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#i am not taking them i am not doing fic requests
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Winter's King 19
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: Have a good day.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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The queen rises, restless as her skirts sweep around her, streaked from the hem with the filth of the road. Her insistence on finery has proven fruitless. Her once prized gown will likely never be free of stains. She has many more, you only hope they survive the journey. 
She struts back and forth, scowling as she faces the wall and drops her shoulders. 
“Why is there no mirror?” She pouts, “this place is drab. How am I supposed to keep from going blind with dullness.” She flops back onto the bed, “ugh,” she rolls over, “maid, I need wine.” 
“Your highness,” you say sheepishly. 
“Do not,” she raises her hand in a harsh point, “I don’t care about the king’s orders. I have been on the road for weeks, I am sore, I am filthy, and I am tired!” She snaps her fingers, “if I want wine I will have it.” She puts her hand over her middle, “it is for the king’s child. He is thirsty.” 
You avert your eyes. You can’t deny her. Even if the king ordered that she be deprived, you cannot look her in the face and tell her no. If they king never knows, it mightn’t matter. You turn, your disobedience nipping at your ears. 
You emerge into the corridor. The orange-haired guard remains, along with the shadow standing across from him. Bryce looms, picking his nails with a small dagger.  
“Has the queen retired so early?” He asks. 
“She requires wine,” you return, “I won’t be long, sir. Might you point me towards the kitchen?” 
“I will accompany you,” he insists as he stand straight. 
“Do not trouble, sir, I am faster alone. I only need direction.” 
You see the disappointment tick in his cheek. You’re not so mad as you were, only cautious. The king will always come first, his will shall always circumvent your own. It is a reality you knew before but now it gleams in a much different light. 
“Down to the east, on the lower floors behind the statue of the knight in black armor,” he explains, “do take care not to lose yourself.” 
“I will, sir,” you nod and glance over at the other soldier. The man with carroty hair eyes you up and down. 
You flit off, hurrying upon your quest for a bottle. You’re not certain you’ll find bounty in your mission. This is not the king’s castle and you are not a thief. 
You descend and come around the bottom of the wide stone railings. The great hall is empty and only a few lanterns remain lit to guide you. You go east and find your way, coming upon the knight in black armour that at first appears as a real sentinel in the dark. You stop to look upon the suit, admiring the ripples in its forging. 
You go into the kitchen and find the haze of the stove lighting the empty space. You peer around at the dark alcoves as the air glows amber, pulsing with the heat of the embers. You tiptoe inside, narrowing your eyes to see through the dim. 
“Are ya lost?” A growl rises from the darkness. 
You spin and face the black silhouette of a large man stood on the other side of the thick wooden table at the center of the kitchens. You gulp and sway on your feet. He must be the cook or perhaps the cellarer. He likely thought you a rat scurrying around looking for crumbs. 
“No, sir, I... would there be a bottle of wine? For the queen?” You ask, your voice catching in your throat as he looms like some great husky bear. He reminds you of the white beast in the corridor as he comes around the table, the light catching the white of his thick locks. 
His body is as thick as a barrel and his shoulders broader. The flickering hue reveals the scar above his left brow and his pocked cheeks. You wonder at the tint of his hair as you try to tell if it’s the age the lines his face or if it is the same effect as the king. 
“Wine? For the queen?” He echoes sonorously, “hmmm.” 
“Yes, sir, if there would be any to spare?”  
“Mm, suppose a bottle might go missing,” he backs up and turns. He doesn’t beckon you onward but you follow anyway. Something about him bids you without a word. 
He takes you to the far end of the kitchens and grunts as he squats and reaches to his belt, jangling a ring of iron keys. He shoves one in the thick lock in the clasp of the hatch and unhooks it. He lifts the heavy door, thick cedar bolstered with steel and throws it back to hit the floor. 
“Ah, hold,” he signals you with a palm as he stands and retreats. 
He strides across the kitchens and without a word, shuffles in a cupboard. He mutters as he takes a tallow and lights its wick from the embers, setting it into a brass holder. He offers it to you and you take it without a word, curious at the grumbly cook. 
He descends the steep stairs first and you follow, balancing the candle carefully. He takes you by the elbow to help you to the beaten floor and you raise the candle to light the expanse of the cellar. It extends well past the limits of the flame’s eye. 
He goes to a shelf and slides a bottle free of its cubby. He tuts and puts it back. He pulls out several bottles before he makes a decision. He comes closer to examine the glass by the flame. 
“Summer wine,” he says and flicks his pale eyes up to you. They remind you of the king’s though they are paler in the candlelight. “And you, serve the summer queen?” 
“Yes, sir.” 
“You are a summerer?” He asks. 
“Sir,” you bow your head, “you can tell?” 
“Aye, no winter’s blood wears a cloak with walls to hold them over,” he chuckles and looks around. 
You glance down at the cloak. You hadn’t thought to remove it as the cold radiates from the stone. Even without the wind, a shiver creeps through your flesh. 
He frightens you as he reaches for you, only to touch the fur collar of the cloak, rubbing a tuft between his fingertips, “it is well made.” He lets his hand trail along the front and turns out the interior of the trim. You look down your nose as he reveals a patch you didn’t notice before; a wolf’s head. 
“Yes, sir, it is warm,” you agree and he withdraws his hand. 
“Suppose a summer’s maid needs it more than a winter’s king,” he says. 
You’re quiet. You have nothing to say to that. How many others took note of you in the king’s cloak? Do they whisper about it? 
“Your queen may take the wine,” he holds out the bottle, “and the king, might have a cask of ale should he require. Only one,” he lets go of the bottle as you accept it and holds up a finger, “he does not have leave to drink this cellar dry. Crown or no crown.” 
“Yes, sir. Many thanks.” 
He snorts and shakes his head, peering down at you, “a dove like you is out of place in this nest of vultures,” he muses and gently takes the candle from your hand, “better fly back to your queen, bird.” 
“Sir,” you turn towards the stairs as the candle illuminates your shadow against the shelves. You turn to climb and peer back at the man. He watches you, his eyes flickering with the flame. 
“Gentle creatures don’t fare well in the cold,” he clucks, “best keep that cloak close.” 
You ascend and cradle the bottle at the top, keeping it close as the liquid sloshes heavily inside. You pad over the kitchen floor and into the corridor. The great hall is even colder as the shadows ripple over you. As you come up the stairs, a shiver quakes through you. 
Something about that man, about his words, clings to you. His way of speaking is ominous, like those card readers who would visit Lady Rezlyn. Or perhaps it is only that you are waiting for the inevitable. 
As you near the queen’s chambers, you hear distant footsteps from the other direction. You come in sight of the grey soldier, spinning his knife as he whistles, the redhead guard sending him an irritated glower. You slow, preparing for the guard to repel you or at least seize the bottle from your arms. 
He does not. Even as he turns his scowl on you, he only reaches for the door to let you in. Before he can push inward, a throat clears. You all pause and turn to face the new figure. The king looks between you all; from the guard, to you, to Bryce. Your nerves flutter wildly. You haven’t been this close since the night on the pass. 
“I hope that wine is meant for you, Sir Bryce,” King Geralt booms, “as my queen is not permitted to indulge. She has a vile reaction to the stuff.” 
“Your highness,” the guard swallows audibly, “I... the queen--” 
“The queen is my wife and a wife must bend to the will of her husband,” the king insists hotly. The guard’s expression draws and he mutters an apology. 
“I was unaware of the ban,” Bryce intones, “but I’ll gladly claim the bottle for my own.” 
“Gilles,” King Geralt ignores the quip and points to the redhead guard, “you will inform the queen that she needs retire for the night. In her condition, it is necessary that she rests. If she requires sustenance, she may have bread and cheese and a bit of goat’s milk.” 
“Your highness,” the guard, Gilles, nods diligently. 
“And you will fetch it yourself,” the king insists, “I trust you might find your way around a tray.” 
Gilles stares at the king then slowly pushes into the queen’s chamber. The king nears and takes the bottle from your hand. You let him and back up as Bryce steps closer. 
“Your highness,” the soldier begins, “if I’d been aware--” 
“Hardly matters now,” the king shrugs and steps close to his man. He leans in and whispers something you cannot hear, “as you were,” he slaps his shoulder then continues on. You watch after him, perplexed but relieved at his indifference. Perhaps he has rethought his intent. 
Bryce is quiet until the king’s footfalls fade off. He lowers his chin, rubbing his thick beard. He touches your cloak, a small tug on it, “this way, maid. Let us find you a place to lay your head.” 
The promise of a bed is nice and reminds you of your weariness. Your legs ache as you follow Bryce along the corridor. Your shoulders rack and the remnants of the road begin to lace through your muscles. It is only as you think of laying down that you feel the effect of those last months. 
You yawn and stifle it in your hand. Bryce glances over and lets out a willowy breath. He is certain of his path despite the twists and turns. He directs you to a door at the base of one of the castle’s towers, opening it to a spiraling staircase. 
“Would be at the top.” 
You look up at the winding ascent. The walls are mounted with lanterns over every fifth step. You frown and pull back, turning to the soldier. Your stomach churns. 
“Up there? May I not rest in the servant’s quarters?” 
“You must be closer to the queen,” his lip trembles. He raises his chin and looks away. When his eyes meet yours again, he puts his hands on your shoulders, “rest your head, mouse, you’ve come very far. You’ve earned it.” 
You look at him. You know he isn’t saying all he could. He can’t. You put your hands on his arms and squeeze.  
“I’ll try,” you affirm, “thank you, sir. I am very tired.” 
“Yes, mouse, sleep,” he pulls away. 
“Good night, sir.” 
He hesitates, “good night.” 
He turns stiffly and marches off. You step into the staircase as his shadow disappears and you pull the door shut. You look up, climbing step by step, legs shaking as you get higher and higher. You reach the top step and another door. 
You push the handle down and the lever rises on the other side. You enter the chamber to find it empty. You stand at the threshold and turn, searching for any shadow, any shimmer in the low light of the fireplace. It’s only you. 
You breathe and turn to look down the staircase. You listen. Nothing but the winds battering the walls without. You close the door and slowly wade into the warmth of the room. The windows are hung in heavy curtains and there is a tray waiting on the table. An ewer, cups, a plate heaping with delights. You aren’t hungry for any of it, you’re too uneasy. 
You unbuckle the cloak and drag it from your shoulders. You turn it over your arm and feel the patch sewn into the lining, examining the wolf’s yellow eyes. He’d marked you and you never even knew it. You fold the heavy length over a chair and back away. 
You untie your cap and unveil the short shanks of hair jutting out from your scalp. You haven’t had a chance to shear your unruly locks before they could get too long. You fold the cap and put it on the bed. You remove your apron then your dress and leave them with your cap. 
You take a pillow and a blanket from the mattress and bring them down to the bench at the end of the bed. You fit yourself onto the hardwood and watch the fire’s light pulse on the stone wall. Your eyes glimmer with tears, turning your vision to speckled hues. 
It’s all so nice, too nice for you, and knowing why you’ve come upon it, turns it sour. It is not kindness, there is expectation attached to such generosity. You should’ve known. You did. You were just too stupid to see it, just as the queen always said. 
You twit. 
You close your eyes and pull the blanket to your chin. You embrace the warmth, your one comfort left. There’s a long road that awaits you still. Not only through the Hinterlands but another, more treacherous path. One you never meant to stumble upon. 
Your body weakens, succumbing to your fatigue, overtaking your wrought mind. Your eyes roll back behind their lids and your breath peters out. Sleep enshrines you as blackness eclipses the orange haze of the chamber. 
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luveline · 3 hours
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hiii! i adore you jade so much and can’t thank you enough for all your amazing writing! your fics are incredible! can i have more reader and hotch with their new baby? maybe their night routine takeing care of their newborn? or literally just anything i just love the way you write hotch taking care of both babe and reader! thank you!! xoxo🤍🤍🤍
thank you for your request! fem
“Ready?” Jack asks.
“No. No, no, no!” you cry, giggles slipping through your facade as Jack pelts himself full force from the end of your bed to the pillows where you’re curled. You put your arms out just in time to avoid getting them snapped, catching Jack, and feeling the brunt of his face as he lands on your chest. “Oh! You broke me, Jack. I’m broken!”
“You’re not broken,” Jack says breathlessly, wrapping his arms around your neck.
“You better not be breaking your stepmom, Jackers,” Hotch says from the bathroom. “I’m not getting you another one.”
“Boo!” you say.
“I don’t want another one,” Jack declares, still gasping for breath as he presses your faces together.
You pull him in for a cuddle. “Good, baby, I love you too much to be replaced. And I don’t mind dad either.”
“Jack, you gotta stop jumping on her, remember? She just had a baby. It really hurts to have a baby, and it hurts afterwards to get better. Gentle hands,” Hotch says, pulling the bathroom door open completely, the baby bathed and changed in his arms.
Hotch has cared for a baby before, so while you’re not useless, the majority of things have defaulted to him while you recover. You’re lucky, even if it’s how a woman should be treated —Hotch hasn’t made you get up once since you came home almost a week ago. He’s forced you to sit down a few times, actually. And you’d told him how thankful you were for it in whispers only yesterday night, grateful to be cared for with so much dedication.
I should've been better, for Haley, he’d whispered back. She was amazing all by herself when she didn’t need to be. You’ll be amazing too, but we’re gonna do it together.
Maybe he’s overcompensating for past regrets, maybe he’s just looking after you.
Jack strokes your cheek with a little hand. “Sorry. I don’t want to break you.”
“You won’t.” You lean back and attempt to bring him in with you, but Jack won’t be contained.
He springs down off of the bed to crowd Hotch’s legs, face up and smiling. “Dad, are you done?”
“I am.”
“Can you help with the robot now?”
“Yeah, yes. Sorry, I’m gonna fix your robot. You ready, honey?”
You open your arms eagerly. You’ve had a hug from Jack, and Hotch held you under his arm while you were eating your lunch, so all you need now for the trifecta is a cuddle with your baby. One day he’s gonna be able to hug you back, but for now he stretches out in the well of your arms and coos when you kiss his tiny forehead.
Hotch and Jack leave to fix their robot. You slink down, further and further, too tired and sore to want to sit, sliding the baby’s weight into one arm beside you and leaning down to watch him smack his lips. The few baths he’s had have made him tired each time. You feel sleepy just looking at him.
You’d hope that the baby will be handsome like his brother, though Jack looks so much like Haley they probably won’t be very similar. There are hints of Aaron in them both. Babies look like babies, sure, but he has the Hotchner nose. You can tell already.
“My handsome handsome boy,” you sing-song under your breath. He sniffles. You bring your pinky to his nose and give it a gentle touch. “Beautiful baby. I love you.” Your voice turns to sugar. “I love you, baby, you’re so beautiful, just like daddy.”
Footsteps creaking on the landing. You quieten without looking away from the baby, until you feel a familiar hand on your arm. “You okay?”
“Did you fix the robot?”
“Of course I did.” He leans down and in, lips and nose pressing to your arm. “Are you okay? You look tired.”
“I am tired. Maybe I’ll nap while he’s sleeping.”
“That’s a good idea. Give him a kiss and I’ll put him back in the crib.”
“No, no, can’t he stay?”
“You want me to stay here and watch you sleep?” he asks, laughing into your arm, pressing another kiss in a path toward your shoulder. “You can keep him until you fall asleep, okay? Then I’ll move him.”
“Will you do that thing to my cheek?” you ask quietly.
“If you tell me what you were saying before I walked in, yes.”
Hotch sits on the bed behind you where you’re sidled up to the baby, the back of his hand falling gently against your cheek, fingers curled and knuckles brushing the skin just shy of your eye one tender centimetre at a time. “Well?” he prompts.
You close your eyes with a contented smile. “Was just telling him he’s gorgeous.”
“Yeah?” He turns his hand, his pinky finger rubbing the delicate skin under your eye briefly, and the his palm flat to your face. His thumb takes up the guard. You feel fatigue pulling at you from the sheer comfort he offers, though you can manage a few more words, at least.
“He’s beautiful, he has his daddy’s nose.”
“I don’t think that’s what makes him so handsome.”
“No?” you mumble.
Hotch lets his face rest again on your arm. “No, that’s his mother. Couldn’t be anything else.”
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hii i love your writing especially the wandnat fics 😭 can i request a pt. 3 or just something with “the blip” universe where r wakes up after spending the night at her moms and when she doesn’t find them in their room she starts panicking and it takes her back to when they blipped (but they find her and help her thru it)
The blip | 3
Summary: Broken families take time to heal.
Pairing: WandaNat x daughter!reader
Warnings: some angst, panic attack-ish
Word count: 1283
a/n: I added some things, hope you don’t mind! I think I’m going to make a 4th part too🫢
Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @emsmultiverse @natashamaximoff69
masterlists | guidelines
Previous parts: part 1, part 2
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The little while Y/N was supposed to stay with her moms turned into a week, then two more, a month, and another one. However, Wanda and Natasha have not minded it at all, they’re over the moon to spend more time with their daughter.
They don’t live at their old apartment anymore, having decided it’d be too overwhelming for Y/N to go back there. Instead, they live in a house further away from the city and the noise. It has three bedrooms, one for guests, one for Wanda and Natasha, and one for Y/N.
It’s perfect for the three of them.
Of course, Natasha and Wanda aren’t pressuring Y/N into moving in with them permanently, which is why she is still paying rent on her crappy apartment, but their hope is high.
Y/N paces around in the living room, wearing her best clothes, which weren’t that good with her minimal income as she refused to let her mothers use too much money on her.
“She’ll be here soon.” Wanda sets her hand on Y/N’s shoulder, giving her a comforting smile. “You don’t need to worry.”
“I know, I just-“ she takes a breath, “I haven’t seen her since that day.”
Natasha steps inside the room. “She won’t blame you for that. She’ll understand why.”
Staying quiet, Y/N stares out of the window, waiting for a car to drive into their road. Her hands are shaking, so she keeps playing with the rings on her fingers. Wanda keeps staring at the rings with a small smile, happy to see her daughter wearing her old rings, but missing the times she used to play with her hands when nervous.
A black car with tinted windows drives to the front of the house. Kat’s breath hitches, seemingly unable to move before Natasha gives her a small nudge. “Go on.”
Y/N walks to the porch and down the few stairs on it, her moms behind her. Maria is standing by her car. “Hey, bug.” She has a smile on her face, but she looks afraid. Y/N is pretty sure she has never seen Maria afraid.
“Hi, aunt Maria.”
With that, Maria, who brides her ability to keep her emotions in check, starts crying.
Y/N’s eyes widen. It takes her a moment to react, but when she does so, she walks straight to Maria and hugs her. Her arms wrap around Maria’s neck, while the woman’s arms go around Y/N’s waist tightly.
They stare for a moment, both crying, before Maria pulls slightly away to wipe away the tears. “I’m so sorry, I really am.” She sniffles, moving her hands on Y/N’s cheeks to lift her head up to face her. “I’m sorry I left you alone in there.”
Y/N shakes her head, her lower lip quivering at her honorary aunt’s words. “It wasn’t your fault.” Her voice is quiet, almost a whisper.
Maria smiles, appreciating the words though she doesn’t fully believe them. One of her hands moves to the side of Y/N’s head, petting her hair softly. “You’re so grown now. You’re not fourteen anymore.”
“I’m not fourteen anymore.”
“You don’t need your aunt to guide you anymore.” Her voice is soft, but it has bitterness in it. She’s angry at the world, and herself, for missing out on the rest of Y/N’s teenage years.
“I do.” Her words are quick. “I need you, just like I still need my moms.” The last words come out quieter than the rest, just so Wanda and Natasha can’t hear her. It was always easier to reveal certain things to Maria rather than her moms.
Maria glances at the two other women patiently waiting for them by the porch. She gives them a smile. “Let’s go inside, yeah? we have all the tome in the world now.” Her hand rests on Y/N’s shoulders as she starts leading her towards the house.
Maria stayed in the Maximoff-Romanoff household until four in the morning. They spent all the hours catching up, though Y/N wasn’t too keen on talking about her life alone too much, but she shared the important details.
The clock strikes 12:30 when Y/N finally manages to wake up, still tired from staying up so late. It takes her 20 minutes to actually get out of bed.
She stands up, stretching her whole body and yawning, which causes her to get a short dizzy spell. With tired movements, she walks into the empty kitchen.
Y/N frowns, usually her moms are already up and making breakfast at this time. Her heart gets a heavy feeling, but she pushes it away, making her way to the main bedroom. She knocks on the door. When there’s no answer, she knocks again, harder this time.
“Mom? Mama?” She’s not afraid to call Wanda mama anymore.
Once again, no answer.
Her breathing picks up. This isn’t the blip, this isn’t the blip. She says the sentence over and over in her mind, but it’s getting swallowed by her panic. She opens the door and steps inside the empty bedroom, her dread growing by the second.
“Mom!” Y/N starts walking in and out of all the room, checking every possible nook and cranny. “Mama!” She quickly makes her way to the living room. Her shaky hands grab the remote control and turn on the television. The channels change quickly as she searches for the news channel.
Before she can fully try to listen to the news anchor, the front door opens. Her moms walking in, both of them holding grocery bags.
“Where were you?” Y/N shaky words make the two women set the bags down, frowns on their faces as they see the disheveled state their daughter is in. “I- I thought you were gone again. Why would you leave like that? You can’t just-“ the words are coming out quickly.
“Hey, hey,” Wanda sits on the couch, pulling Y/N right next to her, “we’re here and we’re okay.”
Natasha walks into the kitchen, picking up a note they wrote from the floor. It was taped to the fridge so Y/N would see the written We’re grocery shopping, will be back soon! easily. “I’m sorry, kрошка.” She sets the paper on the counter before joining the two on the couch. “The note fell.”
Y/N sniffles, trying to keep her sobs at bay while she fully leans into her mothers’ embrace. “I thought you left me again.”
“No, no.” Natasha and Wanda sandwich Y/N in their embrace. “We will never ever leave you again, and I know-“ Natasha continues talking before Y/N can say anything, “I know it’s hard to keep that promise, and it’ll take you time to fully trust us again. That’s okay. You just have to know, that we’ll do everything in our power to keep you and us safe.”
Y/N sniffles, her head in the crook of Wanda’s neck and her hand holding onto Natasha’s hand tightly. “Okay,” her voice is quiet as a whisper, “you won’t leave without telling again?”
“No, baby.” Wanda kisses the top of her head, keeping her face there, taking comfort in her scent even though it’s not as familiar. “We won’t leave without making sure you know exactly where we are.”
Y/N nods. She pulls away and rubs her eyes, clearing them from the tears. “What’d you get from the store?” She changes the subject, feeling slightly embarrassed of her panicked state.
Her moms make no comment of it, they go right into telling Y/N about their plan of the day to cook and bake together.
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IT'S HERE! WELCOME TO THE NAMI FIC THAT EVERYONE (literally just me) HAS BEEN WAITING FOR. I am being straight up when I say that writing this was: 87% vibing to Chappell Roan and singing along. And 13% actually writing. You can find my Flower Asks here, Hozier Asks here, and my Taylor Swift Asks here. You can find my masterlist here and my rules here. I also have a taglist now and you can find that here! And you can request here! Characters: Nami, Fem!Reader, Sanji (mentioned), Zoro, Straw Hats (mentioned) Pairings: Nami x Fem!Reader, Nami x Sanji (one-sided) TW: Comphet. There may be more but that's all I can think of. Tell me if there's more!
Good Luck, Babe!
.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.
There was one kind of relationship that killed people to be in. The will they, won’t they one where they don’t want to admit their feelings but know what they feel. It was one of the relationships you never wanted to be in and was annoying to see in the media. Why can’t the two just be together? Why all this back and forth? Just have them get together already and be done with it. It wasn’t that hard, right? Wrong. You were so wrong. So horrendously wrong that it was laughable. Because you, my dear girl, are in that exact situation.
You have been aware that you liked girls for a while. It was hard to admit at first but when you finally embraced it, everything seemed to fall into place. You didn’t beat yourself up for falling behind in love anymore. You didn’t wonder why it was so hard to be like everybody else and have that guy that they’re always showing you in books. You realized that you were comparing yourself in a way that you were never going to win. Anyway, you like girls. You knew that. You were great.
What was horrible about it was when the girl you liked was going through exactly what you went through before you realized. You were in love with Nami of the Straw Hat Pirates. The two of you met when Nami had tried to break into the military base in Shells Town to take the map of the Grand Line. Ever since then, you knew exactly what you felt toward her. You liked her. And eventually, that like turned into love.
You’re not too sure when it happened. Maybe it happened after everything with Arlong. You probably were in love with her much longer than that. But something about the events put everything into perspective for you. After you came to the realization, you did everything you could to show your affection toward the girl. You were ecstatic when she returned your affections as well.
There was only one problem. While you would outwardly tell people how much you felt toward the girl, she wouldn’t. Other people in the crew, mainly Zoro surprisingly, would ask you if you were in love with Nami. You would tell them, “With your whole heart.” You would think that Nami would reply the same with the way she acted toward you. When someone asked her, what did she say?
“Of course not. She’s just my best friend.” Cue the sound of your heart shattering.
It made you feel stupid. You were putting so much of yourself into a situation that was seemingly never going to work out for you. It was rigged from the beginning. And the person doing the rigging was exactly the person you wanted to be with. But if you asked Nami, she would say that nothing of the sort was happening. The way you treated each other was nothing more than the way friends would treat each other. It was enough to make you scoff.
There was one situation that stuck out with you the most. You were docked at a new island. You’d been docked there for a few hours but had yet to go out yourself. You were excited to take in the sights and see what all they had. While you were getting ready, a certain woman with orange hair walked into your room with a grin on her face, “Hey,” You gave her a smile and greeted her back. “You wanna go eat at this restaurant Luffy found? The others already ate so it would just be the two of us.”
The feeling of your heart racing came over you. You could feel your face heat up slightly, “Oh, really? Just the two of us?”
“Yeah, kind of like a date.” She stated casually. If only she knew the weight her words held in your mind. You were ecstatic at the thought of going out with only Nami. Maybe you could try and see where things would end.
You put on your best clothes. You put thought into what you wore and chose what perfume you would wear carefully. When you met up with Nami outside the ship, you could tell that she dressed up for the occasion as well. You smiled at each other before walking to the restaurant. You don’t know when it happened, but somehow, the two of you ended up walking hand in hand.
It didn’t take long to get there. The restaurant wasn’t too far from the docks. The two of you made yourself comfortable when you found a table You talked about whatever and anyone watching the scene couldn’t help but smile at the lightheartedness feel of the sight. A waitress walked up to your table with her own smile.
With a pen and pad in her hand, she greeted the both of you, “Well, don’t you two look pretty! Are you here for a date?”
Before you could even answer, Nami replied, “Oh, no, we’re just friends.” The smile fell off your face for a moment. Anyone watching the scene could see exactly how you felt for a fraction of a second. Not wanting to cause a scene though, you sucked it up.
“Yeah. Just friends,” You cast a glance at Nami. She was ignoring your look, focusing on the menu instead. You pursed your lips and went to look at what the place had to offer.
The awkwardness was very apparent. Everything after that felt a little strained between the two of you. That one moment had single-handedly ruined whatever moment you were having. You practically ate in silence. Only nodding and humming in response to whatever Nami had to say. You weren’t doing it to spite her. You were just hurt by the situation. You thought… Well, you guessed it didn’t matter now.
That was what you tried to tell yourself at least. When you finally left the restaurant, moments similar to the one in the restaurant swirled around in your head. You eventually came to a full stop before you could even get as far as five feet from the building. Nami noticed that you weren’t following her and stopped as well.
She turned to face you. There was confusion on her face, “What’s up?”
Honestly, you probably should say nothing. You should probably say that everything is fine and act like nothing happened. But you were so consumed by all the negative feelings that you couldn’t be silent anymore, “What are we doing, Nami?” The girl looked even more confused. You crossed your arms, “Come on. You know what I mean. What are we,” You motioned to the two of you, “Doing?”
“What do you mean?” Nami inquired.
A huff escaped you. You placed a hand on your forehead to keep your incoming headache at bay. You removed the hand and made eye contact with her, “We keep doing this back-and-forth thing. I show that I genuinely like you with words and actions. You reciprocate. You show that you may like me and then the moment someone mentions something about it, you immediately shut it down. Why? What’s so wrong about being with me?”
For a moment, there was a flash of panic on Nami’s face. Almost like she realized she let her expression slip, she morphed the expression into a blank one, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. There’s been no romantic feelings between us. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression but I don’t feel that way toward you.”
You couldn’t believe that she was trying to play dumb right now. If she had been honest with you, maybe you would’ve reacted better. Since she chose to lie, you didn’t really give yourself time to think of a better response than what you gave, “You have been giving me signs that you like me, Nami. Everything you do towards me has a hidden meaning behind it, and that face you’re making says everything,” Nami shifted slightly. It was clear that she was becoming uncomfortable. “What? Do you not want to admit it because you don’t want to like me?”
“Look, you’re obviously just reading the signals wrong. We’re just friends.” Nami tried to say.
Your eyes widened when you realized what it was, “Nami, do you not want to admit that you like girls?” There was silence. That was all the confirmation you needed. All the anger you felt previously faded away. You tried to be more understanding. You were in her situation at one point too. “There’s nothing wrong with liking girls. It doesn’t make you weird, it’s not something horrible. You’re not going to get in trouble for-”
“Stop,” Nami’s voice was stern. You immediately stopped talking. Looking into her eyes, you saw anger. But there was something else there. It was fear. “I don’t like you. I have never liked you. We are just friends. Get that through your head. I don’t like you and I don’t like girls. I like guys and I am very comfortable in my own sexuality.” Now that was something you doubted. You had never seen Nami show any interest in a man whatsoever. The only time was when she wanted to get something out of them. That’s why she let Sanji hang around her so much. He was head over heels in love with her and she could get whatever she wanted out of him.
Those were her final words. She continued to make her way to the Going Merry. Leaving you standing there, taking in all the stares of the people who had witnessed the situation. You shifted anxiously. You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t want to go back to the Going Merry with Nami like she was now. You didn’t want to stick around here because of how everyone was staring at you. You just walked off in a direction and hoped for the best.
Things were a bit rocky after that. It took a while before things went back to normal. You tried to keep your feelings at bay, trying not to show how much you cared for her since she was clearly not ready to admit that she liked you back. Even though she kept acting like she liked you still. Either way, you certainly weren’t going to force her to like you. It was ultimately her choice. You had nothing to do with it. No matter how much it hurt, you would respect her decision.
There was one thing you noticed after that conversation though. Nami went out of her way to show more attraction to men. She indulged Sanji more than usual. When the crew went out to a bar, she let men buy her drinks and would let them stick around, flirting with her. It always made you sick to your stomach to see it. That’s why you were standing in the corner of the bar, nursing a drink in your hand as you couldn’t take your eyes off Nami flirting with some random guy.
You took a deep breath and gulped down whatever was left in your drink. You barely registered the sound of someone sitting beside you in the booth. You only realized they were there when they spoke up, “Now that’s the look of a sad drunk.” It was Zoro. You barely even glanced over at him.
“I’m not drunk.”
“So you admit you’re sad?”
“… I didn’t say that,” You looked over at him to see that he was giving you an unbelieving look. He wasn’t going to push you to talk with him about it though. That’s not his style. He just drank down the better he had previously ordered. He didn’t have to do much to get you to talk. The alcohol and his quietness had broken you down, “I just don’t get it. She acts like she likes me back but doesn’t want to say she does when asked. I tell her that there’s nothing wrong with liking me or liking girls and then she forces herself to tolerate any man that comes in her direction. I just..,” You could feel yourself tearing up. “Why can’t it be me? Am I that bad?”
There was a moment of silence. Love was not Zoro’s forte, anyone could tell you that. He could tell you how to take down an opponent in seconds but you ask him a question about love? He would look at you like you’re stupid. Still, he tried his best, “It’s all her. There’s nothing you can do about it besides suck it up.” To anyone else, it would’ve sounded harsh. Over the time you’d spent together, you knew that this was his way of showing that he cared.
You grinned tearfully, “Thanks, Zoro,” He shrugged. You turned back to Nami to see that she was glancing at you. You felt like everything in the room froze. You sucked in a deep breath and stood up, “I think I’ve had enough drinks for tonight. I’m going back to the boat.”
“Don’t fall into the water,” He only said that because you were swaying slightly from the amount of drinks you had. You only waved him off, heading out of the bar and in the direction of the boat.
What you didn’t know was that you had someone following you. The only way you knew was when you heard a familiar voice call out to you, “Hey, are you okay?” You could tell it was Nami.
If you had been slightly more sober, you would’ve acted appropriately. You were not sober in the least. “Why would you care? I thought you didn’t like me like that.”
A sigh escaped Nami, “Are you still upset about that? That was months ago.”
“Yes, I’m still upset!” You swerved around to look at her. You had tears in your eyes and hurt was shown all over your face. “I have a right to be upset! I put my all into what I thought was something between us. You act like you feel the same. Then you pull the rug out from under me every time. Leaving me standing there feeling like a fucking idiot!”
“Listen, I’m sorry that you’re hurt,” Nami started. You scoffed at this, visibility rolling your eyes. “I didn’t mean to lead you on… I just don’t feel that way towards you.”
There was a moment of silence. You would think you were thinking about the correct thing to say. You weren’t. You were just trying to process the utter bullshit she was spewing at you. “No, you listen, Nami,” Nami was taken aback by your assertive tone. “I know that you feel some type of way about me. What it is, I honestly don’t know anymore because of how much you’ve deluded yourself into ignoring how you really feel.”
“Deluding myself?” Nami was starting to get upset now. “Why would I even do that? Be serious!”
“I am!” You exclaimed. “I have never been more serious than right now. You don’t feel comfortable about the fact that you like another girl so you are trying to force yourself to like whatever guy comes your way. I am done acting like you don’t know what you’re doing. Whatever you want to do is on you but the way you’re living right now is no way to live,” You sucked in a deep breath. You could feel the anger rising inside you. “I am done waiting for you to realize that you feel something toward me. You can go and be with whatever guy that throws themselves at you. Just know that one day, you’ll wake up and look back on everything we could’ve had, and I know that you’ll be beating yourself up over it. You’ll be laying in bed next to a man you forced yourself to be with, remembering this exact moment where I say this. I fucking told you so.” You walked away. You were done. You couldn’t do it anymore.
And you were right. Months and months in the future, Nami got together with Sanji. On the outside, the two were seemingly happy. They were together after the continuous pining from Sanji and the resistance of Nami. You were a bit bitter about it at first but forced yourself to move on. You wanted to be with someone who wouldn’t be ashamed to say they loved you and Nami wasn’t going to do that. She could do whatever she wanted.
Unfortunately, her decision led her to lie in bed beside a man she didn’t love. She could recall only one moment as she stared at the ceiling with tears in her eyes.
“I fucking told you so.”
.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.
Taglist: @3v37773
If this felt personal, it was 😂. Hashtag been Nami before ✌️.
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desideriumwriter · 2 days
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hi! i saw you opened your requests and i have one :) i love fred, and i love angst even more. however, most of the angsty fred fics rotate around his death, which yes, it definitely hurts, but i'm looking for something else. i'm a sucker for unrequited love, maybe the reader could be pining after fred and he doesn't reciprocate the feelings or something along those lines. the only particular i'd like is hufflepuff!reader, other than that it's all up to you.
i love love love your writing, thank you in advance 💖💖💖
YES god yes, we all know i'll be on my hands and knees for any sort of angst, plus i've been thinking of writing one of these for awhile now. anyways, i hope you enjoy this lil blurb <3
wc: 682
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“Something on your mind?” Fred’s voice ripped you from your daze as he began to walk beside you.
“Nope, nothing.” You shook your head reassuringly. Hoping he wouldn’t be able to see through your facade.
He did.
“Come on, you’ve been staring off into space.” He nudged you playfully, a small smile appeared on your face.
“Just thinking.” You shrugged and shook your head.
“Just thinking about what?” You mimicked your mumbled tone.
“It’s nothing!” You let out a breathy laugh, Fred stopped and stood in front of you.
“It’s something.” He grabbed your shoulders, his touch made it feel like there were fireworks bursting in your stomach.
“And you’re going to tell me.” He squeezed, tilting his chin down slightly to look you in the eyes. 
You sighed as you tried to decide if you should tell him the truth or come up with a lie he wouldn’t believe. It was a shitty shot in the dark, and you were going to take it.
“You.” The word came out muttered, yet Fred was still able to catch it.
“Me? Why me?” He smirked, removing his hands from your shoulders and crossing them over his chest.
"Because you're funny, and you know how to get me out of a mood." You fiddled with your yellow tie, not knowing what to do with your hands. “And you’re super smart and talented, you know how to make all these insane potions, you don’t care how others see you or if you get in trouble,” Your eyes darted around, looking everywhere but his face. You didn’t know where you were trying to go with this, but you continued on. 
“You’re charismatic and super handsome.” You sighed, you should quit talking now and cut this conversation short.
“And I just really like you Fred…I’m in love with you.” You scoffed in disbelief at yourself, by the time you were able to finally look at him, the smile had ranaway from his face. 
He said your name softly, pitfully. You both knew what was coming next.
“Look, I like you too. You’re a really great friend, you’re brilliant even.” He began, your gaze fell to the floor. 
You felt like an idiot, you felt humiliated.
You’ve been pining after him for so long, and now it feels like a moment of confidence has just ruined it all. You wanted to do so many things at this moment, you wanted to run, you wanted to kiss him, you wanted to slap yourself, you wanted to burst into tears.
Fred bit down on his bottom lip as his brows knit together, he was searching for the words.
“You’re talented and smart. And it’s kind of you to think of me like that, but...” He let out an awkward sigh, it felt like the ground was crumbling beneath your feet. 
 "I'm sorry, I just..I don't see you that way. I can’t say that I feel the same.” He gave you a tucked in smile.
A small, barely audible “oh” escaped past your lips. You nodded and tried to blink away the tears that were building up in your eyes.
It was quiet. So quiet and the look of sympathy on his face only made you feel worse.
“Well, uh, I better get going.” Your voice wavered, you tried your best to collect yourself. “I’ve got some papers to finish.” You sniffled and pushed past Fred, your steps speeding up as you walked down the corridor.
Fred called out your name once more, causing you to stop, you took a deep breath before you turned to face him.
“I really am. Sorry. I didn’t mean to lead you on.”
“No, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have misinterpreted our friendship.” You gave a weak smile through watery eyes, turning away and continuing down the corridor.
Fred stood there, rubbing the back of his neck in guilt as he watched you quickly escape. George came out of his hiding spot from behind one of the stone pillars, giving his brother a rough pat on the back.
“Congrats mate, you’ve broken her heart.”
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tell me what you thought!
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jordosprout · 11 hours
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Hello! I have a fic idea where the reader has a sensory meltdown and even though the others try to help they don't really know what to do but then Tech comes in with all the know-how on how to approach/help.
Maybe it could be taking place during the race Tech did and the reader gets overwhelmed by the sound and the heat and anxiety and Tech comes in for the rescue after the race ends, or maybe on a mission and Hunter asks Tech to take you aside/back to the marauder and tells him that they have it handled.
I think it'd be cool if Tech silently brought out sensory items and waited patiently with you and then opens up about how he has the same issue but maybe he usually shuts down instead or has a meltdown alone. Sorry I had a few ideas I wanted to share, hope this ask isn't too overwhelming! <3
Alright, took me awhile but I finished your request! I ended up going with the race plot :) I apologize for the wait. I wanted to do my best to portray everything correctly.
Sprouting Within the Soul
Tech x GN!Reader SFW Comfort Fic (gender-neutral pronouns used, little physical description.) (Can be read as platonic)
Reader is a phytotoxin specialist and becomes a clone medic. Story takes place on Safa Toma where Tech comforts them during an autistic meltdown.
Warnings: Talk of overstimulation, stimming, meltdowns, and gentle praise.
Notes: Phytotoxin- plant poison. I'm still getting used to Tumblr so no fancy dividers yet :,) I am working on making some for personal use
WC: 3,955
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Setting up readers' story, skip if wanted!
__
You didn’t enjoy medicine as much as you did vegetation. But the two interests mixed into a love for phytotoxin, and you found yourself as a specialist clone medic 2 months before you fled with Omega; working alongside her during that time. You grew deeply attached to the special little clone; knowing nothing could separate you.
She told you everything she could about the Clone Force 99; from their names all the way to their genetic mutations. And during one of those one-sided conversations, she told you about the inhibitor chips. This is what sparked your questions about the clones true purpose.
Your interactions with the boys themselves were brief. However, that would suddenly change.
Omega told you that she felt that Kamino was in danger, and you believed her immediately. It didn’t matter what it was that made her feel that way. You trusted Omega, and the thought of not knowing if she was safe scared you. You accompanied her, and her brothers, off-world; not a second guess in your mind.
Leaving the life you came accustomed to was hard. Especially when you were being so abruptly transitioned to a chaotic one. But the others, especially her brother Tech, did their best to ease you into the new life.
__
With Hunter and Echo being off on their own mission, it was just you Wrecker, Omega, and Tech today. A day you'd absorb every calm second you were given.
You were sitting beside Tech at the bar, him looking into poisonous plants for you.
You noticed that when he found out about your love for the subject, he took it personally. He took every moment he could to talk to you about the various flora of the universe. It wasn't a rare occurrence for him to share something you already knew. But that never mattered or annoyed you. You were just happy someone took part in your interests. Sometimes, he would tell you something that you surprisingly knew nothing of. Others, he would mention something you knew plenty about and you’d talk to him about it for hours.
It felt good having someone to talk to (or at) that clearly enjoyed it.
Just as he would offer you his ear, you would offer him yours. Always listening and enjoying whatever facts he had on his current interests. His passion for the things he knew made them all the more interesting. His voice and excitement would never get old to you.
Even though you felt seen by Tech, you still had moments of worrying you said something wrong. He never gave you a reason to think that you may have offended him, but you couldn’t help the anxiety. So you would often overexplain your intentions. He allowed you to say what you felt you needed to in order clear your intentions, and would then follow up in calm reassurance. He was always a source of calm patient energy, something you never got enough of.
You were tracing circles with your finger on the countertop; cheek resting on its cool surface. Omega and Wrecker were playing Balaans. Hearing them laugh and get competitive with each other made you smile.
But your day was swiftly stolen by a green Trandoshen. Cid, of course, had a last-minute mission for the four of you. You huffed to yourself, you just got comfortable watching Omega and Wrecker’s Mantell-Mix bet!
“Hey I heard that! Don't get sassy with me Bacta Bunny. I have a mission for you and you're taking it!” 
You scowled at the nickname, your reaction being noticed only by Omega, who looked at you briefly before looking at Cid. You found the nickname demeaning- as if all you were was the occasional medic the batch needed.
“Hunter and Echo aren't back from the other mission yet.” Omega told Cid, confused as to why they would do something without them.
“I would not call transporting 50 cases of nerf nuggets a ‘mission’. Nor is it a proper use of our skill set,” Tech added to Omega’s statement.
You rested your head into the palm of your hand, leaning into it, “Tech isn't wrong Cid. You're wasting what ya’ got. There are better uses of our skill y’know.”
“Yeah, well, your skill set will come in real useful on this one. Especially you, Muscles. You're gonna be my security crew.”
Your head lifted at that, “Hey now security for what? What did you do that requires security?”
Tech nodded in agreement, “We will require a more detailed briefing than that.”
“No time. The shuttle's waiting.” Cid dodged, already at the door. You disliked how secretive Cid was. Why couldn't she just tell you what you needed to know?
Wrecker tossed Omega her little helmet, and of course, Omega gave you all her usual wishful thinking.
“Maybe it'll be fun.”
“Heh, works for me.”
“Wrecker, you're saying that as if you're difficult to convince,” you bantered teasingly, you loved the big guy but you weren't wrong. He was easy to convince. He just grinned and gave you a mix of a laugh and grunt before following Omega.
You sat for a moment, wishing you could easily adapt the same way Wrecker and Omega did. But you couldn't help but feel anxious with the sudden change to your schedule.
Tech sighed and you gave him a small pat on the shoulder before jumping off your barstool.
It shouldn't be all that bad, should it?
__
As soon as your shuttle landed, you were met with muffled crowds and people. 
‘Just a little noise. I can handle this’
“I am beginning to understand the need for added security in a place like this.” Tech mentioned to the group, taking in the nature of the people around him.
“Safa Toma can be a little rough around the edges if you don't know what you're doing. But lucky for us I know my way around. And if things get dicey, that's where you come in.”
You looked at the back of Omega’s head once Cid said that last sentence. You weren't particularly fond of how much danger she was constantly in. Yes, she's a clone like her brothers. And clones were indeed made to fight. But she's only a kid and is already dealing with so much. You placed your left hand on her right shoulder, and she gave you two pats in response. Something she always did to let you know she'd be fine.
But once you exited the building, and were blasted with Safa Toma’s boiling sun and restless crowds, you felt like you were the one who might not be fine. You took a deep breath to ground yourself, but the air dried out your nose making you more uncomfortable. 
‘This shouldn't be a long mission. It's just security.’
The cheering got louder as you became surrounded by people, constantly getting bumped into. The machines on what appeared to be a race track flashed by directly in front of you, any loose hair you had whipped in the direction they flew towards; tickling your skin.
You stayed behind Omega and held your hands together, rubbing the flesh between your left hand’s pointer and thumb to soothe yourself.
“Whoa!” Omega was leaning on the rail, trying to take in everything happening on the track.
“It's called Riot Racing.” Cid said, clearly only talking to Omega.
One of the racers began shooting at an opponent ahead of it, resulting in the victim crashing into one of the walls. 
“Wow! Did you see that?” Wrecker excitedly asked Omega. You glanced at Tech whose eyes were wide behind his goggles.
‘Well if Omega didn't Tech definitely did.’
“It appears anything goes out there.” 
The PA system announcer began narrating the scene in front of all of you. Declaring the steal of the lead, that was apparently carried out by Cid’s racer.
__
You blindly followed Cid and the others after TAY-0’s win, falling slightly behind. You fixated on your hands, attempting to tune out the obnoxious droid in front of you. Any other day his quips would pull a small laugh from you. But the sun felt like it was getting hotter, and the crowd seemed louder and fuller. You didn't understand how Omega was handling it so well, she didn't have the climate-controlled armor her brothers did. 
‘If Omega can handle it then why can't I?’
“Your ringer is a droid?” Tech queried Cid, getting what would barely count as a real answer from the droid instead. 
“Oh, I'm so sorry. You have a problem with droids, human? You think you can make the split-second calculation to win out there? You want to challenge TAY-0?” the droid asked, defensively getting up in Tech's face. And of course, Tech gave little to no physical reaction.
“I do not have enough information about this sport to determine that at this time.” 
“Then take a seat, spectacled spectator.”
Okay, you held in a snort with that one. That was really clever.
Wrecker on the other hand was quite upfront with his reaction, repeating TAY-0 and bumping Tech. 
__
You sat against a wall as repairs were made to the droid's speeder. You chose to ignore what was going on for the time being. You weren't needed at the moment, so you should take advantage of that. You closed your eyes and pressed into the wall, trying to grasp all the peace you were given.
Which wasn't much apparently.
A large man found his way into the pit, three smaller men behind him. You stood after he greeted Cid, his tone making you realize he was the reason she needed security. And when he approached Omega you quickly made your way behind her next to Wrecker; all of your hands making their way to your designated blasters. 
“Not gonna introduce me to your new crew?”
‘Why’s that matter to him?’
He gave a hearty laugh, “They're not gonna help you win.”
Cid stood up to Millegi, looking much shorter than she already did in front of him. 
“Oh, I know I'm gonna win.”
After a few seconds of intimidation from Millegi, he offered a bet. It was frustrating how quickly Cid agreed. Of course, she'd take any chance she could to make some credits.
You spaced out for a moment before Cid insisted on hurrying up with the minor repairs. She was going to be much pushier now that credits were on the line. 
__
You paced behind the others, feeling restless now being back at the track. You looked up only for a moment when Wrecker returned, then back to the ground. You could feel your patience for today running low. You were rather surprised to hear Tech say he didn't know who'd win. But you knew he'd figure it out eventually, he always does.
But when TAY-0 took damage, and Millegi’s racer won the round, you knew Millegi wouldn't be far.
So you rushed to help collect the pieces of TAY-0 from the track and held your guard for when he'd eventually show up. 
And he did, of course, with Cid not having any credits to give him.
“Wanna step in here? I didn't bring you three for the company.” 
And with your cue, you put on your helmet and hovered a hand over your blaster. Millegi's men were quick to point their own at you. Of course, Omega spoke up, “Wait how much does she owe?” 
“More than you got, kid.”
“Well,” she paused for a moment, “we're not done yet.”
“Omega…” you whispered, “Don't. Stand down.”
“That's right. Looks like you're done to me.” 
“One last race. If you win, we pay you double.” 
You groaned into your helmet and shared looks between Tech and Wrecker. This could either go really well or really bad.
“If we win, we get Cid.”
“You don't know what you're getting into, kid.”
You followed in suit with the boys, Tech speaking up first, “I'm inclined to agree with him, Omega.”
“Yeah, I'm inclined too. We don't know anything about racing” Wrecker added, not at all slick about the confession.
“Omega this can very easily end very badly.” You told her worriedly
“They're gonna hurt Cid if we do nothing.”
You breathed in deeply through your nose. Omega was not one to lose determination. And you all knew that. You crossed your arms and stood behind her. If this is what she really wants to do, then you'll just have to stand with her.
“So we have a deal?”
“We race tomorrow. And I keep Cid as collateral.”
As his men collected Cid, Millegi gave a warning, “For your sakes, you better be able to pay up.”
You looked down at Omega, “I suppose that went well?”
__
After Omega spent some time on the speeder, you offered to take her place to get a break. She nodded and jumped down from the table, you taking her place. 
“Do we really need to fix him right away? He isn't exactly pleasant company,” you joked slightly.
“Well, he is already partially operational. So it is a bit late now. Speaking of, with a few more adjustments, he may be capable of racing.”
TAY-0 was basically summoned by your conversation, “Uh, that is hilarious. I am more than capable. I am ready to– Where are my arms and legs!?” You laughed to yourself and looked up to finish the repairs that were left on the speeder. TAY-0 was entertaining, but he's also just… a lot.
Wrecker came into the pit and dropped off the rest of TAY-0's parts.
“No, that's not how you connect the servo. Let TAY-0 instruct you how to do this properly.”
You grinned at Tech’s response. What can you say? You enjoyed his sass.
__
Nightfall came, and Safa Toma was finally quieter and cooler. But you still felt uneasy. All day has been dealing with people and TAY-0, and now you have to sleep in the pit. You tossed in your sleeping bag, Wrecker and Omega already sleeping beside each other. You covered your eyes with your forearm, hoping the pressure would help you sleep. 
You lifted it though when you heard rustling beside you. 
“Hey Tech, finished working on TAY-0?”
“Yes, he is fully operational for tomorrow's race.”
You nodded and yawned before turning on your side. The ground was hard and the sleeping bag didn’t help as much as it should.
“Problem?” Tech asked, now behind you.
“Oh, no Tech I’m alright. Just been a long day and I didn’t realize how long we would be here for. But I’m alright.”
He shuffled, likely laying down himself. You knew he could sleep just about anywhere, and honestly, it’s a skill you were a bit jealous of.
“I understand. I am not a fan of sudden plans myself, let alone ones with little explanation. I may be used to dealing with them, but they are still difficult.”
You smiled to yourself. “I’m sure we won’t be here too long.”
“Hopefully not”
__
You wished Cid would have prepared you for where you would be in some way. It felt like you were being cooked underneath your gear and it was miserable. Even when you stayed behind in the pit, there was still all of the noise and the fact you were somewhere completely new with no way to get away.
Two days in a row of dry heat. Two days of screaming. Two days of an obnoxious amount of people and tense interactions. And it was getting to you. Normally it wouldn’t bother you, or at the very least if it did you’d be able to get away from everything. But not being able to escape made it feel like you were suffocating. And as Omega and Wrecker cheered along with the crowd, you slipped away to find quiet.
It proved to be a harder task than you thought it would be, that in itself made you feel worse. But after struggling to find a place to rest, you gave up and decided a place with no people would be enough. You couldn’t help tearing off your helmet and gear, slamming it to the ground as you took your frustrations out on it. You slumped against the first sturdy object you found. The shade was minimal, but it was there. At least you were alone.
After a few minutes, you faintly heard Tech’s name being chanted. And after 5 more standard minutes went by, your comlink beeped. You ignored it, only for it to beep again. And when it did, you tore it off and threw it as far as you could. You couldn’t stand the noise. Or any noise at this point of your mental state.
You covered your ears and held your eyes shut, blocking out as much as you could.
__
Tech was surprised when he exited his speeder and you weren’t with Wrecker or Omega. And when he asked about your whereabouts, they were surprised too, worrying him even more.
“They were behind me!” Worry and defensiveness laced Wrecker’s tone. They both knew that Safa Toma wasn’t a safe planet for someone to go off by themselves. And after Tech commed you twice with no response, he was definitely certain something wasn’t right.
“I will be back, I am going to track the com signal and check in.”
“I wanna come too!” Omega pleaded with Tech, but he shook his head.
“Negative. We do not know the situation. If assistance is required, then you will be notified.”
Omega didn’t like the idea of not going with, but listened anyway. Wrecker keeping her occupied until Cid and Millegi showed up.
Following your com signal, he eventually found you. He was relieved to see you were safe.
“Ah there you are.” You didn’t respond. At first Tech thought you just didn’t hear him, so he tried again.
“Problem?”
You said nothing, instead shifting where you sat. He said it again. But again, there was nothing. He approached.
He saw all of your gear strewn about on the ground around you. Then took a moment to study your body language. Your hands were over your ears, and your eyes were tightly shut. You made yourself small where you sat.
‘Oh’
He looked around to try and see what he could do to change your surroundings, but when he couldn’t find anything he chose to sit beside you. Your eyes were still squeezed shut, moisture at their corners as you snapped your fingers. Your body couldn’t decide between refusing stimuli or letting it out. He remembered the one-time use earplugs he kept on him for Hunter (or for himself), taking them out of a pocket and placing them next to you. 
“Here,” he said softly, only saying what was necessary.
You grabbed them and placed them in your ears, taking in a shaky breath. You brought your knees to your face and pressed them into your eyes. Your hands were free to move about however they needed to. 
He chose that simply offering his presence until you expressed you needed him would be best. He knew that sometimes interacting with others during a meltdown was hard. At least, it was for him. He grabbed his data pad from one of his many pockets to occupy himself while he gave you time. He would be there when you were ready, no matter how long that might be. It would be a few minutes before you said anything or acknowledged him in any way.
“Did you win?”
He looked up at you, your cheek resting on your knee as you looked in the opposite direction of Tech. Your sudden break of silence caught him off guard.
“Of course, was there any doubt?” He asked back. You shook your head no and smiled to yourself before frowning again.
“Can you hug me?” you asked him quietly. He hummed in confirmation before lifting the arm closest to you. Turning around and seeing his arm open for you, you leaned into his side. He squeezed you gently, giving you the pressure you needed in that moment. 
You sat together, Tech finding his own comfort from the stress of the past two days with you. He rubbed your arm with his thumb before finding a strand of your hair to twist in his fingers. Breaking the silence when he felt you were ready.
“Why did you not say you were overstimulated?”
You rubbed the flesh between your thumb and finger, “I… I don’t know. I was embarrassed. Everyone else seemed fine and I was- am frustrated that I’m not. It bothers me.”
He looked down at you quizzically, “Why would you be embarrassed? It is completely normal to have different needs. Even clones are different from each other, in one way or another. It is expected.” He told you.
“I know that but it doesn’t feel like the kind of ‘different’ that just makes someone unique I guess. I feel weak, but I know I need to be strong for everybody.”
Tech was quiet for a moment to figure out the right thing to say. He knows how you’re feeling. He’s felt the same way. He took in a deep breath before he spoke, “Being autistic does not make you weak. The way you receive and process information in your brain is different. It is okay to allow yourself time for it to do that. I promise, it is okay to have these needs. I have them too.”
“You do?”
“I do. While I do not have meltdowns often, I frequently have shutdowns. That does not make me a less efficient soldier. Genetically modifying me to be autistic was not an accident. There are desirable traits in autistic people. For example, I have exceptional attention to detail. I have a strong memory that allows me to retain important information. I am loyal. Of course there is more. But I do not wish to come across as egotistical.”
You sat there with Tech’s words. You never thought about the fact that, perhaps, nothing was wrong with you. Just different. You looked up, looking just past Tech’s eyes but flicking to them slightly before asking, “What is there that is good about me?”
He quirked his usual half-smile and looked up into the sky, “For starters, you are empathetic, more so than some. While I am sure this may be difficult for you at times, it allows you to be more compassionate. You are honest and direct, making your transition into our force easier as you are too honest to be distrusted. You are passionate and determined. No matter how many times you fall, you get up and try a new approach. You are not only passionate with things, but with people. You have spent much time learning what our crew members like and dislike, and act accordingly. You are deeply passionate in your relationships and I admire that about you. I could continue if you would like.”
You shook your head, cheeks slightly warm at the praise you asked for.
You found yourself leaning deeper into Tech and he welcomed you. You loved that you were able to find comfort in the exceptional clone beside you. It felt good not having to be alone, and being not only understood but accepted. His armor cooled you but his presence warmed you to your core.
“Thank you Tech I-...I think I’m ready to go now.” You told him shifting away slightly to prep yourself to get up. He nodded and stood, offering a hand to help you to your feet. You smiled up at him softly, feeling something in your soul sprouting in his light.
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pencap · 6 months
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#sylvie speaks#(in the tags because this isn't a complete enough though to make a proper post out of)#(and i will probably delete it anyway)#i am having Thoughts about creating and sharing and credit#and what it means to be a creator on the internet#(as much as that term has become loaded now)#i have mostly accepted that i do not get to control what people do with my words once i post them in a public forum#i will ask and i will request and i will trust in the goodness of strangers#but there will always be some people acting in ignorance or malice#and really when it comes to things like gifsets and fics and such i am so so happy for people to use them#even if it's for a fandom/media/ship that i might personally dislike or find uncomfy or some such thing#because it inspired and someone found meaning in my words and that is. all i can ever really ask#and they tend to be well credited anyway#and even if they aren't i think most people recognize that the quotes probably came from someone else#i'm not even as upset about poems floating around wholesale uncredited#(i'd have a personal vendetta the size of the pacific ocean against pinterest if i did)#but when it becomes credited to someone else#or when someone else claims credit for it#that... that does upset me in ways i find hard to articulate#and takes me by surprise in its stark contrast to how little i care about the other kinds of usage#i think it's about ownership perhaps#it is one thing to let something go#it is another thing entire for someone else to take it for themselves#it is mine; or it was; and i don't mind sharing i really don't#you don't even have to say thank you or tell me you're using it or even say it's mine#(though i much much much prefer that you do)#but it feels deeply violating for someone else to slap their name on it#i am perhaps slightly more bitter about this than usual#bc i recently discovered another piece of blatant plagiarism#that isn't worth pursuing but it does make me sad
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alpinelogy · 1 month
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Okay since I feel like making some graphics so requests open:
Give me a title + tagline + anything else you feel like it (driver, team, vibes, colors, etc.) and I will make a movie poster style graphic with it
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burinazar · 2 months
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wondering how many more people in my circles i've accumulated enough Recommending-Things-To Credit to throw the hole show at them because i am dying for more sickos to show my things to
that 'write for an audience of thirty sickos' tweet is like aspirational to me because if i had that many (especially if a couple were like, Concrit-giving Sickos) i'd be really happy and not even slightly wish for a bigger audience. but it seems i can at most pull three-to-four sickos at a time and the prior sickos orbit away before new sickos come. Where Are My Thirty Sickos
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Winter's King 21
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: I am very tired.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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As promised, the king acquires you a full outfit to face the cold. A fur trimmed hat to replace your standard linen cap, a pair of lined hide gloves, and thick boots that go to your knees. He has bolstered you to face the elements but you are wholly unprepared to face the corridors as the glances of soldiers and servants meet you with a new glint of judgement.  
You wear the king’s cloak as before. You keep your head low under the hood as he walks ahead of you. It is a farce. A poorly acted charade. How naive you’d been for so long not see through it all. You were the perfect fool for an intent audience. 
You descend and come out to the west of the castle, through a door beneath a sharply peaked arch. The snow continues to heap over the land though the winds have relented. The king pauses as you emerge and reaches to take you by the wrist, as if he fears you might be lost in the powder. 
He walks you across the yard towards the stables built across a flat of land nestled along a curved rock wall. The doors creaks as he pushes through and the heat of braziers and horses’ bodies greets you within. Sniffs, snorts, and knickers rise in the air as you walk between the stalls. There is one in which a single horse resides, the rest crowded in pairs and trios. 
You look up at the steed’s dark snout, it’s eyes even bleaker as it snuffs out harshly. It’s nostrils flair at your approach and the king clicks his tongue at the beast. It raises its nose then shakes its head. It’s ebony iris fixates on you as its master touches its braided mane. 
“Roach,” you murmur into the dry air. 
“You remember,” he comments gently. 
“Yes,” you watch the horse as it watches you. It bows its head, nose coming close to yours, fuming hot breath around you. It sniffs the trim of your hood. 
“Let the animal see you,” the king advises. 
You bring your hands up and push back the hood, letting it hang over your shoulders. You stare at the dark eyes. Roach continues to twitch his nose in your direction then further dips his head, pressing against your chest. Uncertain, you bring your hands to touch his soft ears. 
“Ah,” the king sighs, “Roach is rarely partial to any but me. Even I receive a nip or too from the curmudgeon.” He chuckles and touches the horse’s thick neck. “others have nearly lost a finger and even sacrificed garment or two.” 
“A creature so volatile, he makes a good war horse?” 
“She,” he corrects you. 
“Oh, apologies.” 
“I doubt she minds,” he muses and pets her long nose as she raises her head. “She is restless. She would do good for the exercise.” 
He lowers his hand and unclasps the stall door. He pulls it out as you step out of the way. The horse clomps through, kicking impatiently as it blows through its lips. The king moves parallel to you and draws you before him. Before you or Roach can react, he has you aloft, urging you onto the horse’s unsaddled back. 
“Hold tight,” he girds and puts his hands to the horse’s shoulder, “come, Roach.” 
The horse starts and you press your hands to her back, clamping on with your thighs. You rock with her motion to keep from slipping. You duck with the mount as she bends through the door the king holds open. The winter snows dusts down on you as you emerge. 
The king drags his palm along the horse’s side and swings himself up with little effort. He sit behind you, Roach not missing a step or buckling at his ascent. He pulls you snug to him, tugging up your hood as the chill nips at your cheeks. He wraps his arms around you and clutches a swathe of the horse’s braids. He whistles and leans, guiding the horse away from the castle. 
“She is obedient,” you remark at her agile response. 
“I prefer mares for that reason,” he returns. You wonder if it is a quip meant for the queen or yourself. Perhaps both. “It isn’t very far, though the path is steep.” 
You nod and stare at the white expanse, a few jutting rocks pocking out above the carpet of snow, leafless branches reaching out here and there. The horse carries you to a ledge, narrow and treacherous, and you lean back into the King Geralt as the edge has you dizzy. He slips his hand beneath your cloak to squeeze your hip. 
“I have you, treasure, you needn’t fear,” he assures.” 
“Yes, your highness, thank you,” you touch his knuckles and shiver. 
“Sweet summer maid,” he purrs as he draws you snugger. “This winter is harsh but I will keep you warm.” 
You shudder and hang your head. For so much comfort as he offers, you find little. It isn’t only the snow which chills you. 
You ride on, the impact of hooves softened by the layers below, the air hollow and biting as it seeps beneath your hood. The sky ripples grey and seems to darken as you descend the curling path along the cliff’s edge. At once, you are plunged into thick blackness. 
The world levels out and the king shifts, sliding off the mount to land on his feet. You peek over your shoulder and see the grim light through the mouth of the cave. The king touches your leg and you turn, letting him help you from the height. Roach kicks and spits. 
The king frames your waist before he releases you. You listen to his steps as he moves through the dim. There’s is a scratch as he strikes flint and flame illuminates his shadow. He bends and takes something from the ground. He pauses and works with one hand, wrapping something around the thick stick. He lights the length of linen around the wood’s tip, a torch to see you along. 
“She will stay, she is not keen on confinement, especially underground,” he girds and removes his own cloak, draping it over the horses back, “the air enlivens me, I shouldn’t need that much.” 
He wears a leather coat, sewn of thick strips of black and studded with silver. He approaches you and bends his arm, offering it gallantly as a gentleman might with a lady. You hesitate and hook your arm through it, hugging his elbow as he leads you deeper, the torch flickering with each step. 
You enter a tunnel with rocky tendrils stretching from top to bottom, encased in layers of ice and frost. The flame illuminates the frozen layers. Deeper and deeper you go, quiet as your curiosity mingles with concern. Where are you going? 
Your boot slips on a slippery patch but the king keeps you upright. You thank him and bring your other arm across to steady yourself on his bicep. You feel his muscle bulging beneath. You do not doubt his promises. He will keep you safe. Down here, but you doubt what he might do without. 
He raises the torch as the air thins and you the cave opens up. You look around as the walls lay beyond the breadth of the torches glow. Your eyes are drawn by the icy fingers hanging from the ceiling. There is one close to you. You reach to touch its pointed tip. 
“Icicles,” the king says, “be careful of the thin ones, they might fall.” 
He moves the torch to show more, all around you, light fangs the line the cave, lining the edges. The flame sparkles on their eerie translucence. Then the king lowers the light and you look down beneath your feet. You’re stand on ice! 
“Your highness,” you instinctively pull yourself closer to him, your soles sliding as you try to walk further. 
“It will not break,” he assures you as he urges you on, “this cave never thaws, even in the warmer months. They call it the Moth’s Den.” He leads you across the ice and your eyes catch on the icicles, thick and thin, some pointed, some reach to touch the floor. You hear an odd hum, almost a buzz, and he sweeps the torch before you. 
You stop to gape at the wall before you. It looks soft and fluffy, almost like fur. Then you lean closer and see the wings. Pale silver moths, fluttering in place, clinging to the wall. Their fuzzy bodies line every morsel of the space. 
“Snow moths. Harmless creatures. Unlike their summer counterparts, the detest the light,” he extends his arm and a circle along the icy wall is sudden bare as the moths move to avoid the glare. “When I was a boy, I always wanted to have one as a pet. I could never get one past the entrance before it escaped and flew back to the depths.” 
You blink and lower your hand from his arm, though you stay hooked onto him, “I didn’t think this was your home.” 
“As a boy it was. At least, that’s how I saw it. My father, king of the day, sent me here to train with Lord Vesemir. As much to keep me out of trouble. I am not unaware of myself. I was not the best behaved. Vesemir took me in and he bides no mischief,” King Geralt explains, “though he does not rule without compassion. He taught me many things more than discipline. He taught me,” the king peers over at you, “that my heart should be heard just as plainly as my mind. If you do not balance them, then it will all topple.” 
You look back at him. Your chest aches deeply. Doesn’t he know you don’t have that privilege? Can he not see that you do not get that choice? Even for a king. 
You might never had cared for Lady Rezlyn and her gossip. You think it cruel and unkind. Often you wonder if she spoke less of others, if she might gain more friends. You never engaged much in Merinda’s whispers either. But you heard them and you know what becomes of mistresses. 
The other woman. That’s what you’ll become. A whore. A name to be spat. A figure to be avoided. A maid might be ignored but she neither favoured or despised. She just is. She has her purpose. A mistress only has the stain put upon her. The one who taints who my walk away, but she never will. 
“The ice becomes you, treasure. The cold it... pales to your beauty,” he smiles down at you. His gold eyes are vibrant and his fine features are even more admirable in the limn of the flame. 
He lifts his chin and takes steady steps away from the wall and leads you towards a jutting stone at the other end of the cavern. He bends to plant the torches base in the crevice at its foot. The torch leans but stands on its own. 
He faces you, untangling from your arm, and puts his hands on your shoulders, “I want to know what you think. Tell me. Do you like my homeland? Do you like the winter?” 
Your lips part and you glance up. Your eyes wander around the space and you turn your head. You raise your hands to touch the king’s leather gloves. 
“I think I do,” you answer. You can’t deny the beauty even if it is deadly. “I might think differently should I meet a bear or a wolf.” 
“It is why you must stay close, treasure, I would never let a beast get anywhere near,” he avows, “I refer to all beasts. Be it man or animal. You will always have me. You needn’t be afraid.” 
You lower your eyes. You can’t say the truth. He knows it but he refuses it. His is a king, he might bend even the world to his whim. You let your hands trails down his forearms. He drops his hands and takes yours. 
“Will you tell me more? About when you were a boy?” You ask, hoping to forget the present a little longer. You are intrigued to think of this man as just a child. It is a rather impossible concept. 
“Hm, well,” he lets go of you and moves around you. He comes behind you and presses himself to your back. He rocks you as he turns you to admire the cave, “I would come to these caves and talk to myself...” he laughs rockily, “you see, if you holler loud enough, your voice bounces back at you. Lord Vesemir, he is not always in the mind for conversation and horses can be just as finicky.” 
He continues to turn you with him. Even without his cloak, his warmth seeps into you. 
“And I would gather bouquets of frostwart and white willowrods for they are the closest to flowers that grow here. I would put the bunches all around, as if I was too be coronated. I was told every day I would be king and I wanted to be ready, but mostly, I’d pretend I was at tourney. I would have my practice sword and I would parry with the air. The air was not so mean as Vesemir with his jabs.” 
You listen, closing your eyes, trying to see it in your head. A white-haired boy with his golden eyes and flowers and swords. Now a man who’s marched through blood and dirt. How time changes more than the seasons, it transforms all. 
“What of you, maid? I want to know of you. When you were a child, did you frolic with the rabbits and the squirrels?” 
You go rigid. You try to pull away but he has you caught. You lean back and exhale heavily. 
“The life of a maid isn’t very interesting,” your murmur. 
“You were always a maid? Even when you were young?” 
“Always,” you affirm. “I emptied pots, brought Lord Dustan his boots, though at times, Lady Jazlene required a playmate...” 
He’s quiet at the mention of his wife. You feel the crack in your heart. Your nose is numb and tingling. 
“Yet, how did you become a maid? Before that, was there nothing?” He asks. 
“Please, your highness--” 
“I bid you call me by my name.” 
“Geralt,” you utter, “please, I beg you, I wouldn’t speak of before.” 
“Did you have parents? Siblings--” 
“None of it,” you hiss and elbow away from him, throwing your arms out to keep balance. You spin and shake your head, “please. My parents are dead. Long gone. And the memories I have of them are nothing more than that. They’ve only ever been dead to me.” 
He is taken aback, his face pale and cheeks tight, “treasure, forgive me, I only... I want to know everything of you--” 
“You know what I am. I am a maid. That is it. That is all I can ever be. I am not a lady, not a wife, not a queen,” you clap your hands together, the impact softened by your mittens, “you cannot make me anything different, king as you may be. I will only ever serve, and you will only ever command.” 
His lips part and he steps towards you, “that isn’t true.” 
“It’s what must be true,” you look to your feet, “might I make a request?” 
“Anything,” he says. 
“Take me back to the castle,” you raise your eyes.  
He nods solemnly and reaches for you, “as you wish.” 
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imaginethathaikyuu · 1 year
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I’m sorry but I have so many people ask for SPECIFICALLY MALEs/o and all you say is there is no need for pronouns but you do female. Bffr
what
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aceofspades-sml · 1 year
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Jomike rant because I can
Also because @gayspaceagebachelor I promised you my thoughts on this a while ago so here you go
Tw mention of religious trauma and maybe internalized homophobia (my Jojo is angsty what did you expect)
I put it under the cut cause boy I wrote way more than I was supposed to
They are definitely the cute/soft boy ship
Like you want happy and heartwarming vibes ? You go for them
Of course they have their hard times but to me they are the easiest ship to write pure fluff for
Bc in my opinion both of them are the absolute sweetest. Jojo is always pretty cheerful and optimistic while Mike is the kind of person who always has a smile on. Also both of their smiles are contagious so that's why
Also remember when I said they were both gay disasters but with an opposite energy let me elaborate
We all know that Jojo has been raised by nuns, right ? So I know it's like almost canon at this point but I'll say it again, he is really not comfortable with being gay
As in he was taught that it's bad, even though all his friend tell him it's not. He is fine with his friend being queer, but when it comes to himself and romance he loses all his self-confidence
So most of the time he is like so happy and cheerful because he doesn't think about it and when he actually starts thinking about it he'll most likely panic because he was taught loving guys is bad and he'll think he doesn't deserve people to love him
Okay I went a little far from the heartwarming stuff I talked about but I needed to establish that
So anyway my point was, Jojo being jojo will be pretty oblivious when it comes to love and yeah sometimes it's cute but sometimes it can get angsty
ANYWAY
Now onto Mike, I like picturing him as the guy who acts cool and flirty all the time. As in he'll always be joking/messing around and pretending to flirt with everyone, friends and strangers
Sells a lot of papes that way
"So hotshot anyone ever told you you have really pretty eyes"
"You better run."
Except our boy is actually an hopeless romantic inside so the second someone he likes flirts back he becomes completely useless. He will blush a lot, probably stutter and most likely say something stupid that he will overthink after
So um yeah they are chaotic disasters
Anyway now that's established let's get into their actual dynamic
Remember when I said one of my favorite tropes for them was mutual pinning ? I just think this one as a lot of potential because they are both pretty dumb and oblivious
Y'know the "A fell first and B fell harder trope ?" Yeah you can forget it Mike fell first and hard
One day he just looks at his best friend and realizes he is in love with him
Then he starts pinning like an absolute dumbass, at times he'll just stare into Jojo's eyes and get all flustered because he suddenly forgot how to speak
Don't wanna bring in the usual scene with one guy burrying his face in a pillow because how can I be so fucking dumb while another guy is just dying of laughter next to him but this happened at least once with Ike
Except Jojo doesn't even think much about it he'll just brush it off like it's normal
Takes a lot of time for them to stop being idiots
At first Jojo is super scared about dating so there is a lot of angst in the beginning
Meanwhile Mike will try his hardest to make Jojo understand he is loved and has the right to be happy
When Jojo starts getting more confident about it he goes back to his cheerful self. I think he would totally be the type of guy who makes flirty comments at his boyfriend all the time to mess with him
Actually it's more like Mike says something flirty to tease him -> Jojo answers something flirty because he knows exactly what he is doing -> at that point you have lost Mike he became a blushing mess
So sometimes he'll say something really cute in Spanish and Mike has no idea what it is but he understands the way Jojo said it so he gets all flustered
Jojo actually loves making Mike blush by saying he really likes him or stuff like that except at that point he is still scared of expressing his feelings out loud
Jojo is the shy/scared one so at first he is scared to hold hands in public or show any PDA in front of their friends
Also their first kiss omg-
Actually one day Mike just leaned in impulsively and brushed his lips past Jojo's but pulled away almost immediately because he got scared of how the other boy would react and he was pretty sure he had done smth stupid
They both stared at each other wide-eyed for a solid minute before actually leaning in again
Anyway it was really sweet and innocent because Mike could feel Jojo was kinda scared and inexperienced so he was very gentle
Ahem anyway-
But once again when he gains confidence he'll often try to be as close to Mike as he can
I picture them as really touchy bfs they would always be holding hands, brushing against each other's shoulder or cuddling
And when they are holding hands guess who starts blushing yeah it's Mike
He is really happy about it though because he gets to see his boyfriend happy and be the one who made him that happy
They are 100% the kind of couple who would always do romantic stuff like cute dates, looking at the stars or dancing together
Anyway think about them just grinning stupidly when they're around each other and ahjfhakjfhj
Ok I need to go but I might add to this post later with specific modern Era headcanons
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kakusu-shipping · 1 year
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mario and lou having their last dying kiss? would love some mariocest angst tbh..
Holy shit I woke up to SEVEN asks from this prompt list this morning hello?? Y'all really took my Mario Family threat seriously.
I'll try to get to every prompt in my ask box with a little fic or a drawing, except for this one. Sorry anon I know it's a prompt on the list but I don't do angst. It makes me sad fkgjkfdfg
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icequeen-07 · 2 years
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AUGH FINE I GIVE IN I’LL WRITE THE STUPID FLUFFY LAURA MAX ONESHOT THATS BEEN BUGGING ME
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sanguineterrain · 8 months
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how about Jason with the prompt "text me when you get home"? the one time they forget/fall asleep before sending the text and Jay loses hid mind. rushes over expecting them to be dead but they passed out on the couch as soon as they got home
really superbly SCRUMPTIOUS prompt Aud. I love protective jaybird 🥰‼️ thanks for sending something in 🫶
jason todd x gn!reader. worried protective snuggly jason. no warnings really, ya boy is just paranoid and madly in love with you 💓
request something! I rb all fics to @sanguinelibrary
****
As soon as you get out of your last class of the day, your phone rings.
You answer it, wedging the phone between your ear and shoulder as you fish in your bag for a couple of bills. You're already walking to the train station.
"Hi, snookie bear," you say into the phone, slightly delirious with hunger and sleep deprivation.
Jason snorts on the other end. "That's a new one. Hey, baby. Y'heading home?"
"Indeed I am."
"Need a ride?"
You wait and listen. Eventually, you hear the sounds of hitting and grunting in the background. You roll your eyes—only Jason would be in the middle of a fight and then ask if you need a ride home.
"No, I'm okay. It's not dark yet. Plus you sound busy."
"I'm never too busy for you," he says immediately. "And it's gonna get dark in an hour. Are you sure—"
"Yes, Jay," you say gently. "I'm sure. Don't worry about me. I'm going straight home."
You're already at the station. There's a good amount of people, students and workers alike. The university is in a relatively okay part of town, especially during the day. You're not worried. It's not like you traipse through Crime Alley on your downtime.
"Okay." Jason takes a deep breath. "Just—just be careful. Text me when you get home."
You note the hint of worry in his tone. Maybe this week has been particularly saturated with crime. Jason tends to get a little overbearing about your safety when he's had a tough week. You know he had go down to Blüdhaven and help his brother—with what specifically, you don't know.
Most of the time, you're sure you don't want to know.
"I always do," you say. The train pulls up to the station. "Ooh, train's here! I'll talk to you later. I'm thinking of ordering takeout. Too tired to cook."
"Okay, sweetheart. Be safe. Love you. Lock your door."
You roll your eyes fondly. "Yes, Jay. Love you too. Bye."
You hang up as you step onto the train. You pull your headphones out of your bag and shut your brain off during the ride. By the time you get off the train, you've lost hope that you'll be doing any work tonight. You're absolutely wiped out after three back-to-back classes.
It's still light when you get home. You lock the door after you get in, the habit ingrained into you, and dump your bag onto the couch.
Takeout is a no-go. You're hungry now and about thirty seconds away from passing out on the couch.
You change into your home clothes, eat a granola bar, and call it a day. You'll eat more later.
You turn off your phone to bar any annoying notifications and fall into bed, eyes closing immediately.
****
The sound of your deadbolt being teared off its chain wakes you up. You flinch and jump awake, trying to blink through sleep. Your mouth is dry from how hard you slept, and your eyesight is slightly blurry from the sudden flood of moisture.
Your bedroom door swings open, and suddenly you're pulled into warm, heavily muscled arms. You hug back on instinct; you'd know the feel of your boyfriend anywhere.
"Jay, h—"
"You didn't text," he says, voice shaking. "You said you would. I was—I thought you were—"
You tense, guilt knocking into you.
"Shit. Jason, I'm so sorry. I meant to, I was just so tired..."
Jason pulls back to look at you, hands still on your shoulders. His expression is stern.
"I'm gonna pick you up from now on. When are your late days?"
"Jay, no, GCU is across town. You can't possibly pick me up three days a week. That's too much! What about patrol?"
"Somebody else is out at this time," he says stonily. "Crime Alley can wait an hour while I get you home."
His eyes blaze green, a side effect of the Pit. You can tell he's putting every effort into keeping a lid on the worry and fear and anger over your silence.
"Jason." You cup his face. "Honey, I'm safe. I'm sorry I didn't text you. I'm sorry I worried you. But your adrenaline is spiked right now, Jay. Everything feels magnified. I don't need to be picked up. I was perfectly safe coming home. Okay?"
He shakes his head, holding your wrists. "Anything could've happened. I was so—fuck, baby, I was so scared. I-I checked the station footage and the traffic cams, and I didn't see you after you cut through the park, and I thought—I was sure you'd—"
Jason pulls your arms around his neck and buries his face into your shoulder. He supports you by the backs of your thighs, tugging you into his lap. Then he clings tight.
"Oh, Jay," you murmur, petting his curls. "I'm alright. This end of Gotham isn't so bad. And I know you'd have found me even if something had happened. But nothing did."
"Can't lose you," he chokes out.
"You won't lose me, honey," you say. "You keep me safe."
He trembles in your embrace. You kiss the shell of his ear and continue to pet his hair.
"Let me pick you up tomorrow, at least," he pleads. "We'll get dumplings at that place you like. You barely ate anything when you came home."
"Okay, Jay," you say, because you know he needs that reassurance. He won't relax without it. "That sounds good."
You keep stroking his hair. "Y'wanna order in now?"
"In a minute."
Jason lays you both down on the bed. He throws a leg over yours and pulls you into his chest. It's now that you see just how much tension is locked in his shoulders. He's exhausted.
"Jus' wanna hold you for a bit," he says, lips resting on your shoulder.
He's drowsy, the adrenaline finally ebbing. You close your eyes and snuggle into his arms.
"You can hold me for as long as you want," you say, threading your fingers with his. "I'm not going anywhere."
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tojirights · 2 months
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I'm sure we've all the "Alastor in a rut" fics but can I mix it up a little and request Alastor in a rut and so needy he's willing to give reader control?
a/n: omg baby's first rut, spawned by his attraction to you and he doesn't know how to get it to stop so he asks for help? :'))) i am def a subby person but every now and then i can write our mens being the needy ones 🩷
tags: 18+ smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, alastor cums a lot
you had an unexpected knock at your door late at night after you'd already gotten into bed, and at first you ignore it. then, it happens again. you groan and throw off the blanket, about to get up when alastor appears from the shadows next to your feet.
you go to scream, not even able to comprehend who or what is grabbing you in the darkness, but there's a hand covering your mouth before you can do so. there's also something... stiff hitting your back. you calm when you recognize the hand and you take a deep breath when he removes it. "what the hell alastor?" you whisper-yell, spinning around to face him. you barely recognize the demon standing in front of you.
he's disheveled, shuddering, and looks completely exhausted. he's in what you assume he sleeps in, which is an interesting looking robe. "al?" you frown, reaching out to touch him but he grabs your wrist before you can. "please, darling... for your own good, be careful with your next move..." even his voice is shaky. your eyes finally catch his, and you gasp when you see the deep, dark desire seeping through them.
“i need… need you.” he speaks, still breathless and you’re sure you’ve never heard something so sexy. your eyes widen, taking in the fact that alastor's cock is what was poking you when he grabbed you. alastor has barely said anything other than a quick casual sexual remark in your direction the entire time you've been here at the hotel, and now he's asking for your help.
"o-oh um... yes! i mean-" you speak way too fast, embarrassing yourself with how fast you're interested in 'helping' alastor. before you can say anything else, alastor's lips meet yours and you're instantly melting against him. he steps backwards until he's falling flat onto the bed, tugging you on top of him. your hips straddle his, and the friction against his cock has him arching into you. you swear he whines when you grind your hips, that you can feel his cock pulsing under the small layer of clothing.
you've heard of demons going into a rut, but you've never seen alastor acting quite like this. his hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his ears stand more alert. he physically looks... needy. and his breathy pants beneath you only spark your desire to help. you decide to push your luck just a little bit and interlock your fingers with his before pushing them above his head and holding them there while you rub against him.
alastor looks mad at first, that you dare try to pin him down, but the second he feels the sweet drag of your cunt over his barely clothed cock, he almost cums. "please." you're not sure alastor's ever begged for... anything before, but his pleas make your core pulse, heat pooling between your legs. "mmm, please what?" you smirk, watching frustration bubble up in his eyes. "please- i just... i need to be inside of you." he sighs, not putting up as much fuss as you thought.
you hold back a moan of your own, wanting to maintain some semblance of control over alastor, since you're sure this won't happen again. "ah~ good boy." you coo, again watching as something flashes in his eyes that's a mixture of anger and lust. "need you, darling." he pleads, grinding his aching erection against you. biting your lip, you tug off your shirt and wiggle your hips enough to slide down your sleep shorts. "make me cum." he gasps, giving into every carnal desire flooding his system.
as soon as the head of his cock presses against your pussy, he's trying to push you to take it all. "ah ah..." you warn, once more reaching to pin his hands above his head. "i will make you cum. don't move." your tone is strict, and alastor hates how much it makes his cock throb. he'll get you back for this brazen attitude at a later date...
for now, all he can think about is emptying every last drop of his seed deep within your sweet, wet cunt. after an agonizingly slow descent, you find yourself fully sat on his cock. alastor's eyes are shut, his chest heaving as every breath he's holding back the urge to cum. "hey al..." you whisper, leaning down so your nose touches his. alastor swallows, his hips wiggling ever so slightly. "y-yes darling?" he shudders, feeling every inch of your pussy squeezing around his leaking cock.
"cum as many times as you need..." the hitch in his breath is so audible, and all the tension in his body snaps like a twig. "you-" he gasps, legs spasming as he tries not to lose it just yet. "-don't know what you're getting yourself into." it's a warning, and you know that, but your cunt clenches at the idea of spending the rest of the night like this. "use me." you murmur, watching as alastor's eyes roll into the back of his head.
the groan that follows is primal, and you give in to his thrusts from below you. the force pushes you forward, your chest flat against his, every thrust upwards pushes more and more of his seed so deep inside of you. and even with his cock nuzzled deep against your cervix, the amount of cum seeps down his cock and covers your inner thighs.
you expect alastor to look worn out, but he looks even hungrier now. wasting little time, alastor flips the two of you so you're now under him. "now then..." he begins, his head slightly clearer now and he's not going to tolerate your behavior from earlier. "i think i like you beneath me a whole lot better, dear." you bite your lip and smile, mischief forming in your eyes. "i like this too."
the look in alastor's eyes tells you that you won't be getting any more sleep tonight.
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