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wangxianficfinder · 1 year

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Fic Finder

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1. hello! i am searching for a fic where su she pretends to be lwj to trick wwx? i believe he traps lwj in a closet at one point. please help!

FOUND? seeds by antebunny (G, 3k, WangXian, SS & LWJ, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Identity Porn, Dramatic Irony, identity theft, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, the Inherent Romance of Being Known, BAMF WWX, protective boyfriend!wwx, simp!lwj)

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2. Hi, this is about the last anon ask y'all shared. The one about the missing fic 2 no 31. I think i was searching for the same fic. I remember a one shot where LXC and LWJ were going for food or coffee and they saw XXC and WWX on the sidewalk, and LWJ was jealous of how much WWX was touching XXC as they walked until he realized WWX was guiding him bc he was blind.

If it isn't the same, I would appreciate y'all helping me find it. Thanks for your wonderful work for the fandom!

FOUND? A sip of vinegar by Aki_no_hikari (G, 1k, WangXian, Modern AU, Pining, One-Sided Attraction, or so lwj thinks)

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3. Hey, I’m looking for a post-canon fic where there’s an assassination attempt on WWX with poison and LWJ is super protective and has to find the culprit. Thanks so much!

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4. Hi! Love the blog so much!!! Do you remember the name of the fic (from LWJ POV) where LWJ is in the airport on a dating app and swipes away from WWX who is (coincidentally) sat next to him and remarks on it? TIA xxx

FOUND? Ticket to Ride by mistresscurvy (E, 18k, wangxian, modern, online dating, road trips, service top, phone sex, dick pics, wedding banquet)

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5. Hey, I hope you guys are doing well. Please help me find this fic ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

So I just remember a tiny part of it :

WWX is accused of giving away war intel to the Wen by YZY in front of everyone. She pulls out some letters i think? Then to help the former, NHS brings in a handwriting specialist and it turns out to be YZY who wrote the letters. @utxqia

FOUND? Lessons relearned by Iamnotawriter (T, 44k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Not YZY Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inventor WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, No Golden Core Transfer, YZY Bashing)

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6. Hi, I hope you can help me find a fic! It's an abo one I think, where teen wwx is pregnant. The story is LQR pov where he overhears WWX tell LWJ and is really supportive! I think WWX was kicked out my Madam Yu, but I'm not sure?

FOUND? In which Lan Qiren eavesdrops and gets a new nephew (and grandnephew) out of it by h0peless_oblivion (M, 64k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, High School, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Mpreg, Teen Pregnancy, Shotgun Wedding, Good Uncle LQR, Madam Yu's A+ Parenting, Fluff and Angst, Family Feels, Unspecified Setting, Probably ooc, WWX Has ADHD, A-Yuan is Wangxian's son, Pregnant WWX, Humor, non-graphic birth, Family Drama, The Lans love wwx, Male Lactation, Mild Smut in later chapters, wangxian's canonical breeding kink, Tooth-Rotting Fluff)

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7. hello, i hope you're well. i love your blog and i read it often and now I have an ask to make ;) Do you happen to know a fic where WWX and LWY "pretend to visit a women in sleep and make them pregnant" in order to explain unwanted pregnancies and save a women's honor?

It is a crack fic but it has a lot of heart.

I read it maybe a couple of months ago, but i cannot find it anymore. I hope it's not deleted.

💕 谢谢，再见 @amrame

FOUND! Taking Responsibility by deliciousblizzardshark (T, 6k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Getting Together, Trope Subversion/Inversion, Pretend mpreg, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Fluff and Crack)

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8. I want to know ff name in which wei Ying is a female and he is going to live with male lan wangi, as he is her sister friend. In ff there is a line like " i am a man Wei Ying ". @yizhan12

FOUND? tell me what’s your motive by sweetlolixo (E, 7k, wangxian, modern, fem WWX, smut, size difference, older LWJ)

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9. hiii~! hope u all are having wonderful days! I'm looking for a fic that i think is cql centric? Anyways it's one where wwx and lwj start cultivating together? Like there are multiple scenes that suggest that they try to combine using cultivation. If that's too vague as a description there's this one scene where lan wangji finds his mother's letters and how she kills herself (?) and goes missing in the nighttime?

Sorry for the vagueness... it's been so long since i read it! 😅

FOUND! ❤️ Gentians in bloom by teawater (M, 251k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, AU after cold spring, Political Marriage, Dysfunctional Family, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, LQR bashing (not really), POV Multiple, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Eventual Happy Ending, BAMF WWX, JC is actually a lot better than canon, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, YZY bashing (again not completely) )

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10. Hello hello! I really want to read this fic again and I’ve given up on searching for it. It’s post-cql and a very fluffy fic. Wwx and Lwj share hazelnut cakes. They roam in Caiyi and meet a vendor lady selling combs and she tries to matchmake Wwx and her daughter. She tells them that they should buy combs for their beloved and I'm pretty sure Lwj was considering buying a comb. Please help! This has been bugging me quite a lot. Thank you and have a great day!

FOUND? I hope that you will come and meet me by feyburner (M, 28k, wangxian, post-canon, getting together, love letters, hurt/comfort, cuddling & snuggling, literal sleeping together, intimacy, first time)

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11. Hello mods, looking for this awesome AU I was reading where Wen Xu takes LWJ as his warprize at CR and makes him go through some horrible things. WWX tries to help him at the Wen lectures and LWJ refuses but they kind of get together after fighting the Tortoise. but then Wen Chao attacks the Jiangs and captures WWX. LWJ is NOT a courtesan and WWX isn't either, and the Wens don't have a whole harem or anything.

tysm for your help, been looking all over and I rly want to finish reading!!!

NOT FOUND! tarnish, lustre, gold by iliacquer (E, 22k, wangxian, LWJ/WX, graphic depictions of violence, rape/non-con, ABO, mpreg, forced marriage, forced/coerced pregnancy, infidelity, alpha WWX, omega LWJ, alpha WX, bottom LWJ, reproductive coercion, mating cycles/in heat, knotting, YLLZ WWX, domestic violence, whump, misgendering, happy ending)

FOUND! 忍辱负重 | to bear the burden of humiliation by dragongirlG (E, 106k, wangxian, LWJ/WX, WWX/other(s), WWX/WC, graphic depictions of violence, rape/non-con, sexual slavery, domestic violence, wen indoctrination, xuanwu cave, prisoner of war, warprize, humiliation, non-con bondage, non-con body modification, golden core destruction/melting, dual cultivation, revenge, whump, hurt little comfort, protective LWJ & WWX, hopeful ending)

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12. Hello, I'm looking for two specific fanfics.

A) The first one is about WangXian having an arranged marriage and Wei Ying in the beginning tries to get along with Lan Zhan but then when he notices that he's not very responsive he ends up being kind of like cold to him but in the end they do realize that they love each other also Wei Ying is mostly a stay at home husband and there are no original characters in this one. I'm pretty sure it has multiple chapters but I may be wrong.

B) The second one is a case fic one where WangXian go to this town where apparently the Yiling laozu is terrorizing but it turns out to be Jin Zixuns son who he himself has possessed and they solve it. The juniors were in there I think at least I remember Jin Ling was. Thank you so much in advance! @amaraxoxo98

12A)

FOUND? A Marriage Story by DeviyudeThoolika (E, 38k, WangXian, Sex is complicated, Angst, Pining while fucking, Mature elements., Mutual Pining, Arranged Marriage, Sort Of, Misunderstandings, of epic proportions)

12B)

FOUND? Don't Turn Your Heart by sami (T, 29k, wangxian, WQ/JC/LXC, JYL/JZX, XY/MXY, hurt/comfort, family, shenanigans, some violence)

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13. For your next fic finder... I've suddenly remembered this elusive fic. I'm pretty sure it was a canon era BDSM AU (in that people have inherent dom/sub dynamics), and WWX was a sub that had been raised/socialized as a dom by the Jiang sect. The fic was set during the CR study arc, and IIRC something happened in the library that caused WWX to drop hard, revealing the truth to everybody. It's not The Hilt Lies Well In Hand by HeavenlySkyfarer, or A Gesture of Companionship by Khashana. Help?

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14. Helloo I would like to request to find this fic in which I remember there was wei wuxian who had owned a diner? And it was like open until the wee hours of morning. I think he also had some eating problems? And sleeping problems? I also remember that he had cut contact with everyone except wen qing and wen ning who he had met after he moved away... I'm pretty sure lan zhan finds him first but the memory is a bit hazy since I haven't read it in a long time and I can't find it anymore 😭.

FOUND? ❤️ 不晚 | a lovely light by seagaze (T, 62k, wangxian, modern, midnight diner au, CW for eating and sleeping disorders, happy ending)

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15. Hi I was wondering if you could please help me find a fic? Basically the story starts off as this shadow always hunting wy so the whole Jiang dynamics changes as their protective of wy, later on come to find out that shadow following wy is his future self trying to kill him so he doesn’t “ruin the jiangs” or something along those lines, hoping u can help me as I’ve been trying so long to find this fic again 😭

FOUND? Beyond the Darkness by ULTIOcean (T, 73k, WangXian, WWX-centric, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pining, Oblivious WWX, A sprinkle of horror here and there, injuries, Blood, Canon Divergence, Different Beginnings, OOC for some characters, Mainly WWX JC and JZX, Follows the Donghua's events, Mystery, Copious amounts of affection, jc's dogs, Time Skips, WWX POV)

FOUND? Building a home by R95irth (T, 586k, CSSR/WCZ, JFM/YZY, wangxian, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, 3zun, BSSR/LY, MS/Sisi, canon divergence, time travel fix-it, everyone lives au, angst w happy ending, horror, nightmares, family fluff, found family, babies)

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16. Hi, for the next fic finder I need help finding 2 fics that I read on AO3. A) During the first siege Wei Ying uses the Soul Summoning Ritual to bring back Jiang Yanli's soul in his body and the Yanli runs to Jiang Cheng and says something like "A-Cheng it's me.". B) During the Wen Settlement days one morning Wen Qing walks into Wei Ying’s cave and finds him dead on his bed. I think he died due to an illness and Wen Qing wasn't suprised to find him dead. Thank you for your help. @bluekittenfire

16A)

FOUND! A Final Sacrifice by FrozenHawFlakes (T, <1k, major character death, Angst, Protective Siblings, Family Feels, family love, everything is worse off for everyone, except maybe JL, but he has another set of problems, What-If, Canon Divergence)

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17. Hi, could you possibly help me find a Lan Wangji x Wei Wuxian fanfiction? I had read it, but now that I am trying to look for it, I can't find it anymore. It was in a modern setting. Wangxian were already married but had many misunderstandings. Wuxian believed that Lan Wangji was in love with someone else named 'William Williamson'. Other characters that appeared were Lan Xichen, Lan Qiren, Nie Huaisang, Jiang Cheng. Lan Xichen had a whole thing going on with his relation issues too. Thank you.

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18. I can't find a fic where Wei Ying died at canon and woke up from coma in modern world where everyone is alive and good. And they think Wei Ying is dreaming. Wei Ying is also confused. Everyone is good even madam yu and fengmin. And he's also lan zhans husband there. Thank u

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19. Hello! I'm trying to find a fic that I read a little while ago. wwx is a dm and is writing a chinese inspired homebrew campaign and lwj is a publisher. wwx has a fox spirit npc and adds a dragonji character when he starts to fall in love with lwj. The story ends with lwj helping wwx to publish his system. Thanks! @worlds-of-else

FOUND? 🧡 Where’s Your Emergency? by trippednfell (M, 64k, WangXian, 911 Dispatcher WWX, Single dad LWJ, Kid fic, Modern AU, D&D Games, Angst with a happy ending)

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20. hii!!!! im looking for a fic in which wwx is badly hurt, and the lan doctor tells him that the only way he can survive is through dual cultivation. lwj immediately goes to do the deed because he can't stand wwx in pain. they get together in the end! but it has a little of angst! their first time is a little sad because wwx is very hurt but they love each other a lot and get quicly together! thank you

FOUND? as amber of ember glows by occultings (microcomets) (E, 11k, WangXian, Sex Pollen, Marathon Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, First Time, Miscommunication, Aphrodisiacs, pining for the person you're fucking, Getting Together, mostly) sounds like one of occulting's fics, maybe 'as amber of ember glows' but there are several along this line so I can't be certain?

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#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

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ladylynse · 2 months

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Secret Trio/Secret Quartet three sentence fics below the cut! For more like this, see my other three sentence fics/crossover three sentence fics, my tumblr fic masterpost, random WIP scenes and snippets, fic ideas, or find me on FFnet and the AO3! Also, take a peek at the fanart and fanfic I’ve been gifted.

If you like my work, you can consider buying me a coffee. (I write thank you snippets–which could be an expansion of a three sentence fic if you like!)

Adrien and Plagg (”watching idols”) Jake and Adrien (”painting” x2) Jake and Randy (“trapped”) Randy, Jake, (Danny, Adrien) (“rat”) Danny, Adrien, Randy, Jake (”Hide”) Adrien, Jake, Danny, Randy (”Jake, who is Rose?”) Jake and Danny (”TUE happened”) Marinette/Ladybug and Adrien/Chat Noir (”failed over and over again”) Adrien, Jake, Danny, Randy, Marinette (“redemption/corruption”, ”path of destruction”) Marinette, Jake, Danny, Randy, (Adrien) (”shoulder to cry on”) Adrien, Marinette, Danny, Randy, Jake (”Hello, Ladybug” x2) Danny, Adrien, Jake, (Randy) (”hey, guys, where’s ---?”) Adrien, Randy, Jake, Danny (”I-I can’t hear his heartbeat”) //death alt (more painful) version | follow up Marinette, Danny, (Adrien, Lila, Elliot) (”Lila and Elliot”, “liars”, ”two peas in a pod”) Lila and Elliot (”partners in crime”) Jake, Randy, Danny, Adrien (”power/mind swap”) Randy, Jake, Rose, (Danny, Adrien) (”meeting Rose post Hong Kong Longs”) | related Jake, Randy, (Danny, (Adrien)) (”80 word challenge”) Randy, Adrien, (Danny, Jake) (”ghost king au”, “ghosts vs magical creatures”) Danny, (Randy, First Ninja, (Adrien, Jake)) (”ghost king au”, “Danny helps Randy remain the Ninja”) Randy, (Danny, Jake) (”about being mind-wiped”) Jake, Danny (Randy, ((Adrien)) (”there’s no one left”) Jake, Randy, Adrien, (Danny) (”Danny tells them about Dani”) Randy and Marinette (”Ladybug mistakes one of the SQ for an akuma”) Marinette, Adrien, (Danny, Randy, Jake) (”SQ post ML reveal”) Adrien, Danny, (Randy, Jake, Plagg) (”temporary power swap”) Danny, Adrien, Randy, (Jake) (”identity reveal of Danny Phantom”) Susan, Jake, Jonathan, (Danny, Adrien, Randy) (”parents find out”) Adrien, Danny, (Randy, Jake) (”legacy”) Adrien, Jake, Danny, (Randy, Luka) (”snake”) Danny, (Jake, Randy, Adrien, Jack, Maddie) (”Fentons find out”, “angst with a happy ending”) Randy (”Randy remembers”) Adrien, Jake, Randy, (Danny) (”bee”) Randy, Jake, (Danny, Adrien) (”comic book”) Danny, Jake, (Randy, Adrien, Vlad) (”Uncle Vlad AU”) Danny, Randy, (Adrien, Jake) (”broken sky”)

Adrien, Danny, Randy, (Jake) (”siblings”) Jake and Adrien (”Rotwood”) Ladybug, Adrien, (Danny, Randy, Jake) (”reinforcements”) Randy, (Adrien, Jake, Danny) (”prophetic dream”) Randy, Danny, (Adrien, Jake, Ghostwriter) (”true friendship”) Jake, Plagg, (Adrien, Danny, Jake) (”that was you?”) Randy, Adrien, (Jake, Danny) (”frostbite”) Danny, Randy, Jake, Adrien (”first date help”) Adrien, Randy, (Danny, Jake) (”apocalypse”) Danny, Jake, (Adrien, Gramps, Haley, Fu Dog, Susan, Jonathan) (”escape from NYC) Randy, Adrien, (Danny, Jake) (”Stabby the roomba”) Randy, Adrien, (Danny, Jake) (”love square”) Jazz, (Haley, Howard) (”evil clones”) Adrien and Danny (”discovered”) Adrien, Randy, Danny, (Jake) (”war zone”) Jake, (Adrien, Randy, Danny) (”Miracle Queen”) Debbie, Theresa, (Adrien, Randy) (”cartwheel”) Heidi, Jake, (Howard, Randy, Danny, Adrien) (”busted”) now expanded FF | AO3 Jake, Randy, (Danny, Adrien) (”nasty sauce”) Bunnyx (”Chat Blanc”) Jacques (”inspiration”) Danny, Plagg, Adrien, (Jake, Randy) (”Box Ghost”) Plagg, Danny, Randy, (Jake, Adrien) (”blood magic”) Gabriel and Desiree (”be careful what you wish for”) Adrien, Jake, Randy, Danny (”what are you?”) Randy, Jake, (Danny, Adrien) (”he treats us well”) Randy, Jake, (Danny, Adrien) (”mermaids”) Jake, (Randy, Danny, Adrien, Gregory) (”arrogance”) Ladybug/Marinette and Adrien (”confessions”) Marty, (Randy, Danny, Adrien, Jake) (”entire world”) Danny, (Randy, Adrien, Jake) (”fire”, “reveal”) Jake, Danny, (Randy, Adrien) (”grenade”) Jake, Danny, (Adrien, Randy) (”mercenary”) Randy, Debbie, (Danny, Adrien, Jake) (”Debbie/Randy”) Adrien, Jake, Danny, Randy (”new year”) Jake, Adrien, (Danny, Randy) (”fallout”) Danny, Adrien, Jake, (Randy) (”stargazing”)

Now on the AO3 Randy, Debbie, Adrien, (Danny, Jake) (”Kangham”, “hide”)

#secret quartet #secret trio #danny phantom #miraculous ladybug #rc9gn #adjl #dp #gf #american dragon jake long #randy cunningham 9th grade ninja #three sentence fics #three sentence fic #my writing #ladylynse #fic masterpost #masterpost #guess where my links kept breaking

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tratshka · 2 months

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Doomtony parent trap AU were the champions + the ff childs try to bring Tony and Victor together again.

#I would eat that fic #doomtony #irondoom #crack ship #aus #riri and val are just done with seeing them being miserable so they team up #also riri misses the castle and val the access to Tonys tech

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courfeyracs-swordcane · 11 months

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Teddy... after being mutuals w you for who knows how long I NEED to ask... what does robobs mean? I've been paying attention to the tags on my notifs for a bit and I think that's the one thing I still have no clue about ahdkshfjshfjd

OH BOY! You’ve activated my trap card!

Short version: tag for me and the gang ( @nosongunsung11 @coyotefang1987 @wildfandom @lemonade-comet @dogliker73 )’s transformers ocs. When I first made the spreadsheet I titled it ‘Robobs’ and it stuck. In March we made a 120 slide power point explaining the lore and we’ve made like 20 new guys since then

LONG VERSION: (and I’m only getting into blorbos from MY brain bc there’s like 85 of these mfers collectively)(Guys who come in several separate-but-linked subsets)

(edit: now with images! picrews linked here, here, here, and here and art by @orange-artist/@nosongunsung11)

THE OGS:

Packet and Pinch: (turn into biplanes) little guys who came after the war, them and their dad sometimes moonlight on a research vessel called Forte Spes where theoretically they’re archival assistants but mostly what that means is that Pinch holds the microphone during interviews because when Packet was allowed to do that he kept eating it. When they’re a little older Pinch gets a proper job on Forte Spes helping out and Packet joins the mafia/eventually winds up inheriting an organized crime unit and accidentally taking over a small city (think like JVJ’s Madeleine era except not on purpose)

Hot Shot: (turns into a diy dragrace car) himbo. former Autobot soldier turned drifter (technically looking for one of his war buddies who disappeared but he keeps getting sidetracked) turned preschool teaching assistant on the moon. Frontman of a very small emo band. Meter’s twin brother, Aileron’s best friend, (Sweets isn’t mine, but) Sweets’s self-invited roommate (weird gay thing)

Meter: (used to turn into a regular car, now functions as a speedometer)(also his name is actually Gauge, Aileron just started calling him Metermaid to make fun of him and it stuck) wildly normal little guy for being so fucked up. Got his face and hands and altmode taken by the government for being an anarchist in cop college. Spent the war on the world’s most legally questionable enemies to lovers roadtrip looking for his brother. Hot Shot’s twin, Aileron’s husband.

Aileron: (turns into a massive fucking jet) pointedly neutral freelance journalist. Extremely chill and wildly pessimistic. Can and will befriend anyone with an unfortunate heaping side of terminal Everyone He Really Cares About Keeps Fucking Disappearing Into Thin Air disease. Spent the road-trip causing problems on purpose bc it was funny and also bc he was pretty sure Hot Shot was dead and he didn’t know how to tell Meter so he was stalling. Meter’s husband, Hot Shot’s best friend.

THE ANCIENTS:

Catalyzer (Cat): (left)(turns into a shield except no he doesn’t anymore because he has daddy issues) fucked up old knight. Kind of a dick except with his knight partner and her spouse (the three of them come as a set do not separate <3) and with his little sister (150ft tall). Memory issues wildly exacerbated by the fact that he spent ten million years on the euthanasia planet. There’s a very good au in which he co-parents his nephew w his ex’s ex-wife.

Firefight (FF): (turns into a flamethrower except no he doesn’t bc what if he fucks up his paint) Bitchass little twink. Catalyzer’s shitty ex who lobotomized him. The god of transformation’s special little boy and he’s gonna make it everyone’s problem. After the god war (during which he helped work on a large-scale lobotomy project that made everyone forget the gods) he realized that if there’s not gods to hang around he can’t get special treatment for being god’s special little boy anymore so he fucked off to live in a cave for ten million years and only came out for Cat’s little sister’s funeral bc he figured everyone who would have known him would be dead by now except spoiler alert no they’re not and he immediately gets his ass beat. We don’t have time to get into his wife.

Moonshadow (Shades): (turns into a shuttle)(uses that to cause problems) Catalyzer’s nephew (she/her), troublemaking Weird Little Art Girl TM who’s constantly tagging along on any mission she can get herself into. Unfortunately that includes the mission that lands everyone on the euthanasia planet :(

Equalizer (EQ): (turns into. Maybe a grenade. I haven’t decided yet) Firefight’s ‘apprentice’/weird intense son he didn’t ask for and doesn’t want and also is lowkey terrified of. Functions entirely on looney toons logic. Theoretically xey’re supposed to be helping FF w his lobotomies but he’s scared xey’ll be better than him and take his job so mostly xyr job is knocking people out with the blunt end of xyr Massive Fucking Scythe for their nonconsensual government-assigned brain surgeries and being generally unsettling. Spends FF cave arc waiting outside where he told xem to which xey're not fucked up about but it does make xem very much more fucked up.

Legion: (turns into I don’t know yet probably an anvil or a lever): Little knight guy under the god of wisdom. Dumb as a box of rocks. Trying so fuxking hard all the time and not really getting anywhere with it but that’s okay. Loves his friends so goddamn much. Really fuckin stupid for a guy who kind of functions as the voice of reason in the polycule. Died on the euthanasia planet. :(

Endymion: (turns into a unicorn)(but like the goat kind) goldenboy blacksmith, built to help the main god make guys, conscientious objector to the god war so now he helps out in the armory. Haunted as hell (just kind of vibing with it). Missed the mission that landed everyone on the euthanasia planet and got locked out of the armory :(

DECEPTICON HR OFFICE/EXTENDED CONSTRUCTION UNIT:

Zephyr aka Dreadnought: (used to turn into a flashdrive, tried to do some sketchy ass back alley surgery to turn into something better and fucked it up so now he can’t turn into anything) edgy little goth twink lying wildly about almost everything abt himself. Former spy, current guy who sits in the corner of the office chainsmoking and giving off absolutely rancid vibes. He’s writing a memoir. (it’s bad.) Gets Fixed by the power of Carburetor going “wow, do you have any other slogans from like. Hot topic?” and is really confusingly normal at the postwar HR reunion/Hadron and his boyfriend’s impromptu wedding

Carburetor (CB): (used to turn into a pickup truck, got exploded) readymade soldier who wound up taking over as mostly-untrained medic when the actual medic was killed bc he had spent a lot of time in the medbay recently (due to the getting exploded incident) and kind of osmosed hopefully enough to go off of. Takes no shit but has terminal “I Can Fix Him” Disease (both romantically and medically) but really he’s the one getting fixed—he has a hobby now! 😊 (it’s Zephyr)

Hadron: (serial number ending in 0104)(turns into a crane) starry-eyed little science guy with a secondhand soul. Part of the construction unit and also working part time (illegally) in HR. Defected to the Autobots towards the end of the war and is now doing a goddamn lot of finding out for very little fucking around. Very easy to manipulate. Both has a missing boyfriend and is the missing boyfriend. Main character disease (affectionate but oh dear god at what cost)

Reefer: (0100)(take a wild guess) de-facto leader/union rep of the construction unit by virtue of being built first. Doing his goddamn best but he’s fundamentally just a sillyguy. Also has a secondhand soul but he doesn’t know about it. Would do anything for his little guys. Sneaks Hadron his science magazines. Hazard’s qpp, Hadron’s bestie, other side of Rico’s coin. Died during the great latewar Construction Unit Defection.

Hazard: (0101)(turns into a dump truck) absolutely fuckin massive very nice and kind SIC & emotional support of the construction unit. Also has a secondhand soul but it’s never really relevant. Guy who’s usually the one to talk to outsiders for the gang. Has never held a gun but almost got sent to the front lines of the war bc they’re Fucking Huge and hella shit was pulled to Stop That Happening (without them even knowing in the first place). Reefer’s qpp, Dyker (0102) isn’t mine and there’s a lot of lore but Dyker is their best friend (I think?). Dead. (Meter pushed them off one of the spires of Decepticon HQ bc they asked if he was okay and were a little too concerned)

Ricochet (Rico): (0103)(turns into a backhoe) oh she’s so fucked up. She’s so fucked up. Also has a secondhand soul and she’s not really aware of that but she’s not normal about it either. Hadron’s older sister figure (derogatory), other side of Reefer’s coin (Threefer), imprinted hard on Dyker and took the Shit That Got Pulled really REALLY badly. Blames Hadron for Reefer’s death to avoid blaming herself. Was briefly a neutral medic but went back to the Decepticons real quick and took the ending of the war also incredibly badly. (And by incredibly badly I mean she got a group to try and restart the war and recruited a bunch of guys to try and replace her family and it’s Not Working)

Chainlink: (turns into a tank)(attempt at replacing Hazard) Rico’s Fucking Massive SIC/de-facto bodyguard who’s really not jazzed about following someone else’s orders. Does it anyway out of… respect that she got there first (or something.) but makes it very very clear that Ze Would Kill Her (in a weird gay way) If Ze Got the Chance. (Ze is in fact given the chance and Doesn’t Take It. Neither of them are really sure how to cope with that). Died one time during the war but got better and is kind of an asshole about that. Mean sense of humor.

Sprocket: (turns into a handheld cannon)(Hadron but Rico likes him) literally just a little guy. Built on Earth approximately three days before the war ended and doesn’t actually know what that means for anything. Definitely getting a little bit gaslighted here. Finds out abt that and is so betrayed/hurt/doesn’t know what else to do that he turns them all in and fucks off to actually see the universe and the planet outside the war and also go to robot law school. Does tech/support/recon for the squad’s endeavors and missions from a secret third location

Roughhouse: (turns into a lifted ass Ford F150)(Reefer 2 smarter boogaloo) Sprocket’s bestie and everyone’s emotional support himbo and by emotional support himbo I mean this guy is treating this revolution like a kindergarten teacher. Guy who 100% tried to set up a sticker system to try and get Rico and Chainlink to be normal. He’s not even that invested in it he just thinks it’s funny to get Rico overly invested in things she’s Going to lose. Yes she’s his boss technically yes she forgets that sometimes (younger sister instinct). The fanciest and only prewar member of the gang. Former bouncer, early Decepticon recruit, current pacifist and backup guy.

THE SECRET OTHER OPTION:

Rudder: of Rudder and Oar fame. They don’t give a shit they’re just out there fishing. A lot of the time they wind up picking up body parts/people but that’s not what they’re fishing for so they just toss them in the back to sell to the mafia. Together they turn into a bigger boat.

#FINALLY #hello sorry this took so long it’s like 1.7k words #robobs

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ratsoh-writes · 1 hour

Text

Masterlist 34

(****) = suggestive

General

the longest they've gone without doing the do (lf ot)******

most excited to go on a rollercoaster

SO wants company when upset, but doesn't want to talk (fs ut sf)

crush asks to pet their gaster blaster (lf st ul)

their favorite flower/fruit goes extinct (farmers + dt)

the rich boys have a SO who isn't used to money being spent on them (lf drt)

hogwarts houses (uw ht flt bt)

when their shop got broken into

his pet traps SO

crush accidentally burns themselves (ut uf ht)

SO is affectionate after he wrecks them (ut uf hf ht fsg)****

his pp gets bigger/smaller (gears maple)*****

alien invasion (sf hfm tt dt)

SO is temporarily blind

SO can flirt but cant be flirted with (mf lf lsf uf)

SO jokes his dong is too big (nt ft)****

SO wears thigh highs and his shirt (lf mf +brothels)****

they're cursed with the truth (marcelo papyrus captain chaos red)

the bauble and flavor siblings home

wedding vows (fsg fsr)

gaster comes back from the dead

doing a presentation (nt ff hfm fs sf)

gay sex wins, fatality (brothels + fsg lf)**

monkey paw clown nose

he's cursed to speak backwards for a week

board games (brothel + bf fs)

pigs blood (drf tht fs ss lf)

non sexual intimacies (brothel + fs bf)

kid comes home with disrespectful date

object becomes sentient (flt ss gt hfm bs)

voice actor SO (uf lsf mf lf fsg)

karen fights for them (basil Sugar, Pluto, Peaches, Cider, Compass, Sparks, Finn, Quill and Papaya)

their brother is lv sick (fsg sf)

first date (cash mutt weasel pesto gold coffee)

tv laugh track (tht ut)

SO has vertigo (bf + brothel)

SO has a cursed job (ut bbt os)

crush accidentally burns themselves (ht uf ut)

SO is dazed after getting railed lol (ut uf ht hf fsg)****

Interactions

how the ut uf us bros handled meeting their horror counterparts

Worldbuilding

what was wines and coffees mother like?

the horrorfell civil war

strongest and weakest ten update

other heat cycle species seasons**

more snail breeds

how the old farm aus are doing without the monsters

temmies children kevin

difference between fae born monsters and normal ones

night sky in ebott

can skeletons choke

Heat changes (all)****

How many fingers to kitsune have. And more wing info for birdtale

spunions axelaterals and lavender quarts

sky serpents, and what form do slime monsters take

how does one become a prince

pet taxes and registration

animal bias and needlecones

fire elementals dealing with rain and ebotts grade system

why is dual colored magic "ugly"

ogres swiftees bugbear

skeleton bones vs human bones + how breaks heal

how smooshable are the skeletons (featuring quill)

fortune telling?

most common ecto color (all monster types)

whos now the main mafia? (rps only)

common monster names

train system

EBOTT MAP first draft + where the skeletons live

more random monster behaviors

side characters

juniper devi argo

blight dwight their parents

more rich b*tches

Damocles Cassia (and vlock info)

Diane Swann (and vila info)

Royals

MEET THE ROYALS

what they look like

vamp and duchess' mates

Poseidon and Salacia's children

Undertale

sans kid is a changeling

fellswap red

mutt and oblivious SO

swapfell

mal and vila SO

cash and oblivious SO

Mafias

roulette comes back from the dead

angst

bruisers SO reveals they're a selkie

maid SO**

flavortale

taffy gets cheated on

Hadaltale

silex gets cheated on

outertale

Jupiter gets cheated on

fellswap gold

if wine and coffees mother had survived

coffees braces

the brothel

do they regret taking the lust serum?

did they have to take the lust serum

#undertale imagines #undertale headcanons #masterlist #masterpost

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greenhousethree · 8 months

Note

11, 20 and 26 for Ginny....

26 with respect to Lily Potter...?

Thanks for the questions, anon! (Wheee more procrastination for meee...) Ask game here.

11. Faceclaim for the role of Ginny:

This'll be disappointing but I don't really picture a particular person for Ginny; she has a face and disposition in my head that I haven't seen and don't have the skills to artistically render. Closest would probably be, you guessed it, Luca Hollestelle. I think there's a reason she's so widely accepted as Ginny's face claim.

20. Scars:

Most of Ginny's physical scars come from growing up with six older brothers. I've mentioned the one above her belly-button from Ron's wooden sword in this fic, and I think there might be several other little ones, a few of which become bittersweet reminders of Fred (he knocked her down two flights of stairs with a flying trunk, ffs). Her first time falling off Charlie's broomstick earned her a pretty banged-up knee, too; she was so eager to climb back on that her mum didn't get around to healing it until it had scarred over. You can still see a few of those jagged lines, if you know where to look.

Ginny's lucky to not have many lasting scars from the war. She broke an ankle in the Department of Mysteries, but only needed a bit of Skele-Grow. And while she was pretty battered and bruised after the Battle of Hogwarts, most of that was temporary, too.

The big one I'll mention, I guess, is less of a surface scar and more a minor disfigurement as the result of an injury, which again is described in this fic and alluded to in Chasing. For me, it was important to represent the Carrows' physical violence that Neville references, in addition to spells and curses that can sometimes be hard to relate to as a reader, particularly at a point in the series when the Unforgivables are thrown around so callously. Magic isn't the only thing that hurts, and magic can't fix everything.

26. What would Ginny do if stuck in an elevator with Lily Potter?

Not sure what circumstances have led to this situation, but we're rolling with it...

First thing's first, Ginny's trying everything she can think of to get the lift moving again. She's not scared so much as annoyed; she stopped by the Ministry on her way to meet a friend for coffee and now she's running late, trapped between two sets of metal grills and surrounded by anti-Apparition wards.

I'm imagining Lily is some sort of spectral presence here, a la the Resurrection Stone (my toxic trait is my inability to synthesize anything AU). Still, it doesn't take Ginny long to realize who she is. Thoughts of later plans vanish, and she quits trying to transfigure the lift's ceiling into a trapdoor as she recognizes Harry's eyes.

And they talk.

Ginny asks questions, of course. The first ones that come to mind, because naturally she draws a blank about anything she's ever wondered up till now. No one expects to be caught in an elevator with their fiancé's dead mother. Do you know who I am? Do you get to watch over Harry, or something? Did you always know he'd be okay, or were you still worried about the prophecy? He still doesn't talk much about his parents. Now's her chance.

The harder part comes with Lily's questions. Is her son happy? Overall, yeah, I think. Does he take enough time for himself? Er... sort of. Does he make you happy? Do you two want kids?

They talk a bit about Teddy (Remus sends his gratitude), and then Ginny stares at her boots as Lily thanks her and bestows her resounding approval, which feels a bit odd coming from someone nearly Ginny's own age.

She promises to pass on Lily's apology for not being there, at the wedding. As if that day will really even matter, as if there haven't already been a million birthdays and holidays and Sunday afternoons Ginny would rather him have with them instead.

Magical Maintenance doesn't take too long to arrive on the scene, and by the time the lift is clattering back to the atrium Lily's gone and Ginny's wondering if she's gone funny in the head. She spends the rest of the afternoon walking along the river, bypassing the coffeeshop where she's due and wondering how she'll talk to him about it, whether he'll even believe her.

She'll regret it later, not asking about Severus or James.

#whoops took that last one and ran with it #asked and answered #ginny weasley #lily evans #anon ask #headcanon #harry potter

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bitchbrisket · 20 days

Text

Thanks to @slightlyintimidating for tagging me in the fic writer 20 questions game, I haven’t done one of these in a couple of years.

How many works do you have on AO3? 515

What’s your total AO3 word count?

Too many words to count?

What fandoms do you write for?

In the past there was a bit of Wicked, the three musketeers, more recently the Miss Fisher murder mysteries, Berena, Mamma Mia every so often but for the past few years it’s been a smidge of ghosts, an occasional foray into the wheel of time, a hefty dose of the worst witch (both 1998 and 2017) and a sprinkling of the Mallorca files.

What are your top five fics by kudos?

All of these are Berena. Mainly AU which is great. I do love an AU. I’m fond of most of these fics.

Lonely hearts of Holby (fics featuring radio are criminally underrated)

Love endures & love is kind (what possessed me to write a vicar ffs?)

Wolfesbane take me away (this turned out better than I realised it would)

Oh Major (smutty smut smut smut)

Love of a lifetime (I think I would have written this a bit differently, in hindsight) .

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always. Comments and kudos are never guaranteed and someone took time out of their day to show me that they appreciate my scribbles.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I’m not a fan of ending with angst but I have written a couple that end in death or a breakup usually because the character has been killed off. The most recent was won’t find the answer by staring at the stars.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of them.

Do you get hate on fic?

Every so often. Got a bit more a few years ago but I’ve recently had an anon who’d acted as if I’d forced her to read the story under duress and she decided I had psychological problems. Absolute lol.

Do you write smut?

I do. I try not to repeat the same phrases and wording all the time and I have a list of phrases I can’t stand reading so that makes it even more of a challenge.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I’ve written a handful of crossovers. The most popular one I’ve done is Chessy from the parent trap and Miss Honey from Matilda. Someone on tumblr shipped them so I wrote the story and gifted it to them.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I contributed to one with my friend Jaqui (I never knew you were the someone waiting for me)

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Got lots; Serena Campbell & Bernie Wolfe, Siuan Sanche & Moiraine Damodred, Ada Cackle & Hecate Hardbroom, Agatha Cackle & Dimity Drill, Maria (?) & Baroness Schrader, Elizabeth McMillan & Concetta Strano, Bill Anderson & Harry Bright.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

I deleted it in the end but I was trying to write a crossover with Poirot and Mrs Bradley. But I’m terrible at writing murder mysteries so I gave up on it in the end. I just know that the butler didn’t do it.

What are your writing strengths?

I’ve been told that I write great comedy one liners. That my writing isn’t cliched and the way I describe a character’s emotions and actions feels very real.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Extending dialogue for a long time is a struggle for me. I do well without much dialogue. Feels like a script and it seems wooden to me. And action. Can't write any action whatsoever.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Fine. I’ve done it occasionally.

First fandom you wrote for?

I think Elisabeth the musical?

Favourite fic you’ve written?

I can’t pick just one. But I really enjoyed writing Sweet nothings & Wind's in my eyes, I heed your call

Tagging: @batnbreakfast @marvelousmadmadammim @sosaywefrakkinall711 @hovercraft79

Questions to respond to:

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

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

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. Do you get hate on fic?

9. Do you write smut?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

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

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

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

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

#fanfiction

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everythingdnddd · 2 months

Text

Llothmiira (Miira)

Ex Lloth-Sworn Drow || Circle of the Land Druid

Short version is...

Llothmiira grew up in one of Menzoberranzan's lesser houses, with a mother whose ambition for quiet influence demanded excellence. As an adolescent, she was singled out, being quick and good with shadows for her size (Type 3), and with her mother's scheming, earned the favor of the Yor'thae, Lloth’s chosen, becoming an agent of sorts for her. The Chosen disdained her closest companion though and because of him, grew suspicious that Miira’s natural inclinations didn't align. A test of loyalty and character was set, disguised as a task, and when Llothmiira chose to protect her companion at the expense of the goal, a trap was sprung that killed him outright. In the aftermath, furious, she fled Menzoberranzan and abandoned everything, including her mother.

The Underdark turned on her without Lloth's protection, forcing her above ground. It took weeks to find an unguarded exit and by the time she finally escaped, she was barely alive.

Luckily, she came through in the southern High Forest, not far from a small grove of druids, one of which stumbled across her while out for a moonlight walk. He nearly killed her, but because she was half-dead, took her to his leaders instead, passing the problem off on them. Luckily, one of the archdruids had history with drow (long story) and took her under his protection, advocating for her and with his support, she was allowed to stay. Over time, that refuge slowly became home and that protector became more like a surrogate parent. She found their beliefs fascinating, being almost a complete reversal of Lloth’s teachings, and she eventually joined them, dropping the first half of her name officially. She spent sixty-some years with them, absorbing every bit of knowledge she could get her hands on. A ravenous academic to make up for lost time. She became her advocate's second and a valuable member of their collective.

The rest of her life seemed established, until a nasty encounter with some Underdark critters who came topside. Unable to get the unfortunate situation out of her mind, she started circling the tension between her two lives. It started to bother her that the druidic gods turned a willful eye to the Underdark. Her own memories of it were chaotic and burdened by the cult of Lloth, but also nostalgic and fucking stunning. Darkness does not equate to evil. (Ffs, can we get past that theme in fantasy already?) The evil was in Lloth, whose influence went unchallenged, suffocating the natural ecosystems and providing the only real shelter for drow as a whole. Still holding to the rest of her Druidic beliefs, she ultimately decided to leave, channeling the principles of this life into the environments of the old one.

She went down alone, unaccompanied, and spent almost two centuries cataloging everything she could about the flora and fauna of the Underdark, hiding in its shadows to keep free of Lloth and her followers (under no illusions about her ability to overthrow them), and focused on nurturing pocket ecosystems. She considers this her life’s purpose, which she’s sacrificed everything for. She's been alone for two centuries, except for odd, random encounters.

At some point she moves into the area, then catches wind of the shadow curse and is disturbed by the idea that Lloth’s influence is gathering above ground. She leaves to investigate, but never really gets to because of the Nautiloid.

-----

Miira is a tried and true druid, but an unorthodox one at best. She has some rusty skills in stealth and subterfuge.

It takes her a while to get comfortable in the group, but the early members defer to her because of age and she eventually gives up on convincing them otherwise. Of them, she finds Astarion’s opinions a bit too similar to Lloth’s for comfort and is clueless about a lot of society (a theme with my characters, because I know nothing lmao), but is naturally caring enough to support everyone's autonomy and try her best to bond with them. Lae’zel and Karlach each remind her of her younger self in different ways. She leans on Halsin a lot through Act 2 and they end up being weird counterbalances. She’s a little grittier and more cynical, but also more of a genuine optimist, which he needs. Opposite ways of coming to the same place. All that. They become a lifelong thing, but not in a way that will ever settle down and do the cliche thing. She still has her purpose and he has his. They just find ways to anchor near each other and create crossover.

I have a bunch of OCs and post-game thoughts, but this is long enough, so I'll just say she has some solo journeys to make xD

Also, some notes on her appearance - in my head, her skin tone is a little darker and a lot less saturated than the darkest Ash option. The saturation on the darkest one was driving me crazy, so she's this way for my sanity. Also mid-game, her hair returns to a modified version of the way she wore it under Lloth (see below). Since there's nothing like I'm imagining in-game, it just stays for now. And eyes - I know drow losing their red is a controversial decision Larian made, so I go back and forth on that. I'm tempted to keep them red, but considering her origin, I think there’s a case for it either way. I digress.

Oh yeah... and her name is literally just the first one I saw when I searched drow naming conventions. I might change it eventually.

Below is pre-leaving Lloth and current.

@leofrith

So anyway... there you have it. I hope you wanted a novel xD

#ainulindaelynn #BG3 Miira

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honestlyyoungtyphoon · 2 years

Text

Navier/Sovieshu ao3 fic master lists-

From newer to old

Adding fuel to fire

Summary: Navier was changing clothes, Sovieshu walks in on her. Rest is history...

About: Explicit, hot smut 🥵, completed

Hurt and happiness

Summary: Sovieshu and Navier get divorced after his drunken one night stand with a random blond woman. It didn't help that she got pregnant too. Navier asks for divorce despite Sovieshu asking for forgiveness. After the divorce she marries someone else and leaves the country. Sovieshu tried to contact her, but she blocked him on everything. The other girl had no interest in marriage or kids, so she gives up the baby to Sovieshu and takes off. Sovieshu tries to be a good parent despite the ugly situation and doesn't date anyone else because of his guilt over losing Navier.Fast forward to ten years, he meets Navier again as his new neighbor who's currently widowed and has two sons of her own. Life as a single mom with two young kids is really hard. Sovieshu tries to help but will Navier accept it? Is reconciliation possible after all this years?Prompt inspired by Reddit post.

About: Ongoing, fluff and angst

Untitled

Summary: Sovieshu pushes Navier's buttons and she retaliates with magic leading to an adorable moment between them.

About: Fluff and crack, complete , ficlet

Lazy morning

Summary: On a rare four day weekend off of work, Navier and Sovieshu decide to start it off right.

About: Domestic fluff, modern AU, ficlet, completed.

May we meet again

Summary: Sovieshu and Navier find themselves at the beginning of their relationship. Their minds have woken up in their young body and only they're the ones remembers what happens next. Sovieshu thought this time he could fix what he broke but Navier disagrees. Sovieshu is heartbroken but he understands. The couple breaks up the engagement despite the protest from everyone else. It was a mutual decision after all and they decided to remain friends. Sovieshu appoints Navier as one of his minister in the court until Heinly arrives in eastern empire to sweep her away... Happy ending right? Then why the prince is going after Sovieshu's new wife? Why he's not even glancing at Navier? Oh wait, they forgot that Heinly's goal was the empress of Eastern empire, not a court minister. And Navier wasn't the empress of the eastern empire, not anymore. So what will happen now? Will the new Empress will fall for the trap? What happens to Rashta and her children? Will Heinly also remember the future? Can Navier forgive and forget everything?

About: Angst, fluff, ongoing, AU, time travel

Don't wish upon a tree

Summary: Navier and Sovieshu decided to spend her birthday in the imperial villa.

About: Fluff, bickering, AU, completed.

The other woman

Summary: Sovieshu brings a woman from hunting. It makes the lady in waiting worried. A prequel of my fic "Take a hint". It's about how Rashta becomes Navier's maid.

About: Domestic fluff, misunderstanding, AU, part of a series, completed

Take a hint

Summary: At the new years celebration, the emperor suddenly left the empress alone in the middle of the dance, shocking everyone. They started murmuring. Trouble in marriage? Navier had to keep her cool and hide her blush cause they had no idea what just happened.

About: AU series, hint of smut

Why does it have to be you

Summary: Sovieshu couldn't believe his eyes when his new bride unveiled herself - Navier Trovi, the woman that made his life miserable in university life, the woman he hates the most.

About: Modern AU, enemies to lovers, arrange marriage, classmates, bickering, teasing, I love Navier being so sneaky lol

All that glitters isn't gold

Summary: Heinry shows Navier the pictures of Sovieshu and Rashta going into a cabin together, exposing her husband's affair. Only if he knew...

About: Serial killers, Modern AU, Navier and Sovieshu being evil together, one of my favourites!!

Bare your heart to me

Summary: Me the pervert, trying to write a sugary sweet ff because oh why not? It's Navier and Sovieshu again because I don't like Heinry.

About: Declaration of love, communication, AU, completed.

The fear of losing you

Summary: Navier and Sovieshu were walking in the garden. Little did she know this would be the worst nightmare of her life.

About: Angst with happy ending, one shot, completed

Lying down next to you

Summary: It was almost dinnertime and Sovieshu wasn't here yet which made me worried. Lately, my husband has been working day and night without any eye shut and skipping meals to focus on his work. It has been very busy lately in the Eastern Empire due to a lot of budgeting and signing documents

About: One shot, domestic fluff au, cute

Morning Glow

Summary: Navier wakes up early in the morning with Sovieshu's hand wrapped around her. She enjoys the peaceful quiet morning with her sleeping husband.

About: Another domestic fluff, one shot , completed, cute.

Navier's h*le aches for deep cleaning

Summary: AU where Sovieshu and Navier does some things before they learn about rashta's pregnancy.

About: Smut 😏, completed, one shot , explicit

First born

Summary: Navier doesn't feel well when the day of Rashta's honorary banquet rolls around. Alas, she is the Empress and Sovieshu is already under the impression that she's trying to ruin the runaway slave's life and reputation, so she has to make an appearance despite this.

About: AU where Navier gives birth before Rashta, one of my favourites, this is one of the oldest navieshu fic, really good plot, completed. I really loved it. I wish the writer made a sequel for this. I'm really curious about the future dynamic. What'd happen to Navier and Sovieshu and their new child? What'd happen to Rashta? So many questions!!!!

Hyacinth

Summary: When Sovieshu learned about Navier's pregnancy, he saw a chance to rebuild their relationship. Amidst the joy of the country, he sent away the blonde prince his wife was so fond of, as well as the rest of ill intended foreigners who pursued her.While it seemed that Navier would never show any warmth towards him again -be it for his illegitimate child or his meddling in the banishment of her western prince-, he still hoped for reconciliation.Then the girl was born with violet eyes.

About: Angst, one shot, well the ending isn't about Navieshu but the plot is mainly about them. The story was good but the writer got too cocky about western kingdom's power. Like bruh, Navier and Heinry had to secretly flee from the eastern empire and you think here he'd march in and threaten Sovieshu with his army that's weaker than Eastern empire? The ending is meh but if you ignore the ending, it's somewhat decent.

Same old, same old

Summary: In a twist the appearances of Rashta and Heinley do not fully tear Navier and Sovieshu apart, but help them finally grow together.

About: Incomplete and abandoned 😞, but cute fluffy with angst

I've only included fics that mainly focus about Navier and Sovieshu.

Enjoy!!

#remarried empress #the remarried empress #navier×sovieshu #navieshu #navier #sovieshu #my otp #fic rec #fic review #masterlist #fic related

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ackerfics · 3 years

Note

Levi, during some lonely night, still check your ig profile of the boutique and sighs when he finds you on the photo and not only your dresses 💔

i'm writing the new chapter of the parent trap au and you just have to send this to me 😭😭😭 i'm on the verge of turning this wholesome reunion between levi and reader into a somewhat angsty, pining narrative of the two. please STOP ME.

anyways, levi will also try to reminisce how you look in the wedding dress you designed for your wedding all those years ago and it would send levi in another sleepless night because he couldn't stop remembering. he wanted for the memory to never cease until the bright, late morning sun and altair's voice woke him up, thoughts of you hurting levi in the best way possible. every time he would check the instagram page of your bridal boutique, instead of the client in the picture, he would imagine you. suddenly, pining for you felt like spring was encouraging the flowers to grow even more in his chest until he has no choice but to welcome the hurt.

#rorytalks #anons 🥰💌#the parent trap au #attack on titan #aot #levi ackerman #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #levi ackerman x reader #snk #levi x reader #PLEASE STOP ME FFS #I'M TURNING A ROMANTIC COMEDY INTO ANGST

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kakayamaweek2021 · 3 years

Text

KakaYama Week 2021

Theme: Space and Time

Dates: July 11th- July 17th

Prompts:

Day 1: Oblivious Idiots | Missions | "You need therapy, like yesterday"

Day 2: Anbu | Fake Dating | "Don't abuse your cuteness, kohai"

Day 3: Sexual Tension | Growing Old/Retirement | "Boss, we stayed with you all our lives, but if you make us choose, we'll go with Tenzou"

Day 4: Drunken Confessions | Body Swap | "It's always been you, Tenzou"

Day 5: The Parent (Sensei) Trap | Time Travel | "I'm guarding the Hokage"

Day 6: Secret Dating | Friends to Lovers/Enemies to Lovers | "How do you convince everyone that you're actually a functional adult?"

Day 7: Only One Bed | Yakuza/Mob AU | "I thought we were dating"

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Movement by Hozier

Should I Stay or Should I Go by The Clash

Save Yourself by My Darkest Hour

My Demons by Starset

If I’ve been Enveloped by Tenderness from Kiki’s Delivery Service

Pieces by Sum 41

Demons at the Door by Sleeping Wolf

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sailtoafarawayland · 3 years

Text

Where the Horizon Ends

(An Alpha/Omega Enchanted Forest AU)

SUMMARY: There's an end to her parent's patience, and with the threat of an arranged mating looming, Princess Emma decides to take her fate into her own hands - come what may.

RATING: E (tags: mating cycles, mating bites)

AO3 - FF

This started as what was meant to be a quick drabble, but apparently, those are hard for me to do. So here it is. I can maybe envision a follow-up chapter to this, but for now, it’s complete.

Chapter One

Emma snarled, pounding her fist helplessly against the door.

“Emma, darling,” her mother sighed from without, her words echoed by her husband's worried pacing. “I know this is difficult, but it really is for the best. You're the heir to the throne, nearly of age and – ”

“ – soon to be mated for the good of the realm,” Emma hissed through clenched teeth, anger rippling through her body at her parent's hypocrisy. “Yes, I'm well aware, but does that really mean I'm to be tricked into my quarters once a month and locked inside? Can I not even walk the palace grounds on my own, or am I not to be trusted?”

“You are too great a treasure, Emma,” her father finally spoke, his voice tired. “Should anyone...”

“Do you not trust your own guards then? Or is your daughter that inspires such misgivings?” Emma snapped, riled beyond belief, her spiking hormones amplifying each of her emotions as she came fiercely into her heat. “And how long is this to go on? How many balls am I to be granted before you declare my hope of finding true love, a fated mate to call my own, unsuccessful – until I'm to be married off like chattel to the most politically expedient alpha available? Shall I receive one more chance to find a mate by love, or have you already summoned the Dark One's envoys to offer me up on a silver platter to his vile offspring?”

“Emma!” Her father roared, “that's quite enough. I know we raised you to speak your mind, but you will respect our decision in this, and you will remain in your quarters until any danger to your position has passed. Your ladies in waiting will see to you, and I will hear no more of this diatribe. Is that clear?”

His last words rang starkly in the empty corridor outside of her room, each of them imbued with the layered tone of an alpha demanding obedience, of a father ordering a child to do as he bid.

“Yes,” she growled, biting back the words she wanted to throw after. It would do no good arguing with her parents through the door; they would not change their minds.

Despite the fact that she was nearing her twentieth year, they still treated her as a naive, young girl, and it pained her that they'd begun locking her away like this for the duration of her heat. At first she had believed it was all to keep her safe. She hadn't questioned their orders, they were her parents, after all, and had walked willingly into her wing of the palace, understanding that this was simply how it was for a royal princess.

But years had passed and she'd grown, ventured out on her own and learned more of the world, of trade, of her parent's realm and the people they ruled. She'd learned more of herself as well, and what she wanted from life. When her parents suggested the balls as a way to invite all of the eligible alphas for perusal, she had agreed – after all, she desperately wanted to find the same type of love her parents had found with one another.

She'd heard the stories enough as she sat on the edge of her mother's bed, Snow's fingers combing gently through her hair – how the moment she'd first seen and scented her father, she'd known in the core of her being that there would never be another alpha more perfect for her, and from there on out, it had been a storybook romance. She'd also seen the misery of those trapped into a mated pair that was not suited to them – and those ranged from uncomfortable to tragic endings, but no mate bond could be broken, and these were the burdens some lived with.

The thought of having to suffer so herself, simply because she was the heir to the throne and held responsibilities to the kingdom above herself, it angered her. Clearly her match was not some over-polished prince, and why should it be – her parents had raised her to be so much more than a beautiful face who sat placidly on a throne, and yet once a month during her heat, she was relegated to suffering alone in her chambers for fear she should be tarnished, her reputation ruined, and a good match never secured.

Listening to her parents footsteps recede, she moved from the antechamber toward the bath where she knew her ladies in waiting would have drawn water for her and then left. The door would already be locked, and food and water would be given to her through only a small opening in her dressing chamber – as if she were a prisoner, and wasn't she?

She tore the jerkin fiercely from her body, her corset and shirt following closely as she made her way into the steamy room, the scent of roses on the water doing little to calm her nerves, though that was to be expected. Her argument with her parents had done little to assuage the turmoil her body was just beginning to go through, what it would continue to go through for the next week on her own. Sighing, she let her breeches and small clothes fall to the floor, her body shining with sweat that was as much from exertion in the yard as her coming heat.

She slipped down into the sunken bath, feeling the scented oils cling to her skin as she dragged her hand lazily through the perfumed surface, small bubbles drifting as if on the tide itself. She pushed her parents from her mind, instead letting her thoughts sink into that private space within her mind that no confinement could take from her. She let the warm waters soothe her tense muscles and pull the stress from her body, imagining as her skin tingled with want below the surface of the water that it was not her fingers drawing pleasure from those aching places, but the fingers of someone who knew her even better – who could coax out the soft sweet moans she would give only to him, who would trace the lines of her body like a treasure map until they both came undone together, joined and sated and wanting for nothing outside of the nest that held the two of them.

She bit back the cry that tore from her lips as the water splashed around her, her knees drawing up as her fingers ceased their desperate circling, her body trembling as she came down. Despite her release, she could feel the muscles of her body clenching and tightening once more, preparing for the slick that would soon run from her desperately, preparing her for an alpha she didn't have – for a mate she wasn't allowed to find.

Whimpering at the loss of something she'd never known, she kicked viciously at the sluice that would allow the tub to drain, standing achingly and snatching the first towel she could find before wrapping it around her and stomping back into her bedchambers. She didn't care that she was sopping wet and should have dried off in front of the fire before retiring– there would be no comfort to be found within her bed over the next week, and no amount of drying off would keep at bay the cold loneliness that would be her only companion.

By the second day she was sure she was going mad.

The maids dutifully left fresh water and food from the kitchen each hour, most of which was left untouched, though the she couldn't get enough of the cold, crisp water to cool her heated body. She drew baths herself, but couldn't bear to lower herself into the water, whether it was icy or warm. Her bed had become a tangled knot of blankets and pillows that smelled entirely too much of herself, simply reminding her how alone she was and offering little in the way of comfort.

Her body felt aching and hollow in a way it never had before during her heats, and perhaps it was because she felt more than ever that her alpha was somewhere near, waiting for her. It was as if she could feel him, his presence an intangible call that the castle walls prevented her from answering. Her small collection of polished knotting toys did little to ease the ache, the feel of them solid and weight, but lifeless within her. They only made her keen for what she was missing. Her pleas for someone she didn't have echoed through the corridors, and hours passed before she finally fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming that there were arms holding her close instead of the press of damp blankets.

By the third day she was alternating between sweltering and freezing, draped in a sweat drenched shirt and pacing before the windows that overlooked the garden. Below, she could see the palace staff preparing for yet another ball to be held in her honor, and perhaps the last, before her parents had exhausted every eligible match in the Enchanted Forest and the lands beyond. If they had their way, this would be the last chance she was given before they resigned themselves that a fated mate was not in her future, and their thoughts turned instead toward the kingdom and an heir.

Men in livery erected ornate trellises and gazebos that were to be hung with flowers and garland, and the kitchen staff organized the heavy wooden tables that would hold a feast of delicacies for the gentry to dine on. The ball would not be held until after her heat had passed, but these things were of high importance to her mother, and Queen Snow was never one to do things by halves, so Emma wasn't surprised to see everything being taken care of so early on.

The day passed slowly, and as she rolled in her sheets, burrowing herself into a nest that offered little comfort, Emma could not help but give in to the anger that seemed to live just beneath her skin these days.

As a princess, there was no end to the people scurrying about in an attempt to find her a suitable mate – letters and royal envoys sent across kingdoms – yet her parents didn't trust her enough to allow her to search for her mate on her own. She was never allowed free of the castle grounds until her heat had safely passed, yet those days were the most critical when it came to scenting one's mate, and she'd been robbed of them ever since she came into her place as an omega.

But her parents hadn't raised her to simply sit beautifully upon a throne, and through the haze and fog of her heat, through the sweltering air pressing against every part of her body, she realized she was doing herself a disservice by allowing them to treat her as such.

Why not take her fate into her own hands?

She tossed the blankets from her body and threw her legs over the edge of her bed, bare feet padding noiselessly against the plush rug as she chose a clean shirt, leggings, and a jerkin from the dressing room. Her damp curls were pulled back into a rather disorganized braid after she slipped into the clothing. They would soon be drenched in her sweat and slick, but she cared little – tonight she was going to choose for herself, flowery balls be damned.

A pair of boots followed her leggings, and soon she was dressed in some of the oldest, most worn clothing she owned – though anyone would be able to tell by the quality of the fabric and fastenings alone that she was no simple towns-person. It would have to do. She had no way to find anything else at this hour of the night, nor with every exit to her chambers locked from without.

She hurried toward the window that overlooked the garden below, the soft torches that stayed lit along the flowered pathways illuminating the palace just enough that she could make out the shadow of the roof below her window. Leaning precariously against it was a heap of wooden trellises that had yet to be artfully put together over the looking pond and draped in flowers. It was not the most secure of exits, but it would have to do.

She paused, retrieving a small dagger from within her desk before opening the window glazing carefully, glad of the soft rain that was pattering against the stone and hiding any noises she might make. There were guards that made their rounds in the garden, but they were few and far between, and Emma knew their steps well. Waiting for a cramp that pierced sharply through her body to pass, she grit her teeth and slipped over the edge of her window, the toes of her boots just meeting the slick tiles below as she clung to the narrow ledge. She stretched, biting back the whimper of pain it caused, but knowing she would need to pull her window at least mostly shut, lest it be seen by the guards on patrol and cause concern. Finally managing to get it nearly closed, she dropped into a crouch and surveyed the garden, but there were no guards within sight.

It wasn't nearly as precarious climbing down the leaning stack of wood as she'd been worried about, and in no time at all, she was skirting the shadows of the garden she knew so well, leaving behind her the last, gilded chance her parents were willing to give her at finding love.

But she wouldn't find her mate here, of that she was certain. She could feel it in her gut, a pull to run, to flee from the stifling walls of the palace and find him in a place where the air was free, never having been bound by stone or law a day in it's life – that's where he was.

And she wasn't going to let anything stop her from finding him.

The rain had started coming down more steadily as she approached the town, stirring the mud in the streets and washing the sweat from her body. She hadn't a cloak plain enough in her chambers, but she didn't mind the cold kiss of the water against her skin. Now that the adrenaline of escape had worn off, her body was keenly reminding her of just what she needed. Her harried flight into town had made her cramps that much sharper, and if she weren't already drenched from the rain, it would have been clear she was drenched from slick and sweat. She kept far back from the few people she saw on the streets, their heads ducked beneath cloaks of their own and backs bowed against the rain.

She followed instinct, letting her feet carry her ever closer to the water and the bawdy taverns that lined its dark alleys and the lamp-lit, cobbled roads that were full of those deep in their drink and enjoying one another's company.

There was life in this place that called to her, and beyond it all, the wind and the salt of the sea were pulling.

Her body itched to be held, pressed against another, and the sounds of revelry from within the glowing doorways felt almost soft and melodic against her ears. The rain had washed away much of her scent, but any alpha that drew too near would certainly know her for what she was – an omega in heat. It wouldn't be wise to enter any of the taverns, but she let her body draw near enough to peer within each of them, letting that deeper part of herself that was calling out for a mate take over.

She scented the air as covertly as she was able, tasting the crowded bodies within each of them. At the peak of her cycle, her sense of smell was heightened, and she could easily smell the muddy mix of omegas and alphas locked in back rooms, their pheromones thick around them – but none of them drew her in.

The lamps stretched further apart as she neared the last row of taverns, the establishments darker and less ribald – music and laughter traded for the sound of scuffles and rowdy conversations. Gripping the hilt of the small dagger she'd hidden at her waist, she hesitantly approached. She may be an omega, but she'd been taught from a young age how to defend herself, and she had no intention of allowing any man who wasn't her alpha to lay a hand on her.

But before she could summon up her courage to stray from the cobbles to the mud covered planks that the older section of the harbor was built from, the wind changed, and she whipped around, her skin tingling as she caught the barest whiff of something that smelled familiar, though she was certain she'd never come across the combination before in her life – leather and spice, salt and the bitter tang of ink with a sweet muskiness that rolled between them all and made each hair on her body stand on end.

Her eyes snapped open and she gasped, feeling like something had finally clicked, like for the first time her body was calling and someone else was answering, fulfilling the craving she'd had for so long.

He was here, somewhere among the shadows of the docks and the briny slip of the sea.

She ignored the fresh wave of arousal that accompanied a sharp cramp in her stomach, hurrying toward where the wind blew from, the hulking shadows of ships looming in the distance, creaking ominously in the dark.

It was dangerous here, she knew – far from where the Navy berthed and among the merchant vessels, many of them unmarked and most likely harboring dangerous people. Crates and barrels rose haphazardly along the dock, providing the perfect place for anyone to hide behind, but Emma paid attention to none of it – her world narrowed to the scent she could still faintly catch even though the wind had died.

She must be closer, her harried footsteps drawing her near where a handsome ship docked, her sides painted in beautiful navy and golds, sails furled and no pennants visible, but she could feel that this was the place, and she lingered at the end of the gangplank, staring up into the darkness of the deck – no one in sight.

Her excitement finally caught up to her and she paused, holding tightly to the edge of a barrel as she caught her breath, the muscles in her stomach tightening and twisting slowly, the tension rippling down through her core and tearing a half-pained cry from her lips as she steadied herself, a fresh wave of slick dampening her already wet pants.

The sound of something banging nearby cut through the fog of discomfort she was fighting against, waiting for it to pass so she could search further, and she peered up through the darkness, watching as a figure dressed in clothing nearly as black as the night around him came into view, walking slowly toward mid-ship.

The wind gusted once more, teasing the edges of the furled sails and carrying toward her the scent she'd been chasing – except now it was thick and heady, intoxicating and most definitely coming from the man striding in her direction, his features still cloaked in the darkness that wouldn't relent until he neared the lamp at the bottom of the gangplank.

She could see the moment his demeanor changed, his confident and imposing stride shifting to something uncertain as her scent hit him in full and he realized the same thing she had – but his nearness at such a time, her body not her own, had her leaning once more over the barrel and whimpering.

“Lass,” he murmured, stepping forward quickly as she bent over, arm outreached as if to help her – but then he stopped, retreating. “You should not be here, love. I can have one of my crew escort you back to your home, but you should not...you should not have come,” he finished.

His rejection hit her like kick to the stomach – a nauseating ball of pain and emptiness rolling up from her gut and hitting her mouth with the heavy tang of metal.

He was her alpha – she was certain, and yet, he didn't want her.

“Lass...”

His voice was closer now, accented and melodic, soothing – his boots echoing with each of her breaths that were tighter, harder.

“Lass?”

“You don't want me?” she whispered, fighting against the twist in her gut to stand.

He'd made it halfway down the gangplank, nearly within her reach, his features finally visible to her, each of them cutting deeply – eyes the color of the sea beneath the sun, a sharp jaw dusted with stubble and dark strands of hair falling into his eyes. He stood tall and lean, fluid strength tracing each of his limbs as he shifted beneath the weigh of a heavy greatcoat.

“No,” he breathed, his eyes dark and burning through her. “It's not that, love – but I won't have you shackled to someone like me...”

“You're my mate,” she pleaded, letting all the need and loneliness she'd suffered through all of the past years seep into her voice, letting him hear how she had suffered without him. Hadn't he suffered as well? “Who else could replace you?”

“I am not...” he shifted, and Emma noticed the glint of something metallic as he tucked his arm behind the swell of his jacket. “I am not a whole man, anymore, love – and you need to leave...I can't...”

She knew then that he was in his rut, or nearing it. It was the reason his scent had drawn her so unerringly to his side. She wasn't surprised – they were fated, so of course everything about them would align.

“No,” she whispered, the word shivering along her spine as she defied her alpha – he may not have been hers completely yet, but her heart didn't care about that technicality. “No, I won't – not until you give me a good enough reason why.”

“Because I'm a monster,” he hissed, closing the distance between them in two long strides, leather snapping and the wood beneath her hand vibrating as he threw his arm forward and buried the sharp point of a hook into the barrel – a hook that was attached to his arm. “I'm a pirate, a murderer, a villain.”

Emma let her eyes slip from the metal appendage back to his face, seeing the guilt and regret written there, the pain behind the soft blue of his eyes lined with kohl.

“That's not good enough,” she breathed, inhaling deeply and letting the strength of his scent wash over her, her fingers rising to sample the stiff leather of his collar, stirring the air by his neck and drawing a fresh wave of it from his skin.

“I don't know who you are, love,” he muttered, the eloquence of his words faltering as his pupils dilated and his jaw clenched, clearly just as affected as she was, “but you certainly deserve better than I.”

“My parents would force me to be claimed by an alpha who is not mine,” she admitted, the thought making fire rise in her veins once more. “That is what I deserve better than.”

Her words finally broke through the restraint he was trying to maintain, riling the alpha within him that was irate his omega should be claimed by another. A low growl rumbled in his chest and caught in his throat, his hand – his only one – rising to grip her wrist tightly, turning it and bringing it slowly to his mouth.

Emma's breath caught as he leaned his stubbled jaw into her palm, dragging across her skin so that his nose brushed the small scent gland in her wrist. He inhaled deeply, tongue moving to wet his lips as he tasted her.

“You deserve more,” he whispered harshly, tugging her flush against him with none of the gentleness his earlier demeanor had hinted at, rough stubble raking her jaw as he moved to indulge in the scent of her heat, lips caressing her neck, “a man less selfish than I.”

“I don't want another.”

“Aye,” he drawled, fingers threading through her hair, the breadth of his palm burning against her for only a moment before his grip turned demanding, angling her face so she could see the unbridled desire in his eyes, “I could hardly let you slip through my fingers now – what sort of pirate would I be?”

“Alpha,” she whimpered, unable to help herself – because he was more than a pirate, he was hers – the tension in her body vanishing as she let his hooked arm bear the weight of her body, and it was as if the one word – the way it sounded leaving her lips, meant only for him – it set something on fire inside of him.

In an instant she was off her feet, the world righting itself as he lifted her into his arms and spun, striding back up the gangplank and to the stern of his ship. The rain pelted her upturned face and traced down the hard line of his jaw as he carried her, drenching him as thoroughly as she was. She barely heard the sound of a hatch being kicked open, and then she was clutched even tighter against him as he navigated the narrow stairwell, the both of them breathing heavily as they escaped from the rain.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his arms pressing her almost painfully to his body as he stared down at her, rain dripping from the dark tendrils of hair swept across his face.

“My alpha,” she hummed, squirming in his grasp as her body coursed with need, “please, I – ”

“My name is Killian,” he nearly whispered, and the room swam around her as he strode across it, a wash of dark wood and leaded windows, and then the soft firmness of a bed at her back, “but for tonight, Alpha will do.”

“Emma,” she breathed, names seeming so unimportant when every fiber of her body was so perfectly matched to his without words. “Yours...”

“Aye, mine, Omega,” he growled, gaze hungry as he surveyed her spread across his bed like something to devour – hand and hook catching her wrists and guiding them upward, pinned over her head. She moaned into the soft blankets, writhing beneath him as he pressed the length of his legs and hips into her, his back bowed as he nuzzled her neck once more, licking and sucking the sweat-dappled skin.

“You taste of the sea,” he murmured, biting gently below her gland and drawing a surge of need so powerful from her body that she sobbed with it.

“I need...just need...” She didn't know what she needed – all of it, all of him, everything he could give her.

She wanted nothing less.

“I know what you need, love,” he purred, thrusting his hips once more and rocking his hardness against her, “and you'll get it, but not until I've tasted every delectable inch of you.”

“I'm burning,” she murmured, feeling slightly delirious, her heart racing and her core clenching around nothing, her slick-damp leggings suddenly as oppressive as the walls of the castle had been.

“Keep those hands still,” he ordered, smiling at the shudder his words brought forth. His hand released her and he rose to straddle her hips, taking in the soft leather jerkin and shirt she wore. “These won't do.”

With a gasp she was exposed to the cool air of his cabin, the glide of his hook making her flesh tingle from where it had nearly grazed her.

“Now, that's much better.” He traced the tip of his hook carefully below the round swell of her breast, catching the torn fabric and pulling it aside. “A jewel such as yourself should never be hidden. Perhaps I'll keep you here, glorious and laid out for my enjoyment. Would you like that, Omega?”

“Yes,” she hissed, “just touch me, please...need to feel you...need my alpha.”

A moan rumbled in his throat as he ducked down, lowering his mouth to her chest. A near silent 'as you wish' whispered across the aching peak of her nipple before he latched onto it, the sensation traveling straight to her core. She was a whimpering mess by the time he reached her leggings, and she knew by the heaving breaths he took that he was in no mood for patience. Sure enough, the cold curve of his hook was slotted into the fabric of her pants and wrenched upward, tearing them enough that he could easily slip them from her body. The thunk of the fabric and her boots against the floor echoed through the cabin.

She was finally bared completely to him, and while it was different from what she'd spent years expecting – herself laid on the fine silks of her bedchamber, some foreign prince standing over her – it couldn't have felt more right, the heady mix of his musk and her scent blanketing the both of them. It was the first time anyone other than herself had gazed so completely upon her form, but there was no shyness between them, only desire. She rubbed her thighs together, whimpering at the slight tremors the motion sent through her body.

She needed more, so much more.

“Alpha,” she moaned, spreading her thighs wantonly so he could see her fully, could see what he did to her. “Please...”

She longed to reach down and part her folds, to watch as his control snapped at the sight of her sopping and pink and desperate to be claimed, but she remembered the orders he'd given and kept her wrists above her head, grinding her hips into the bed in search of his touch.

“Take me,” she rasped, an order of her own.

Gods, she'd never needed anything like she needed him.

“I don't think I can be gentle,” he growled, his stubble burning against her stomach as he bent and dragged his mouth lower, inhaling as his lips ghosted across the soaked curls on her mound and discovered her flesh, hot and wet for him.

“I don't care,” she cried, shuddering at the lightest touch against her most intimate place, the thrill of it making her body throb with desire. “I just need you.”

His hand and brace dug into her hips at her words, yanking her soaked core against his face. He gave her no leniency as his mouth and tongue explored her, tugging at her swollen folds and swirling around her hooded pearl, all of her so warm and wanting, just for him. Everything other than the feel of his mouth against her disappeared as ecstasy swirled and spiked deep inside of her, curling vibrantly in her core with each stroke of his tongue, each desperate growl of pure desire he rumbled against her depths. Heat rushed through her body, swelling and cresting and then crashing as she arched beneath him and sobbed, all of it too much to hold within her.

“Like the sea itself,” he groaned, lapping eagerly at her folds as slick pooled beneath her. “Bloody perfect, Omega...”

“Alpha, please,” she begged, her release leaving her weak and shuddering, sated, but still so empty.

“So hungry for me, aren't you?” he murmured, standing abruptly and pulling his drenched shirt from his body, his hook making quick work of loosening the laces of his trousers. His pupils were full and dark, his jaw tight and fingers twitching as he divested himself of the rest of his clothing, leaving his body exposed for her perusal.

Emma's eyes widened at the sight of him, his member thick and heavy between his legs, and for a single breath she feared fitting such a thing inside of her would be impossible, but the roll of his scent reminded her that they were made for one another, and her need to be one with him washed away any doubts.

He was hers, and she was his.

“Present for your alpha, Omega,” he rumbled, his voice drawing another sharp, yet beautiful cramp from her body – he would take it all away, make it better.

Emma shook at his tone, commanding and laced with barely restrained hunger. She rolled on his bed, her breath hot and thick against his blankets as she lowered her chest and drew her knees close, presenting her sodden core at the perfect height for him to take care of her.

His breath came in ragged, harsh pants as he shifted to kneel behind her, and Emma could feel the tension in the way his fingers gripped her skin, his brace pressing just as desperately on her other side. She could sense his need to take her being held back by his fear of how rough he was going to be, but she didn't care, it was torture waiting for him to fill her.

“Alpha,” she purred, her own desire threading through the single word, “make me yours.”

There was only the briefest shiver of anticipation as he dragged his length through her slicked folds once, the swollen head of his cock finding its place at her entrance, and then with a single thrust of his hips, he was home.

Her body sung at the near-violent intrusion, his moan joining hers as she keened beneath him, whimpering and shaking as he impaled her. It was the most beautiful pain she'd ever felt, and then it melted entirely into pleasure, her walls pulsing and twinging as they adjusted to his girth filling her. She could feel the heat of his body pressed to hers, his cock iron hard and thick inside of her, and she never wanted to be anywhere else.

He let out a ragged curse and dragged free, any thoughts he may have had at restraint gone as he buried himself over and over in the tight clasp of her body.

“So bloody tight and perfect, Omega,” he grunted, reveling in the way her body accepted him, her hips pushing and searching for more every time he left her, her words forgotten as she whimpered and mewled into the bed beneath him, taking so perfectly what he gave. “Mine to knot, mine to breed.”

She wasn't sure if she was chanting his title or only imagining it, the rapid shuttling of his cock in and out of her stealing away what little breath she had. Whatever peak he'd brought her over once already, she was swiftly climbing again, her body somehow as taut as a bowstring, yet fluid all at once, as if he were the only thing holding her together. And then, just as quickly, she was falling apart around him, only just aware of his thrusts slowing as he growled praise against the heated skin of her back, his lips caressing and teeth nipping their way towards his shoulder.

The scratch of his teeth dragging slow circles over her scent gland had her trembling, need pressing at the back of her throat as he taunted her with the promise of his claim.

“Mine,” he murmured lowly, his cock pressing deeply into the end of her as the word ghosted over her skin. “What do you need from your alpha, Omega?”

His voice grew distant as he straightened, the heat of his mouth gone from her neck as his hand returned to her hip, his cock starting that slow drag in and out of her body once more.

“All of you,” she gasped, aware that he wasn't done with her yet, her body still tight and aching to be stretched by his knot, every primal instinct in her clamoring to be bred by the man who was her mate.

He pushed somehow deeper into her, gripping her roughly and pulling her back so she could feel the curve of his knot nudging her folds, thick and swollen.

“Is this what you need?” he rasped, his own voice catching at the sheer ecstasy of her wet heat brushing against where he was so sensitive. “You need your Alpha's knot?”

“Yes,” she whimpered, wriggling her hips and hoping she could somehow work him deeper despite how securely he kept her in place. “Every night...for years, Alpha,” she moaned. “It's always been you I've wanted. Need you to fill me up, knot me, breed me...”

A curse shot from his lips and she was suddenly jerked upright, his strong arms clutching her to his chest as he thrust forward, burying himself in her at an angle that made her see stars, each roll of his hips making her tremble and gasp.

“I'm going to give you my knot,” he growled darkly against her ear, his words punctuated by the relentless drive of his cock into her. “I'm going to fuck you and knot you, Omega, claim you right here...” he hissed, his voice almost desperate as his lips hovered over her scent gland. “You'll be mine by the mark on your neck, mine with your belly full of my seed...mine...”

“Yes, yours...yours, Alpha, all for you...” she babbled, only aware of the bliss spiraling out of control inside of her, the unrelenting need to feel his teeth take her neck and make her his, fill her with his knot, his pups, all of it, all of him...

With one last, desperate thrust and a growl that triggered a fresh wave of slick from between her legs, he forced his knot inside of her eager body, his teeth finding her neck. She keened as he latched over her scent gland, puncturing it. The burn and stretch of him filling her left her boneless, her release throbbing and ebbing as he pumped ropes of his seed inside of her. Her neck stung beautifully as he stayed clamped around her, groaning his own orgasm hotly against where her blood marked his mate claim.

She whimpered against his unyielding hold and a growl vibrated against her neck, his mouth tightening around her until she sighed and allowed herself to simply go slack in his arms, trusting that he would ease them into a position that was less precarious than how they were currently joined. For the first time in her life, she finally felt whole and satisfied in a way that she'd been terrified of never knowing. The cramps in her belly were gone with the presence of his knot and the warmth of his release, the fear that had been ever-present in her life vanished beneath the pressure of his teeth in her neck.

This was exactly where she was supposed to be, and she wanted to fall into his arms and sleep, knowing she was safe and cared for – knowing no one could ever keep them apart, not now. A pang of regret coiled and snapped within her chest as he held her carefully and lowered them together to the bed, his chest pressed to her back as he finally released her neck and laved the wound with a long drag of his tongue.

She should have told him first; she should have given him a choice.

“What's wrong?” he murmured, his body tensing in response to hers, his fingers tightening their hold.

There was no sense in mincing her words. Now that her heat had been momentarily sated by her mate – gods, her mate – reality was closing in and she could think clearly once more.

“I didn't tell you who I was.”

He'd been honest with her before he'd taken her to his bed; He was a pirate, a man who clearly answered to no authority other than his own, and yet she hadn't given him the same courtesy.

“Who are you,” he echoed, his voice shadowed with curiosity, “besides my mate?”

If he were to reject her now, after showing her what it meant to feel whole, she wouldn't survive it.

“I'm the princess.”

“My mate is the royal princess?” he drawled, dragging his fingers along the curve of her hip before seizing her chin in his hand and delicately turning her face so that she could see him from the corner of her eye. “I was under the impression the royals of this land were not quite so duplicitous as the rest.”

“I didn't lie,” she hissed, narrowing her eyes. “I simply...”

“Forgot?” he murmured, thrusting his hips languidly against her, his knot pulling against her slick entrance.

“In a manner of speaking,” she bit out, his movement clouding her thoughts, his cock starting to thicken again within her as his knot slowly loosened, slipping from her tight hold.

“And did you worry I would not take you to my bed if I knew?”

“I couldn't risk you saying no,” she admitted. “It would have broken me.”

“And in your mind, what fate have you bound us to, Princess?” he murmured, smelling her desire quicken once more as he circled his hips against her, nearly ready to take her again, “a pirate who wears the reminders of his misdeeds masquerading as a prince? And you, my sweet Omega, derided by your family and court – prey to salacious whispers as you pass?”

“I don't care about any of that. We're fated, Killian.”

“And perhaps in some other realm, some other life, princess, we would have been better suited to one another.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's no matter now – it's done, and those are the sins we'll carry.”

He dragged his finger along the fresh edge of where he'd marked her, the deep bite of his canines traced by the swollen ring of her broken flesh. The redness and pain would fade – as blissful as the sting of it was – but his claim would linger, a silver brand she would wear more prominently than any jewel.

“I don't regret it,” she admitted, bristling inwardly at the thought he might think she wouldn't do everything within her power to secure their future together, “don't think that I do, but I am sorry for not telling you who I was beforehand.”

“I would be lying if I said it would have mattered, Emma. The moment I scented you, it would have made no difference if you'd turned and ran back to the safety of your palace – no matter the words that left my mouth, I would have followed you. To the ends of the world, or time itself, I know that now.”

“Oh, you do?” she purred, stretching alongside his hard form and arching her neck, baring herself to him. “And how can you be so certain?”

“You smelled of heaven, of the paradise that can't be reached where the horizon ends, and now that I know how you kiss, what you taste like – you'll never be rid of me, Princess.”

“Good,” she whispered, hitching her leg over his and welcoming him home, no more room for doubts between them.

“Besides,” he growled, pressing his teeth into the tender flesh of her claim mark to remind her just who she'd taken as a mate, “I sail where I will and answer to no crown – and now that I've had the very best treasure this kingdom has to offer, what's to keep me from sailing away with her?”

“Pirate,” she gasped, his fingers marking her just as surely as his teeth, his cock grinding thickly against her sensitive walls.

“Aye, love – all yours.”

Tagging: @donteattheappleshook @justanother-unluckysoul @kmomof4 @the-darkdragonfly @teamhook @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @jrob64 @wefoundloveunderthelight @tiganasummertree @pirateprincessofpizza @lfh1226-linda @alexa-fangirl-forever @alifeofdreams @superchocovian @hollyethecurious @caught-in-the-filter @snowbellewells @itsfabianadocarmo @stahlop @karlyfr13s @elizabeethan @rkrbirdgirl @batana54 @ilovemesomekillianjones

#captain #cs fanfic #CS fic #sailtoafarawayland #Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics #alpha/omega #where the horizon ends #emma and hook #omegaverse

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tangledstarlight · 3 years

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broken promises and lost dreams (sometimes it’s just all meant to be)princess julieta has known all her life that she would one day have to marry, she’d just always believed in the promise her parents made her that it would be her choice. when she is told a marriage to the prince of stornoway has been arranged for her julieta realises a prison of fine silks and pretty words is still a prison. so, on impulse, she runs away. it’s a long way to willowmarrae, but with new friends and unexplored freedom julieta feels ready for just about anything.

[ it’s a runaway royalty au that no one asked for but im having a blast writing anyway ]

sorry abuot this being like 2 months late and 7k long. thats my bad. but it’s also ff!luke’s fault this chapter is very much just full of bad sword fights, bobby being a complete dickhead and mentions of blood. but the cat finally gets an official name so i think it’s a win-win. anyway, pls enjoy!!

once upon a time there was a girl who faced down her villain with fear in her heart, who froze when she needed to move, who loved her friends enough to give up her freedom.

When she was little Julie had dreamt of going on an adventure like she had read about in one of her books. Of seeing new places and trying new foods and making new friends and fighting foes and saving trapped damsels and falling in love. She had spent hours when she was younger, creating grand adventures and acting them out while her mother laughed and composed a soundtrack just for her.

Then she had gotten older and resigned herself to an ordinary life with predictable days, where her only true freedom would come in the hours spent creating music. Then her mother had died and music lost it’s magic and her father had broken his promise and Julie had run away. Had embarked on an adventure she was not prepared for.

But she liked to think it had been going okay.

Sure the journey was taking a little longer than any of them had expected, and none of them really knew how to cook, but she had made new friends and was seeing new places and trying new things. And she felt free and light and the music she had once composed with her mother was always playing lightly in her mind.

And then there was Luke.

Julie didn’t know if it was love. That seemed like too big of a word for someone she had only known for a handful of weeks, and who she’d practically hated at first. But he was sweet and funny and took the time to apologise when he was wrong and always offered her his extra blanket on the nights that were cold and listened when she talked. And he smiled at her like she was something magical. Like she was important and special. She didn’t know if it was love or like or infatuation, she was excited to find out though. To get to know him more. To maybe see what would happen when they reached Marrae.

It was exactly the kind of adventure she’d always dreamt of. Far off places and new faces and intoxicating emotions.

Which was probably why she should have expected something to go wrong. Because that’s what always happened in the books. The heroes were having a good time until…

So she supposes she should have been better prepared for her ‘until’ moment.

continue on ao3...

#julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #jatp fics #jatp fic #jukebox #i think thats it? idk anyway. i put this off for like a month and a bit then wrote it in 3 days #i truly just write nothing or i write too much. no in between these days #also when i say bobby is Not A Good Person in this fic i mean that whole heartdly so like. pls dont hate me for it ghjfdks #*fics #rosie vs writing

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katierosefun · 4 years

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ever in our favor

Summary: Anakin Skywalker liked to think he wasn't afraid of anything.Ahsoka Tano liked to think no one was afraid of her.Obi-Wan Kenobi liked to think he was too smart to be afraid.[or: the Hunger Games/TCW AU. Three different tributes from three different districts. A tech-whiz, a thief, and the son of a Victor who was cast into the Games on purpose. Happy Hunger Games, everyone.]

read on ao3 | read on ff

wc: 5509

Anakin Skywalker liked to think he wasn’t afraid of anything.

He wasn’t afraid of Peacekeepers, for one thing, not when he could easily outrun any of them. Not that he had had to, not in a long time. He had once had to outrun them when he was little, back when it was easier for his mom to defend him against his stupid little tricks with the electricity or the radio system. He hadn’t meant to mess around with the radios, but he had, and he was pretty sure he somehow transmitted some music from District 11. He had thought it was rather nice, but then Peacekeepers had started looking for him, and his mother had insisted that Anakin was just a “silly little boy” who played with the dials because he had nothing better to do so please, punish me instead—

His mom had been punished that day, in the end. Tied to a post and whipped, and Anakin had screamed himself hoarse, and one of the other women had tugged Anakin aside, forced him to not watch, but Anakin could still hear the whip fall, and he could still hear his mom’s just barely restrained screams. No one had been allowed to touch her even long after the Peacekeeper had finished. Anakin remembered that it was summer, and it was hot, and he remembered being scared only then, even after his mom healed with the help of some of the other men and women in the district.

“Don’t be afraid, Ani,” his mom had said to him later that night, brushing her thumb across his cheek. “Because as soon as you’re afraid, that makes them happy.”

So he decided not to be afraid.

He wouldn’t be afraid—he won’t be afraid, not even if his name had been cast into the lottery more times this year than ever before.

Just twelve times, he thought. Things could be worse. He could have his name put in there nearly forty times, fifty times, which he knew some unlucky folks did for their families. But Anakin just had his mom and himself—no siblings, no dad. Just the two of them. Shmi and Anakin Skywalker.

Just twelve times.

And there weren’t even going to be as many tributes this year—there was only going to be one chosen per district this year for the Third Quarter Quell. Unusual, Anakin knew, but the president had promised that fewer tributes would mean an even more exciting game. Deadlier traps, higher stakes. Draw out the game longer than they had in previous years. Make people more desperate.

“You should eat something,” Shmi said now, pushing bread Anakin’s way.

Anakin looked down and found that it wasn’t the brown, hard stuff that his mom and he had to have most of the time. He found a round, soft roll instead, one without burn marks or mold or anything. Anakin looked back up, surprised.

Shmi smiled. “A gift,” she said. “Our neighbors wish us well.” She pushed the roll a little closer to Anakin. “Now go on, eat.”

He wasn’t really hungry—he wasn’t sure anyone was, not on Reaping Day, but—

Anakin tore the roll in half and pressed one half into his mom’s reluctant hand. “We’ll both need it,” he said, flashing his mom a quick smile. He stood up, forced himself to take a bite. They ate in silence.

The bread seemed to clog itself in Anakin’s throat, and for a moment, he wondered if he wouldn’t be able to swallow—but he eventually did, and then he heard the bells sound across the district.

A quiet gasp—not from himself, but from his mother, who reached over and grabbed his hand in sudden desperation.

“It’s okay,” Anakin said. He squeezed back his mom’s hand. “Nothing’s going to happen to me.” He looked at his mom, smiled again. “What happened to not being afraid?”

A silence passed, and then Shmi gave Anakin a weak smile. “You’re right,” she said after a little while. She lifted a hand, brushed her thumb under his eye like he was a nine-year old again. “I’m not afraid at all.”

“That’s the spirit,” Anakin said. He tugged at his mom’s hands. “Come on,” he said. “After this, we can listen to that music again. The singing, remember?”

Shmi’s face faltered for a moment. “You really should stop…”

“They haven’t caught me yet,” Anakin said with forced lightness. Not since he was nine years old, at least. Seven more years of getting familiar with the technology and goings-on of his district had taught him to be nimbler and smarter with what he did when he did them.

“No,” Shmi said. “I suppose they haven’t.” She squeezed Anakin’s hand again.

And they headed out to greet the rest of District 3.

Ahsoka Tano liked to think no one was afraid of her.

She used that to her advantage—she always had, ever since she was a little girl. She was smaller than most of the girls and boys her age, both in height and frame. So that made her forgettable. Peacekeepers were less likely to be suspicious of a small girl, and the others were less likely to point fingers at someone as seemingly innocent as herself. But Ahsoka knew the truth about her own self: she’d known enough about herself to use that appearance to her advantage, starting from when she was old enough to work in the fields. Her baggy clothes made for useful ways to pocket more food and sneak back to her dad and her friends.

And she hadn’t been caught once—the Peacekeepers hadn’t ever noticed, and Ahsoka had always been careful to swipe only enough in haphazard places. The closest she ever got to getting caught was the time she stole a whole loaf of bread from a Peacekeeper, but by the time he had discovered the thieving, Ahsoka and the other field workers had already been long gone, and luckily, the Peacekeeper’s dog had been close enough to be the suspected thief instead.

She got away with those little things easily, and no one ever suspected her. So Ahsoka told herself that if she got chosen, then—

Ahsoka curled her hands over her lap.

But she didn’t want to be chosen—

She couldn’t be chosen. This was only her second year. She only had her name in three times. Her three older brothers—Wolffe, Boost, Sinker, and Comet—all had their names in more times than her, Wolffe with the highest: forty-two pieces of paper with his name would be in the lottery today. Eighteen years old and covering for all five members of their family. And Ahsoka knew that next year, Boost would be the one covering for all of the, and then the year after that, Sinker, and then Comet.

A part of Ahsoka wondered if her dad ever regretted having as many children as he did—they weren’t even technically related, not by blood anyways. But Plo Koon had always been a man with more heart than he probably needed, and there were many starving babies left on porches a decade or so ago, when District 11 got hit with an unexpected frost overnight.

The only real blood relations might be amongst Ahsoka’s brothers—they had been a whole set, Wolffe being the oldest and drifting along with his younger brothers when Plo Koon found them hovering near the market.

As for Ahsoka, she was told that she had just been dropped at Plo Koon’s doorstep in the middle of the night, and that had been that. Ahsoka didn’t try to figure out who her birth parents were—as far as she was considered, Plo Koon was her dad, and that was all that mattered.

Ahsoka curled her hands over her knees. She glanced around her room—really, the whole family’s room, separated only by curtains, but she liked her little space. She fingered the hem of her skirt: a pretty red thing that fell right above her knees. She had only worn it once before, on her birthday. She thought it was fitting that she should wear it on Reaping Day.

The slight brush of a hand against the curtain behind her was what brought Ahsoka’s head up.

“There you are,” Plo Koon said, sitting down next to Ahsoka on her bed. “I figured you might be here.”

Ahsoka smiled. Tried to smile. “Do we need to go?” she asked.

“Not yet,” Plo Koon replied. He turned around, and Ahsoka smelled the flowers before seeing them first. She smiled for real this time as Plo Koon tucked a red-orange flower right into her hair. “Do you know what this is?”

Ahsoka concentrated for a moment, trying to remember, and then she said, “Marigolds. Tagetes patula, to be exact.”

“Correct,” Plo Koon said, his eyes wrinkling a little bit at the corners as he smiled. He leaned back, tilted his head, and suddenly that smile turned sad, and Ahsoka knew what he was thinking, because she was thinking and dreading the same exact thing too.

There was the sound of rushing feet and curtains being batted aside, and suddenly, Wolffe and the others were crowded around Ahsoka’s little space, breathing hard but eyes bright. Ahsoka knew that they had just spent the last few minutes running through the district—they always did, to work off the nerves and, as Sinker once put it, “to piss off the Peacekeepers one last time”—even though all the Peacekeepers were busy with the Reaping Day preparations. (“Don’t,” Wolffe would always groan.)

“Look at you,” Comet was saying, flashing Ahsoka a grin. “Nice flower.”

“Don’t laugh,” Ahsoka said, flicking Comet on the shoulder. She nodded at Plo Koon. “He got some for you guys, too.”

“That’s true,” Plo Koon said. “Come here, boys.”

“Dad—”

“Come on, I think we’ll look pretty, don’t you think?”

Some grumbling and laughter later, and the whole family had flowers tucked behind their ears.

Boost and Sinker looked at each other, snickered, and then bowed their heads, nearly knocking their foreheads together. (“You look lovely, Sinker.” “No, you, I insist—”)

Ahsoka smiled at her family. They would be just fine, she told herself. She looked up at Wolffe last, who was watching their brothers with some restrained amusement. Wolffe caught her staring, and he smiled—rare, coming from him, but Ahsoka figured that they all needed it.

We’ll be fine, she thought again. She adjusted the flower in her hair and looked out the window, where people were already starting to trail out of their homes. They would be just fine.

Obi-Wan Kenobi liked to think that he was too smart to be afraid.

Being afraid made people lose focus, made them do stupid things like run or jump without looking where they were heading. That was what he had learned from his time watching countless games, ever since he was a child. He would watch them even when his father wasn’t, because even though his father was one of the many famed Victors of their district, Obi-Wan liked to be prepared.

Which was why he had taken to learning and quietly training on his own when he was little—and then his father had caught him, and instead of reprimanding him, Qui-Gon Jinn had only adjusted Obi-Wan’s grip on the makeshift spear he had made for himself (really nothing more than a large stick that Obi-Wan had sharpened to a point).

And of course, the Peacekeepers, had they seen anything, didn’t argue. Secret training in preparation for the games was commonplace enough in District 1. If anything, it would have been strange if the Victors didn’t train their own children, blood-related or not.

Obi-Wan pushed himself away from the back door of the house—mansion, really, but Obi-Wan always referred to it as a house in his own mind. He stepped across the backyard, looked at the lemon trees that made a semi-circle around the perimeter of the yard. Obi-Wan reached out for one, scratched at the peel. Rolled it between his hands. Wondered if there would be any trees in the arena. One time the games had been a frozen wasteland, which hadn’t been fun—most of the tributes had just froze to death, with lips blue and eyes still open. There had been a desert before too, all dunes of orange and yellow sand, and that had gone poorly as well. Most tributes either went mad with thirst or simply laid down and refused to get back up due to the heat.

“Here again?”

Obi-Wan turned to find Qui-Gon standing at the back door.

Obi-Wan held up the lemon in his hand. “This was about to fall off anyways,” he said, tossing the fruit over to Qui-Gon.

His father caught it one-handed. “So it was,” he said. He looked up at Obi-Wan. “What do you see?”

“Seven lemon trees,” Obi-Wan said. “One of the trees is growing sick. We’ll have to take care of it soon.”

Qui-Gon’s lips twitched. “What else?”

Your shirt’s looser than it was last week, Obi-Wan thought. Dark circles under his father’s eyes, skin paler than normal.

Obi-Wan said as much.

Qui-Gon smiled. “Good observations,” he said.

Obi-Wan didn’t smile back. He took another lemon from the tree, found the grey rot on its underside. He frowned, tucked the lemon in his own pocket to dispose of it properly later. He looked back to his father, found that Qui-Gon’s smile had faded.

“When you go into the arena,” he said, “you’ll have to make sure you’re always observing. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan replied, walking back to the back door. He started to walk past Qui-Gon, but his father caught him by the shoulder.

Obi-Wan looked up at Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon looked back down at Obi-Wan intently. A moment passed before he said at last, “I’m sorry that it has to come down to this.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Obi-Wan said. He took out the rotting lemon in his pocket and stepped through the back door. He threw it in the bin, where it landed with a satisfying thunk. The bin had been meters and meters away, but Obi-Wan’s aim had been perfect.

He saw Qui-Gon nod—just the slightest tilt of his head to signal his approval.

Obi-Wan looked at Qui-Gon. “When she calls my name,” he said, “am I supposed to react in any particular way?”

“Don’t look afraid,” Qui-Gon replied.

“I won’t.” Obi-Wan turned to the hall mirror, adjusted his clothes: a white shirt, dark trousers. They didn’t need any actual adjusting, not with the clothes tailored specifically to his size and shape, but still. Obi-Wan made eye-contact with Qui-Gon standing behind him.

“I don’t suppose you have any idea what the other tributes will be like this year,” Obi-Wan said, moreso a statement than a question.

“They’ll be more desperate,” Qui-Gon said.

Everyone was going to be desperate.

Obi-Wan nodded anyways, straightened himself one last time. Then the bells were ringing over the district, signaling everyone to come for the Reaping. A part of Obi-Wan wished that they didn’t all have to gather in one place—really, there was no point, when he knew that he was going to get chosen anyways. Not that anyone else did.

Obi-Wan turned to Qui-Gon.

“I’ll see you on the train,” Qui-Gon said. “And remember: play the part.”

Play the part—be the triumphant, happy Career, son of the Victor that Panem expected. Proud to get a chance to prove to the rest of Panem that he was, in fact, just as much the talented and clever soon-to-be-victor that his own father was.

Obi-Wan nodded.

There were too many people clustered in one area, and there wasn’t enough space.

Really, Anakin wished that the Peacekeepers could have chosen someplace else to hold the reaping, but the Hall of Justice had to do, even though the inside hall was too small to fit everyone inside. There were a few children in the roped-off sections outside. Anakin didn’t know why they couldn’t all be outside, with at least more room to breathe, but there was something about apparently the back mural of the Hall of Justice—a ridiculous piece commemorating the Capitol—that was perfectly perfect for the rest of the Capitol audience.

Anakin didn’t like the mural. There were too many bright colors, and the faces looked all wrong.

He turned to find his mom. She was standing at the other end of the hall, where all the other parents were. Shmi caught his eye and smiled weakly, fluttering her fingers over at him.

Anakin smiled back, but then the sound of someone clearing a throat drew everyone’s attention back to the front.

“Welcome!” a man in a ridiculously flashy, ridiculously golden suit smiled blandly at the crowd. Anakin couldn’t help himself: he laughed a little to himself. Everyone knew who Threepio was, the escort well-known for his silly little tirades about nothing in particular. “Ah, there are quite a lot of you, aren’t there—yes, more faces than last year…” An awkward little laugh to himself, which no one responded to.

“Well, yes,” Threepio said, blinking down at them all. “Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds—”

Be ever in your favor, Anakin finished for him.

“Today, we are joined by—ah, yes, Miss Amidala, hello, ma’am, so good to see you today!”

There was a sudden rustling in the crowd as everyone lifted their heads at the name.

Including Anakin’s, as he watched District 3’s sole victor walk across the makeshift stage.

She wasn’t that much older than him—Anakin remembered her own games five years ago, back when she was eighteen and he was thirteen. He couldn’t remember much then, except that he thought she was the most beautiful person in the world, with dark hair and even darker eyes. The other tribute had been his age too. Another thirteen year old boy, who Anakin watched die with a spear in his chest.

“Thank you, Threepio,” Padmé Amidala said now, tilting her head at Threepio. She looked out to the crowd, and Anakin’s breath caught in his throat.

“Now we can begin!” Threepio said in that blandly cheerful voice. He turned to the little crystal ball full of leaflets.

Anakin turned to his mother again.

But Shmi wasn’t looking at him—she was whispering something into a crying woman’s ear, probably reassuring her of whatever was to come.

And then someone jostled into Anakin, and for a moment, all he felt was himself being shoved to the ground—someone had fainted, he realized, and he looked down to shake the person next to him awake, come on, get up, don’t do this now—

The boy—because it had been a boy who had fainted right into Anakin, blinked up at him with glazed eyes. “I don’t wanna go,” he whispered.

“You won’t,” Anakin whispered back. “Just get up, before you create a scene. Okay?”

The boy only whimpered, curled in on himself. He couldn’t have been that much older than twelve. Anakin looked around, wondering if he had any siblings, anyone who could—

“Listen,” Anakin said, looking back down at the boy. “Don’t be afraid. Okay?” He tugged at the boy’s arm, forcing him upright. “Because as soon as you’re afraid, that’s when you make them happy. And we can’t let that happen, can we?”

The boy’s bottom lip wobbled.

“Can we?” Anakin repeated.

The boy shook his head.

“Great,” Anakin said. “Good.” He tugged the boy up to his feet. “So come on. Don’t be scared now—” But then he realized that there were other eyes on him, not just the boy beside him. He could feel the shift in the air, the sudden turn of heads.

Anakin paused, and then he looked up.

“Anakin Skywalker?” Threepio’s voice called. He was craning his neck over the microphone, hand over his eyes. “Is that you over there, boy?”

Anakin stared.

Mom, where’s Mom—

Anakin looked to the side.

He found Shmi staring back at him, her eyes wide and fearful, hand clapped over her mouth because—

Oh, he realized. He hadn’t heard Threepio the first time, because he had been busy with the kid—

“Anakin Skywalker, if you can come up now please—”

Anakin slowly turned back around to the stage. He heard, rather than saw, the others shift around him. People slowly stepping out of his way, creating a straight path between himself and the stage.

Anakin took one step.

Two steps.

And then he was walking across the hall, to the stage.

He climbed up, hoping that his steps were steady. He wasn’t sure if they were.

“Ah, yes,” Threepio said from somewhere in front of him. “Here we are.”

Anakin lifted his eyes. He saw a blur of a face, realized then that there was a hand guiding his back so that he could turn to the crowd. “Our tribute from District 3!”

Anakin looked to the crowd. Mom, where’s Mom—

But he couldn’t see anyone’s faces. The lights were too bright, and there were suddenly so many cameras, and Anakin could only blink at them all. He felt a cold hand wrap around his wrist, hoist it into the air.

Our tribute from District 3—

There were too many people clustered in one area, and there wasn’t even a breeze to keep off the heat.

Ahsoka swiped at the sweat dripping down the back of her neck. She was glad that her clothes were relatively light, but still. She looked over at her brothers, who were all lined up together near the back. Ahsoka catches their eyes, and they all make a face at her. The joke is clear: bored already.

Ahsoka stifles a smile and turns to the front, surprised to find that there is a different escort than the one that usually greeted the tributes. Gone was the previous Capitol man with his strange assortment of clothing and wigs, but instead, there was a pale—remarkably pale—woman with long legs and a completely shaved head save for a few elaborate purple tattoos.

“Look alive,” the escort said, bored. There was a little bit of a rustling amongst the crowd at that—look alive hardly seemed like the appropriate greeting, but—

“Ah, yes, and welcome to the Hunger Games, Reaping, et cetera.” The woman’s sharp eyes surveyed the crowd for a full second before adding, “We might as well get started. Our dear victor isn’t able to make an appearance today, caught up with very important matters all relating to the games, of course, and et cetera.”

You already said that, Ahsoka thought.

“So let’s just get this show started, shall we?” The woman reached into the crystal ball faster than Ahsoka anticipated, and something in her lurched because she wasn’t ready for it to be done that quickly—

Ahsoka blindly turned to her brothers again, and they were already waiting for.

Wolffe mouthed something: it’s fine, and then—

“Ahsoka Tano.”

Ahsoka was still looking at her brothers, so she saw the horror on their faces before she felt her own.

And then Wolffe started moving forward, which was how Ahsoka knew that wait, this was happening, and wait, what was Wolffe doing—

“I volunteer,” Wolffe said quickly, stepping out onto the path between the boys and the girls. “In Ahsoka Tano’s place—I volunteer as tribute.”

Ahsoka’s ears rang. Wait, Wolffe, no—

A silence, and then the escort smiled. Ahsoka wasn’t sure how she could be smiling at a time like this, but the escort only lifted up the leaflet bearing Ahsoka’s name. “Sorry, sweetheart,” the woman said, “but president’s orders. No volunteers for this Quarter Quell.”

Another ripple through the crowd at that news.

“Wait—” Wolffe started. “But we didn’t—”

“Of course you didn’t hear it yet,” the woman said, folding the leaflet in her hands with a few deft strokes. “News gets around the districts slow, doesn’t it? But rules are rules.” Her sharp eyes combed through the crowd. “Now, Ahsoka Tano, do come up—we’ve got a long day ahead of us, and the day’s rather hot.”

Ahsoka didn’t feel hot at all. She was cold all over.

Ahsoka looked at her brothers again. They were all staring at her, pained and wide-eyed, and she saw a sudden burst of movement—but then Wolffe was holding them back because the Peacekeepers were suddenly closer now.

It’s fine, Ahsoka thought. She looked at her brothers, gave them a tight nod. I’ll be fine.

She wondered where her dad was. She didn’t know where he went or where he was located here—probably with the other parents, but what was he doing now? She dully hoped that there was someone around to comfort him, because no one could move until she left with her escort.

Ahsoka made her way to the front, hearing only the whispers of some of the other girls as she weaved through them. For a moment, she thought they wouldn’t let her get past. It was almost as though all the other girls were desperately trying to keep her in, keep her from entering the games, and the thought almost made Ahsoka stop walking altogether.

Someone squeezed Ahsoka’s arm. She wasn’t sure who, but then someone else was touching her shoulder, another was brushing the hair from her face, another was readjusting the flower near her ear. And Ahsoka emerged from the crowd with the ghost of touches from the others in her district, and then she was at the front of the stage, looking up at the pale, long-legged woman.

“Well, come on up,” the woman said, jerking her head.

Ahsoka straightened her shoulders. Headed for the stairs. She looked to the back of the stage—thought she saw something moving in the background, but then she was being turned to look at the cameras gathered around her.

A pat on her shoulder from the woman. Her hand was cold.

“Our tribute from District 11,” the woman said flatly to the cameras. She looked down at Ahsoka, nodded her head to the cameras again. “Anything in particular you want to say while the cameras are still rolling, sweetheart? Give a good first impression for all of us?”

Ahsoka stared up at the woman. This wasn’t usually how most reapings went—she wasn’t sure if this new escort was making fun of her or not.

Ahsoka looked to the cameras.

People aren’t afraid of you, a voice whispered at the back of her head. Make them keep thinking that.

So Ahsoka only smiled—her sweetest, most naïve smile, the kind that she only ever gave when she was trying to wheedle her brothers into doing something for her. She twirled a strand of her dark hair around a finger and waved at the camera until her wrist hurt.

Obi-Wan didn’t care if there were too many people clustered around the area. He’d be separated from the rest soon enough.

He saw some boys and girls toss curious glances his way. Some sneers, but most just watched him with a wary eye. Obi-Wan already knew most of them were running statistics in their heads: trying to guess whether or not he would be able to get drawn. He was eighteen—his name would have technically only been cast seven times, and he didn’t have any need to cast his name any more than that.

Obi-Wan didn’t bother meeting the stares of those who looked at him. Let them stare, he decided. He would be under the attention of the entire country in just a few minutes anyways, and in just a few days, he would be under the attention of the entire country for hours on end. He might as well get some more practice now.

Not that he hadn’t had practice before. Being the Victor’s son always got him an extra glance or two in school, in the streets. He remembered a boy had once asked him if his father ever told him stories of the games, so Obi-Wan had made one up on the spot, just so the boy could leave him alone.

The truth was Qui-Gon didn’t tell Obi-Wan too much of his own experience in the games. There had been some clips played, of course, during each reaping—clips of his father emerging victorious out of a dense jungle with mud and blood splattered across his face, but he had been standing defiant until the very end.

Obi-Wan figured he wouldn’t get a jungle, not for his games. The game-makers didn’t like repeating themselves, and from what Obi-Wan had watched from the recordings of his own father’s time at the games, he was a little glad he wouldn’t be stuck in a jungle. There had been great bugs that sucked their victims dry of blood, suffocating mists that left their victims choking on their own vomit and spit, vines that came to life and tried strangling their victims to death whenever things got a little too slow. Obi-Wan had watched a clip of his own father use one of those vines to his own advantage, somehow manipulating them into choking one of his pursuers instead.

Qui-Gon had shut off the television after finding Obi-Wan watching that recording.

They hadn’t spoken about it afterwards, and when Obi-Wan went to search for the recording of those games again, he found that they were deleted from the television. He was fairly sure the Capitol didn’t allow such behavior, but he didn’t ask questions, and his father didn’t give him any answers.

Obi-Wan watched some of the clips from the previous games play before him now: shots of his father, and then shots of the other victors from the past in their final moments. Most of the victors were from District 1, District 2, District 4. All of the more favored districts. But there was the occasional victor from the other districts—Mace Windu from District 7, Quinlan Vos from District 5, Luminara Unduli from District 8, and most recently, a young girl named Katooni from District 12. That had been a surprise to all—the girl was no more than twelve years old, and yet everyone had watched her confuse her opponent into falling off the edge of a cliff. There weren’t any other living victors from District 12—Obi-Wan tried to imagine this child now attempting to mentor and get sponsorships for someone who might potentially be older than herself.

And now, finally, the escort—a young, blonde woman who Obi-Wan knew as Satine Kryze, although he couldn’t be sure that was her real name—all the Capitol people made up their own names by the day, it seemed. He had only ever met her a few times, once in his own home. She couldn’t have been that much older than himself, and he remembered being confused why there was a random girl in the hallway, but then she had just given him a quick, appraising look before walking out.

Obi-Wan only found out that he was to be the new escort a few weeks ago, and now, if it hadn’t been for the fact that Qui-Gon had told him that the girl in their home was to be the escort, he wouldn’t have guessed looking at Satine now: she was dressed in a particularly voluminous blue dress, her hair piled atop her head in an elaborate headset.

“Welcome,” Satine said now, nodding at the crowd as though they were all good friends. “And welcome to the 75th Hunger Games. May the odds be ever in your favor.” Her lips curled into a slight smile, as though she knew something that the rest of the district didn’t. For all Obi-Wan knew, she might already know what the game makers were planning. He didn’t put it past the escorts for his district to somehow already have some inside knowledge with the rest of the games.

And beside Satine, Obi-Wan saw his father. Still wearing the same loose shirt, loose pants that was only halfheartedly held up by a belt, but someone had applied enough makeup to reduce the dark circles under his eyes.

“May the odds be ever in your favor,” Satine repeated, and then she dipped her hand into the bowl.

And when she said his name—it didn’t matter if his name wasn’t actually on the leaflet she had pulled, she would say his name anyways, that was the deal, Obi-Wan knew, Obi-Wan pressed through the crowd without a second thought. It wasn’t difficult for him to keep his shoulders back, chin up.

Don’t look afraid, Qui-Gon had told him.

Only idiots get afraid, Obi-Wan thought. He kept his hands at his sides, mounted the stairs to the stage. Satine and Qui-Gon both looked at him, gave him a slight nod as he made his way to the front of the stage.

He looked at the cameras and smiled.

Let the games begin.

#tcw #tcw fic #star wars #the clone wars #swtcw #sw #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #thg #the hunger games #my fic #well HERE WE GOOO

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