts #ride the cyclone fanfiction #penny lamb #constance blackwood #mischa bachinski #ocean oconnell rosenberg #noel gruber #spacedolls #rtc fanfic #fanfic

[iris-eyez]

Y’all something really dangerous is happening that could put the world of fanfiction in danger!!

So with the recent interest in fanfic people have been dying to get physical copies. And so book binding has become popular and there in lies the problem. There are people who are binding fanfics for profit which is ILLEGAL.

A lot of new people do not know this and are buying copies of fanfics like Manacled without much thought. Like why did I get an AD on INSTAGRAM to buy Manacled a well known fan fic!

I decided to do a little deep dive on Etsy to see if they were doing anything there and there were full on Etsy shops selling bound fanfic!

The ad on instagram seemed to be a company taking advantage of people not knowing the legal minutiae of fanfic and I know the Etsy shop owners probably didn’t know (I messaged them and told them to stop)

But yall we need to educate our new fanfic friends about history. The work we have done stands to be for naught should anyone find out about this!!!

For those of new generation of enjoyers here’s a quick rundown of fandom history as I know it!

Fanfic was not always appreciated as it is today! Many authors and studios felt as though fanfiction was infringing on their copyright and sent out cease and desist letters to authors in order to discourage fanfiction’s circulation!

That is why people labeled their fanfictions with disclaimers reminding readers that they did not own the characters! Anne Rice was notorious for sending her lawyers after people.

Idk when but I think there was a lawsuit that basically stated that fanfic has a right to exist but only as long as it did not infringe on copyright aka NO PROFIT WHATSOEVER!

Meaning you CANNOT and SHOULD NOT be making money off your work! That is why AO3 does not allow links to Ko-Fi or Patreon because the moment that they allow that then they could be in violation of the ruling and get shut down!

Book binding is a nebulous grey zone. But experts agreeing that no profit can be made off the fanfictions they are binding. And when we say none we mean none. You cannot even pay for materials!

Please boost this so that others know and let Etsy shop owners and others new to fanfic know too!

#fanfic #ao3 #signal boost #ao3 writer

[amywritesthings]

CHAPTER ONE: THE EXCHANGE.

The POINT A TO POINT B series.

gif credit @ sith-maul

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Escorting a former Empire prisoner of war to a Rebel Alliance safe zone? It should be a piece of cake. Absolutely no problems whatsoever.

A/N: Welcome to my first ever Mandalorian fic! This is a multi-chapter slow burn of Din/You, set somewhere in an AU in the vastness of The Mandalorian S2. The first three chapters are currently available on AO3. 

Next Chapter. | Series Masterlist

“He’ll be here any moment.”

That’s what they’ve told you for approximately an hour now. Your escort to the rendezvous point seems nervous. It’s in the way they bounce on the balls of their feet, shifting to check that you’re still sitting uncomfortably atop a toppled sliced boulder. Like you have any other place to run, hide, when they’ll always just find you again. That’s what the Empire will do and has always done: find people. In every crevice, in every corner; finding people is what they are good at, but according to whispers, they have never found him.

You should enjoy the fresh air because you may never feel it again. After being cooped up in the belly of an Imperial ship for however many years it’d been, the Earth beneath your boots should feel comforting, freeing. Sterilized hallways, blinding prison cells; the scent of death without the visual confirmation is burned into the very center of your nostrils, possibly forever. 

Legend has it the Empire will keep prisoners of war for decades. You’re lucky they found you when they did. Lost individuals that the rebel cause deems important so rarely make it out alive. From the privates to the convoy royalty, the Empire gives little thought to who wastes away aboard their vessels. Somehow with the right time and the right place, you will not follow the nameless faces so courageous in their endeavor for freedom. 

Yet you still feel nameless, faceless, while you await like living cargo in this indistinguishable forest. You shift your left foot, digging the toe of your boot into a clumped pile of dirt in hopes of finding ways to ground yourself before the ship arrives — before he takes you away — because all of this is temporary. 

Soon enough you’ll be on yet another clump of metal floating through the vastness of space. 

Point A to Point B.

“Do all Mandalorians not know how to tell time?”

Your escort scowls. “Child, I beg of you to be reasonable.”

“I’ll be reasonable when he learns to be punctual.”

“He’s a busy man.”

“He’s a busy bounty hunter.” 

As your gazes connect, your correction weighs heavy on your tongue. Rebel, Empire, for money or glory; they’re all the same. A spineless job, if you were to ever have an opinion on them. Selling oneself to the highest bidder and thinking nothing of the consequences that lay around them in the aftermath. War isn’t cheap, and there’s plenty of money to be made in the exchange of transporting precious cargo from this wasteland of an outer rim moon to Coruscant. Not all bounty hunters are made of legends, however, but this one?

There are stories about him. That much you do know.

Cunning. Ruthless. Doesn’t talk much if he can stand it, keeps to himself so much that no one knows who he really is, but a man of his word nonetheless. Something about beskar. Has more successful bounties than any other hunter on the market.

Some say he’s even honorable, but bounty hunters and honorable can never go in the same sentence if ‘cannot be’ isn’t present in the middle.

The rumbling overhead of a nearing ship halts your train of thought. Your escort stands at attention, fumbling with their hands as though riddled with nerves. You wait on the rock with mild interest as the ship descends towards the reddened dirt for landing. 

The wind picks up, forcing the stray hairs from your mangled braids to lick at your chin, the sides of your face. You wipe them away with a careless hand, squinting against the dying thrusters as they steadily decrease in strength. As the cargo bay door opens at an angle and burrows heavily into the earth, you stand to get a better look ahead.

What greets you is something you’ve never seen before.

A tall silhouette covered in silver armor slowly descends from the mouth of the ship. His chest plate shines in sections where the sun meets the branches of the towering trees, leather gloved hands balled into fists at either side. On his belt there’s a blaster, grapple wire, tap-activated bombs, and a heavy satchel. His boots, scuffed and unclean, shuffle the dirt beneath him as he nears your escort with silent purpose.

He has no face. 

The most feared bounty hunter in every quadrant throughout the galaxy stays completely hidden by a helmet forged in beskar.

And when he finally stops walking and turns his head towards you, you wait for him to reach up to remove it.

He doesn’t.

“Do you have the credits?”

His voice is deep, a gruff baritone that fights against the helmet’s modulator. Whatever you expected to hear, it wasn’t that. Although you’re certain his attention is pointed towards you, you have no answer to his question. Standing from the rock to dust off your clothes, you open your mouth to answer his abrupt inquiry with a question of your own.

“Of course! Of course.”

Your escort gets there first. 

Patting down their jacket, it’s met with a short aha! as a hefty sum of credits comes tumbling into their hands. They hold it out timidly, but the one they call the Mandalorian continues to watch in your direction. You shift your weight from one leg to another, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare back.

“And the coordinates?” he asks.

“Yes, right here.” Your escort goes to reach for the information, but he nearly fumbles with the credits still sitting there. “Oh! Take these.”

The Mandalorian finally considers what’s beneath him with the tilt of his helmet, grabbing the credits to place inside the pouch at his right hip. Your escort goes off on a tangent of the agreement already made from the holovideo transmitted to him from a previous day, but you don’t care to listen. It’s the same story, different tune: once in woe, another in pity, but this? This was their opportunity. 

Safely transport a princess of value from this godforsaken moon to the city of Coruscant, and you’ll earn your other half there.

Your legs start to make their way towards the exchange on your behalf, curiosity getting the better of you as you continue to stare at the sleek appearance of his armor. Maybe the helmet was in place for anonymity, a smart decision in any case. You picture someone angry under the beskar, torn from war and cantina fights. You’d wager a scar here, a scar there.

“...and under no circumstances should harm come to her, is that understood? This is your most valued jewel. I’ll see to it that your ship receives the repairs needed on Tatooine, and the rest?” 

The escort finally draws in a long inhale, nose flaps elongating and contracting. 

“The rest I leave in your hands.”

“I’ll need to make a few stops along the way,” the Mandalorian says, hand falling to his hip.

“I’m afraid you don’t have time for that.”

“Did she pack a months’ worth of food?”

It’s the first time he’s suggested your presence. Both you and your escort look at each other for the most polite way to say no .

“Then those stops will be necessary.”

“But you know who—”

“The Empire isn’t that close,” you interject, starting on a walk past your escort and the Mandalorian towards the resting ship. “The more we talk, the more we’re wasting time. We can stop for supplies.” 

At the squeak of protest from your escort you turn on a heel to raise your brows, unimpressed. 

“The rest is in his hands, right?”

The helmet cants towards you, but you don’t wait for his response as you turn to walk up the landing ramp. There’s no need, not when your fate is sealed in Empire signatures and Rebel-ladened credits. Even if you wanted to run back into that underground bunker your escort calls home, there wouldn’t be enough time to rip open the hatch and touch the ladder before the bounty hunter dragged you to his ship.

Stories are stories for a reason.

The hull of the ship is busy, crowded and full of strapped cargo and supplies. While the floor is clean, most of the space on the walls are designated for storage. The opposite of an Imperial warship; where those are clean and sterilized to the point of lifelessness, his ship is too busy. Crowded with supplies and half-muddied weaponry, pieces of various jobs and rewards in scattered piles, it’s as though he’s hoarding a bountiful cautionary tale. 

From the inside of a prison cell to an oversized storage tank. How lovely.

“Don’t you want to say goodbye?”

The Mandalorian’s boots carefully step with purposeful weight up the ramp behind you. Continuing to keep your arms crossed, you blink to view the peering escort standing in the dirt below you stumbling over their own two feet. Maybe it’s right then that you realize this will be the last time you can say you have ever been to this moon. Maybe it will be the last time you see your escort, though you can imagine the relief they’ll be in once you’re gone. 

Hopefully the Empire really isn’t that close — for all of your sakes.

“You were late,” you challenge, finally saying the one thing you wanted to utter since he’d arrived. The helmet stares motionless at you, unapologetic. “We can’t afford to waste more time.”

He hums, though whether it’s with disdain or in agreement you can’t tell. Not with the way the modulator fuzzies his entire voice. It’s disembodied, disingenuous. Like he really is just a lifeless hunter out for blood in the middle of the galaxy and not a person. Maybe that’s why everyone tries to hire him for their worst jobs. He’s yet to motion to remove his helmet, so you stay put as he mulls around the hull and presses a button to drag the inclined ramp towards the belly of the ship for departure.

One final look at dirt. At swaying trees and thick trunks etched with so many lifetimes. A swell of sadness, hopelessness, clutches at your heart — until the bay doors close and it’s just you, a crowded ship, and a Mandalorian.

“You should rest.”

Craning your chin towards the sound of his voice, you hear the thumping of his boots as he climbs up the flight deck access ladder. 

“It’s a long journey.”

“To Coruscant?” you ask, tugging the brown robe closer to your chest. Suddenly unwilling to be alone, you follow his lead and climb, careful not to slip. 

As you peer from the top ring of the ladder, the door to the cockpit slides open as he enters. If the ship was crowded in the hull, then it’s even worse up here.

“To Tatooine, then Naboo, then Coruscant.”

“How far are any of those planets from Coruscant?”

“There’s a spare room for you to sleep in through that door.” Entirely bypassing your question, he gives a brief nod to the closed door at the edge of the cockpit. “Keep left.”

“That’s it?” you ask as you stand in your robes, taking in the tiny blinking buttons lining the walls and consoles of the ship. The Mandalorian takes a seat at the pilot’s chair, pulling in a console to tap in coordinates. “You’re not going to tell me how far we have until we make it to Coruscant?”

“We can’t afford to waste more time.”

You still as a wave of uneasy anger hits your empty stomach when your hasty words are thrown back in your face. The engines roar to life as the ship breathes out an exhale, readying for the journey ahead. The bounty hunter continues to function as though you are a ghost, nonexistent in his presence as he begins the protocol to ascend from this moon. 

Like the credit exchange today and the prisoner rescue before it, it was never about you. It was about the principle of safely escorting precious cargo in the name of doing something good. A pawn of the republic. Old habits die hard.

One last look at this moon from the visor of a ship. 

Watching the way the blinking green lights shimmer off the dome of his helmet, you feel a heaviness hit you. It’ll take some time getting used to the gentle turbulence and disturbances that come with floating through space, breaking atmospheres and gliding past stars. Maybe you’ll never get used to bouncing from place to place as there is no end in sight. Coruscant is the hope; a safe haven. After years of living amongst silent metal, it almost sounds too good to be true.

You begin to leave, opening the door that leads to the mess section of the Mandalorian’s ship, yet a question flickers over your mind. 

Before you can stop yourself, you ask it.

“Are you really as ruthless as they say you are, bounty hunter?”

His glove stops mid-reach across the co-pilot’s console. For a minute, you think he’ll take off his helmet and confirm he’s as scary as the rumors that landed him this job. Instead he recovers, pressing a button that lifts the ship off solid ground. 

“Get some rest.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfic #fanfic #ao3 #reader insert #slow burn #slow burn fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #fanfiction #new fanfic #mando x reader