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xia0mi-c0m · 3 months ago

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The proshipping problem in the twst fandom | A rant.

Very obvious trigger warning for things normal for proshippers like p3dophilia, incest, etc.

Though I do know proshippers will be in every single fandom, it's getting especially worse in the twst fandom, specifically the Japanese side of the fandom (with some discussions about some in the English side too).

Before any proshippers come into the comment section: Proshipping is NOT a healthy coping mechanism. If your therapist recommended it, they should be fired.

This post is not to dehumanize and degrade underage proshippers as they have been obviously groomed into believing that it was okay to ship this sort of stuff.

The actual elephant in the room we WILL be shunning is the adult proshippers who actively encourage children (either actually or under law) to proship.

Before getting fully deep in this subject, I would like to admit something that I've talked about before.

I was a proshipper when I was younger than what I am now. This was because, not getting into too much detail, I was groomed by a man online to the point that i thought it was okay.

Not only was I a proshipper but I was also a darkshipper, problematic comshipper, and also supported the things present in Dead Dove fanfics.

In fact, I had an account on some sort of forum page with other proshippers and I shared my nasty ships there. I believed it was a good way of desensitizing myself to my trauma that fucked me up heavily, but it wasn't and it was making me relive the same trauma which in return, made it worse.

This is why I say that I do not want anyone to shun underage proshippers, they were groomed into it half of the time.

Now that I'm 18 (About to turn 19 on February 14th), I finally understand that proshipping is an unhealthy way of approaching your trauma and pain.

It may feel like it does something, but it really doesn't. And I want to reassure you that you're not alone in your pain, please, find other ways to cope and process what has happened to you that doesn't include glorifying very nasty things.

Now with that out the way, I would like to say what the title says.

Proshippers in the twst fandom has sadly grown overtime, but my niece made a very good point; stating that since twst does have a slightly dark story, that people with dark and nasty thoughts and ideas will be attracted to it, much like a moth to a flame that damages it's already fragile body.

There have been adults in the twst proshipper area, and I think they're the main cause of fueling minors in the fandom to do the same thing. Maybe with or without knowing the eventual psychological consequences.

The adults who are aware sadly lure and prey on the gullible underage individuals of the fandom, and though that might seem like an overexaggeration; it sadly is true.

I am Japanese, well, half-Japanese. But even then, due to that fact, I'm more prevalent in the Japanese fandom than the English fandom though I am trying to balance out both.

Since I am more present in the Japanese side of the fandom than I am with the English side (because I'm basically like an absent dad that went off to get the milk and never came back until years), I have seen a lot of shit in here and it's very scary even to this day.

Though the English side of the fandom is as equally bad, the Japanese side is worse with the whole l0li and sh0ta thing. Sadly I have seen English twst accounts do those things too.

The most popular proshipper you may know is Ugigi or however the fuck you spell her name, whether one likes to admit it or not, her selfships were very much proshipping. This is mainly due to how her OC could've been her actual age which was in her 20s if I'm remembering correctly.

But let's say the OC wasn't, it would still be problematic (but not in the proship way) since the characters she drew NSFW of were mainly the minors (again, if I remember correctly). If her OC was her actual age then she would be a proshipper.

However, watever the age of the OC she always drew, it's obvious that it was still leaning more on proshipping because that indicates that she's attracted to the characters despite knowing they're minors (and not even aging them up by the way).

So, very nasty, I was thinking of putting her In the TWs 😭

All jokes aside, proshipping is disgusting.

In fact, must I bring up any other thing?

LEECHCEST.

WHAT.

Well, you heard that right, people ship Floyd and Jade. Seriously, what is wrong with you guys. And I think I know why this ship is so popular in the Japanese fandom; The fact incest is not necessarily illegal in Japan in a way.

Yeah. You heard me correctly. I'm horrified and scarred for life <3

"Surely there isn't anymore I shall talk about, right? Right?? RIGHT?!?" I exclaim, not expecting anything else to come from the sky and hit me.

Then boom..

SHROUDCEST.

OH FUCK NOT AGAIN.

So, apparently people ship a dead robotic little boy with his big brother.. yeah... FNAF fandom called, they're telling you not to steal their bit much like how Deejus is trying to tell Johnny RaZeR not to steal his "YOUTUBEEE" outro bit that.. he also stole.

It can't get any worse than this, right? This is definitely the last tier of the iceberg, surely? Perhaps??-

KINGSCHOLARCEST.

Okay, now we're pushing it, this bit is getting old but whatever.

Kingscholarcest can refer to three (disgusting) "ships": A nasty ship of Cheka x Leona, a nasty ship of Falena x Leona, or a nasty ship of Falena x Leona x Cheka.

Sweet home Alabama all around but more extreme..

I think we all know why these ships are not okay and are disgusting (ESPECIALLY CHEKA X LEONA SINCE CHEKA IS A GOO GOO GA GA BABY.)

Finally.. It's over.. I can go back to ranting!-

FELLOW X GIDEL.

JESUS CHRIST STOP.

This madness needs to stop because if not I'm going to pull my fucking hair out!-

LILMAL, SILVER X LILIA, S-

OKAY STOP IT RIGHT HERE,, THE BIT IS OLD NOW.

So, I think you get my point.

Borderline incestuous ships, the drake specialty, and straight up sweet home right to Alabama.

Now, let's put aside the jokes and get serious again.

With all the things I have stated, you can definitely see the absolute horror of some parts of the fandom.

There's accounts that are VERY hypocritical, saying "P3dos DNI" when they are a sh0ta/l0licon. This is the literal definition of hypocrisy at it's finest.

There are mfs who have unironically said that Cheka was hot and romantically cute.. HE'S 7 YEARS OLD. OR MAYBE YOUNGER. I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER BUT I DO KNOW HE IS A CHILD.

I have said this MANY times before and I'll say it again; if that characters looks like a child, THEY ARE A CHILD.

Even if you age up characters like Ortho, Cheka, etc. You are still self-reporting that you're attracted to a literal child.

Fiction DOES affect reality no matter if you try to plug your mickey mouse ears with your fingers (or paws, I don't know) to gaslight yourself into believing it doesn't truly affect it.

In fact, there have been cases where people have been arrested for having l0li/sh0ta on their devices, though, sadly, its not a long sentence despite how it should be lifelong.

But even without the lifelong sentence, the law still considers l0li/sh0ta CSAM. (I hate calling it CP now since that implies that kids can do that in their own will.)

A grown adult proshipper even told me when I criticized Kanna from dragon maid for being a little girl the author sexualizes to no end all because I said that she doesn't have a listed age that I was being "contradicting" and I think this proves that.. proshippers DON'T know what contradictions ACTUALLY are because they've gaslit so much into believing this disgusting behavior is normal and okay to do.

And don't get me started on Dead Dove cai, chai, etc. bots and fanfics.

Dead Dove, proshipping, problematic comshipping, darkshipping, doveshipping, etc. doesn't give out awareness to the horrors of such depraved acts.

Another very nasty thing I've seen in the TWST fandom is people shipping the staff with the students, mainly Crewel with Deuce.

Teacher x Student is disgusting no matter what. Teachers are always more grown than the students, so yeah, teachers aren't the anime boy or girl of your dreams or something, he or she's going to be old and otherwise not "attractive" and young.

The training to become a teacher and any profession in fact will take years, which means you'll grow and turn old.

I understand many say "Well, it's just fiction!" but these people seem to forget that young individuals, especially young girls, can see these teacher x student fiction and will probably, in the worst case scenario, get the wrong impression from it, ESPECIALLY if the media glamorizes and romanticize it, and sadly become a victim.

Crewel, If I'm not wrong, is 31 meanwhile Deuce and the other first years that [Crewel] mainly gets shipped with are 16 years old.

This is not only a disgusting, vomit-inducing age gap but huge maturity gap whether one likes to admit so or not.

Yanderes especially in the twst fandom get romanticized, and people seem to forget the reality of the abuse that yanderes put their "love interest(s)" through.

And I think this is why fandoms (not just twst) should stop romanticizing yanderes and student x teacher, and vice versa.

Besides, these two tropes are grooming even if the victim is not a minor, adults and the elderly alike can also be groomed especially if they're gullible and need to depend on someone (for either a disability or something).

People will probably invalidate my point but I don't budge from what I said.

Sorry if this posts looks rushed and/or maybe even incoherent to some, I just wanted to get this off my chest and stuff.

I should start ranting more, I like yapping so yeah, expect more whenever I'm bored :3

Anyways, BAIIII!!

YOUTUBEEEEEE flies away into the void to the right

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badbatchsprincess · 1 year ago

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Heated ~ pt. 3

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6 ~ Pt.7 ~ Pt.8 ~ Pt.9 ~ Pt.10 ~Pt.11 ~ Pt.12 ~ Pt.13 ~ Pt.14 ~ Pt.15 ~ Pt.16 ~ Pt.17 ~ Pt.18 ~ Pt.19 ~ Pt.20 ~ Pt.21 ~ Pt.22 ~ Pt.23 ~ Pt.24 ~ Pt.25

Masterlist

Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.

THIS IS AN ABO AU ABOUT THE BAD BATCH (NO CANON OMEGA!) Due to the unfortunate situation of her name being Omega… Omega the child from the canon series is not going to be apart of this fanfic/porn with a plot. I feel obligated to put this warning in because it makes my skin crawl thinking anyone could make that mistake.

Warnings: Some suggestive themes regarding heat cycles and general awkwardness. Also Layla is a playful omega causing trouble for the boys.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

A sweet scent filled your nose, drawing you slowly from your slumber. Reaching out with your hand, you were met with the softest sheets you’ve felt in a long time. A silky hand lightly traced along your cheek and combed back your hairline in a soothing manner. You leaned into the touch, finally starting to come back to consciousness.

“Hey, pretty girl,” a saccharine female voice lulled you back.

You groaned, feeling the aches returning to your body as your eyes fluttered.

With a slow blink, you winced at how bright the lights were, longing to return to the comforting darkness behind your eyes.

“Her vitals are coming back,” the voice said, moving to brush your hair away from your face. “You can get the General now.”

You finally started to adjust to the white lights. Looking around, you took in the stark hospital room, along with the massive window of stars to your left. Sitting on the stool next to you was a face you didn’t expect to see outside the field.

“Layla?” you croaked, feeling how hoarse your voice had become.

“Hey,” she gave you a sweet smile, never leaving your side.

“Where…?” you tried sitting up, but she gently kept you lying down with a small, manicured hand. “W-where am I?”

You recognized the room as a Republic vessel. This certainly wasn’t the Marauder.

“You’re on General Skywalker’s Venator,” she informed you.

You scrunched your nose in confusion. “H-how?”

“Your squad brought you here,” she kept combing your scalp with her nails. “You had a pretty bad accident.”

You stared at her, struggling to piece together the events that led you here. How had you ended up back on Skywalker's ship? Wasn't he on Coruscant for repairs?

"Why are you here? You never leave the clinic," you noted, trying to make sense of the situation.

"I wouldn't have, but I was with the boys when they received the call," Layla explained, with a sweet smile. "They thought I should come and be with you. And there was no way my boss was turning down a directive from General Skywalker."

You sighed, still grappling with confusion. Where was your squad? Was the 501st here? Your mind raced with questions until Layla offered you a glass of ice-cold water, which you eagerly accepted.

You looked down at your hands, seeing the deep purple bruises on your left wrist along with the scraps and cuts. Suddenly, you started to remember what happened. The wild look in Hunter’s eyes as he manhandled you around the ship. The way he threw you like a rag doll, trying to tear the implant out of you. You gasped and went to touch your shoulder where he had cut you.

Layla watched you with concern. "It's okay. We patched you up. The sniper did a decent job, but you passed out when they brought you on board."

"What?" you looked at her, recalling Crosshair's unexpected assistance and protection.

You remembered his uncharacteristic behavior, both his hostility and his unexpected care. It was a jarring contrast to his usual demeanor.

“Strange Alpha,” she smiled. “He snarled at us when we tried to get you to the medical wing. He only agreed to let you go when he realized omegas would be treating you. I thought he was going to take Kix’s head off. He carried you all the way up here.”

You looked at her with shock in your eyes. Crosshair? He doesn’t give a crap about anyone… Especially not you…

“If you knew him, you’d be shocked hearing that,” you tried to laugh, but your throat was killing you. She laughed.

Just then, the sound of approaching footsteps signaled the arrival of General Skywalker. With a kind smile, he greeted Layla before turning his attention to you, offering a warm embrace that elicited a wince from your still-aching body. You didn’t miss the way Layla’s cheeks flushed pink in his presence.

"Explain yourself," he teased, though his eyes held a hint of concern. "I thought you were tired of taking beatings, which is why you left us."

You chuckled weakly, feeling a pang of guilt at his playful reproach. You knew he and the others were likely unsettled by your departure. They didn’t like their pack mates straying too far.

"If I had known this was in store, I would have stayed," you joked, gesturing to your bruises. "Your hair has gotten long," you noted, observing its length.

An amused smirk played across his lips.

"Can someone tell me what happened?" you asked, still bewildered. "How did I end up here? Where's my unit? Is Hunter okay?"

Anakin hesitated, exchanging a glance with Layla before responding. "Sergeant Hunter? He's alive," he assured you, explaining the situation as best he could.

“He’s alive?” you asked confirming. “I-I had, I had to…” you remembered pulling the trigger. The sound his blaster made and the look on his face when he realized what you did. The monitors next to your head started beeping faster with your anxious heart rate.

“He’s alive,” Anakin said trying to calm you. “They had to run some tests on him to make sure the chemical compounds were out of his system. I-I didn’t know exactly what happened until your pilot informed me. He said the Sergeant was exposed to drugs that caused him to attack you…”

“He brutalized her,” Layla growled, looking you over. You were covered head to toe in bruises. Layla had cried when she saw the cut he had made, tearing out your implant, then the bruises. When she had peeled Crosshair’s shirt from you, she had sobbed seeing the bruises littering your entire form.

You lowered your eyes to the sheets, starting to feel like you were going to cry again.

“He didn’t know what he was doing. He wasn’t in his right mind,” you whispered, feeling guilty for shooting him.

Anakin sighed and placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to console you.

“You did what you had to do, Tiny,” Anakin reminded you. “He’s a soldier. He understands that.”

Layla huffed. Omegas understood alphas can be cruel. That’s just the universe we live in. But it was eating up your friend to see the damage you withstood.

“We are working with the survivor. She’s trying to help us understand what happened to your Sergeant. But until then…” he stood up and walked to the door, “You have a lot of very anxious pack members waiting to see you.”

He opened the door, and not a moment later, two blurs of white and blue came barreling into the room.

“Tiny!” Fives and Jesse flung themselves on top of you. Anakin left with a smile, leaving you to be dog-piled by his men.

“Ugh!” you barked on impact. Jesse snuggled into your side while Fives curled up on your feet. Just like pups. You winced as their armor collided with the fresh bruises.

“Tiny, I thought you died!” Jesse wailed, clinging onto your side.

“I’m okay,” you petted his head.

“I’ll get some more bacta for those bruises,” Layla giggled and stood up, leaving the boys to rub up on you with their comforting scents.

“I was worried,” Fives squeezed your ankle. “We had just gotten to the hangar when we got the distress call.”

“How did you get here?” you asked.

“We met you halfway. The cruiser was en route for Naboo. Crait was one system over, so we just met in the middle. You had us all types of worried, even the General.”

“Are you hungry?” Layla asked suddenly.

You nodded. You couldn’t even remember the last time you ate. She left the room, presumably to get something from the mess.

“What happened out there?” Fives asked.

“Hunter got hit with something and went crazy. I had to shoot him,” you felt the tears coming back.

“Aw,” Jesse hugged you, “It’s okay, Tiny.”

“It doesn’t feel okay,” you whimpered, letting the tears fall. “He’s my Sergeant. I didn’t know what else to do. I was so worried I had killed him.”

Jesse just hugged you. They all knew about your aversion to guns. You spent your days patching up the aftermath; you never wanted to participate in the violence.

“Where’s Kix?” you asked, rubbing your eyes.

“He’s treating your Sergeant,” Fives chirped.

“And the others?”

“Who? The 99’s?”

“Yeah. They’re pacing a hole in the hangar bay floor,” Jesse chuckled.

“You should have just stayed back on base, Tiny,” Fives nudged you. “Could’ve been curled up with the Commander right now.”

You screeched and slapped him, “I almost died, and you’re making jokes?” Your grin gave you away. It totally wasn’t the racing heart monitor beeping aggressively in the background.

The three of you laughed. It felt so good to have them with you; it made the constant body aches more tolerable. You missed your pack more than anything. You hadn’t ever fully recovered after Ahsoka leaving. None of you did. It felt like a massive hole every time you saw the boys. That’s why you had to go too. You had to get away for a bit. You saw the heartbreak in their eyes, but you knew it’s what you needed. But this, this was starting to make you feel like you belonged again, even without the rowdy togruta that made you all smile.

Layla returned with a steaming platter of whatever food they had in the mess. She settled back down next to you, setting it in your lap.

“Mmm,” you groaned, smelling the braised Shaak roast. You grabbed the spork and dug in. Jesse leaned over, snagging a piece of the meat and slurped it down. Layla scolded him, trying to protect your meal from their grabby hands.

You just giggled and listened to their stories about their most recent trip down to Naboo’s surface with intrigue while you finished off your food. You could have licked the plate and would have if there weren’t people watching.

While you were sipping the last of the blue milk, Layla took your tray from you and set it down on the nightstand. “The Sergeant has been medically cleared. I just wanted to let you know.”

You looked up at her, “Can I go see him?”

The three just looked at you a little uneasy.

“Are you sure?” Layla asked, clearly concerned for your mental well-being. The man did just brutally attack you not even 24 standard hours ago.

You nodded. You were sure. The guilt was eating you alive.

“Okay,” she nodded and helped you stand up. She helped you slip into a pair of loose white sweatpants and tied them around your hips. The boys turned away when she helped peel the gown off of you. You winced, raising your hands over your head, feeling every muscle burn and ache. She gently wrapped a fresh set of bindings over your breasts and lowered a loose white T-shirt, some of the physical therapy patients used in treatment. The material was soft and stretchy. You liked it. It was so much better than the cotton surgical gown.

“You can look,” you said to the boys, and they got up to help with your walk down to the hangar bay. Layla insisted you at least put on a pair of socks against the freezing floor while Fives wrapped your arm around his and Jesse supported your waist as the four of you made a slow journey down to the hangar bay. You practically let them carry you, quickly realizing you should have asked for a high dose pain killer. Hunter really had done a number on you.

“Are you sure about this, Y/N?” Layla asked one last time.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you nodded, “I just need to make sure he’s okay with my own eyes.”

Layla nodded and held the lift door open while you and the boys shuffled out into the hangar bay. Over to the left, you saw the Marauder parked next to a row of assault transports and drop ships.

“Woah,” Layla said, shocked at the sheer size of the military ships. You had forgotten she’s never been aboard a Venator before.

“Impressive, huh?” Fives laughed at her wide eyes.

They stopped when you made it around the corner. Over next to the Marauder was your unit sitting on some ammunition crates talking with the scientist from Crait, Rex, and General Skywalker. You stood there holding onto Fives when Tech noticed you. He perked up, getting Hunter’s attention. The Sergeant whipped his head around, staring at you. The first thing you noticed was the many layers of bandages wrapped around his middle and his shredded top. You could have thrown up seeing what you did to him. He still wore his lower armor, but his top was barely holding on by a few threads.

“Pip!” Wrecker yelled, getting everyone else’s attention.

You let go of Fives and slowly made your way over to the Sergeant. He stood there and lowered his gaze, unable to look you in the eyes. Your heart broke. You could see the guilt eating him up. Skywalker watched the Sergeant carefully in case anything changed suddenly; he wasn’t entirely sure how you were going to react. When you were close enough to him, you broke out into a jog, unable to bear it any longer. Letting out a low whine, you threw yourself at him, wrapping yourself into his chest.

He was shocked, standing there unsure what to do. He had expected you to tell Skywalker to execute him on the spot. Slowly, he lowered his arms and embraced you gently, still afraid to touch you. He didn’t want to hurt you again, no matter how warm your embrace was.

He smelled your tears before he saw them, and his heart shattered.

“I’m sorry,” you cried, pressing yourself further into his chest. You were desperate for his forgiveness; he could smell it all over you. But once again, he was shocked.

“Why are you sorry, Pip?” he looked down at you. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Crosshair grunted from behind them.

“I-I thought I killed you,” you sighed, feeling guilty for hurting him.

He let you go despite your protests and kneeled down in front of you. "I’m the one who is sorry, adi’ka," he said earnestly, now seeing all the damage he caused: bruises in the shape of his hands on your neck and arms. The smell emanating from him made you cry even more, and he felt terrible, the poor alpha. You knelt down with him and pressed yourself into him again, trying to comfort him. "Look what I did to you," his voice choked with emotion.

He was so upset and horrified. "You should hate me right now," he said.

"It wasn’t you, Sarge," you croaked out, trying to coax him into embracing you again. "And I hurt you. I could have— I-I—" You stuttered, looking at the side you put a bullet through, biting your lip until it bled. He let go of any restraint and wrapped his arms around you, tucking your head into his neck.

"I’m so sorry, adi’ka," he whispered, petting down your hair and holding you close.

The others watched the interaction in silence. Even the scientist, who was just getting to know these people, observed with curiosity, trying to understand your dynamic with these defective alpha clones.

"But next time," he pulled back, making you look him in the eyes, "you put that bullet in my head, or any alpha that ever hurts you. Do you understand?"

You just looked up at him, chewing on your lip, and gave him a little nod. He wiped your tears with his thumb and pulled you back into him. "You’re lucky, pip. It’s hard to stop an alpha like that. You’re a very strong omega."

You sat there shaking and bonding back with your sergeant, giving him the same comfort you needed. The others slowly returned to their conversation, but you two remained on the floor, sitting near one another. You kept yourself wrapped around his arm while he petted your damaged wrist, trying to soothe away the bruises.

"What possessed your team to go to Crait?" Skywalker questioned the scientist. She adjusted the thermal blanket around herself, appearing cleaner than before. She must have been able to shower and run a comb through her hair. It was a stark difference from when Wrecker had brought her on board the Marauder.

"We were informed that separatist forces were opening mining operations on Crait. We were instructed to figure out what they were looking for," she said. "When we realized the dangers of the compounds, it was already too late. My only speculation was that they figured out that the spice from Crait was different and it could affect your designations so drastically."

"What happened to your team?" Rex asked.

"I had a team of omegas," she said, looking at you. "They died from extreme heat symptoms. Their systems just gave out."

"And that explains what happened to Hunter?" Tech asked, noting everything down on his datapad.

"I believe so," she said, looking to the sergeant who protectively surrounded you. "It has all the normal symptoms of a spice high, but for the designations, it seems to elicit a different response. Omegas go into an incurable heat, and alphas become… something else."

You shivered, making Hunter tighten his hold.

"Why are the separatists collecting this spice?" Crosshair’s silvery voice cut in.

"I don’t have any confirmation on my theory, but—" She looked around at everyone present. "You have an entire army of Alphas. I can only imagine what would happen when they’re exposed on the battlefields… You’d all go mad."

"Thousands of rutting alphas in close proximity," Rex sighed. "They’d turn on one another."

She nodded.

General Skywalker immediately left to make a call with the council to report the findings. Hunter stood up, pulling you up with him before lifting you and setting you on one of the ammo crates. His alpha instincts were itching, desperate to care for you. He grabbed a spare blanket from under Tech and wrapped it around you before tucking you into a little cocoon.

Tech and the others watched in amusement, seeing their leader fuss about how wrapped up you were in the wool fabric.

You just smiled and let him get it out of his system, knowing he couldn’t help it. You both went through such a trauma. It was all part of the reconciliation ritual between an alpha and omega. You got a little emotional, realizing he may even view you as a pack member with how he’s acting. You’d make sure to ask him later on.

Then Layla dumped a metaphorical ice bucket on the two of you. "There’s something else I have to tell you, Y/N," she said, stepping forward, careful not to get in Hunter’s way.

"Hmm?" you asked, starting to feel a little giddy with all the attention.

"I-I…" Her face betrayed her soft-spoken nurse voice. She looked anxious. "I wasn’t able to give you a replacement implant… neither of you."

Hunter stopped what he was doing and looked at the medic.

She continued nervously, "We tested your hormones and found alpha pheromones in your bloodstream. It’s sending you into a breakout heat. We can’t give you another implant until you do."

Hunter suddenly lifted his hands from you and stepped back, realizing what he was doing. The two of you didn’t have effective suppressants and were acting like a bonding pair. It was your scent driving him to do all of this. He flashed back to him licking at your wounds on the ship. He could shoot himself at this very moment; the guilt was setting in again.

He looked at the medic. "What does that mean?"

You were a little annoyed he wasn’t touching you anymore, but you looked to your friend. "I have to have a heat?" You could cry.

She nodded, still keeping her distance from the alpha, not wanting to be perceived as a threat. "I was going to wait a bit and hope you’d have more time, but you’re both displaying traits that have me a little concerned."

"Well then we’ll have to keep them separate," Fives pointed out.

Hunter made a low growl.

Layla made a face as Hunter proved her point. Rex just crossed his arms and walked forward. "We can’t have an omega in heat on this ship. We have suppressors for a reason. She’ll force everyone into a rut, and then it would be a disaster around here.”

Layla also didn’t like the idea of being trapped on a ship full of horny alphas.

“So then what do we do?” Wrecker asked.

Hunter moved to get closer to you again, but Crosshair tutted, flipping the firepuncher to stun. The sergeant stopped and looked at his brother challengingly.

“You take her down to Naboo,” Crosshair said, keeping his weapon trained on his brother. “Leave her at a heat center and put Hunter back on his suppressors.”

You whined, not liking that idea either.

“Absolutely not,” Hunter and the other 501st boys objected.

“You don’t have a choice,” Crosshair drawled. “She’s slipping quickly, and there’s no other solution. I can smell her through the suppressants.”

“Crosshair would be correct,” Tech agreed. “I see there are five locations just in Theed. And while I acknowledge that heat centers are not ideal places, there is no one here equipped to assist Y/N without mating with her. Which we also know is not an option.”

You gulped when they all looked at you. Suddenly, you were starting to feel warm, knowing Crosshair was correct. You realized you didn’t have much time.

“I’ll take her,” Layla offered, knowing Hunter would put up the least resistance with her.

“You need a pilot,” Echo stood up. “I’ll come with. We’ll keep an eye on her,” he said to Hunter, trying to convince him to stand down.

Hunter’s scent was getting stronger by the second, and they knew you wouldn’t budge without his direct consent.

“Vod,” Crosshair urged.

Hunter looked at you with soft eyes. “Is that what you want, adi’ka?”

You tightened the blanket around yourself. “They’re right. I don’t have a choice,” your voice was meek.

He knew you were scared; he could hear your heart fluttering and your anxiety filled his nose.

He begrudgingly stepped to the side, allowing you to slide off the crate and limp over to Layla. She gave a quick goodbye before helping you over to one of the smaller transports. Rex gave the clearance while the other boys ran to fetch your clothes and shoes.

Crosshair kept his rifle aimed at Hunter while he fought all of his instincts to board the transport with you.

“It’s better this way,” Crosshair offered his consolation.

Hunter was devastated watching the transport leave the hangar bay and make a direct line to Theed.

“Alright, buddy, open up,” Wrecker tossed the bottle of suppressors at Hunter, who caught it and groaned before popping two in his mouth with a growl.

The heat center was nicer than you imagined. Everything in Naboo was actually so beautiful. You haven’t even been but you’d heard stories from some of the troopers. The whole planet was stunning, but the care put into all of their buildings was hypnotizing.

You stared up at the art inside the dome ceiling while Layla and Echo checked you into the system. A protocol droid waddled up to you taking your small amount of belongings before walking you to your designated suite. You waved to Layla and Echo before disappearing down the stone hallway. Everything was starting to get foggy in your mind. You couldn’t even remember what Layla had said to you before she left.

You were a little nervous. You had two years of suppressants to work off. You knew this was going to be a grueling week.

“Here you go Mistress Y/N” The 3PO- Protocol droid opened the door for you, “This will be your home for the week.”

You stepped inside smelling the sterile cleaning supplies inside the lush room. There was an area with a holoscreen, a small living room, a kitchen, bedroom, and full bath. This was way better than any place on Coruscant. You looked around getting familiar with the space.

“Food will be delivered three times a day, but the door will remain locked until you’ve been cleared. It’s a safety precaution for the other guests.” The droid rattled on setting your things down on the dresser top.

“There will be round the clock medical care if needed. If you need anything please let us know.” It finished its routine before scuttling back to the door and closing it behind it. You heard the locks slide into place and settled in.

It didn’t take long at all for the warmth to shoot up through your body again. You changed back into the comfier therapy clothes you had in the hangar bay before settling onto the couch to turn on the holonet. You preened at the smell of Hunter still lingering on your clothes. You had rubbed up against him leaving his smokey scent all over the soft fabric. You picked up the front of your shirt and brought it to your nose inhaling the scent.

Shit. You didn’t remember it feeling like this. The warmth became scalding forcing you up onto your feet. You made a beeline for the bathroom turning on the fresher to cold. You stripped out of your clothes and stepped into the glass shower letting the cold water drench you.

You sighed feeling the relief. That was then the slick started to produce between your legs. You whined trying to wash it away. When you were satisfied with being somewhat clean. You shut the water off and grabbed a towel wrapping it around yourself.

A wave of cramps hit you making you yelp and double over.

“Kriff.” You shouted feeling like you’d been hit by a bantha. What the hell did you sign up for.

Crawling over to the bed you brought the clothing with you feeling the urge to start forming a nest. The cramping began to ebb the more you leaned into instinct. You rearranged the pillows to surround you along with the comforter and sheets. You placed the scented clothing right up against your nose obsessively breathing it in like oxygen.

You groaned feeling more cramps churning your insides. You reached down between your legs feeling the wetness spreading everywhere. You ran your fingers through your folds before settling on your clit. Desperate for some relief you began circling the nerves making yourself twitch. Your orgasm came quickly but it barely took the edge off. You were craving more. You needed to be filled and stretched. You craved a rough fucking. You tried again but once again it didn’t do much. You wailed and tossed and turned praying for relief. You really had wished you stayed with the Commander or let the Venator to fall into madness because right now you needed an Alpha. A big, strong, powerful alpha.

You wanted the Sargent…

~~~

When Layla came to collect you eight days later, she said you looked like a drowned rat.

The cleaning droids had come and gone, leaving the place sterile once again. They had washed your clothes, repaired your uniform, and shined your boots, leaving them outside the bedroom in a neat pile.

You felt yourself come back to yourself on the sixth day, but you weren’t totally back to normal. The box of toys left for your convenience had been thoroughly dirtied, along with all of the soft fabrics in your nest. You had even shredded the clothing scented by Hunter on one particularly bad night. The droids had pried the ripped-up fabric out of your pathetic grip and disposed of it, insisting it was a safety hazard, whatever that meant. On the seventh day, a medical droid determined you were out of the thick of it. The droid had also informed you that your bruises had healed entirely.

You were starving and dehydrated. The droids had left food, but you didn’t care one bit during the week. You couldn’t snap out of the frenzy long enough to eat anything anyway. Usually, an alpha has to command you to eat, and without that, you were lost to the madness of the heat.

Layla had helped brush your hair after your final bath. You had scrubbed down in scent-neutralizing soaps before slipping into the repaired Republic uniform. She put your hair in a simple braid, trying to keep the knots out. You munched down on the lunch served to you and happily drank the water, making your friend happy. You popped two bacta pills for the soreness and called it a mission complete.

When it was officially time to go, you thanked the droids before stepping outside with Layla.

“I’m almost scared to ask,” she sighed, interlocking your arms.

“It was horrible,” you shook your head, “Like the place was nice, but it’s been so long I almost forgot.”

She hummed, “That’s why you gotta find a hot alpha.”

“Well, I almost had one, but everyone tore us apart,” you nudged her playfully.

She gasped, “You’re a little-”

“What?” you laughed, “You said it first.”

“He looked like he was going to bend you over that container before I said something,” she pinched you and you squealed.

“Maker help us,” you smiled, noticing Echo waiting awkwardly in the lobby.

“I wonder what he’s like,” she whispered before Echo could hear. You just gave her a playful look. You had a feeling Hunter was a more dominant Alpha. He was a sergeant, after all. But especially since you’ve been on the receiving end of his full strength, you know he could manhandle you like you weighed nothing.

“I had a whole week to think about it,” you thought about how you had run your voice hoarse crying out for your sergeant. The omega in you had nearly snapped from him not being present. The scent on your clothes acted as a cruel torture.

“Hi Tiny,” Echo smiled sweetly. You skipped forward and hugged him.

“Miss me Echo?” you beamed.

“Always Tiny,” he ruffled your head, “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I think so,” you laughed awkwardly, “Do I smell?”

“No, you’re all clear,” he took your shoulders in his grip and led you out of the building towards the waiting transport.

“Yay,” you were excited to get back to the Venator. You were hoping Anakin would let your unit stay until you received a new mission. You missed having so much personal space.

The ride back to the Venator was short from the surface of Naboo. Echo pulled into the hangar bay and set the transport down softly. You suddenly got a little nervous to face your unit. Not saying what you went through this past week was shameful by any means, it was just a bit awkward that they knew what had just happened. They knew way too much.

“I want to get your new implant in if that’s alright with you, Y/N,” Layla said, stepping off the ship with you. You nodded and opted to follow her out of the hangar bay and into the medical wing.

“I’m heading back to Coruscant now that I know you’re okay. Fives and the boys said that General Kenobi was supposed to be arriving soon with his unit. I just wanted to let you know. I think I’m heading out tonight after dinner.”

“Aw, okay,” you sighed, wishing you had some more time with your friend, “How was living on a Venator for a week?” you nudged her.

She smiled, “I don’t know how you think straight with so many hot alphas running around.” The troopers posted at the doorways perked up.

“It was weird at first, but most of them are alright,” you smiled, “Especially Rex’s boys. They’re very sweet.”

“Sweet?” her tone shifted to something sultry, “I wanna ride that captain.”

Multiple troopers walking by whipped their heads around to stare at your friend as you passed. You turned red and ducked your head laughing.

“Layla!” you chastised.

She just smirked, “I got a thing for blondes.”

“Oh my god.”

“…and authority.”

“Layla!” you screeched, turning down towards the medical wing.

“Have you seen the way he holds that gun?” she bit her lip, “Ugh, being an omega around all these soldiers is really difficult.”

“I’m going to throw you into a cold shower,” you pleaded for her to stop.

She loved making you loosen up and gossip with her. You had seen her during your trainee days and knew she was a little wild omega. The way she had those alphas in the club wrapped around her manicured finger always kept you entertained.

“I saw him out of the armor,” she mused, “Right after training. Mmm. I almost fell to my-.”

You rounded the corner to the medical exam room, finding said Captain and his boys waiting in the lobby, helmets in hand. They all turned to face the two of you, making you stop in your tracks and snap your mouth shut.

“Oh, hi Captain,” Layla’s voice was saccharine as she gave him a little wave and a once-over.

You giggled, walking forward through the crowd stifling both of your laughs.

“Layla,” he gave her a proper nod, “Tiny, you’re back?”

You panicked, “Yes, sir,” it came out more flustered than you had wished.

Rex raised a brow.

The boys watched you two disappear behind the divider curtains. You turned to her and silently made a funny face at her which she returned, “Yes, sir?” she mimicked silently before grabbing her injector kit.

“What was that all about?” Kix asked, looking up from his datapad.

You didn’t miss the way some of the boys tried to silently laugh at the very awkward interaction.

“Nothing, Kix,” you smirked.

Layla bit her lip, “Up,” she patted the table.

You jumped up, moving your collar out of the way. She sterilized the injection site before placing the mechanism up to your skin. As Layla finished administering the implant, she couldn't resist adding a playful jab.

"Try to keep this one inside you this time," she quipped, her tone laden with mischief.

Kix, caught off guard, choked on his own breath, nearly dropping his datapad in surprise. His eyes widened as he struggled to compose himself, realizing the unintended innuendo.

Tiny yelped at Layla's crude joke, a mix of embarrassment and amusement coloring her cheeks. She shot a quick glance at Kix, who was now sporting a flustered expression, his cheeks flushed..

More snickering erupted from behind the privacy curtain, where the other troopers couldn't contain their amusement at the exchange.

"I'll try my best," Tiny replied, her voice tinged with laughter, trying to diffuse the tension. But the mischievous glint in Layla's eyes hinted that she was far from finished.

Before Kix could recover from his embarrassment, Layla leaned in conspiratorially, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You know, Kix, I've heard suppressant injections can be quite stimulating."

Kix's eyes widened even further, if that were possible, as he struggled to find a response, his mind clearly racing to keep up with Layla's playfulness. She bent over giving him a good look up her uniform skirt when she grabbed the bin of implant cartridges.

Tiny, trying to contain her laughter, shot Layla a warning look, silently pleading for her to stop before things got even more awkward. But Layla, clearly enjoying herself, wasn't about to let up.

"Just be careful not to get too excited," Layla added with a mischievous grin, before finally pushing Tiny out of the exam room.

As they emerged from behind the curtains, Tiny couldn't help but blush furiously, knowing that the entire 501st garrison had likely overheard the entire exchange. But Layla seemed unfazed, her playful demeanor still intact as she greeted the troopers with a sly smile.

The sight of Kix, still visibly flustered, only added to the amusement of the moment, as the troopers exchanged knowing glances and suppressed giggles. Just as you passed through the curtains, she gave you a sharp slap on the ass and a wink before turning back to her injector. Your cheeks burned hot pink as most of the 501st garrison looked at you with varying smirks.

You gasped and covered your mouth, refusing to look Rex or anyone in the eye before scurrying out of the lobby. You could feel everyone’s eyes glaring into the back of your head. I’m going to kill Layla.

“Alright, who’s here for a replacement?” you heard Layla’s teasing voice behind you. Then a symphony of troopers were suddenly vying for her attention, just begging to go first.

With a sigh, you’d had your fun, you realized you needed to show face with at least one member of your unit so they knew you were still alive.

Even though you had absolutely no clue where they could be. If it was up to Wrecker, they’d be in the mess. If it was Tech, they’d be in the engine room, probably causing curiosity-based chaos. Crosshair would be in the armory, and Hunter? He’d probably be in the barracks somewhere. You decided you weren’t in the mood for guessing and just pulled out your com device, “Hey, is anyone there?” you asked.

You waited a few seconds before Wrecker answered, “Pip is that you? Are you back?” he sounded happy.

“Yeah, Wrek, where are you guys?”

“We're in the barracks,” Tech replied.

“Okay, I’m coming,” you turned around, walking in the other direction.

The walk to the barracks was short. A couple of nice troopers pointed you in the right direction, and before you realized, you were there. The massive blast door was hard to miss. The door slid open, revealing your unit lying around in various bunks. Tech sat, legs crossed, leaning against the headboard of a lower bunk, messing with the electronics of his helmet, while Crosshair took the top. He was tossing and catching what looked like a silver ball into the air while swinging his long leg off the side in front of Tech’s face. Wrecker was in the center of the room, chowing down on a ration bar, while Hunter and Echo sat facing one another in the middle of a conversation.

“Pip!” Wrecker put down his ration bar and ran over to you. “Hi, Wrek, ahh!” you screamed as the big guy wrapped his behemoth arms around you and lifted you off the ground like a little tooka cat.

“Wrecker, put her down,” Hunter chastised.

“Ugh, fine,” he settled you back down gently before stepping back and grinning down at you, “I missed Pip. The pack wasn’t the same without you.” Your heart fluttered at the thought that he saw you as pack.

“I missed you too, Wrecker,” you smiled.

“How was the heat center?” Tech asked, looking up from his tools.

You shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed, but you had to clear the bantha in the room. You knew they had to be curious. “Ehh,” you bit your lip tilting you palm side to side, “It was far better than any place on Coruscant but nothing I’d like to repeat anytime soon.”

“It had good reviews on the holonet,” Tech replied.

You giggled. Of course, he studied the reviews.

“You look thin,” Crosshair pointed out, displeased, “Did they even feed you?”

“Thanks, Cross,” your mood soured, feeling a little self-conscious, “And yes, they gave me food.”

He snarked and went back to tossing his toy around in the air.

“I’m shocked the GAR didn’t send you guys on a mission somewhere while I was gone,” you said, realizing how bored they appeared. Had they really been here the whole time?

“Command heard about what happened. I think they felt bad and decided to give us a small break until you got back,” Hunter said sympathetically, standing up from his bunk.

You just nodded. He looked at you strangely. You were hoping he didn’t still feel guilty.

“And,” he shifted to one side, looking uncomfortable, “They want to know if you desire a unit transfer after everything that’s happened…” he looked deflated.

Wrecker whined from behind you clearly upset with that possibility. You looked at him and the others, realizing how sad they looked at Hunters news.

“A transfer?” you clarified.

Hunter nodded his head.

“They want to know if you don’t feel comfortable,” Echo said calmly.

You just stood there a little in shock.

“We’d understand if that was the case, Y/N,” Hunter said, trying to be the good sergeant. You gave it a moment of thought before turning to look at Wrecker, who looked dejected.

“No.”

“No?” Hunter repeated, sounding relieved.

“No,” you crossed your arms, “I’m not leaving… Do you want me to leave?”

Hunter shifted a little, “I don’t want you making a decision based on our feelings. We’ll be okay if that’s what you want.”

“You’re my pa-…you’re my squad,” you stood your ground, feeling a little insecure. You didn’t miss the way Crosshair stopped for a moment at your slip up. Did they not want to work with you now? Did you and Hunter mess up the dynamic? You couldn’t smell it, but you were certain Hunter could pick up on your stress.

“Pip is staying!” Wrecker was jovial. He was pumping his fists in the air like a little kid.

“I’m relieved to hear you are still wanting to work with us, Y/N,” Tech looked at you.

Echo got up and gave you a hug, “I was worried I was going to be losing my favorite stakeout buddy.”

You hugged him back, “I’m not going anywhere as long as you’ll all have me.”

They just smiled and started to settle back in.

“So what do we do now?” Crosshair asked. Clearly, none of them have ever been trapped on a Venator for long periods of time with nothing to do.

“We wait for orders,” Hunter said, sitting back on his bunk.

You slipped off your boots and curled up on the bunk next to theirs. You had a week of sleep to catch up on, and frankly, you were just excited to have a proper mattress to sleep on and you could move on from this horribly awkward situation.

You were positive the missions would come rolling in soon. You guys were the best after all.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

I loved writing the Layla scenes so much. I'm hoping now that we have a baseline for the story I'll finally be bale to start working on Y/N's relationship with the bad batch.

To join the tag list comment down below!

@substantial-exposure

#abo #badbatch #abobadbatch #polybadbatch #clonewars #rex #hunter #tech #wrecker #crosshair #echo #anakin #smut #omega #heat #starwars

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assistantcultleader · 2 months ago

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꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷Silly Goofy Biography꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

All the info you'll need before interacting with this side blog! X3

Hiiiii, I'm Zim! (my friends actually named me that), I'm a silly goofy IZ fan :3

Please be aware that this blog is based directly on headcanons, as well as my person AU (which will be a fanfic at some point!), so Number 2 is pretty OOC, and that is rather intentional. Not only that, but her lore is completely different.

The owner of this blog is an adult (20-years-old as of this post). I quite frequently post high and/or drunk and may post somewhat suggestive things either as a joke, or to vent my hypersexuality. Note that I tend to portray Number 2 as hypersexual in the first place. So please, take that with a grain of salt.

My OOC pronouns are he/any, though I tend to use the same pronouns as the character I'm portraying.

I have a tendency to vent trauma and recovery a lot in roleplay posts as therapy. With that said, not all angst will actually be based on my trauma. A lot of it is just based on the w.i.p. fanfiction I mentioned (i.e. her coming from a dysfunctional family).

If there is anything mentioned in a post I think may be too heavy of a topic, or that a minor should not read, I will use heavy cw's and the read more option so that it is optional to view.

I ship Za2R, and will reflect that heavily in my posts, however I am willing to portray Za2F if someone with a Zib account is uncomfortable. Please note that both Zib and Number 2 are legal adults in my AU, Zib is 19, and Number 2 has just turned 21. I will also use cw's when posting about Za2R in case anyone is uncomfortable with the ship.

As for my portrayal of 2 in my AU, I'm sure you've noticed me refer to her with she/her pronouns, and that's because she is actually transfeminine!

She was actually an adult when she went to earth, unlike our Zim (who was 14 in my AU), and instead of highschool attended an elite college. She also lived in Portland, Oregan instead of Ontario, Canada.

Because I headcanon that Irkens aging changed based on the orbit and rotation of the planet they live on at the time, her aging fully stopped when she was in the Zimvoid, as I like to think it was lost in orbit. This is also the thing that stopped 2K from dying due to aging backwards.

She doesn't actually like destruction as much as our Zim, after getting the brainwashing out of her system, she decided to live s normal human life. She and Zib wound up meeting up in our Zim's timeline and eventually got married (as they knew each other for a very long time in the past, like over 10 years, they just both didn't age because Zib is also part Irken).

Unlike our Zim, she was not born from a tube, she actually has parents and a biological brother. Unfortunately, her family was not the best to her. However her brother would give his life for her.

Her SIR Unit is named CIR (pronounced the same as SIR), the C standing for Chinchilla! However, he named himself Canchita, based on how Tak's SIR is named Mimi! He's pretty similar to GIR, but eats Peruvian food instead of Mexican food! Despite this, his favorite food is Ice Cream. Canchita was rebuilt after she returned to her timeline, with all of his memories up until the bermuda's quadrangle incident.

#invader zim #zim number 2 #roleplay blog #side blog #pinned post #iz au #based on a fanfic

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corvuserpens · 3 months ago

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A Girl, An Ocean {A Black Sails Fanfic} - Ch. 4

Fandom: Black Sails Rating: Teen and up audiences Warnings: Displays of misogyny, gendered slurs Category: Action adventure with romance Characters: Billy Bones, Hal Gates, De Groot, Jean DuBois, OC, NPCs (I don't know how else to name any extra OCs I come up with for plot purposes lmao) Relationships: Billy Bones/OC, Hal Gates/OC (paternal), Jean duBois/OC (bffs) Additional tags: Original character-centric, first person POV, canon character x original character romance, self-discovery journey, kinda alternative prequel to canon, canon compliant, slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, tooth-rotting sweetness, cute but also sexy, angst galore, found family, Hal Gates has two children now, canon typical violence Series: Part One of Six of A Girl, An Ocean Chapters: 4/13 Summary: Mr. Folsom continues to be a prick, so Constance teaches him a lesson about what happens when you disrespect her. Much swearing follows.

Author's note: Trying to post these weekly while doing my Master's project/thesis is HARD but right now this fic is the only thing keeping me sane. Next chapter will be a bit more exciting 😉

Chapter iv.

The following day didn't pan out much better than the previous. Mr. De Groot remained patient as he taught me, and even let me steer the helm for a few minutes so I could gain a feel for it. The wheel was much heavier than I had anticipated, difficult to turn, and the coxswain explained it was due to a combination between the influence of the currents on the rudder and the steering tiller that connected it to the helm. He called on Tanner, his apprentice, to take over so he could take me below decks to show me. Before returning to the surface we passed by the great cabin, where all the maps, logs and navigation instruments were kept when not in use.

There, we found a man around my age with large green eyes behind a pair of wiry spectacles hunched over a ledger, quill flying over the page he was working on. He paused momentarily to look up and see who it was, then put the feather in its ink well to stand up.

"Mr. Dufresne, good morning." De Groot encouraged me forward with his hand. "I don't believe you've been introduced to our newest recruit, yet?"

"I have not." The man named Dufresne walked around the desk to shake my hand. "Hello. Constance, is that right?" "Indeed," I replied with a cordial smile which he didn't bother returning. "A pleasure, welcome aboard." At least he had manners, so I considered myself satisfied. "Thank you, sir." "Oh, please, you may do away with the "sir"." He shook his hands with a blush. "I only have a year of seniority over you. Dufresne is fine." De Groot gave his shoulder a pat. "He is our purser. Any complaints you may have with your wage or if you need access to the ship's funds, he's the man you come talk to." "And if you'll forgive me, I have much work to do. So, with your permission..." "Of course, of course." De Groot let him return to his post with the ledgers. "We won't disturb you long, I just want to show Constance some of our charts." "Take your time." Dufresne adjusted his glasses and took up the quill once more. Meanwhile, De Groot reached into a mahogany drawer and pulled out old, stained charts, which he laid out with care on the second, smaller desk to the side. I hadn't noticed before, but the cabin was furnished with shelves stocked with countless books, like a compact library. Clearly, Flint was highly literate. I wondered what kind of books he enjoyed and if anyone in the crew could have access to them. Not that I would be having much time to read in the following months.

The map De Groot chose for me was a very old, stained map of the west coast of England, complete with the Isle of Man and surrounding islands, plus a piece of the eastern Irish coast. He figured I would be more familiar with that part of the world than the Bahamas. I was allowed to take it with me to study for a few days. The goal was to charter a course from England to Ireland, with Bristol as a starting point.

Afterwards, it was back to knot lessons with Mr. Folsom. His mood had not improved over night, sadly. Before teaching me the two remaining knots I had to learn, the zeppelin and bowline, he made me repeat the other three to make sure I had gotten it through my skull. The stopper and the clove hitch I managed with ease, but the butterfly continued to be a source of endless frustration. I still hadn't figured out how to make it properly. Folsom didn't bother showing me how to do it again; he forged ahead to the other two. The zeppelin, meant to tie two rope ends together, wasn't so bad. He explained that there was a similar knot, the square knot, that did the same job, but was far less secure. He showed me the two knots for comparison and insisted I learned the zeppelin and use it above the square knot.

But the bowline... God in heaven, the bowline. It was a perfectly fine knot, as far as they go. It was the knot to use when you wanted to tie off a launch, a dinghy or anything you wanted so it wouldn't drift away. He made it look so easy to tie off, but when I tried, all I did was tangle myself in the rope. After the first three attempts, Folsom waved me off, told me to practice that and the butterfly, and scurried up the shrouds once again.

I was in in the middle of my nineteenth try when Mr. Gates approached me. In his hand, he held a thin document tied off with a string.

"There you are," he said as a greeting. "Got something here for you to read and sign."

I set my practice rope aside to take a look. My brow tensed into a divot. "What is this, Mr. Gates?"

"The Articles of the Walrus," he explained. "Every ship has them, though they vary from one to the other. Think of it as an employment contract. This lists the set of duties you are obligated to as a member of the crew, as well as your rights. I would encourage you to read them over with care, then come see me to sign them. We'll find someone to serve as a witness, should legal liabilities arise, and once your name is set in them, you will officially be a part of this band of bandits." He smiled at me, eyebrows arched. "Sound good?"

I let my fingers brush over the words, heart beating fast with excitement and anticipation. I returned Gates' smile with my own, forgetting about my struggles with the ropes for a minute. "Aye, it does."

The quartermaster gave me a tap on the arm, satisfied. "Take your time with them, alright? You don't have to sign right away or even today. If you have any questions, come and find me."

"Will do, Mr. Gates. Thank you."

He offered a little bow and was off. Meanwhile, I took the opportunity to take a quick break from my lessons to at least read the first page (there were three of them in total).

Like Gates had said, it was a list of rules to be adhered to while on the ship, and nothing I hadn't expected already: loyalty to the captain and crew, to perform my various duties well, monetary compensation and access to healthcare should I suffer any injuries while on the job and even severance pay in case I decided to leave or circumstances forced my departure. Truthfully, I was flabbergast at such conditions. My cousin in the army complained copiously about the poor wages and the lack of protections should the worst come to pass. This was... surprisingly fair. Had I any way to contact him, I might have counseled him to become a pirate instead. I smiled at the thought of his face, receiving such a letter.

But the most surprising detail of the Articles were the wages. I had to rub my eyes to make sure they were working properly and looked again. How much you got paid depended on the haul wielded by a potential prize and its wealth was to be equally distributed by all members of the crew. No exceptions. Not for the quartermaster nor the first mate, not for the boatswain or even the captain. Aboard the Walrus, all men worked equally, so they shared equally. It was remarkable.

A sharp whistle from above startled me. It was Folsom, hanging from the larboard main sail yard tip, glaring at me.

"Have you got the fucking knots done yet?!" He bellowed.

In a hurry, skin going damp with sweat as I stashed the Articles somewhere safe from the wind, I returned to my practice. I did wish the men wouldn't swear quite so much...

One hour later, I had finally figured out the butterfly, having repeated it correctly five times in a row. The bowline continued to elude me, however. When the lunch bell tolled, Folsom came back down to see my progress. I pursed my lips and dipped my chin while he looked over my knots. He stared at me with malice, causing a chill to run down my spine.

"Took your time, but you finally got it, eh?" He smoothed his tongue over a gap where a tooth used to be. "Don't think I forgot my promise to take you up to the yards. We need to verify if you've learned, right? I hope so, for the crew's sake. Would be awful if someone got hurt due to your lack of talent, wouldn't it?"

I stared at him horrified, chest locking up, making it hard to breathe. He had to be joking. Please be joking, please say you're just hazing me and you're not actually serious.

But all he did was laugh in my face and turn his back on me to follow the others to the mess hall. I remained, feet bolted to my spot and eyes up on the sails as if they were ghosts swaying in the wind.

***

While everyone was having lunch, I sat cross legged on my hammock with the Articles, trying to keep my mind away from my afternoon test. I couldn't focus on the words, however. Before I knew it, I was reading the same sentence time and again without assimilating a single thing.

Maybe I should take it up with Gates. Surely he wouldn't allow Folsom to let me take on such great responsibility so early in my career. If the crew's general safety and the ship's capacity was at risk for it, the quartermaster should be notified and it wouldn't count as my seeking favoritism, would it? I was just doing my job.

Oh God, but what if that spelled trouble for Folsom? He would know I had been the one to rat him out and then my life would really become hell. Plus, he would tell the rest of the crew I was a snitch and I would be kicked out before the ink dried on the Articles. On the other hand, if the rigger was being serious about his test and someone did get hurt (or, heaven forbid, got killed), they wouldn't blame Folsom for it. They would blame me, the novice who didn't learn properly, the girl who had no business being on a pirate ship.

No matter which way I looked at it, I was, for lack of a more suitable term, pretty much fucked. Even just thinking the profanity made me blush and silently beg forgiveness.

Jean found me slumped over the Articles. "Salut! I didn't see you at lunch." He leaned over to get a proper look at me, eyebrows knit together with concern. "What's with that face? Did something happen?"

I sighed and figured he was probably the only person to whom it was safe to talk about my dilemma. Hopefully he could assure me that Folsom wouldn't go through with it, that he was all throat and it was meant to scare me, nothing more.

Boy, was I wrong.

When I finished telling him everything, he had a sour look on his face. "Damn, what an asshole. Oh, uh, sorry." He grinned sheepishly and shrugged when I winced. "You get used to it, I mean... ever heard the phrase "swearing like a sailor?" Anyway, that wasn't at all what it was like with me and Will Robins. No matter how many times we got it wrong, he would accompany us step-by-step and tell us exactly where we were making the mistake. We learned all the knots in a couple of days. And he didn't take us up to the yards but a week from our initiation."

My chest deflated with a long, despairing breath. "Do you really think he's gonna make me mess up on purpose?"

"Jesus Christ, I hope not. Someone could get seriously hurt. And Gates would have his head." He paused and took a minute to think. "Maybe you should tell him about this."

"I can't," I bemoaned. "Folsom would know it was me, and then what? If the whole crew finds out I talked to Gates, they will have grounds to vote me out and he won't have a choice but to accept it or risk mutiny."

"Tell Billy, then." He suggested. "He would get him in line and make sure no one found out about your involvement. Constance, you can't get on the yards without knowing the proper knots and how to tie them effectively, it's dangerous."

I only had one option, then. It wouldn't be pretty, and it would be risky to my reputation all the same, but at least I would be alone in bearing the brunt of the consequences. No one needed to get hurt but me.

With a deep, uneven breath to rein in the anxiety gnawing at my stomach, I put the Articles aside and hopped off my hammock. "Don't worry, Jean. That's not gonna happen. Thank you for your advice. I will take it into consideration." And I walked past him to face my destiny, whatever it might be.

Back on the main deck, I marched up to Folsom at the starboard shroud. He was talking to two other riggers, whose names I didn't know. They were laughing about something. When one of them saw me coming, he tapped Folsom's shoulder and pointed. Folsom twisted around and smirked, arms crossed. "I was starting to think you had bolted. Let's get this over with then, shall we? Come on." He grabbed onto the shroud line and jumped onto the bulwark.

I squared my shoulders and planted my feet firm on the floor boards. "No."

Folsom froze just as he had set a foot on the rat lines. His cold gray eyes narrowed at me. "What?"

"This is dangerous and you know it. I haven't had the time to properly learn the knots! If I go up there with you, it's a recipe for disaster." My voice started out shaky and insecure, but as I progressed, it stabilized and grew more firm. "I won't risk my life or the crew's for your sick joke and your prejudice."

That mean little smirk returned to his toothless mouth. I hated how victorious he looked. It made me want to push him overboard. "I taught you the fucking knots. If you didn't learn them right, then maybe you're just not cut out for this. It's not your fault. Women just don't belong in ships, s'all."

A blinding rage set fire to my innards, for once making my face flare up not with shame, but with rage. "Like hell you taught me the knots. If you had bothered teaching me like you did with Jean and Will maybe I might have learned already, but you didn't!"

By then, our argument had garnered a small crowd which formed a circle around us. I could feel their stare on me, and it unnerved me, but I kept my eyes on Folsom and focused on my point.

"You saw I was struggling and didn't help. You saw me practice for hours on end, going in circles, and couldn't care less, and now you want me to go up the yards with you? It's not my fault you're such a f... F... a FUCKING prick of a teacher!"

I had to shout the swear, or else it wouldn't have come out. The crowd burst into laughter, some of them bending over, clutching to their sides, finding my puritanical hiccup hilarious. But not Folsom.

He dropped onto the deck with a stomp akin to a gun shot, face twisted with anger, murder in his eyes. He advanced toward me and hovered, nose inches from mine, but no matter how intimidated I felt, I refused to move. Maybe I shuddered a little, but that was it.

"What the fuck did you say to me?" He growled.

Despite the fear pumping in my veins and how dry my mouth was, I forced a smile on my lips and seized the opportunity. "If you didn't hear me properly the first time, then maybe you're not as smart as you think you are."

A long chorus of "uuuuu" filled the deck. Folsom raised his hand, making me shrink back in preparation for the blow. "You fucking cunt--!"

"That's enough, Folsom!"

The rigger froze, looked to the side. As I slowly lowered my arms, I followed his gaze: Mr. Gates was bulldozing his way through the crowd, shoving aside anyone who didn't move out of his way in time. His cheeks were red with anger, mouth set on a stern line beneath his mustache. Jean trailed after him, his face a mask of pure anxiety. I hadn't noticed him among the others, but he must have been there and ran to fetch the quartermaster when the argument started escalating.

Gates stopped between Folsom and I, fists on his hips as he turned from one to the other repeatedly, waiting. Although he was taller than Gates, Folsom shriveled under his glare.

"Well? Anyone care to explain what the fuck's going on here?"

I said nothing. Figured it was Folsom's responsibility to tell him, since this was mostly his fault.

"This brat--" he pointed a finger at me. "Is refusing to learn how to manage the rigging and is blaming me for it. Like it's my fault she's too daft to learn or that I'm somehow responsible for her cowardice."

Oh, that son of a... "Excuse me? He's the one who showed me how to tie the knots once and then left me to figure it out on my own! And now he wanted me to climb to the yards and learn the rigging, when he knows I can barely do those knots."

"Shut your trap, you little--!"

"YOU shut your trap," Gates ordered. "Before I knock what's left of your teeth! So she's not learning anything from you, is that it? Funny, because from what De Groot, Thierry and Bjorn said, she's been proving to be hard-working and eager to learn."

Thierry and Bjorn were the two men who had been into storage with me, the previous day. They had given me the worst tasks, ordered me to carry the heaviest weights and laughed when I struggled, panting like a dying animal. I never imagined they would then report back to Gates and praise me.

I scanned the crowd for their faces -- there they were. Bjorn, barrel chested and fiery red hair with a braided beard to match, and Thierry, with round cheeks the color of ebony and an easy smile on his lips. They were watching the whole thing like it was the most entertaining piece of theater they had seen and smirked at me with approval in their eyes.

Folsom's fists clenched and unclenched as he searched for a better argument to make. I crossed my arms and raised my chin, savoring how he squirmed. Gates pinched the bridge of his nose, then snapped his fingers.

"I know how to solve this conundrum. You--" he pointed to Folsom. "Have two days to teach her how to tie the fucking knots. And you--" his finger swerved to me. "Have two days to learn them. If she can't tie the knots with her eyes closed by then, you will both regret it. Do I make myself clear?"

I thought it was unfair that I was being threatened with punishment along with Folsom, but this early into the game, I didn't have the guts to argue with Mr. Gates. Therefore, reluctantly, I bit my tongue and nodded. Folsom swore under his breath, but also waved out a hand air in annoyance. "Fine."

"That's settled, then. Two days. Don't disappoint me. Either of you." Mr. Gates turned his back on us and slid through the crowd. "Don't you people have anything to do? Get back to work!"

The men scattered like roaches to return to their posts. Before he left, Jean and I exchanged a look: his of concern, mine of gratitude. I nodded to let him know I was fine, and he left as well.

"Fucking hell..."

I looked to Folsom, who was still fuming but steadily calming down. He pegged me with a glare which I returned, scrunching up my brow and slitting my eyes to make myself as menacing as possible. I was done letting him or anyone else on this crew treat me like garbage. They could tease and haze all they liked, but when I felt they've gone too far, I was going to speak up.

The rigger shook his head. "Alright. Get over here."

I followed him to the highcastle, but we didn't climb the stairs. Instead, he sat on the steps and motioned for me to do the same.

"Do you have your practice ropes?"

I pulled them out of my pocket and placed them on his extended hand.

"Three times around your hand." He acted out the instructions for me to see. "Finger beneath the bottom row. Grab the middle row. Middle finger passes under that row. Slide them all the way over the back of your hand." He held up his perfect butterfly not. "Got it?"

"I believe so," I replied, then prepared to mimic him.

"Three times around your hand..."

He walked me through the whole knot and, what do you know? I got it right on the first try. I held it up for examination and couldn't rein back a small, satisfied smile when he nodded his approval.

"That's good. Adjust it so it's tight around you wrist."

I passed my hand through the hoop and pulled on the line to close it on my arm. It held fast, just as it was supposed to.

"You got it. Now tie it again."

I broke the knot and repeated it without Folsom's instructions, with full confidence. Again, I managed it without struggling.

"The bowline, now." He put one of his feet up so he could bring the line around his ankle. "One loop. Make a cross. Twist the line up and backwards. Pass the end through it from underneath, then under the line, back into the new loop from above. Pull the line to close it."

Again, he explained what I should do, step-by-step, correcting me when necessary. He tugged on the finished bowline to make sure it was secure, then told me to do it again, without help. On the first try, I twisted the rope downward instead of upward, but I soon realized the mistake and corrected it. When I got stumped on how to get the end through, he was quick to remind me, yet let me finish on my own. And there was my bowline, strong and true. By the fourth try, I was able to tie it without any assistance.

It was so easy after learning, I felt doubly annoyed at my mentor. My eyes shot up from my bowline to Folsom's. "Why couldn't you have taught me like this from the beginning?" I said. "It would have been so much easier for both of us."

"Women don't belong in ships," he shrugged. "It's not natural."

"Says who, exactly?"

Another shrug, until he stopped to really think about it, then stammered. "I don't know, God, I suppose. It's just the way things are."

"At the risk of blaspheming, do you see God come down from the heavens to cast me out of the Walrus as He did with Adam and Eve when they were expelled from Paradise?"

"Well, no, but that don't mean anything. God tells me not to sin, yet He won't come down to keep me from it, either."

"Oh, and I'm to believe you make a grand effort not to?" I arched an eyebrow in doubt. Folsom turned away, hands wringing around the line he held. "Exactly. So maybe people just take pleasure in doing what they're not supposed to. I thought that was what the whole pirate philosophy was about? Do what you want and hang the rules. You want to swear and raid and... visit the "ladies of the night" (that got a snort out of him) and I want to sail. Why should I be denied my wish just because I'm a woman? I'm learning, aren't I?"

Folsom chewed on my words for a couple of minutes. While he was at it, I tied a butterfly and a bowline. Both knots were flawless. When I looked up, I caught him half smiling. I set the rope aside and held out my tar covered hand. "You're a good teacher, Mr. Folsom. I want to show I'm a good student, too. Truce?" He stared down at my hand, but soon took it and gave it a firm shake. "Truce." I let go of his palm and grabbed the rope once more. "Now, you said you were going to teach me the cleat hitch next."

"Aye, that I did." He stood up and lead the way to the bow of the ship. "And I'm also going to teach you how to swear, because that teeny wittle "fucking" you choked out was ridiculous." My stomach lurched, both from the reminder of my silly figure and the actual profanity. "In my defense, I'm not used to using swears. My parents wouldn't allow it."

"Had a feeling you were a pampered brat." This insult came out much more casual, without any of the contempt he'd previously laced them with. So, I let it slide. "Well shit, you're a fucking pirate now, so that means you'll fucking swear like one, goddammit."

"Oh my God, stop!" I brought up my hands to my ears to muffle out his voice. They felt hot against my palms, same as my cheeks. "The fuck's the matter with it? Them's just words! When you stub your toe somewhere during a bathroom run in the middle of the night, do you want to say "oh gee golly, that hurt?" No! You want to scream, "ow, shit, my fucking foot!" So you're gonna say as many profanities as you can and you're gonna let your tongue get a feel for them, until they come out as naturally as any other pissing word."

I winced to Folsom's never-ending string of curses. Couldn't even begin to imagine myself putting so many of them into a single sentence. We got to the fifes. Folsom crossed his arms and pinned me with a hard stare. "You know what this is?" I hesitated, already guessing what was coming. "A fife rail," I muttered. "No," he said. "It's a goddamn fife rail. Say it." I swallowed dry and turned the word over in my mouth like it was dirt before trying: "A god-damn f-fife rail." "What? Didn't hear nothing. Spit it out, you cunt."

I glared at him for using that word again. I hated it. My blood boiled in my veins as that old anger stirred up, so much so that, to my shock, the profanity came out much easier. "A goddamn fife rail."

"That's more like it." He grinned at the way I brought my hands to my mouth, face flaming hot. "And you know what you're gonna do with this fife rail? You're gonna tie a fucking line to the pin. Go on."

Oh, God have mercy. "I'm gonna tie a ffff... Dammit, I'm gonna tie a fucking line to the stupid fucking pin!"

Huh. What do you know. It does feel good when you do it angry. Folsom laughed loud and good, reminding me too much of a gull squawking.

"There! There you have it! Fucking hell." He smacked a hand on the rail with a relaxed sigh. "Oh, which reminds me. I'm not a fucking prick." He smirked like a cat about to jump on a mouse. "I'm a fucking asshole of the worst kind."

"You really are, though." I retorted, arms crossing at my front. "An extremely irritating, prejudiced little shit and a cock-faced son of a bitch." Oh, sweet Jesus, it felt too good. My Mother and Father would have fainted if they even imagined I was using such language.

"Alright, alright, don't get excited, you're gonna hurt my feelings." But judging by his big grin, it was clear he was pleased with my rotten mouth.

He taught me the cleat hitch, which I tied with ease. Just like that, my knots (and my swearing) improved from one minute to the next, and I felt certain that we would both pass Gates' test without breaking a sweat.

Before wrapping up the lesson, I remembered there was something else I needed to do in order to become an official member of the crew. I asked Folsom if he would like to do the honors and, surprisingly, he agreed. Therefore, we descended to my hammock to get the Articles, and then it was off to find Mr. Gates.

He was in the great cabin with captain Flint, which was just my luck since I would likely need his presence as well. The door was open when we arrived, all I had to do was knock. "If I may have a moment...? I will be brief."

"Come in," Flint said. Once again, he was sitting at his desk, while Gates occupied the chair across from it. Folsom and I stepped into the cabin to stand by him.

"I have read the Articles as you requested, Mr. Gates. And I think I'm ready to sign. If it's alright with you and the captain, I already brought a witness."

Gates' dark eyes hopped between the two of us with mild surprise, which he was entitled to, since not an hour ago he had seen us at each other's throats. Flint remained impassive, if a little curious.

"I take it you've made your peace with each other, then?" Gates asked cautiously.

"We have, yes." I answered.

Folsom added: "She's not so bad, now that she's gotten her potty mouth."

"Shush, you," I hissed, cheeks flaring up yet again.

Gates chuckled and shook his head. He looked to Flint. "Any objections?"

"Not on my part." He said while smoothing down his beard. "If this is truly what she wants, then go ahead."

Gates pushed the ink well in my direction. I set the Articles on the desk, dipped the quill and scribbled my name in elegant calligraphy, the product of my high class education. I added a swift, bold swirl to my signature, almost like a personal statement. I'm here, this is who I am and this is what I choose.

My old life as a proper lady was over. My new life as a scallywag had officially begun.

***

Two days later, Gates called the two of us to him and ordered me to perform my knots with my eyes closed. I let Folsom tie a blind fold around my eyes, as a precaution and extra flair. Neither one of us wished me to fail, so putting on a bit of a show, though risky, was sure to fortify our success as mentor and pupil beyond doubt.

I tied all five knots without a hitch. Mr. Gates was satisfied with the results, so Folsom and I came away from our ordeal with our hides untanned and pride swelling in our chests.

As we moved on through the weather deck, Folsom turned to me. "What do we say?"

I set my hands on my hips with a bright grin. "Fuck yeah."

"Damn right."

#black sails #black sails fanfic #billy bones #hal gates #alternative prequel #oc centric #slow burn #canon character x original character romance #found family #friends to lovers #stories by crow #a girl an ocean fanfic

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lockandkeyhyena · 9 months ago

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ok!! all time favourite mlp fic recs GO!!

I’m limiting myself to one fic per author for this list or else it’d just be filled with mushroompone and monochromatic fics haha

anyway if you guys want specific types of fic recs, shoot me an ask!! this list is based on my personal taste which tends to lean darker/dramatic/emotional/tragic.

now, these are just the ones i have reread relatively recently and as such can give adequate descriptions of, as well as me not being a professional reviewer by any means, so you’re not going to be getting any deep analysis, i honestly just want these fics to get more attention.

side note, you’ll have to have mature content enabled for some of these fics due to darker and more explicit themes seen in some of them.

Threshold

As the rest of her friends found happiness and fulfillment, Rarity was left behind. Now, trapped in a dead-end relationship, she can feel herself slipping away in more ways than one. The return of her dear friend Rainbow Dash might mean salvation, but as the world crumbles around them the girls begin to question their place in time and in each other's lives.

CW - Abuse/A Central Abusive Relationship, Self Harm, Profanity, Narcotics, Violence, Death

Look, if you’ve followed me for any significant amount of time, you’ll know how much I adore this fic. It’s one of my all time favourite mlp fics, if not my absolute favourite. The way it explores themes of abuse and something being not quite right just absolutely makes me adore it. Having it focus on one of my favourite ships is also just a cherry on top. I don’t want to give away too much of the plot because experiencing it firsthand is an amazing experience, so I’ll just say if you like ~liminal space~ vibes, you should give it a read. I will warn you again, it is an extremely intense read and delves into themes of abusive relationships, depression and things along those lines but if you feel you’re in the headspace for it? It honestly and truly changed the way I read all fiction. I have to write up a proper thought-out review of it sometime. In fact, it’s just about time for my yearly reread…

Administrative Angel

Principal Celestia always has wings in her dreams. They got her into trouble, once. She let herself believe that they meant she was an angel. Then she grew up, and learned some hard lessons about what being an angel really required. Now six magical girls have just fought a demon in front of her school. And her phantom wings are itching. Her life is turning upside down ... and she hasn't even heard about Equestria yet.

What can I say about this fic except the fact that if you have to only read one Equestria Girls fic, let it be this one. The way it explores Celestia’s character and understands her better than almost any other fanfic I’ve read has done is phenomenal. It’s a short read, so you can get through it in an hour or so and wow. As a certified Celestia lover I give this fic my stamp of approval.

Cinéma Vérité

In the shadow of Nightmare Moon's rule, the ponies of Equestria live in uneasy peace. Vinyl Scratch refuses to accept the new status quo, making seditious films in secret out of a hidden basement below the streets of Manehattan. Octavia, meanwhile, busies herself with running a successful nightclub, finding audiences for illicit screenings of Vinyl's films, and preparing for the day when they draw the wrong kind of attention. Vinyl might be willing to die for her art, but Octavia refuses to let that happen.

Do you like Vinyltavia? Do you like Nightmare Moon Wins aus? Do you like intruige, drama and tension? Then I am begging you to read this fic. Please its so good. Plus it has one of my favourite Photo Finish characterisations out there.

A Life Lived In Hundreds

It was a normal life, until Twilight Sparkle fell out of time and into her lap. Then things started getting complicated. 100 words. Fragments of a life. Each year, every year: as the years march forward, unstoppable, unceasing, Granny Smith wonders what it all adds up to.

A ship and an experimental format that i never expected to see by themselves, much less paired together, but somehow making it work. The short, punchy chapters really submerge you in the story and the constraints of the word limit contribute to some fantastic prose.

The Enchanted Library

Everypony enjoys myths and ponytales, even if they know such things aren't real. Alicorns fighting against a spirit of chaos? An ancient princess trapped in a library under a tree, waiting to be found? Quite enchanting and fantastic tales yes, but nonetheless as fictional as Daring Do and other such stories. At least, that's what Rarity used to think. She doesn't anymore.

Come on, you guys knew this was coming. If you consider yourself a Raritwi fan you have to read this fic and it’s sequel/s. The way Monochromatic manages to write such gut-punch moments right next to the sweetest Raritwi fluff you’ve read in eons is just. Chefs kiss. I know it’s a big time sink but it is absolutely worth it.

Want more fic recs that I love just as much as these but haven’t read so recently? Shoot me an ask or check out my All Time Favourites List on fimfiction!

#yeen rambles #mlp #my little pony #long post

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septima-severa · 9 months ago

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A high time to edit my old Titanic fanfic

I think I started writing it before I moved to the countryside, which would now be an astonishing amount of six and half years. I have been fascinated by the ill-fated ship since childhood (thanks to Cameron's movie), and later discovered tons of fanfiction on the ye olde internet. Now, after reading and rereading On the Edge of Daylight by Giselle Beaumont multiple times over the past few years (and I have known this story since it was "just another" fanfic on AO3), I have finally rediscovered my old file - where there have been more notes than text itself - and dove into the On a Sea of Glass to make even more notes.

After all these years, my goals changed. I have worn the period-accurate garments - including a corset - long enough that I'm finally comfortable to continue my tale. And I don't want to write only some another officer appreciation smutty story. I want to introduce more of those half-forgotten characters. I want to overcome the hardships of the Edwardian era as a female doctor on board. I want to...

So many things.

But one stays the same - infamous prankster Charles Herbert Lightoller. And THIS is giving me a hard time.

It will take a lot of time yet before I will be comfortable enough to post the first chapter. In the end, I have written a completely new one just today. But there is an excerpt with Lights that I want to share now.

---

“I’m afraid that Captain Smith’s arrival is not due for another hour,” he informed her, watching her expression fall slightly. “But I’m sure you can wait in the Officers’ Mess, maybe with some tea to ward the morning chill off?”

“Wonderful,” she smiled, warmth returning to her eyes.

Instead of simply trusting her with instructions, the man insisted on accompanying her to the boat deck.

“Oi, William!” came from behind them when they walked towards the Officers’ Mess on the starboard side of the Boat Deck. The male voice was accompanied by rather hastened steps as its owner chased after them. They both turned in unison to see another officer running in their direction, blindly adjusting his tie. “I thought I’ve heard you and –“ he stopped abruptly, eyeing the newcomer. “Sneaking women on board dressed in the uniform now, Will? While on duty? And what would Ada say?”

“Lights!” Murdoch elbowed him in warning, a hint of blush creeping to his cheeks.

Alexandra picked on the newcomer’s teasing tone. “His wife would say absolutely nothing, as she is an occasional patient of mine,” she brushed him off, offering her hand in greeting. “Alexandra Metcalfe, your Assistant Surgeon for the maiden voyage and beyond.”

Now was the time for him to stand there flabbergasted, his mouth hanging open.

“May I introduce the First Officer, Charles Lightoller,” Murdoch said with exasperation, watching his comrade losing his marbles in real time and, frankly, enjoying every moment of it.

Said man’s eyes widened slightly in disbelief, masked by a question. “Surgeon? But… but you are a… uh, a woman.” He was still in shock, if judging by his stammering over words. And it was not just an effect of early hour of her arrival.

“Excellent observation, Mr Lightoller. Indeed, I am, but in case you would need some stitches, I bet you wouldn’t tell mine apart from my male counterparts. Or maybe I shouldn’t apply anaesthetics before I have a go at it?” she grinned at him, returning the jest.

“Oh my God,” Lightoller muttered, face red as a tomato. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to assume –”

“No offense taken. I sincerely hope there is no problem with that.”

“With what?”

“Why, Mr Lightoller, with the third surgeon being a woman, of course! I wouldn’t want to distract you fine men from your duties!”

Mr Murdoch snorted at that. Since they had resumed their walk, he was now clutching the door handle from the Officers’ Mess, battling with himself to not double over in fits of laughter. He had known this woman, although they had met only fleetingly on board the Olympic the previous year. However, even then she had been known for her sharp wits and brusque tongue.

He opened the door to reveal the Fifth Officer slumped over his breakfast, watching his mug of coffee with bleary eyes, blinking slowly. The knot of his tie hang loosely around his neck, the shirt collar unbuttoned and crooked.

“Mr Lowe, for God’s sake,” he growled at the poor lad who reacted too slowly to snap at attention.

“Sod off…” the dishevelled man grumbled.

“Our Fifth Officer is out of sorts today, I’m afraid,” Murdoch turned to the woman standing beside him.

“He looks a bit green in his face,” she mused.

Lightoller was peeking inside the room over their joined shoulders. “Captain on deck!” he shouted, the loudness of it making Alexandra wince. At that, the man at the table stood abruptly, overturning his chair. “Here, everything’s in order again, minus Mr Lowe’s shirt,” the First Officer smirked.

#fanfiction #rms titanic #officer lightoller #officer murdoch

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protectorking · 3 months ago

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Fanfic AU Options?

Heyo everyone!

Orion here, i have a few stories i could write, unsure which one to do though lol

the AU options are as follows

Op-Strip-timus AU - Orion is a single dad trying to survive life, at night he's the Stripper known as Optimus, but there's something dark and sinister behind closed doors, what has Megatronus stumbled into!?

Lancimus Prime AU (this came to be due to THIS post i found awhile back don't you tell me he doesn't look like an older Lance it has insipired me) - When earth falls Lance doesn't expect to wake back up, only to suddenly be on a new world, in a new body, and the lions whispering in his mind telling him how to survive, he just thought he was done with interstellar wars, he had done his time in Voltron and yet here he is in the middle of an arising Civil War as someone named Orion Pax

Survivor's Life AU - My tmnt au where i'd expand on Leo's truama and angst i headcannon, and develop it more, there will be a lot of bashing against lots of people in the series i despised or particularly had a bone to pick with

Green's Darkness (G.D.) AU - Lloyd was tired of the way people whispered about him, stared at him, felt about him, ever since he'd revealed himself under the mask of the Green Ninja. No one dares to bully him, but no one dares to talk to him either, his friends are thriving in the spotlight they're receiving, but him? he's just getting worse, doesn't help he can feel everyone's emotions, he decides that pretend love is worse than hate and takes action to make them forget, planning on slowly killing off the Green Ninja so he can runaway and meet his online best friend. He just hopes she wont hate him for suddenly showing up in New York

Willow's Flower AU (Thank you Angelo for the name idea) - Leo didn't expect to ever feel so alone as he did, but now his brothers are gone, all doing their own thing, his father is dead, his human friends are off being humans, Karai and Shinigami are back in Japan, and of all those people he knows not a single one is replying to him what can she do now except embrace the side he buried so long ago, and with a little help from a final gift from Donnie he can do it with style, beware New York Leonna is taking the world by storm and she's not about to let anyone stop her, unless a certain Cottage Core cutie she's been crushing on for ages finally arrives in New York

The Odyssey AU - Megatron expected to fight in the war and return home quickly, never once did he imagine he would be stuck on a ship for so long, he just wants to return to his beloved queen and his newborn son, is that to much to ask of Primus and his Primes? (Epic the Musical but with Cybertronians)

Gods of Life and Destruction - "Primus wasn't always known as Primus, and Unicron wasn't always known as Unicron, long ago they were known as {Error} and {Error} split sparks twins, happy and thriving in the universe as {Err0r, 113209 Code not acceptable}, anger flows and a battle rages, desperate and fearful of both their lives they create warriors to protect themselves, P-{Error}Primus the Primes, Uni-{Error}Unicron the {ERROR} Peace is restored and the gentle giants fall into a slumber, what do these giants do while their bodies sleep? {Answer Unknown}" {?} glares at the screen in front of him, his brother needs to work on the history archives of his little planet, {??} leans over his shoulder "y'still try'n ta'fix m'database?" he questions his accent strong

#tmnt #transfromers #voltron #ninjago

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esther-dot · 2 years ago

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i know you didn't answer the previous ask talking about fanfic in particular but sansa shipping fic is a sight to behold due to how much options it offers and given how fanfic is an expression of shipping, i NEED to share my two cents of how vastly different sansa fanfic can be.

depending on her love interest, it tells vastly different stories.

LF? (hopefully) a dark, twisted romance, probably kinky with daddy issues. (hopefully) features dark!sansa.

the hound? probably very soft, beauty & the beast style, a lady & her knight type of story.

tyrells? pure romantic fluff, sansa as a great lady, some good rep, either sapphic or with willas' disability. usually it's an arranged marriage but sansa doesn't start the story outright hating highgarden (usually considering it a refuge after escaping KL). instead, her romantic dreams of knights and summer come true and her new family takes her in with loving arms.

oberyn? also a lot of fluff but make it poly and lots of good food and fun. / doran's kids: less poly but with the same love put into the worldbuilding of dorne.

lannisters? really brings out sansa as a political player. if it's tywin, it's probably kinky (and by kinky, i mean possession and breeding) and cersei dies. if it's jamie, it's not that kinky but cersei still dies. it's always an arranged marriage sansa is forced into but eventually she falls for the lannister in question and fixes his issues (and his family) while leaning into her political side and ousting cersei from her position at court. really, you need a fic where cersei dies? sansa x lannister.

theon is in a prime shipping position after they escaped winterfell together on the show (and that hug. i don't even like theon and i loved that hug in s8. sansa got all the best hugs on the show) and jeyne fills all the childhood friends to lovers tropes plus some sapphic rep. no arranged marriages here, just people finding each other again after years of separation and suffering.

jon is kind of all of the above, depending on interpretation and what kind of vibes are wanted with the advantage of being stark-based and lots and lots of ghost being a good boy who sticks to sansa's shadow. she at least ends up as the ruling lady of winterfell in a prospering north. rickon lives, arya comes and goes as she pleases, brienne is in her queen's guard.

all of these don't even consider the potential of au's that deviate from the books more than a butterfly effect and a few (or many) slightly (or heavily, looking at you tywin) adjusted characters. (btw, in modern au's sansa also offers the potential trope of TWO crazy ex-boyfriends who abused her to some extent and who can cause further conflict.)

depending on what kind of tropes you love, there's a sansa ship for you out there because there's just so much possibility in her character and depending on where you diverge from her story (and which house you favour, tbh), all of them are kind of possible if you squint and that's where she's very different from characters whose paths are already set in stone. unless we go into au's that deviate before the books start, jon is always going to be at the wall. dany is always going to start out in essos and doesn't interact with other romantic leads until she's the conqueror (or saviour). robb is always going to be the heir of winterfell and has to return to winterfell even if he survives. sansa meanwhile crosses paths with most of the major factions during her time in KL and is in search for a home & family and can embody both the daughter that's going to leave her father's home and make a home elsewhere AND the eldest surviving child that can find her home AT home with whomever she chooses (sometimes reconquering wf for rickon with the help of her adopted family)

having her face so many suitors obviously puts the idea in the reader's head that sansa is worth pursuing and that there are possibilities to deviate from the story (which makes a lot of these matches possible, the easy in with the lannisters and the tyrells is always an arranged marriage (oberyn shipping kind of involves a lot more voluntarily getting kidnapped before the match is made)) but the potential each match brings is really up to the writer.

as someone who tries not to judge what other people like in fanfic, i have to admit that sansa is a gift that keeps on giving.

(and if you want to know how i know, it's because i'm the embodiment of the guy that finds a "dead dove don't eat" bag in the fridge and opens it anyway. i'm just really happy i haven't seen any sansa x qyburn yet.)

(About this ask)

That was a really fun read! It’s a great point about Sansa’s story in particular placing her in vicinity of many of these important characters in a way others don’t (like Jon or Dany), so I can def see why, when looking to write a romance with a certain character, she’s the go to heroine of the story.

I also think a big factor is that Sansa is someone a lot of girls can identify with and you can manifest her personality, interests, struggles into different scenarios pretty easily, so generally, I understand why of all the characters in ASOIAF, if someone wants to write a romance, it would center on her.

If you have stumbled across some hidden gems feel free to send me fic recs!

#dot chat

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writingwife-83 · 1 year ago

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Hello! 🙂

What is your opinion about the use of the word gratitude in the description of the reylo kiss?

In my opinion, although I would have preferred the authoress not to have used that word, that does not mean that a kiss from Rey was not romantic.

I realize that something that moves Rey a lot is when someone comes back for her and for her, and this is due to the fact that she waited many years for her parents to return and they didn't come back. In that sense, two people came back to Rey to help and save her: Finn in TFA and Ben in TRoS. The way Rey treats Finn and Ben after they help her shows who Rey sees as a friend and who she sees as a love interest.

Rey hugs Finn and before heading to Ahch-To, she kisses his forehead and says: “Thank you, my friend.” As for Ben, upon realizing that he turned to the light side and went to Exegol to help her, to fight alongside her (and to show that they are now together, as Adam Driver said), Rey reciprocates his actions with a happy smile, she touches his face affectionately and kisses him passionately on the lips. The TRoS novelization also describes that if Ben hadn't gone to Exegol, Rey wouldn't have been able to resist Palpatine's blackmail. He saved her life and the entire galaxy.

The same attitude from two men, but Rey thanked them in totally different ways. When a woman in love receives a gift or receives help and support from her love interest/boyfriend/husband, it is natural for her to say thank you with a kiss on the lips. Rey proceeded in the same way. Ben, clearly, is Rey's love interest.

Not just for the kiss, Rey's other actions demonstrate her interest in Ben, such as her looks at him, the way she reacted when she saw him shirtless, physical attraction, her declaration that she wanted to take Ben's hand, demonstrating that she wanted him. She also feels understood by him, they know each other better than anyone else.

I like the way the authoress describes the kiss when she says it is an acknowledgment of their connection, celebration that they have finally found each other, which I interpret as an acknowledgment of romantic connection too, not just the Force, and a celebration of having found your soulmate.

Sorry if there are errors in the English writing in my message.

Firstly, no worries about your English because it’s perfectly fine! 👌 ☺️ And my short answer is that I basically have the same take on the whole “kiss of gratitude” subject. I’ll just add a couple brief thoughts.

Like you said, if your husband does something nice for you it would be normal for that to prompt a kiss on the lips. That doesn’t suddenly turn that kiss into something platonic just because gratitude was part of the motivation. Gratitude and romantic attraction aren’t mutually exclusive, so the gripe people had with that wording always baffled me. And the other thing I always think about is that the timing was such that anything much more would have been a bit weird imo. I feel like there was a part of the reylo ship that wanted that scene to be like something out of a fanfic, but Idk if that would have fit given the setting and all that had just happened. A brief but passionate kiss to celebrate how far they’d come (and I agree, largely thanks to Ben!) was just enough for them. Because this was actually all so new for them and they were only just on the brink of a fresh start. Let’s not get into what happened right afterwards lol 😭 Anyway, thanks for asking and I’m right on the same line of thought with you! 🙌🏻

Now I feel like it’s only right to include this…

#wifey answers things #reylo #tros novelization #the controversial kiss of gratitude lol

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duplicitywrites · 2 years ago

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Tagged by @racfoam and @the-paper-monkey, thanks!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

183. Technically, I have a second separate account with archived older works that would add on top of this total. It's not really hidden, I just pretend it does not exist.

2. What's your total A03 words count?

1,693,656. Same thing as above. Some of these are from collabs, but most of it is mine.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Harry Potter, exclusively at the moment.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

But For You, I Did (20,976 words)

Harry James [Redacted] (23,832 words)

Sugar, It's Cold Outside (14,548 words)

Thanks for Harry (4,313 words)

Ripples Across the Water (95,453 words)

Personally, I find the top fic to be insufferable in the position that it's at. I have any number of works that I'd consider better 😔

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

I try my best! Currently I'm sitting about 100+ in the hole. If your comment is nice, I will endeavour to eventually respond 💝

Some people leave a bunch of emoji comments on chapters as they go along, and in that case I usually just respond to the last one rather than each one individually.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

We Still Have Time (9,053 words)

On Samhain, the veil between the physical and spiritual world weakens enough for the living to speak with the dead for a brief period of time. Tom and Harry are graced with twenty-four hours together before one of them must return to the other side, only— Which one of them is it?

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

I write a lot of happy endings, but I don't think I could pick just one, or even a few.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I'll say I give as good as I get.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Made a pseud — pwplicity (duplicity) — just for the smut. I think my favourite genre of smut to write is smut crack.

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

Not my cup of tea.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

On Wattpad, yes.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Plenty! All the translators who I've spoken with were lovely people, and I really truly appreciate all the hard work they put into making fanfic accessible.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Most people, I hope, are familiar with The Immortal Duties of Lord Voldemort. I have collabs outside of that, most notably with @dividawrites and @cindle-writes 💘

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

I'd say this one. Older fandoms hold nostalgia for me, but I've never created as much as I have than for this ship!

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I have a gen fic one-shot that involves terminal illness of sorts. I started it during the pandemic, and it will likely never be completed due to the overall depressing nature of the story.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I like to think I'm funny and I have creative ideas.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm a pantser. And I always have a dozen gdoc tabs open at a time because I keep starting new ideas.

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

In moderation, unless we're actively providing translations. Even so, it can break up the flow of reading if I have to dump entire paragraphs into a translator just to understand what's going on.

In certain fandoms, there may be canonical language elements that are frequently used and thus become colloquial in a way — I used to read/write in the Les Miserables fandom, so there was a lot of French.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter... so we've come full circle!

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

This is the question I hate the most because I never have a real answer. Either they're all the best, or I hate them all. Take your pick.

Anyone who wants to answer these, please feel free! 🎃

#tag game

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digitalsatyr23 · 1 year ago

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What I'll be up to in the future

So I've given it a lot of thought and I don't want to outright nuke this blog, but I can't trust tumblr with my creative works anymore. My plan is to gradually move my stuff away from this site and replace the posts with links to where they can be read, so basically this blog will be for posting links, writing updates, and reblogging whatever I find interesting. I'll probably... Not use this site as much as I used to, but I still enjoyed my time here, you know? As far as where I'll post, I do still have my Ao3 account, and I hear (despite it being fanfic focused) that original works are totally allowed with the right tagging. And they have a whole page about how they're opposed to letting AI scrape their site for data, so at least I know they're on their users' side for the time being.

As far as what my future projects are, for those who are still interested, I'm finally returning to my Ocarina of Time fanfiction. The big collab project I was working on ended up hitting a big roadblock and I don't know if it'll ever continue, so at the moment, I feel it'd be worthwhile picking up the fanfic and working towards finishing it. No idea how long that will take, but I'll go back to posting new chapters soon enough. I just gotta reread my notes and what I've written so I can refresh my memory. I was still in the middle of a chapter where I last left off, so that newest one shouldn't take too long.

For those interested but unfamiliar with my Ao3 account, you can find me here. Also if any of ya'll are gonna jump ship due to tumblr's recent policies and allowance of data scraping, let me know where you'll go so I can continue looking at your work!

#blogging #writeblr

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phoenixdown-and-fairydust · 2 years ago

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Hey, Tolkien works fanfic side of tumblr I need your help finding a specific fic. Unfortunately, my old phone, where I had it book marked as well as the info for that account, is dead, so I'm SOL if no one else remembers this. It was a fairly short fiction focused on Finarfin, not sure if I initially found it under a ship tag for him and Earwen or not since it wasn't focused on romance. It actually was a platonic spin on the hanahaki trope(coughing up flowers due to love)which I haven't really seen before, the idea being Finarfin is such a loving person not just to his wife but to all his people, so basically he's never going to be rid of the condition, because there's no way everyone will always return that love. At some point the Valar offer to cure him, and he refuses because a king should love his people.

I thought it was called something like 'Flowers in his Throat', but I can't seem to find it under that title. Also I can't say 100% if he was referred to as Finarfin or Arafinwe anymore, unfortunately I'm too used to reading and using the names interchangeably.

...Also I'm like 99.999% sure it was in English. I will admit there were times where I consumed media while tired, thought a friend would like it, and then was confused why I couldn't find the English version when I tried to show them, only for them to point out that there was never was an English version, I was just in German mode when I heard it. In my defense, it only happened 2, max 3 times, and that was it with videos or audio skits, not text. I don't think I would have been able to translate text as automatically as audio, I'm pretty certain it wasn't a German fic.

#help me Tolkien side of tumblr #you're my only hope #no seriously I'm driving myself nuts with key phrases trying to find this fic #Arafinwe #Finarfin #The Silmarillion #silmarillion fanfiction #fanfiction

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echos-girlfriend · 2 years ago

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~Don’t be afraid~

Hunter x GN Reader - Word count 813

Masterlist

Prompt(s): Falling in love is a unique kind of vulnerable and i dont- i dont want to feel that way.”

{ @cloneficgiftexchange }

@moonlight-sonata99, I wrote this fir you my lovely 💜 you have been one of my best friends on tumblr for a long time.. and I cannot believe I have the pleasure of writing this fanfic for you~

The days seemed to go by slower and slower recently.. That is until Cid had sent you and the batch on a mission that turned out to be something more than it was, shocker.. but this was.. different.

Running.. shooting. Hiding. It was nonstop.

Dealing with pirates was something you knew would happen.. but this was intense.

“Omega! Look out!”

You grabbed her and pulled to the side as bombs were thrown across the skies. Omega clutched tightly at your side. You blocked her eyes with your hands from the debris.. you out to her hands on her cheeks looking over her.

“Are you alright?! Are you hurt!”

“I’m ok. I’m ok..”

Hunter ran over to you both. You couldn’t see his face due to his helmet but you know he had a worried look on his face. He looked omega over and then looked at you before swiftly returning to the battlefield.

‘Go and get the ship ready.. we will be on our way soon’

You looked at omega and made a run for the ship.. shooting at the pirates chasing after you. You stayed on the ramp and fought back the few pirates that remained.

“Get the ship started Meg!”

“I’m on it!”

The boys weren’t far behind you.. you stood watch as each one got onboard.

“Is everyone ok?!”

Voices all rose and said ‘yes’ almost in unison. This was too close.. you all had at least one or two bruises. Your hand in particular was bruised badly.

Hunter was in shambles.. trying to get everyone what they needed. Trying to make sure his family was ok. He came over to you and didn’t say anything.. he just looked at you and walked on

“Are you ok?”

Omega put her hand on your shoulder. You nodded and looked down at your hand. She saw your hand and grabbed a med kit.

“I’ll help you with that!”

Hunter looked everywhere but at you and Omega. You could tell he was trying to avoid looking at you. You huffed and looked down at Omega, who just finished wrapping your hand.

“I need to talk to Hunter.. can you give us a minute?”

Omega nodded and ran off to the cockpit to join the others.

“Hunter.. why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Avoiding me! It’s constant.. I. What did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong..”

“Then what did I do!”

“Nothing!! You.. You just.. It’s you..”

You looked at him confused.. you were starting to think that maybe he didn’t like you..

“What do you mean..”

“I can’t stand being around you.. b-becuase falling in love.. confuses me.. I don’t understand it.. it makes me scared.. and I don’t want to feel that way..”

You took a step back as his voice raised. Hunter couldn’t stand to be in the room with you.. He swiftly left the room. He left you standing there in shock.

You couldn’t believe he felt this way, after all this time? You did your best to catch up to him, wanting to confess your own love.

“Hunter! Hunter please.. I need to tell you something”

“Please just leave me alone-“

“Hunter I love you and I’m not afraid of it.”

“I.. I don’t know what do to.”

You gave him a smile.. your voice gentle.

“What do you mean Hunter?”

He looked away from you before looking forward.

“I was never told these feelings.. were normal. They scare me. I don’t wanna get attached.. what if I lose you?”

“Hunter. It’s ok to have these feelings.. you can be scared of things. Do you want to talk about what you feel?”

He took a deep breath and nodded. He turned to face you and gently looked at your eyes.

“I feel, I feel this pull to you. I.. I love you. It makes my stomach flutter and my heart beat fast.. it makes my senses go into overdrive thinking about you. I don’t want to lose you.. I’m scared”

You took his hand in yours. And brought them to your lips, gently kissing his knuckles.

“Hunter.. It’s called love.. you care for me like I care for you..”

You smiled at him and put your hand on his cheek, gently stroking it. He looked at you, pure love and adoration in his eyes.

“Hunter.. it’s ok to be scared. I’m scared too. Love is strong.. and it’s powerful.”

“Yeah.. Why are you scared..?”

“Because. When you love someone you don’t want to lose them.. well I’m afraid of losing you.”

Hunter sighed and pulled them in close.. wrapping his arms around them.

“You won’t lose me.. and I won’t lose you.”

“Sounds like a plan sarge. Let’s shake on it?”

He chuckles and the pair shake on their new deal.. sharing a comforting yet funny moment between each other.

Their journey together had just begun~..

#the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you #angst #fluff #love confession

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noa-ciharu · 2 years ago

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Random question:

I hope this won't offend you, but you may not answer this if this is personal.

"Since you stated in your bio that you are Aroace... who seems to have not any romantic feelings around people, would you say that Chobits or/and The one I love make a fine 'love story' for you?"

If something makes a good love story or not is a tough question. I usually deconstruct it to this:

Good love story shouldn't rely on readers shipping the characters.

Don't get me wrong, if readers hate the paring than they'd have harder time forming objective stance as well. But if someone who is neutral towards main ship(s) views the story and sees quality in it, then story has way more to offer than just rainbows and sparks. Therefore romance as genre on its own can easily fall down slippery slope of amatonormativity, stance that monogamous romantic (and sexual) relationship is everyone's primary goal in life, is on top of relationships hierarchy and that life is inherently without a value without its presence. If not viewing media under shippers lenses, those are very easily spotted. Hence romance combined with another genre such as comedy, psychological factors, horror, tragedy, drama etc.- those work way way better because there's more to the story than simply "when will those two kiss???"

Now, that's where "The one I love" fails sort of, because absolutely every chapter is entirely about romance, no depth whatsoever. But I feel it's wrong of me to bash on it since manga was sort of like Clamp's rough drafts/diary, more like self indulgent fanfic than proper manga. Lighthearted series that you read once, think it's cute and never think about it again. I wouldn't count manga as bad, more average.

Chobits however, it is more than you've bargained for definitely. Biggest plus in my book Chobits had is exceptionally well done mix of lighthearted, innocent and romantic moments on one hand with psychological elements and far far more complex issues than it meets the eye. At its core, Chobits is story about loneliness of modern world. With persocoms introduced to the world, those handy cute looking robots began replacing human connections; because having someone by your side who fulfils your every desire is far more convenient. Still, in process humans became not only detached from one another, but also from their persocoms as well; because they as well had feelings, even if they're piece of machinery humans viewed as replaceable.

Now there were alot of stories in Chobits about outcasts that grew too attached to their persocoms (like that dude that married one); ofc pain followed as average lifespan of machinery is far lower than human's. Then stories about humans being jealous of their loved ones caring more about persocoms than them. General fear that any inconvenience of human contact would be pushed aside and perfection of having someone who submits to your will would be sought as preferable option. And so much more, really story has alot to offer from psychological aspects.

And there's Chii - analogy for asexuality.

Echii elements are nicely done in this manga, because Chii herself isn't aware why walking around naked is inappropriate, why Hideki blushed when he sees her in just his shirt. She doesn't understand sexual attraction, nor she feels it. But she does feel romantic attraction, boy does she feel it strong. But she also felt fear when she realized she started loving Hideki. She worries if her affections would be returned, which to casual reader might be tad bit confusing since he's basically doting on her 24/7. Why is she unnecessarily worried you ask?

Keep in mind - Hideki is hypersexual guy. He's your average hetero teen guy who dreams about having a cute gf and later on wife. There's nothing wrong with that; but his dream does involve sexual activity - something Chii can't provide.

You see, that's the issue asexual people face every day - fear of rejection due to their lack of desire for sex being seen as inconvenience. It might sound a bit ridiculous to have one character in manga leave other because they can't have sex (especially if it's light romance manga where characters are expected to love one another with all the ""flaws"'), but irl that's unfortunately very very common occurence. People leave one another for far lesser reasons than that. To non-asexual people sex is important part of relationship and whether they want to admit it or not, being with asexual partner is seen as inconvenience.

Hence when Chii is fantasizing finding someone just for her, someone special who'll accept her for what she can do (provide romantic love) and what she can't do (provide sexual gratification) - it's basically analogy for asexual non-aromantic persons fantasizing about someone accepting them for what they are

#thanks for ask #i don't mind answering questions about aromatism or asexuality anon no need to feel worried :D #but yes I'd say chobits makes a nice love story since it has way more to offer than just romance #clamp #chobits #asexuality #asexual #aromantic

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inactive17645 · 4 years ago

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Safe & Sound [1]

Chapter One: Pilot

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Reader & Wells Jaha x Reader

Warnings: Swearing & Mild Violence

Word Count: 3637

Author’s Note: Welcome to the first chapter of my very first series here on tumblr! I hope you guys come enjoy the ride and stay until the end. I know there are a few Bellamy x Reader fanfic series on here now, but I really wanted to put my own spin on a The 100 rewrite. Also, please let me know if you want to be tagged in any future parts by either PMing me or through my ‘Ask Me Anything’ tab on my profile!

Season Masterlist

Series Masterlist

It was supposed to be like any other day. I’d wake up, the guard would give me three small portions of food throughout the day, whilst rereading the various classics and Greek mythology books my father sent. Eventually, I’d fall back asleep with my mother’s dove pendant clutched in my hand as I gazed out the window, into the dark abyss scattered with diamonds. On every other day, you’d make sure to aside time to practice self-defence. Something that my father had guards teach me before I was locked up.

Today was not one of those days. The chaos of yelling, screaming and grumbling outside the door ripped me from my trance. I shook my head and tried to engross myself again in the book I clutched, but the sound of the door flinging open broke it.

It also didn’t help that this was the last day before I’d be eighteen. Before I’d be floated.

“Prisoner 301, face the wall.” My breath hitched in my throat. No! I still had one more day!

When you didn’t even move an inch towards a wall the guard stalked his way towards you, his presence towering over your sitting form. “Get up on your feet!”

“No! I still have a day left you cunt!” You screeched.

With a punch to the man’s groin, he collapsed to the ground and you scampered out to escape. Unfortunately, I’ve tried to escape my cell multiple times so it was no surprise when someone tackled me as soon as I left the room.

“Get. Me. The. Fuck Off!” I yelled as punch after punch landed on the man’s back. The man grunted after each punch, but he never let me go until I was stood in front of the one man who turned me in a year ago. My own father; Marcus Kane.

Although it was a relief to see him after so long, I couldn’t help but glare at the man. He was supposed to be there for you no matter what, yet he never visited. Too much of a coward to face you and sent books in his place. The kind of books you and your mom used to read together.

“Dad?!” I hated him, but I still hugged him. I hated him, but I still loved my father.

Your eyes glossed with tears that had every intention to escape.

“I don’t want to die, not today!” I pleaded, refusing the tears to shower my cheeks. “I don’t want to be floated!”

“You’re not being floated (y/n),” He told you. “You’re being sent down to earth.” A chill ran down my spine.

“But I thought the earth was still uninhabitable?” Dad just shook his head as another guard hooked me over their shoulder and stalked away from my father’s now retreating figure.

Typical. Just like when I was first chucked in the skybox. He couldn’t even muster a single goodbye. The punching of another guard ensued as he hauled me over to the dropship entrance.

Suddenly, there was a prick in my arm and gradually I drew drowsier, and drowsier. My punches slowly weakened after each hit. The last thing I saw before I succumbed to darkness was the menacing smirk of one Commander Shumway, my eyes darkening in both anger and fear.

In what felt like seconds, my eyes squinted open while adjusting to the poor lighting of the dropship. Screams and yells from others around me filled my ears. As my vision came into focus, I looked around to see the horror morphed on many of the teens’ faces. In the seat five seats down from me, I recognised a familiar head of blonde that I knew oh so well.

“Clarke!” I called. The blonde whipped her head my way and relief settled on both our faces. “Thank the gods you’re here! If I could I’d smother you in a hug right now I would!”

The two of us bursted out laughing knowing I’d actually smother her. Before I had the chance to ask her something else, Chancellor Jaha’s voice filled the room.

“Prisoners of the Ark, hear me now. You’ve been given a second chance. And as your chancellor, it is my hope that you see this as not just a chance for you, but a chance for all of us. Indeed, for mankind itself. We have no idea what is waiting for you down there. If the odds of survival were better, we would’ve sent others. Frankly, we’re sending you because your crimes have made you expendable.”

Expendable? What the hell?! All I did was try to spread the word that the life-support system for the Ark was failing, after overhearing a heated discussion between Jaha, my father and others in the Council.

“Everyone here being expendable is bullshit and you know it!” My voice echoed throughout the dropship, catching the attention of everyone in the room. I gulped at the stares thrown my way, but it was the stare of the single guard in the room that caught my eye.

No guards were supposed to be inside. So the only reason why he’d be here would be because he was escaping something… or to protect someone. Perhaps a certain younger sister that wasn’t supposed to be born?

It had to be Bellamy Blake, the older brother of floor girl, Octavia Blake. His gaze seemed to linger on me slightly longer than the other delinquents around. I wasn’t sure if it was due to pure curiosity or how everyone knew I was Marcus Kane’s daughter. I tore my gaze away from his blank stare and stared down at the metal ground.

As Jaha’s speech became muffled, I gaped at the floor and the room began to groan and shake. A familiar dark-skinned young man was suddenly talking to Clarke.

“Wells?” I questioned. His brown orbs tore away from Clarke, his gaze landing on me.

“(Y/N)! Thank god!” He floated over to me, pulled me up to my feet and smothered me in a hug. A giggle vibrated through my chest. “What’s so funny?”

“I told Clarke I’d smother her in a hug, yet you’ve gone and did just that to me,” I chuckled. Wells only chuckled as I hugged him back.

“This is nice —” We both started but ended in a fit of giggles. Two other delinquents then join Wells and I in standing up. I could hear Clarke softly calling my name to sit back down along with the others standing, but I just ignored it.

Strangely, Wells still held on to me and sat in the seat I was in just before, plopping me onto his lap and snuggling into me more. He and I did have a weirdly affectionate friendship before both our arrests, but even this was pushing the line between friendship and a romantic relationship.

The dropship lurched, sending three delinquents flying who had left their seats despite Clarke’s protests. I clunged to Wells’ neck as his grip on my waist tightened, closing my eyes tight. Something sickening yet sweet filled my nose. Smoke. Sparks went off right and left and with one final violent jolt, the dropship came to a stop.

We were on the ground!

The dropship powers down almost instantaneously and echoes of seatbelts unbuckling filled the room. Heat rose to my cheeks as I slowly clambered off Wells’ lap. His cheeks were crimson red as were probably my own. I helped him to his feet and took one of my hands in his, leading him down to the doors, waiting for them to be to opened as a crowd formed in front.

A dark-haired girl stormed through yelling, “Bellamy!” The guy in the uniform I saw before spun around and stared at the girl in shock. So I was right! He was Bellamy Blake and that girl was definitely Octavia, his sister.

“My God, look how big you are!” The two smiled at each other before the girl - Octavia - jumped forward and pulled Bellamy into a tight hug.

“Where’s your wristband?” Clarke asked Bellamy as she sided next to Wells and I.

“Do you mind?” Octavia cut Clarke off with an annoyed look. “I haven’t seen my brother in a year.”

“Seriously Clarke?” I jumped in, everyone’s eyes turning to me as I let go of Wells’ hand. “We’ve reached the ground and the first thing you do is ask where the guy’s wristband is?” Clarke was surprised by my outburst, but Octavia and Bellamy looked at me thankful that I stood up for them.

“Surely you’d like to be known as someone else. Perhaps the first person on the ground in a hundred years?” Octavia grinned in appreciation whilst Bellamy nodded my way.

I returned the smile as Bellamy pulled on a nearby lever, opening the door to the outside. As a haze of smoke breaks, a bright light shone into the ship, momentarily blinding me but the lush colours of green, blue and brown eventually took its place.

Finally, I’d be able to put my Earth Skills to use!

Octavia slowly made her way down the ramp before she stepped onto the ground. She turned back towards the ship, a massive grin etched on her olive face.

“We’re back bitches!” She threw her arms up as she yelled.

A parade of teens stormed off the ship in a hurry, yelling and screaming that we’re back. A laugh resonated in my chest as a familiar presence took my hand in theirs.

“Together?” Wells asked. With a soft sigh, I nodded, but not before I leapt onto his back. He shook his head as he wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck.

“Ride on my noble steed!”

A gush of air swept through my (Y/H/C) locks as Wells sprinted out the door, but within seconds of Wells being on the ground, we both tumbled onto the grass. One glance at each other was enough to send us into a fit of laughter.

“I missed you, Wells —”

“I missed you, (Y/N) —” A chuckle from above broke two of us from our trance.

“It hasn’t even been a day and you two are back to finishing each other’s sentences.” Clarke towered over Wells and I, teasingly shaking her head at us.

“Are you really surprised at this point, Clarke?” I retorted as I jumped to my feet, smothering the blonde in a tight hug.

“Nope!” With a quick kiss to Wells’ cheek, I sauntered off in hopes of recognising someone else. Within two minutes I had lost the motivation so I found myself a sturdy and long enough stick I could use to fashion a bow with. Someone’s shoelace would probably work for the string.

I sat close to the dropship, carving my initials into one end of the stick with a shard of metal that had broken off the ship, when someone sat next to me.

“Hey, you’re Marcus Kane’s daughter right?” I turned to see Octavia and nodded expectantly.

“That I am..” I replied slightly bitter. “But you can call me (Y/N).” I held my hand out for her to shake, but she hugged me instead. To say I was surprised would be an understatement.

“Why aren’t you angry with me? My father was one of the people that got you put in the skybox in the first place.” I asked as she pulled away.

“Because it wasn’t you who did it. It was your dad.” Well, she wasn’t wrong about that. A mischievous look appeared on her face. “Want to get into some trouble?”

I mirrored her expression. “Oh hell yes!” We both giggled before I grabbed her hand and lead her to the dropship. We pulled up behind Clarke and Finn, who were recruiting two other guys to head over to Mount Weather. “Can we go now?”

“Sounds like a party, make it six,” Octavia said as she gestured between the two of us. Clarke doesn’t protest, but a certain oldest Blake does. He grabbed Octavia’s shoulder causing her to let go of my hand.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” Bellamy scolded Octavia.

“Going for a walk,” she retorted as she pulled out of his grip. “Are you coming (Y/N)?”

I glanced from the group to Bellamy a few times, debating whether to follow along to Mount Weather or to help Bellamy around the dropship. Although I’d probably be more help with the group of five, something in my gut told me I’d be just as helpful here.

“I’ll stay here and help Wells and Bellamy with keeping order. As I’m sure they’ll need my help” I sauntered back over to the ship, ignoring Clarke and Octavia calling my name and a gaping Bellamy.

Throughout the day I helped Wells with pretty much everything, but as soon as the sun was near the horizon I decided to stop for the day. I wasn’t blind to Murphy trying to get people to take off their wristbands. Such an action was most likely something Bellamy put him up to as he was the only one that could benefit from it. The only question was why.

A shadow casted to the ground by the fire told me there was someone behind me.

“If you even think you can get the upper hand on me to get off my wristband, think again Blake.” It wasn’t a long shot if it was him, and my suspicions were proven right when the man himself sat down next to me.

“How did you —”

“Your shadow gave it away you idiot and only you or Murphy would dare approach me from behind. Not that Murphy has though.” He just nodded as I finally turned to him.

Although I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, Bellamy was handsome. His slightly tousled black hair, brown eyes and olive skin put him under the tall, dark and mysterious category. I tore my gaze away before it became borderline staring.

“Was there anything else you wanted to talk about, Blake?” I questioned. He shifted in his spot slightly.

“Thank you for earlier, with Octavia,” He admitted. “Although I’m certainly not a fan of your father, thank you.” Something in my gut told me he really did mean what he said.

“I’m not heartless, Blake” I retorted. “Compared to Chancellor Jaha and everyone else on the council, I’m a puppy.” We shared a look and snorted, trying to stifle our own laughs.

“Why a puppy?” He asked.

“Because although I look innocent, anything can still set me off and my bite is much worse than my bark.” I stood to my feet, dusting off any dirt and sauntered back over to the dropship.

A couple of hours later the world was enveloped in darkness, our only source of light being from the fire. Everything in me wanted to ignore the world around me. However, the muffled sound of arguing grew louder and louder as I left my daze.

“My father didn’t write the laws,” Wells’ voice admitted. My gaze looked up and landed on the arguing figures of Wells and Bellamy.

“No. He enforced him, but not any more, not here,” Blake shrugged. “Here there are no laws. Here, we do whatever the hell we want, whenever the hell we want. Now, you don’t have to like it Wells. You can even try to stop it, change it, kill me. You know why? Whatever the hell we want.”

I stood up, opening my mouth with every intention to object — at least get Wells and Bellamy to compromise on the situation — but Bellamy seemed to notice this and sharply shook his head. My eyes narrowed at him and scowled. He was taken aback by my scowl and I had no idea why.

“Whatever the hell we want!” Murphy yelled out to the crowd. The crowd of teenager, minus Wells and I, followed in suit and started chanting the only rule established. A rule that would do more harm than good.

“Am I the only one who thinks this is gonna result in chaos?” I asked Wells.

“You’re not the only one.”

He wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me close and I rested my head on his shoulder. Something that didn’t go amiss by the eldest Blake. Bellamy’s face was unreadable and I didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

A low rumble echoed from above before a downpour of rain decided to settle. Our first thunderstorm. A soft sigh left my chest as a smile formed on my face. The rain felt so good and I just didn’t care about getting soaked.

I allowed myself to enjoy the rain a little while longer, looking around at the other delinquents with a smile. My smile fades almost instantly when my eyes meet Bellamy’s dark chocolate orbs. I scowled once more at him before scavenging around for something to collect water in. He needed to know I wasn’t onboard with his so called plan.

The handrests of the seats inside the dropship ended up being perfect. I struggled a little getting some off, but I managed. With my small collection of water troughs, I sat them outside sitting in front of me as they collected the rain water.

The thunderstorm didn’t last for very long, but I’m left with a few troughs filled with fresh water. I drunk some water until my thrist was satisfied and I made sure Wells got some as well. Any water-filled troughs still completely full I snuck into the dropship to hide.

Wells then took my hand and lead me to a tree across the clearing and we helped each other up. We sat on a thick enough branch that could hold both our weights, sitting there in silence comfortably for a couple minutes, my head resting on his shoulder. Wells was the one to break the underlying tension in the air.

“I think we need to address the elephant in the room…” Wells trailed off. He took my hands in his and turned the both of us around, our legs dangling on either side of the branch. I could only sigh and nod.

“I know we’ve been best friends since we were toddlers and have always been affectionate with each other, but the cuddle in the dropship got me thinking.” Our fingers threaded through each other as he spoke. “I… I want us to be be more friends.”

My head perked up at his words. Not going to lie, I did develop a crush on Wells two years before I was chucked in the skybox. However, I never acted on it as we had been best friends for years. We grew up together and at one point I thought he had a crush on Clarke.

“But what about Clarke?” I mumbled as he took my cheeks in his hands.

“It’s always been you.”

His lips melted onto my own. Although his lips were slightly chapped from dehydration they were still incredibly soft. It felt as if a fire had started in my heart and I didn’t want it to stop. We eventually had to part for air, but he quickly slammed his lips back on mine, this time his tongue slipping into my mouth. We fought for dominance over each other, but Wells ultimately won. Our lips parted once more and we panted as we caught our breath.

Wells rested his head on my own and we both sighed.

“I’d hug you, but I’m worried we’d fall out of the tree.” Wells chuckled and pecked my lips. “I’ll find another tree nearby to sleep, we wouldn’t want people getting the wrong idea.”

I pecked his lips before jumping down from the tree. Almost everyone was asleep, so I walked quietly as possible to the closest tree nearby. I laid down, resting my head and back against the tree. Just as I was about to succumb to sleep a familiar presence sat down next to me.

“To what do I owe the displeasure of having your presence, Blake.” Bellamy snorted at what I said.

“I’m flattered you knew it was me,” he smirked.

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” I clapped back. I finally turned to his annoyingly handsome face. Gods I wanted to kiss that smirk off his face — wait what?! I kissed Wells only minutes ago and I was already thinking about kissing someone else?

“So…” he trailed off. “You and Jaha. When did that happen?” I gaped at the thought of how to respond.

“We both had crushes on each other, prior to us both being thrown in the skybox,” I admitted. “Neither of us acted on it before the Ground.” He nodded, but something in his eyes told me he was disappointed about something.

Mentioning being thrown into the skybox reminded me why I was put in there in the first place. Me trying to expose to the rest of the Ark that life-support was failing, my father being the one to chuck me inside and throw away the key. It was a cowardly move and my father knew it. He never even came to see me the utter bastard.

“I need help taking off my wristband.” Bellamy looked at me with disbelief. “I want to take it off, but I don’t want to hurt myself.”

He stared at me right in my eyes, probably to see with there was any hesitation in them. However, when he saw none he helped with the wristband, slipping it off with ease.

“Thank you.” He wasn’t really supposed to hear my thanks, but he did, just giving me a small smile before he walked off in the other direction.

My eyes glossed with water, the teardrops threatening to escape but only a single tear rolled down my cheek.

I’m sorry, Dad.

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#bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction #reader insert #the 100 rewrite #the 100 x reader #the 100 #wells jaha x reader #the 100 fanfiction #bellamy blake #bellamy x you #bellamy x y/n

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