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spaceman-earthgirl · 11 months

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Supercorptober 2023 Day 31: Spookycorp

It's been a busy month and I didn't get to do as many of these as I have in previous years but I've really missed writing supercorp and this month has been fun. I really appreciate all the support through likes and reblogs (and comments and kudos on ao3), I would not have written as many as I did without you guys.

Enjoy this final prompt (even if it is something silly) and thanks again for reading :)

ao3 fic link. series link.

---

Kara is dressed as a banana. And Lena thinks she might be in love.

“What do you think?” Kara asks, a stupidly beautiful grin on her face.

Yep, Lena’s definitely in love.

“I think you’re by far the brightest person in the room,” Lena comments. They both glance around and Lena is right, there are a range of different costumes around the room but Kara’s is, by far, the most eye-catching costume.

Kara grins again. “Alex bet me five sticky buns I wouldn’t wear this tonight, but guess who is going to have a delicious breakfast tomorrow morning?”

Lena’s not sure how one person can eat so much but there is no doubt in her mind that Kara will eat them all tomorrow. “I’m guessing you?”

Lena’s not sure how she does it, but Kara’s grin gets even brighter. She really is like the sun, bright and beautiful, drawing Lena in like no one else has before.

“It’s going to be so good,” Kara says. “She’ll also owe me a carton of ice cream if I can do five costume changes this evening.”

Lena takes a moment to process what Kara has said, thinking she’s heard her wrong. “You’re not going to wear this all night?”

“You think I’d come to a fancy party just dressed like a banana?”

“Honestly? Yeah. Somehow, this is very you,” Lena says, gesturing to Kara’s body.

“I don’t know what that means but I’m taking it as a compliment.”

Lena’s not quite sure what it means either. “You should. What other costumes do you have to wear?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Kara winks, and Lena’s knees go weak. “I better go, I have lots of outfits to wear tonight if I want that ice cream.”

---

The next time Lena sees Kara is not long later, but it takes her a moment to realise it’s her because she has in fact changed costume. Lena has to take a breath before she makes her way towards Kara.

“I see you’ve changed,” Lena says, trying to keep her eyes from the distracting view of Kara’s now bare legs. She’s wearing a skirt, but it’s a short one.

“What do you think?” Kara asks, swinging the tennis racket she’s holding up to rest of her shoulder. She’s dressed all in white. White shirt, white skirt, white shoes, and even white sweat bands around her wrists and forehead. “Think I’d make a good tennis player?”

Lena has to take another breath, because this is a look she never expected to see on Kara, but one she knows will now be burned in her brain.

“I’m not sure, maybe we should play some time and find out?”

Kara’s eyes light up, which Lena is pretty sure is just the competitive nature in her.

“Deal.”

---

Lena spots the Scooby-Doo costume from across the room, the head towering over most people, and she doesn’t need to get closer to know that it’s Kara.

“Why are you dressed like a dog?” Lena asks when she does get closer. Because how can she stay away from Kara? Even if she does look a little ridiculous right now.

She’s drawing attention from other partygoers, clearly not used to people like Kara. But that’s the rich for you.

“I’m not just any dog, I’m Scooby-Doo.”

Lena rolls her eyes. “I know, because you made me watch both of those movies.”

“This was part of Alex’s bet, I think she’s trying to embarrass me.”

That sounds exactly like Alex. Lena presses her lips together, trying not to laugh. “I think you look cute,” Lena comments. “But I think you made a cute tennis player and a cute banana too.”

The costume hides half of Kara’s face, but Lena’s pretty sure Kara is blushing. Or maybe she’s just hot from the full body suit.

---

Lena hadn’t realised it was something she’d wanted to see until the next outfit Kara appears in is a Supergirl costume.

Kara looks incredible. She has a similar build to Supergirl, so from a distance, no one could be blamed for mistaking her for Supergirl.

Actually, close up, she wouldn’t blame someone for confusing the two either. The blonde hair definitely helps, so do the sharp blue eyes that Lena finds herself lost in thought about far too often.

“What brings you here tonight, Supergirl?” Lena asks, eyes dropping of their own accord. Lena knows Kara is quite muscly under her usual blouses and sweaters, but it’s something else seeing her in a suit like this. Lena’s pretty sure the suit isn’t padded, that it’s all Kara.

Another short skirt isn’t helping Lena’s attention either.

“A Luthor party is always a target, I thought I should stop by to make sure everything was ok,” Kara smiles.

Lena’s actually surprised the real Supergirl hasn’t stopped by, she usually does to any L-Corp event. Most times, just a visit from her is enough to deter any possible threats.

Lena smiles, still playing along. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

“Anytime. I better check the perimeter, make sure there’s nothing I’ve missed. Have a good evening, Miss Luthor.”

“You too, Supergirl. Stay safe.”

Lena’s about to break character (though she’s technically playing herself) but she’s cut off when Kara floats off the ground and then disappears into the air, leaving a very surprised Lena in her wake.

---

Kara’s next costume is an angel, which goes well with Lena’s devil outfit (which consists of a black dress and horns on her head) but Lena can’t even admire that, not when her whole world has been rocked.

She wonders for a moment whether she’d just gotten the two confused, but there was no doubt in her mind before that she was talking to Kara.

Kara is Supergirl, and she’s not sure how she didn’t see it before, she’d even just thought about how similar they both look, and she still didn’t make the connection.

At least Kara’s hurried excuses to leave when they’re together make sense now but still, she’s smart, she should have figured it out.

Now here she is, not sure what to do with the information. Or she does. The answer is nothing, she’s not going to tell anyone. And she wants Kara to know she can trust her too.

(And part of her can’t help but wonder why Kara hasn’t told her yet. She thought they were friends. Thought they were best friends but it turns out Kara has been lying to her this whole time).

“Looks like you’ve won your carton of ice cream,” Lena says.

There’s no time like the present.

Kara frowns. “No, that’s only four.”

“No, that’s your fifth outfit.“ Lena holds up a fist, raising a finger as she counts each one. “Banana, dog, tennis player, angel and…”

Lena trails off, for a moment wondering if she should just keep quiet. But they’re alone near the food table, no one close enough to hear them. And she wants Kara to know that she knows.

Before Kara can cut in, Lena holds up her last finger. “And Supergirl makes five.”

Kara freezes, Lena can see her processing what she’s just said. Lena’s not sure what she’ll do if Kara denies it.

Kara glances around, voice quiet when she finally speaks. “How did you know it was me?”

Relief washes over Lena, she’s not sure what she would’ve done if Kara had denied it.

“The better question is, how did I not see it before? You don’t even wear a mask. But tonight I was watching the crowd, waiting for you to appear. I think I saw you before I realised what you were wearing.” Lena shakes her head. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it, you literally look the same.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, no one sees it.’

“But I’m your best friend, I should have known.”

“I think I should counter that with, you’re my best friend, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Kara reaches out, takes Lena’s hand. “I promise, it was me and not you. I trust you, I just didn’t know how to tell you with all the history between you and Supergirl. Or you and me, I guess. I just didn’t want to risk losing you.”

Lena squeezes Kara’s hand. “You’re never going to lose me, I promise. But no more secrets, okay?”

Lena feels like a bit of a hypocrite asking that, when she’s hiding a secret herself. But baby steps, she can work up to telling Kara she’s in love with her another time.

“No more secrets,” Kara nods. “I promise. After the party, do you want to come over? I can tell you everything.”

Lena swallows down the emotion that rises in her throat. “I’d like that.”

The moment lingers and Lena finds herself caught in blue eyes she’s often distracted by.

She breaks the moment, she has to, before she does something stupid. “So, tell me, if Supergirl wasn’t your fifth costume, then what is it?”

“You’re just going to have to wait and see. I still need that fifth costume change because I cannot tell Alex one of them was Supergirl and that’s how you found out or she’d kill me. She already thinks I’m not careful enough, next she’ll make me wear a mask or something.”

Lena laughs. “Your secret is safe with me.” She pauses. “All of them.” Kara needs to know she won’t tell anyone either.

Kara smiles, tangling their fingers together again. This time she doesn’t let go. “I know.”

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp fanfic #supercorptober2023

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nats-revival · 8 months

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𝙚𝙡 𝙦𝙪𝙚 𝙣𝙤 𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨𝙜𝙖, 𝙣𝙤 𝙜𝙖𝙣𝙖 | 𝙚. 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙢𝙨

pairing: ex-jailbird!ellie williams x ex-jailbird!afab!reader

tags: angsty, ellie is an asshole, between past and present (indicated with dates), ellie has issues, pet names (baby), description of violence, mild language, drug use, one use of y/n (i had to im SAWREE!!), idk what trope this is, but it’s certainly something, good ending, but i HATE it ugh, lowk wanna make an alt ending, but i might not. 🤷🏽‍♀️

a/n: the word ‘jailbird’ being used in this context is lowk cringey but who cares? ive been on a roll lately!!! (i still have reqs to finish) ellie fic speed run r smth idk. tbf, this is the longest fic ive written in a while. i considered making this like a series or something but i never finish those so.. ig this is like a rlly big fat oneshot??? idk.

p.s: for my pookie @sweetysaccharine who also got a sneak peek hehe. 🤭🤭

𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 | 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝟷𝟽𝚝𝚑, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟷

you stand infront of a burning car on a hill in the middle of the desert at nighttime. you and ellie had just stolen $20 thousand worth of diamonds at some high end store in the city where only the most wealthy of people live, and now you were destroying the evidence, burning your costumes and leaving the diamonds out for the coyotes. “ellie, i won’t wanna do this anymore.” she looks at you through the blazing fire with a slightly raised eyebrow. “do.. what?” she asks as she pushes her hands into her pockets. “commit crimes. i want to have a normal life. im tired of this. you’re always making me do crazy shit.” you explain, exaggerating a bit with your hands. “were felons, baby. there is no normal for us. you chose this life. but sure. let’s say hypothetically, you get this ‘normal life’. where will you work? at a grocery store?” “i don’t know.” “exactly. that’s the beauty of it all. we don’t know what comes next. we don’t know if the police will come after us again, do we?” “well.. no—“ “exactly. go out and buy some more fruit.” she begins walking off, leaving the burning car behind. “we don’t need anything else, ive already got what we need.” you say as you begin walking off into the opposite direction. sand crunches underneath your feet as you walk off, hood over your head and the nights cool wind brushing against the bits of exposed skin on your body.

𝙰𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗, 𝚃𝚇 | 𝙼𝚊𝚢 𝟾𝚝𝚑, 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟽 what were the odds of two felons who hate each others guts working together after escaping together? highly unlikely. but it was your reality. let’s start from the beginning, shall we? ellie had gotten.. waaay too many years to even count. she was charged with identity theft, armed assault, two counts of homicide, and possession of illegal firearms. what were you charged with? accessory to a robbery, armed robbery and you’d also had a few DUI’s. was how many years you’d gotten even mattered now? it didn’t. you were free. and freedom smelled great. but sometimes? freedom sucks. ellie was crazy. she was batshit crazy. she was the one who helped you escape prison. she knows a lot of people. like, a scary amount of people. lawyers, drug dealers, private doctors, the whole nine yards. how’d you escape? simple.

“the other girls are gonna start a riot. cause i told em to. you’re gonna sneak into the break room. there’s a window a few inches up from the floor. break the window and—“ she explained, making sure to keep her voice down. you were a bit wary of her little ‘plan’. “wait, won’t that set the alarm off?” you ask with a raised eyebrow. “lemme ask you a question. whats more worth it — freedom or a goddamn alarm?” “.. im guessing you want me to say freedom?” she nods, then patting your shoulder approvingly. “back to what i was saying, after you’ve broken the window, there’s someone waiting for you on the other side. the security cameras should be busted by then. ill follow you.” her confidence in her plans certainly amazed you. “don’t screw this up.” “i won’t.” “good. now.. why don’t you go read a book?” she suggested before walking off. she was strange, like really strange. sometimes ellie tended to say things that didn’t really make any sense. it was also a rumour that ellie had hallucinations. she’d just sit up in the middle of the night and talk to.. nobody, or she’d stare into the mirror talking to seemingly nobody. was that maybe why she’d been so crazy? because she was fighting her own demons? you didn’t know. the riot began. you heard them in the lunch room banging their trays against the metal tables, yelling at the prison guards and attacking some. you run away into the break room. there were metal bars against the windows. “how the hell am i gonna remove this?” you mumble to yourself as you look around. you search under tables like a madwoman, even searching the pockets of the coats suspended from the metal coat rack.

you heard angels sing once you find a toolbox hidden away underneath a bench. you look at the screws. you needed a flat looking screwdriver. you search the toolbox for one that loosely resembles the screws and you hurry to the window with a chair. standing on the chair, you quickly unscrew the screws and you pull the bars from the window. with the metal bars in hand, you smash the window, all the little glass pieces flying everywhere as the prison alarms go off simultaneously. you look back at the door to the break room. ellie would come, she valued her freedom more than anything in this world.

and with all the uncertainty in your body, you followed through. you jumped down into the parking lot while the alarms ring all throughout the prison. there had been someone else on the other side. a woman with curly hair and tan skin, driving some beat up blue honda. she was pretty. “cmon, hurry and get in. we’re gonna floor it as soon as ellie gets here.” she said, relatively calm as if she’d done this before. you hop into the backseat of her car anxiously. your leg shakes and you bite your nails. looking around at the security cameras, you found that they were, in fact not busted. “that goddamn liar!” she exclaimed as you hit your hands against your thighs. “you’re an idiot for trusting her. ellie never holds her word. she said she’d pay me back a year ago. she owes me $14,000 that she still won’t pay back.” the woman says as she looks at you through the mirror above her. you didn’t trust her. nobody did. but she was a good convincing person and an even better liar. while you were sitting in the back of the car, you recalled all the times she’d attempted to kill you. she gave you concussions, she stabbed you with makeshift knives, she got her minions to beat you half to death. what had you done in retaliation? well, you stabbed her, hung her from a bathroom stall with your sheets, wounded her badly and proceeded to shoot air into the major vein until her heart almost exploded out of her chest. the two have you had gone tit for tat for a while. but is it really an appropriate time to reminisce on old memories? not at all.

the sound of her shoes hitting the ground caught your attention. you look over and see her running towards the car, hopping in her front seat and slamming the door shut. “cmon, drive dina! step on it!” she demanded as she hits her hands against the dashboard. the woman, dina, steps on the gas. the gates of the prison had been closing slowly, leaving just enough room for the car to slither out. ellie cheers to herself. why was she cheering? ellie suddenly turns to you. “we have to get out of texas. dina here is gonna take us halfway to.. somewhere. ive already arranged a place for us to stay. if you screw up? ill strangle you with the hem of your shirt.” her tone falters between the lines of something serious and something a little playful. what was this? why were you doing this with her? you’d been royally screwed now if you weren’t before.

𝙰𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗, 𝚃𝚇 | 𝙼𝚊𝚢 𝟾𝚝𝚑, 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟽

you drove for hours on end while ellie sat in the front, blabbering about seemingly nothing. she sat in the front, smoking weed and changing the radio station until she settled on some sorta rock station. “ellie, do you realize how much you owe to me?” dina asks seriously as she takes the two of you through some sort of desert. “mm.. how much?” “14k. you owe me big time, ellie.” ellie laughs. she turns to you, whites of her eyes turning a light red colour. “can you believe her? me? owing her 14k? that’s insane.” she sat there laughing to herself. dinas iron clad grip on the steering wheel told you what you needed to know. she was fed up with ellies shit.

dina stops the car abruptly on the side of the sandy road. she turns to ellie with a face full of fury. “yknow, ive offered you enough. i said you can pay in installments. you didn’t pay. i gave you time. you still won’t pay. now im being complicit in your fucking prison break!” dina exclaimed. ellies laughing almost instantly stopped as dina raised her voice. “you don’t seem to understand how this works. i don’t owe anyone anything. the way ive paid you back was giving you a good fuck like you asked.” “ellie, i was as high as a kite when i said that! jesus christ, you really don’t listen do you?” you don’t intervene even though ellie is looking for you to do so. something you learned was to never fight battles that weren’t yours. this was between them.

they argued. a lot. going back and forth while ellie took super long drags of the joint between her fingers. dinas car reeks of the smell of weed. ellie wouldn’t take anything seriously until dina raises her hand to smack the daylights out of her. a ringing sound resonates throughout ellies ears as she looks at dina in shock. “why the fuck would you slap me?” “i.. i don’t know.” dina was shocked and you were equally as shocked. ellie opens the car door and she gets out. “get out the car.” she says to you, opening your door. “what, but we’re in the middle of the—“ “get out the fucking car!” ellie yells. you get out. “thanks for nothing. don’t call me again when your boyfriend can’t make you cum!” ellie yells at dina, flipping her off before grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you off into the sunset. you look back at dina and you see her with a look of shock on her face. as if now she regrets what she’d done.

𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 | 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝟷𝟾𝚝𝚑, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟷 after that day, dina hadn’t come around anymore. maybe because she was under investigation for helping you and ellie escape prison. you and ellie lived in a rv and it was pretty peaceful. she chilled on trying to kill you for a while. you sat outside in a beach chair, looking at the sunrise with a cup of tea.

she joins you, sitting in the chair right next to yours. she was smoking a cigarette. “i wanna do something with you. before that ‘normal life’ you want.” she said as she looked at you. “one last heist.” she exhales the smoke, the smell of tobacco entering your nose. “a heist? ellie, you know we can’t do that anymore. the police have our photos.. and fingerprints.” “they’ve had our photos and prints since 2017, baby.” those goddamn pet names that rolled off of her tongue made you a little weak in the knees. you hated her but you couldn’t hate her voice. “ellie, this isn’t a good idea. we need to think about this. the last time you tried to pull off a heist, you almost got arrested.” you tried to be the voice of reason in this ‘relationship’ (or lack therefore of.) “i hate doing this, ellie. i want a normal life. i wanna go home.” your voice was sad. “and what happens if you go back home? your parents will be happy to see you, naturally. someone could betray you. your mother, your brother. anyone.” her words hang in the air as she looks at you. she puts her cigarette out in the makeshift ashtray that sat on a small wooden table. “what do i always tell you?” you thought about it for a moment. ellie had lots of weird sayings. so you take a guess. “hate is the worlds strongest motivator?” she nods her head. “and what else?” “the person who doesn’t risk, cannot win? but quick question— what does that have to do with anything?” she gets up and she stands in front of you. she squats down to your eye level.

“you’re either one of two things in life. a fox or a rabbit. the fox will hunt the rabbit and won’t back down till it gets what it wants. the rabbit will run for its life so the fox doesn’t let the fox get it. who would you wanna be in life?” ellie had a strange way of looking at life. maybe when you’ve been locked up for so long, attempted to escape so many times and had some mental issues, your outlook on life changes drastically. her analogies always made you wonder how she’d even been able to look at life this way. when you don’t answer her question, she answers for you. “a fox. you wanna be a fox. right now? you’re being a rabbit. tighten the fuck up.” her hands give your thighs a few slaps as she spoke. they were a bit hard but not hard enough to leave marks. after your little talk, she goes back into the rv.

you’re sat there with a racing mind and a swell of emotions. the once warm tea had gone cold. whatever she’d been planning to do on this heist must’ve boosted her head up enough to the point where she could go around, telling people to tighten the fuck up. you resented her heavily. ellie wasn’t a hard person to hate. well, maybe a better word is loathe. she was a terrible person with no moral compass. she didn’t care about anyone else but herself. and maybe she’d been going through things on her own, but she had multiple options to get help. she lived knowing that she’d survive, and only would be at the top of the food chain. as if.

𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 | 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝟷𝟾𝚝𝚑, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟷

ellie still wanted your help. she tried everything to convince you. a share of her earnings. a 60/40 share (you having 60%, leaving the other 40% to her.) but you don’t budge. she needed to think, her brain wasn’t functioning well at finding a different approach. maybe she could just let you go with that ‘normal life’ you’ve always wanted. but this wasn’t something she could just easily do alone. it was much bigger than that. and she also couldn’t threaten you cause then you’d definitely run away. ellie couldn’t remember the last time she’d been kind to someone. she’d been met with a harsh response to anything she’d ever done in life, so she projected her issues onto other people. maybe it wasn’t the best coping mechanism, but she felt like she had nothing to lose.

she approaches you slowly. “we should talk.” she mumbled. “about.. what?” you ask. “the heist.” “ellie, no—“ “just hear me out please.” she takes a breath before she starts talking. “i swear we won’t get caught. and if we do miraculously, ill take the blame. you can say i kidnapped you or something.” “why are you do adamant about doing this? do you even have a reason?” ellie slowly shakes her head. she sits next to you. her hands fall in her lap as she twiddled with her fingers. “yknow, i don’t really know. i just get these urges to do these things that don’t really make sense.” her tone was genuine, but you werent sure. ellie had a tendency to guilt trip you into doing things that you really didn’t wanna do all because you were the only person she had left and nobody else would do this for her. of course you knew what she was going through, albeit you didn’t understand on a personal level as she had because she was living with this everyday.

you saw all her pill bottles — some SSRI’s, something for her hallucinations, and some other stuff with scratched off labels. “ellie, i really hope you’re not trying to guilt trip me into doing this heist with you.” a part of you was fed up with her shit, just like dina had been. but another part of you wanted to be there for her (even though she didn’t open up), and you also like liked her a little. not too much. “of course this isn’t me guilt tripping you. in fact, you don’t even have to worry about it.” she turns to you and she smiles. it felt weird seeing her smile. with all that serotonin she got from the SSRI’s, she didn’t really ever smile. you didn’t put too much thought into it. you just hoped she wouldn’t do anything impulsive.

𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 | 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝟷𝟿𝚝𝚑, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟷

ellie was up early the next morning. it was six something. she was pacing around outside while she was biting her nails. she was nervous or anxious about something. sometimes you wished you you’d be in ellies brain when she was being like this or being way too brief with her explanations when there was clearly something up with her.

what was she thinking about now? well, you. she was thinking about you. how long you’d put up with her, how long you’d live. stuff like that. there’s only one certainty in life — death. everyone inevitably dies one day even though they may not wanna. ellie planned on dying on her own terms. something else ellie thinks about often was her life before all this. she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her dad. she missed him. she also missed dina. ellie had dated a few people in the past, some girl named cat and dina. they didn’t end up really working out together because of ellies impulsive nature, but they stayed friends until.. the incident when dina slapped ellie.

in her own way, ellie wanted her old life back as did you. she wanted to wake up to the smell of joels coffee and dinas sleeping form in her bed, all that pretty curly hair sprawled over her pillow. but she knew what she was doing when she made this decision. she knew what she was doing when she decided to steal the identity of some rich lawyer so she could withdrawal all their money for herself. she knew what she was doing when she’d went to that very same lawyers office with an unregistered pistol, robbing them and leaving them with practically nothing. this couldn’t have happened coincidentally. she wanted her old brain back. the one that didn’t have violent and impulsive thoughts. the one that didn’t keep replaying her heinous crimes.

“you’re a mess.” ellie looks up. she sees herself wearing her prison uniform. her hair was much longer then (she’d cut most of it off.) “don’t tell me that. you’re a mess too.” she says to herself. “you want this heist so bad, then do it yourself. it’s nothing you can’t handle.” the split image of ellie was pushing her hands into her pockets and looking at the trees around her. “what’s stopping you?” “you know the answer to that question.” “i don’t. tell me ellie, what’s stopping you?” “y/n.”

as she says that, she hears your footfall behind her. she looks back at you and then back to where the other copy of herself had been. the other ellie was gone. you approach her slowly. “who were you talking to?” you ask, offering her a glass of orange juice that you’d made. “nobody. and uh, the heist.. it’s off.” she muttered as she takes a sip of the orange juice, quenching a thirst she didn’t know she had. “oh, well, that’s good.” you nod in approval. “im sorry.” ellie said it loud enough for your ears only. “i fucked up big time. i know i did. im sorry for putting you through this. im so sorry.” ellie almost never apologized for anything. your face flashes with multiple emotions at once, not sure which one you should feel right now. “it’s.. okay. it’s gonna take me some time to forgive you, but id like to try.” ellie turns to you once you finish speaking and she gives you a firm pat on the shoulder before heading towards the rv.

you felt yourself smiling a bit. you always knew she could do it. you just had to wait for her.

#wlfabby #tlou #the last of us #the last of us two #the last of us part two #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie williams x female!reader #ellie williams x afab!reader #tlou x reader #reader insert

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blackkatmagic · 4 months

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First of all, I don’t remember the comment I left that made you so upset. I’m sorry for it, and for leaving the stupid comments about Obi-Wan teaching Tallisibeth, and about goggles. I know I probably deserve the block I got because I was stupid. Please hear me out. When I left those comments, I was obsessed and in love with Footprints. I just loved everything about it. The atmosphere, the detail in each character having a personality and how they interact with each other. How those interactions changed over time. The twist ending of how the 'monster' was actually Aram Acheron, and he had been lost this whole time because of Sidious. I still think of Footprints as a good read, and I have read it multiple times. I actually consider it the gold standard of how to write Agen. Also, I want to thank you for giving me the push I needed to start writing SW fics. Without your suggestion that I write the idea I came up with as a fic myself, I would have never started my Time Travel Fix It series. And now I have tons of ideas about future SW fics that would’ve stayed in my mind and never would’ve been written down if you didn’t give me that first push.

I honestly don't remember your comments, but footprints is a fic I get a lot of shitty comments on, so I tend to block preemptively on it when I get weird reviews or comments I think are trolls. If you want to DM me your AO3 username, or leave it as an anon ask, I'm happy to unblock you.

That said, I'm incredibly delighted that you started writing SW fics! That's completely awesome, and it's such a fun sandbox to play in, with so many opportunities for fun plots. I hope they come to you at exactly the speed that is inspiring rather than overwhelming. ^^

#kat answers

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klausinamarink · 4 months

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writers 20 questions

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

45 at the moment! I have a few more wips to post on the way so the number is going to go higher

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

130,657

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Stranger Things. I’m looking to branch to other fandoms though like The Locked Tomb in the future

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Standup, You’re Never Too Much, Recapturing the Sunset, Just Another Flesh Wound, One Kid Gone, Another Up and Vanished

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes!! But not always as sometimes I immediately forget to reply and when I do, it’s a few weeks or a month later skkshdk forgive me

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

Biting Back in Anger. It’s Eddie having a bad day and blowing up at Steve, who leaves trying not to cry :)

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

uhhh most of my fics have happy endings but I think I can nominate The Tinsel Tradition. It has Steve, Eddie, and Robin building a home together in NYC, healed and happy in every queer way!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

nope, thank god

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

I’ve been writing more smut recently and exploring some areas. I’m honestly gotten more comfortable though it’s still a challenge to get the right words without coming off as awkward lmao. but that’s Phil’s (@theheadlessphilosopher) job 🫶💜

10. Do you write crossovers?

I’m more of a fusion au writer who borrows the setting and elements and places my blorbos in there than a straight-up crossover. Unless that counts as a crossover? Those two terms are kinds confusing sometimes..

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

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

There are a couple folks who played around this idea with me but nothing concrete. Though I guess Phil’s beta work can count because he writes better lines and scenarios than me

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

You’re asking me, a Steddie blog—

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

oof. I have a TLOU steddie wip based on resande’s sketches, but it’s looking unlikely to be done because the person looking it as my beta reader over got busy with other things and I’ve lost the writing juice 😔

16. What are your writing strengths?

Many people tell me that I am very visceral with my descriptions, esp with horror, and setting the tension is top-notch 🥰 (I am a freak who loves gore and blood tehehehehe)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I have too many ideas and a problem to actually write what I want that it comes off as juvenile to me. I also have a tendency to gloss over the editing of my fic which I’m trying to break out of.

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

I honestly don’t mind it at all. However, I do get taken right out of the story if the language is written literally (like kanji for Japanese, Cyrillic for Russian, etc.) and not romanized when the character is speaking because that’s not how it works

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Warrior Cats. We all started our writing careers from that series at some point in middle school lol

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Noooo, I can’t pick favourites- I love them all equally. But FINE, I’ll say it would be When Life Gives You Pickles, Make It Into Soup. I wrote this as mostly self-indulgent because I LOVE pickle soup and is the best comfort food of all time. I think anyone making soup in general for their significant other if PEAK relationship goals because who doesn’t love soup?? Of course I had to Steddie-ify it

thanks to Devon for tagging me! Tagging others with no pressure: @thefreakandthehair @pearynice @3minsover @penny00dreadful @chaosgremlinmunson

@cranberrymoons @dies-somniator

#tagging games

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seeingivy · 2 months

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hii ronnie i’m usually a silent reader (ig my introverted-ness transcends realms) but i had to tell you that i love love love your writing sm!!! i have to split this up to really encapsulate my experience on your blog 🙂‍↕️

my first ever interaction with your blog was when your taylor as gojo post came up— specifically king of my heart and speak now … although you’re losing me has to be one of my faves. reading the series as it came out, it was actually mind boggling to me when i realized you also wrote family rules!!

when bsfob sukuna came out i HAD to read it… are u crazy.. i think i’m most attached to him since i now was so active (reading wise) on your blog and really enjoyed each chapter (might’ve shed a tear here and there) the intricacies of everyone’s relationships and their love … im gonna sob.

now.. onto the past THREE days ! i always saw your posts for method acting but never really got around to it, that is, until this week. i started reading it out of wanting a multi-part story and that i knew i’d love your writing as i have so many times before. when i started method acting.. i couldn’t even put my phone down and stayed up the whole night reading half the story and sobbing every chapter (probably beginning at sick with sadness like everyone..) i had never been so hooked at the ending of “historic wins” like wdym they don’t get married and adopt a cat named gerald immediately … WHAT DO YOU MEAN ..this is SICK work. anyways i finished the rest of method acting within the next two days (much to my dismay…) and now im writing this ! i have NOT been the same i don’t think i’ve been so emotional in a while

im so excited to see what you have in store for dream girl, coffee toji and anything else !!! pls don’t ever feel bad about your writing i swear there are too many of us that WILL gobble up anything you throw at us

side note cause i didn’t get to mention him— casual suguru you will ALWAYS be famous 🫂

this whole post might’ve been spurred on by you saying you feel that taylor as gojo doesn’t do as well (interaction wise) and im here to tell You 🫵 to ALWAYS trust in tayppell as gojo anon and ME (and a bajillion others) to have your back !!

oh my goodness!!!! hello my sweet baby <3333

first and foremost, so flattered that you were willing to take the time to get over the nervousness to tell me what you've thought about my writing/blog!!!! I totally get that because...I literally used to be like that...so I literally take it as the biggest compliment that you even took the time to leave this ask

wait this literally gave me the CRAZIEST FLASHBACK. its actually crazy bc family rules and king of my heart...like to this day are some of the most popular pieces that i've ever written...and speak now was LITERALLY the first time I even ever wrote something so those all make me so nostalgic for that time period when i was fighriung out what it was that I liked to write 😭

oh bsfsob sukuna....so insane but I literally pulled up one of the chapters in comments in my therapy session the other day and she was like okay well...if you can write this why can't you understand it and I was like 😃 this is about my boyfriend sukuna girl shut up....but on the real, that fic is/will always be so special to me because there's just so much of me and my own feelings in there that it literally feels like my little baby of hurt feelings that people relate to and get happiness from and its all types of weird and healing and idk

CAT NAMED GERALD IS SO FUNNY FLKDJSALKFDJSLAKF. gerald kills me bc for some reaosn thats the name of the siblings groupchat that I have like we all just named it gerald and now its been like years of that. no because I actually feel that bc I was rereading it the other day to feel somethind and realized how like...I was predicting some stuff that was gonna happen before I wrote it unintentionally...lIKE I WAS UNINTENTIONALLY EASTER EGGING its kind of insane and that fic is just so comprehensive and whole and I love it so much and I don't think i'll be able to write anything as good as that again

you and taypell as gojo anon are my fiercest riders I fear like I think about IT ON THE DAILY. GOJO AS TAYLOR FANS IM TRYING I SWEAR TO GOD

#asks!#my heart is so warm

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little-paperboat · 4 months

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Through Shadows To The Edge Of Night (3)

Here we goooo! Final chapter of "Through Shadows" is out, one day earlier than planned! 🧡 I'm super excited, it was so much fun to write! It's over 6,600 words too!! Twice as long as my usual chapters, which I didn't expect initially, but during the editing process I chose to merge the ending dialogue with another one that I had written for a later chapter, as I found it made more sense.

I'm glad that Tav and Rolan are finally having more interaction... and a little misunderstanding I was craving to write since the beginning, including that *one* scene that I imagined all those months ago and made me want to write this fic 😏

I hope you'll like it! The next part of the series will finally bring us to Baldur's Gate and to Sorcerous Sundries, and well, who knows what will happen then 👀 I'm planning to release it on next Saturday. You can follow the tag "series:forbidden fire" here on tumblr to not miss it when it comes out 🌸

And of course, I'm so grateful for all the comments, kudos and support! The Holy Rolan Empire is truly a gem, you guys are wonderful and it's super heartwarming to be part of such a kind community with so many talented artists and writers 🥹 ❤️

Read on AO3 (3/3)

Read Part 1: Wild Winds Are Death To The Candle (2/2)

She took a step towards him.

“Rolan?”

This broke him out of his stupor, his eyebrows perking up, frowning, and finally coming closer. Had he always been this tall?

“Tav,” he replied sternly.

Her name rolled off his tongue with ease, and something surged within her; wishing that he’d say it more often, whisper it against her skin, his lips caressing the shell of her ears— Wait, what? No! She had done so much for him, against her better judgement even, and he had been nothing but rude and a pain in the ass. No: she wouldn’t be so easily swayed. The ball was in his court, and her expectations were high. She wouldn’t be distracted by nonsense.

She crossed her arms, unimpressed, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.

“You brought them back,” he said finally, his eyes finding hers, a hint of hesitation colouring his deep voice. Once again, she found herself hypnotised by the golden flames dancing against the moonless sky of his eyes. “I thought my entire family was dead, and you… you brought us back together.” His voice was soft, almost emotional. She didn’t even know he could speak like this.

“Don’t mention it,” she croaked out. What was wrong with her? Gods, she needed to get a grip, now.

“You have no cause to be humble. You did the impossible and you went out of your way to help us when most people would’ve left us to die - or worse.”

Maybe she liked it better when he yelled at her, after all. At least it didn’t make her heart beat so fast.

There was a pause, but before she could speak, he continued.

“I’ve lashed out at you, drunkenly and otherwise, and you helped anyway.” She fought back a smile, biting the inside of her cheeks to physically stop her lips from stretching. “You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry. And, thank you.”

Was this real? Was this really happening? She tilted her head up at him and wished that she didn’t imagine his own gaze flickering to her lips.

“Why are you being nice?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“Because you were. I still don’t quite understand why you decided to help us - to help me, but you did.” He seemed to remember something, and handed her a small purse. “It’s only right that you get something in return.”

A bag of gold sat in the palm of his hand, heavy and full. She paled, suddenly ill at ease. Was he giving her his savings?

“Rolan, no. I can’t accept it.” It was absurd. Actually, it was offensive.

His eyes darkened.

“No? Is that not good enough for you?”

“On the contrary, it’s way too much. Really, I… I don’t need gold. I don’t, I swear.”

She didn’t know how to explain to him that the sum he was handing her was probably less than her weekly allowance as a teen.

Not that she was the kind of selfless person who refused to be paid for her services. Quite the opposite, actually: half her life so far had been dedicated to finding ways of getting and spending money, without any concern in the world for those who didn’t have any.

But, well. Being catapulted in the middle of a refugee camp without any gold piece to spare had somewhat altered her perspective, and now she did feel bad about taking money from people in need when she knew her own coffers were still overflowing at home.

“I don’t need a reward,” she continued. “You keep it, for you, and Lia and Cal, for when—”

“Take it, Tav.” He cut her, annoyance sharp in his voice. Clearly, he would obviously feel beyond insulted if she refused it, but at the same time, she really didn’t need it. Although, it could benefit the group, if only temporarily…

She chewed on her bottom lip, indecisive, before reluctantly taking the coin purse from him, swearing to herself that she’d find a way to give it back somehow. Her obedience seemed to please him, and he gave her a satisfied smirk that ignited a fire in her belly, a violent desire coursing through her veins.

She wanted to know how his lips would feel against hers, how his body would react to her touch; to see pleasure etched over his handsome features and to hear him say all those nice things again, and then some. To see him happy, pleased; to make him lose his composure and show him how good it would feel to not be a stuck-up prick.

She wanted to kiss him - she really did.

And she wanted it now, even if he hated her.

She had dealt with worse than that.

“I didn’t tell Cal and Lia about what happened,” she said instead, inching just a bit closer, batting her eyelashes just so - giving him that one sultry look that always got her tangled in bedsheets under an hour.

“I know,” he said with a strained smile.

“You’re welcome,” she teased.

He let out a breathy laugh.

“I thanked you once already. Don’t be greedy.”

A glint of mischief burned in his eyes and she felt herself smirk, the flames of desire burning brighter. Oh, she was greedy alright - all she needed was a sign that he wasn’t just being polite, something, anything to let her know that he was also curious about her, and she would show him exactly just how greedy she could be.

— Read the rest on AO3 :)

#rolan x tav #holy rolan empire #rolan nation #series:forbidden fire #fic:wild winds #fic:through shadows #tag:writing #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 rolan

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dukeofdelirium · 2 months

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Hi....if you don't mind me asking, who are your top 7 favorite romantic relationship's couples in books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series (can be canon or non-canon) and your top 7 favorite characters ever from any media? Why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks....

Hi!!! It’s no problem at all I love to talk about ships <3333

1) Lawlight from Death Note

what can I say about this ship that hasn’t been said? They make me genuinely insane and they hit in ways… I’ve been obsessed with and have actively shipped them for over half my life lol. They are my ultimate OTP. I don’t even really care for e2l pairings personally but lawlight to me is just Different and those that get it get it

2) Kataang from Avatar: The Last Airbender

Literally they were the first ship I ever shipped. I’ve shipped this pairing since I was like 8 years old. They are very near and dear to my heart and they are so cute and perfect together and they spark so much joy and I am SO EXCITED for the movie!!!!

3) Byler from Stranger Things

I am obsessed with this ship. I love them so much and I am rooting for their endgame in the final season! I love the analysis the byler shippers come up with and they’re genuinely such a fun ship to me

4) Eremika from Attack On Titan

This ship makes me rabid I’m serious. I spiraled so bad after I finished AOT and devoured like 20 fics to cope. They ruined my life etc but I love it

5) Nezushi from No.6

I don’t like the anime much (because it rlly cuts so much of the story) but the manga and the novels are amazing! I love the story overall and the characters individually so the fact there’s a canon gay relationship is such a bonus

6) Blackswan (Jacob x Bella) from Twilight

Stephenie Meyer will pay for her crimes lmao we were legitimately robbed of their endgame and idc what anyone says. Team Jacob till the day I die fr

7) Quimbry/Quil x Embry from Twilight (me and my friends decided on the ship name lol)

I don’t have a gif cuz these characters are so minor they hardly appear but do I ship the hell out of them? Yes! Are they canon? Hell no! Should they be? Yeah and that’s why I’ve written over 100k for fanfic for them on my ao3 lol

As for favorite characters, I gotta rlly think on this

🤔🤔🤔

My favorite character of all time is Light Yagami from Death Note. I fucking LOVE his character so much. I just love everything about him. The way he’s written, the nuance, his whole aesthetic. It’s so *chefs kiss* and I have so many thoughts about him. I am NOT one of those death note “fans” that hates Light or drags his character lol. I am a Light enjoyer unapologetically and he imo is one of the best villains of ALL TIME

Another character I love immensely is Carl Grimes from The Walking Dead comic book. Not the show cuz the show is trash! I used to relate so much to Carl growing up bc I read the comic book as a teen. He’s forever cemented as one of my favorite characters of all time. Also I love the character design and how he’s kind of an anti hero

I also love Ellie Williams from The Last of Us 1 and 2 for the same reason. She reminds me a lot of Carl in the “anti hero” sense. She’s also such a badass. Love those video games !!!!

I also love Eren Yeager from Attack on Titan. Can you tell I like morally questionable characters? Lol. Eren was always and will always remain my favorite character in AOT. He’s kind of crazy but I like it lol and I kind of relate 🤣

Aang from ATLA is also one of my favorite characters. He’s got a sick character design, I love the way he’s written and he’s genuinely a huge comfort character to me. His character arc makes me cry it’s so well done and I love his personality. His character makes me very happy :)

Lastly I think another fav character is Will Byers from Stranger Things. I relate heavily HEAVILY with him. Not only that he’s an artist like me, or his personality which is similar to me as well, but also his upbringing with an abusive father and lastly the fact he’s canonically a gay guy like me makes me feel very represented in the show. He’s my favorite in the entire cast of characters. Love him to death and Noah Schnapp was such a perfect cast and he acts his ass off every second of screen time

Thanks for sending me questions!! :) I love talking about ships and characters this was fun!

#byler #lawlight #kataang #nezushi #team jacob #eremika

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bbcphile · 3 months

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (except me because obvs I have done it). Spread the self-love ❤

Thanks for the ask, @thesilversun! 😀

Since the ask said written, not “are writing,” I’m not including my current MLC longfic (as yet unnamed), but otherwise it would absolutely be on this list. It’s 58k and not yet halfway through (facepalm), and I’m really looking forward to finishing it and sharing it. So, for MLC folks, sorry there’s only one MLC fic here!

1. What’s Sealed Away (Mysterious Lotus Casebook, Dihua)

I really enjoyed figuring out how a-Fei’s amnesia works based on the details the show gives us and the things it’s oddly silent about, and reverse engineering based on how he acts towards LLH what his experience of amnesia might be like. (Also, as someone who has unfortunately had experience with amnesia, I feel like most examples of the amnesia trope really punt on the many different kinds of memory and how amnesia can mean you lose some but not all, and the wild things that happen when there are contradictions between them.) I’m also really proud of the ways I tried to convey the meanings behind LLH’s reactions even when DFS as the POV character had no way to fully interpret them because of all the missing context. It was a fun writing challenge.

2. Nunc Atque Semper (Horatio Hornblower, Maria/Horatio Hornblower, past Archie Kennedy/Horatio Hornblower; the only Dead Kennedy Universe fic I will ever write)

I can’t even read fics where Archie dies without being an emotional mess for days, so I was not ever expecting to write one. But 1. I got a prompt for it, and 2. It was a chance to hold Horatio accountable for the ways he treats Maria in the series while also being sympathetic to him for his overwhelming grief and being married to someone he doesn’t love; and 3. I love incorporating literary allusions into my work, and Archie’s canonical love of Shakespeare meant that I could have a central part of the fic be Maria essentially trying to do literary analysis to figure out what Archie and Horatio were to each other. I very much broke my own heart with this fic and I’m still proud of it.

3. Harboured and Encompassed (Horatio Hornblower modernAU (libraryAU + actor!Archie), Archie/Horatio; Archie/Horatio/Will pre-slash; 148,000 words)

I am still so incredibly proud of how I adapted the characters and events (with aspects of some of the books thrown in) to a modern setting while staying true to who they are. These characters will always have a very very special place in my heart, as will the special combo of humor, fluff, and heart-rending angst that having a character like Archie at the center of it enabled (I miss writing him so much sometimes). I love the whole series, too, but this is definitely the core of it.

4. Turning Over the Sands of Time (Horatio Hornblower, Archie/Horatio)

I still don’t understand why this one has so few kudos when I think it’s some of my best writing. Maybe the subject matter is too bleak/violent? (Mind the tags if you read it!) I really love writing missing scene fics and character studies, and the moments from the show that bookend this fic break my heart every time and make me fall in love with Archie all over again, respectively, and I wanted to delve into the hellscape of Archie’s mind in those moments and show how, even when he is in emotional agony and dealing with flashbacks, he is still compassionate and caring and trying with what little agency he has to make sure no one ever suffers as he did, or at least, if they are forced to, that no one has to suffer alone. (Also, a horribly depressed and triggered Archie means a very poetic Archie, which means I got to write lines like “The actors had changed, but the play had not” and “a rotting weed by any name would smell as fetid” and “Dying might be a price worth paying if it could but purchase that.” Have I mentioned I miss writing Archie?)

5. Taking Hands Against a Sea of Troubles (Horatio Hornblower, Archie/Horatio)

TW: suicide mention

The first time I saw a delirious Archie quote Anthony and Cleopatra during his suicide attempt and the play-illiterate Horatio has no idea what he’s saying, I knew I wanted to write the a scene where they see the play together years later in Drury Lane and Horatio finally understands the context. And I knew the scene in the theater box would need so much non-verbal communication and would need to be so comparatively subtle–because of the semi-public nature of the theatre box and the very real danger they would face if Horatio actually comforted Archie more overtly–so I waited a few years after having the idea until I was able to execute it the way I wanted to. I really love fics that deal just as much (if not more) in what’s unsaid than what’s said–for all that I love deep dives into character psychology–and I’m so glad I was able to finally write this.

Thanks again for the ask!

#about me #ask meme #writing #mysterious lotus casebook #Horatio Hornblower #Archie Kennedy

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eneiryu · 7 months

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do you have any tips for people who want to start writing/posting works, but don't know where to start?

I’ve been mulling it over since I got your ask, and I think I have come up with a few things:

- Start small, not just in length but in concept. Plotting out fics in such a way that all the threads get satisfactorily tied up at the end, and things don’t feel rushed or dragged out or forgotten about, is a skill. I find it much, much easier to pick one single core concept, and build a whole, detailed story around that, than to successfully keep several metaphorical plates in the air. For example, with my last fic: I wanted Theo to convince himself he had to leave BH after the series finale, and then for him and Liam to run into each other years later, and end up having that explosive resolution. I could have felt like I needed to write all the in-between, or even the after, but really I didn’t. To steal a piece of writing advice I heard from someone else, ask yourself if you’re writing the most interesting parts of your character’s life/story, and if the answer is no, try stopping and writing that. Conveniently enough, that also usually ends up being the more fun parts to write. And, eventually—you’ll get to the point where writing out the epics is much, much easier.

- OUTLINE. Seriously, outline everything. If you have an idea, even if you don’t have any idea where it goes or anything other than the first sentence or summary? Write it down. Write it down immediately. You will forget things if you try to save it for later. My phone is full of incomprehensible chunks of stories, but that is how I get to comprehensible stories. And outlining honestly makes things so much easier. If I have an outline, I very rarely get “stuck.” I know what happens next, and it’s so much easier to thread the different moments together, than to sit there staring at an intimidatingly blank page, and feel like I need to come up with everything.

- Don’t worry about titles and summaries and tags until the story is actually done, and don’t stress yourself out trying to come up with the perfect one. I come up with my titles on the fly. One of the most talented fic writers I’ve ever come across has one-word titles, usually just some kind of noun (does the fic take place in an arena? The fic is tilted “Arena.”).

And, honestly, most importantly?

- Write for yourself, and for the fans that you have, not the fans that you wish you have. It’s so tempting to judge how “successful” you were at a story by how many comments or reblogs or likes you get, but my experience has been that there are so many stories, and so many posts, and so many different tastes and styles and whatever, that being “popular” in fandom is a mythical and almost impossible thing to achieve. Some of my favorite stories I’ve written are the ones that received the least notice, comparatively. I have made so many friends and have come to have a group of readers who names and pseuds and comments I genuinely remember and appreciate, because they show up again and again and take the time to leave the comments, or the reblogs, or the likes. They engage, with me and with the work that I do genuinely spend hours or my time and energy on, and having a handful of those readers show up in one of my stories, even if it doesn’t hit the same “mark” as some of my others? That’s a damn good day, right there.

Okay just kidding, one more:

- Have fun. Writing is seriously so much work, and it’s hard, and a lot of the time, it may feel like you’re shouting into the void. So you’ve got to write the things that you enjoy, that you want to see in the world, and then you’ve got to go put it into the world. If you’re having fun, your readers will know it and respond to it. And if you’re having fun, well, then—you’re having fun, aren’t you? 😊

#eneiryu ask

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lajulie24 · 6 months

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jaina solo is mary sue

What an interesting assertion to leave in my inbox! Especially because without context it’s not entirely clear whether that’s meant to be a question (do I think Jaina Solo is a Mary Sue?) or a challenge (e.g. “Jaina Solo is a Mary Sue, prove me wrong”).

And, assuming we conclude this statement is true, is that supposed to be a bad thing? If Jaina is a Mary Sue, am I not allowed to like her as a character? Or is she supposed to be my guilty pleasure or something if I do like her? (I don’t really have guilty pleasures, anyway, I prefer just to have pleasures.) I do have lots of thoughts, so thank you in advance, dear Anon, for the ask and the opportunity to share them.

At this point I will freely admit that I have not read a ton of Jaina Solo stuff in Legends. A lot of Wookieepedia articles and fics in which she appears, yes, a lot of the actual books in which she appears, no. I do have a version of the character that I put into my Sequel Trilogy fix-it fic series, but she has some significant differences from her Legends canon counterpart (a couple big ones being that her turned-to-the-Dark-Side brother isn’t her twin, and she’s the younger sister by quite a lot).

However, being around the fandom one does glean some general opinions, so I’ll take a shot at talking about “Jaina Solo is a Mary Sue.” Buckle up, I’m going to be very wordy here.

I really recommend the @thisweekinfandomhistory podcast episode they did on the concept of “the Mary Sue” — it’s a great rundown of where the concept came from, how it evolved over time, how it has affected fanfiction writing as well as mainstream characters in books, TV, and film, and some of the not-so-subtle ways it’s been used to police how we write or how we enjoy femme-presenting characters. The general concept of the Mary Sue is of a (almost always female) character who is sort of a blatant self-insert, where they have all kinds of amazing skills or powers, and are so attractive that everyone is in love with them or wants to be their friend, and they’re friends with all the main characters, and the story sort of starts being about how awesome they are, they saved the day and everyone clapped. The idea is that writing a Mary Sue into your story makes your story terrible and boring and they’re just a flat character who sucks. I think.

So — Jaina Solo. In Legends canon she is:

Strongly connected to main characters we know and love (eldest child and only daughter of Han Solo and Leia Organa and niece of Luke Skywalker)

Extremely strong in the Force and a Jedi with the crazy Skywalker-brand Force lineage

An incredible pilot and very mechanically savvy as well (also probably helped out by the whole extremely-Force-sensitive thing as well as having at least two incredible pilots in the family)

Able to speak Shryiiwook (makes sense given that Chewie is her father’s best friend, has a life debt to her father, and is pretty much part of the family)

Very attractive (some combo of her mother’s and her father’s good looks, probably more so Leia’s)

Everyone is in love with her (there is an ongoing war among various love interests, including Jagged Fel, Zekk, and Kyp Durron, plus Ta’Chume once tried to marry her off to Isolder when his wife (also the mother of Jaina’s close friend Tenel Ka) was still alive and very much still married to him)

Super-special because of her twin bond with Jacen and being the Sword of the Jedi and having the Vong think she was their trickster goddess

Okay, so there could be some ingredients here that point to Mary Sue for Jaina, particularly the “she’s extremely skilled and the best at all these things” and “everyone is fighting over her affections” business. I would argue the fight of Jaina’s love interests is less about Jaina and more about the fact that in the era many of those books were written, apparently the only way they knew to give women conflict was to a) have them fight with other women (this is a problem they gave Leia a lot too) or b) have them worry about which man they should choose. Or the typical back and forth among authors who had competing love interests and wanted theirs to win. (Side note: Jaina and Tenel Ka should have gotten together at least for a while. Or Jaina should have pulled a Kelly Taylor from 90210 and said “I choose me.”)

Here’s the thing about Jaina having mad skills at multiple things, though. As you can see from most of the bullets above, her skills aren’t just out of the blue so someone could make an overpowered self-insert character. There are solid reasons for those skills. And why do we hear so much about her adventures and her skills? Well, the book series in which adolescent/adult Jaina appears are called Young Jedi Knights and The New Jedi Order. If she’s one of the titular Young Jedi Knights, or a member of the New Jedi Order, she’s one of the beings the book is about! And honestly, however you feel about those series, you’re gonna have a bad time if the whole New Jedi Order series is about Jedi who have no skills and always lose and suck.

Hey, you know who else has a lot of skills and is an excellent pilot and does crazy bonkers things with the Force and often comes and saves the day and has lots of love interests in Legends? Luke Skywalker. Is Luke a Mary Sue? (Well, he’s a man. Being a Mary Sue is apparently reserved for women. So I guess not.)

I don’t think Jaina is a Mary Sue, but let’s say she is and go back to my earlier point: so what?

Women are not exactly featured in the Star Wars universe. My girl Leia is a main character, but there are more women dancing for a Hutt in Return of the Jedi than actually have speaking lines in the original trilogy. (The minuscule number of humans of color in the Star Wars universe is a whole other issue, so blatant that SNL once did a skit about it featuring Lando.)

Maybe we get to have a female character who is beautiful and smart, crazy powerful in the Force, a kickass Jedi, an ace pilot with more kills at nineteen than several of the Rogues put together, who brings all the boys to the yard. (And probably plenty of beings of other genders, let’s be real.) Who is Han Solo and Leia Organa’s beloved daughter, Luke Skywalker’s beloved niece, Chewbacca’s beloved family, Jacen and Anakin’s beloved sister, Mara Jade’s beloved niece and Jedi apprentice, friend to many. Who struggles with her identity and her purpose, who grieves, who grapples with the Dark Side, who worries about winning peace for the galaxy but ending up alone in her life. Maybe I want to read about and write her adventures — which could, yes, include which being she ends up with romantically. Maybe I put a little of myself in there, or a lot of myself, or what I’d want to be if I had even half the talents she has and lived in the Star Wars universe.

Maybe we get to have a kickass Organa-Solo daughter with a purple lightsaber, as a treat. And maybe we get to have as many treats as we want.

TL;DR: “jaina solo is a mary sue” 1. No, she isn’t. 2. Maybe she is, and maybe that’s okay. Great, even.

Congratulations if you waded through this whole thing, Anon, and thank you for the very intriguing ask!

#ask lajulie #jaina solo #Star Wars #star wars thoughts #thank you for the ask!#no really this was interesting and fun #are they a mary sue?#no and also so what

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make-me-imagine · 7 months

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One Piece (Live Action) Requests: OPEN

I keep feeling the desire to write, but not much is sparking my creativity. So I thought I would open requests for OPLA and see how it goes.

Notes: I am writing specifically for the characters in the live action, and though ages are not mentioned in what I write usually, I write them as with the intention of them being Aged Up to over 20 years old (closer to actors actual ages vs the character ages in the anime/series).

Who I Will Write For (in preference order):

Zoro

Mihawk

Sanji

Shanks

Buggy

Luffy

Usopp

Nami

What You Can Request *I'm more in the mood for shorter easy-to-write stuff, so more plot detailed requests might not get written

Drabbles/Oneshots

Headcanons

Basic Rules

No NSFW/Smut

No pregnancy/child fics

2-3 prompts max please

Gn!Reader Inserts (no character x character ships)

Other more detailed rules/preferences (here)

Prompts: *these are just suggested, you do not need to use them

Angsty:

“Just please open your eyes.”

“Wake up. You have to wake up. Please. For me.”

“You almost died and you’re making jokes?”

“I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“I know you’re tired, but you have to stay awake.”

“You would risk letting all those people die for one person? Why?” “Because it’s not just one person…it’s you.”

“Please tell me that’s not your blood.”

“You shouldn’t be with them, you should be with me.”

“I’m so cold. Why is it so cold?”

Fluffy/Cute/Romantic:

“I just cant see myself ever living without you.”

“If there was ever anybody meant for me, it’s you.”

“If I asked you to stay, would you?”

"All I’ve ever wanted was a place to belong. Somewhere I could call home. And you gave me that. Because you are my home.”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

“I wasn’t sure what love really felt like until I met you.”

“Maybe if you stopped staring at them and actually talked to them, you might have a chance.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you. No matter how hard I try, you’re always on my mind”

“How long have you had this planned?” “Since the moment I fell in love with you.”

“You came all the way here for me?”

“Why are you staring at me?” “Because I think you’re beautiful.”

“I saw you looking at it last time we were in the store together, so I got it for you.”

Crack/Misc:

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone screw something up that fast before.”

“At least it couldn’t get any worse.” “I really wish you hadn’t said that.”

“In case you haven’t heard, there is a bounty on your head.” “Is that why you’re here? To kill me and take the bounty?” “No. I’m here to protect you.”

“What happened to your hand?” “I hit my hand on something.” “On what?” “Your ex’s face.”

“What could go wrong?” *something immedietely goes wrong*

“Are you here to kill me?” “No, I’m here to save you.”

“I thought I was the one saving you?” “Then do a better job next time.”

“Why do you have that look on your face?” “I’m deciding whether or not I’m going to kill you.” Alternate response: “I’m deciding whether or not I want to kiss you, or kill you.”

“You’re not scared of me?” “Should I be?”

“Don’t ever do that to me again.”

“Did you just…save me?” “You’re surprised?” “Well seeing as you are usually the one trying to kill me, yeah, kind of.”

Scenario Prompts:

Huddled together to keep warm.

Fall asleep in same bed, on opposite sides, wake up in each others arms.

Hands brush as you stand next to each other, you think it’s on accident until their hands gentle wrap around yours.

Shielding the other with their body to save/protect them.

Caught staring too many times for it to be a coincidence.

Size difference hug; they engulf you.

You refuse to leave so they pick you up and throw you over their shoulder.

Bandaging the other and then kissing the injury gently.

A and B meet randomly, B finds out A is on an important mission or quest and decides to go with them to protect them/watch over them.

Cloudgazing or Stargazing together, as you lie next to each other, their hand slips into yours.

A and B realizing they were holding hands the entire time the moment they had to let go. (after getting scared, nervous, frightened, etc.)

Accidental confession during heat of the moment/fight.

Person A has a hidden power, Person B finds out.

Person A falls asleep, instead of waking them, Person B carries them to bed.

Person A is in love with Person B. B is also in love with A. But somehow, they are both convinced that the other is in love with Person C, who is completely oblivious to all of it.

Person A is hiding an injury, no one finds out until they collapse.

Turning around, and suddenly being met with a kiss.

A is alone and hurt badly, they can talk to B through an earpiece/phone. Eventually A stops talking and B thinks they lost them. But they find them alive.

Headcanon Prompts:

Crush: How would they act with a crush, do they pine?

Relationship: General Relationship Headcanons

Intimacy: How they show intimacy; physical and not.

Confession: When and how they admit their feelings for you

The moment(s) they realize they have feelings for you (pre-relationship)

The moment(s) they realize they are in love with you (established relationship)

Cuddling: Do they cuddle, how do they, when do they, etc

Kissing: Do they like kissing, how do they kiss, when, etc.

Love Languages: What is their receiving and giving love language (and how do they show it)

Jealousy: How they act when they are jealous, what would make them jealous, etc. (before and/or during the relationship)

Protective: Are they protective? How they show it. Etc.

Taking care of them when they are hurt.

Them taking care of you when you are hurt.

Friends > Lovers

Love: Ways they say or show they love you.

---

P.S: Bloodhounds Requests are still open as well.

#opla requests #one piece live action x reader #opla x reader #one piece x reader #requests #bloodhounds x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #mihaw x reader #one piece writing

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karahalloway · 11 months

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Sleepless in New York: Epilogue - Into The Night

Series: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Synopsis: What if Drake met Harper on the first night of Prince Christian’s New York bachelor party? A stand-alone AU written from Drake's POV.

Masterlist: Sleepless in New York

Chapter Summary: On the long-dreaded night of the Masquerade Ball, Drake has a revelation...

Word Count: 4,600

Rating/Warnings: M (angst, way too many f-bombs, drinking, references to drug-use, fluffy fluff fluff)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: This is my slightly belated submission for @choicesprompts Flufftober 2023 event I got this out as fast as I could! The prompt that this fits is '31 - You don’t know me and I promise I’m not a creepy stalker but...' and possibly this one:

A/N2: I have no clue how many people actually listen to the chapter theme songs for these fics, but if you have time, I highly encourage you to listen to this one! I dredged it from the depths of my Middle School memories because I realised that it was perfect for this chapter (in my head, if Sleepless were a movie/TV show, this is the song that would play as the end credits song).

Epilogue - Into The Night

"You okay?"

I shoot a scoff across the room. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"You could," Chris concedes, meeting my eye through the full-length mirror as he adjusts a cuff. "But I am not the one who has been staring into that whiskey glass for the past ten minutes."

"Speak for yourself," I reply, quickly draining what's left of my drink. "You've been eyeing up your reflection for the past fifteen."

"I just want to make a good first impression, is all..." he admits while obsessing over the gold aiguillette draped across his jacket.

"Isn't that what the job of the so-called ladies?" I ask dryly, dropping the now empty glass back onto the bar cart.

"I am certain they will be pulling out all the stops," he sighs, smoothing his already immaculate hair down. "But, given the occasion, it is only fair that I reciprocate."

"Well, short of emergency Botox, I think you've more than crossed that T."

Chris snaps his head around in bewilderment. "Pardon me?"

I shrug apathetically. "You're fast approaching thirty, buddy. And those crow's feet aren't doing you any favours."

He quirks a brow at me. "I think you'll find that they are laugh lines..."

"Now you're just splitting grey hairs, old man..."

Chris bursts out laughing. "Speak for yourself, Drake! You were born three months before me!"

"True," I concede. "But unlike you, I ain't got no wrinkles."

His mouth pulls into a knowing smirk. "Only because you hide them under all that unkept facial hair!"

"You should try it sometime," I riposte, running my hand suggestively over the bristles on my jaw.

Chris shakes his head with a wry grin. "I must've done something very wrong at some point for you to be my best friend..."

I spread my arms. "Hey. I'm just here to keep you humble."

Chris scoffs. "Yes. By reminding me that I'm fast approaching middle age..."

"It took your mind off the Ball, didn't it?"

"Yes," he concedes after a pause. "I suppose it did."

"Not just a hat rack, my friend," I grin with a tap on my temple. "But seriously. You look great. Warts and all."

A wan smile ghosts his lips. "Thanks, mate. You don't look too shabby yourself."

I glance down at the black tux that I'm wearing. "Yeah. Well... Given the occasion, I figured I should make some kind of effort as well."

"You know you don't have to dress up on my account... I know how much you dislike donning evening wear."

"Tell that to the prick who put 'black tie' on the invite..."

Chris chuckles. "That would be my father."

"Figures..." I say with a roll of my eyes. "He's got more dinner jackets than you can shake a stick at."

"A necessity when you are a king, I'm afraid..." Chris reminds me. "But at least it isn't a white tie 'do."

"Oh, sweet Jesus..." I groan, remembering the last royal event that I had to subject myself to in a bow tie and matching waistcoat. "I was sweating like a priest in a brothel strapped up in that monkey suit."

"It certainly did not help that the air conditioning system had been broken..."

"In the middle of a heatwave..." I add. "With five hundred people packed into a room."

"Yes, that Venice trip certainly was memorable."

"For all the wrong reasons," I grunt sourly. "I somehow managed to get food poisoning as well."

"I remember," nods Chris sympathetically. "But at least you missed the terrible opera."

"Honestly, I would've traded that hellhole of a night for an entire week's worth of bad arias..." I grumble. "I definitely got the short end of the stick in that trade."

"You only say that because you do not know what it is to sit through four hours of off-key yodelling," Chris says with grimace.

"No," I admit solemnly. "Because I always bring earplugs."

Chris' eyes widen. "And you never thought to share them?"

"Doesn't really work if you only block one ear..."

Chris rewards my factual clap-back with a shove. "You are a sod, you know that right?"

"Thought that was old news," I reply with a grin, dodging out of the way.

"And yet you nevertheless continue to raise the bar..."

"Hey," I wink as I reverse my way back to the bar cart. "I have high standards."

Chris shakes his head with a wry grin. "You're impossible."

"Thought I was a sod," I quip over my shoulder as I refill both our glasses.

"An impossible sod," accedes Chris wryly as he slips on his monogrammed Breitling.

"Just so we're clear..." I smirk as I retrace my steps to offer him one of the tumblers.

"Thanks," he acknowledges, taking the heavy crystal. "What shall we toast to?"

I think for a second. "How 'bout blind, dumb luck?"

Chris lifts a brow. "That's a new one."

"Seems to be in short supply of late," I tell him, raising my glass.

"Very true," he agrees. "To Lady Luck, then! May she bestow her golden smile upon us once again!"

"'Cause we could all do with a fuckin' break," I add dryly, clinking my glass against his.

Chris brings the gin to his mouth with a laugh. "Did we not just have one?"

"Not all of us," I remind him, throwing my refill back.

"Well, we'll need to make sure you take some time in lieu, then."

"I'll be fine," I assure him. "I'll just chalk it up as overtime."

Chris chuckles. "At the rate you're going, you'll soon have more overtime on the books than regular time."

"Yeah, well..." I shrug. "Shit needs doing. But I'm planning on dropping off the grid for a couple of weeks once the Bash is behind us."

"Take a whole month," Chris advises, clapping a hand onto my shoulder. "You will have more than earned it by then."

I scoff. "I can't just—"

He firms up his grip. "I insist."

Lifting my gaze, I find his clear, emerald eyes locking me down.

I huff out a low breath. "Fine. I'll think about it."

"That is the best I'm going to get out of you, isn't it?"

"Yep," I tell him with a slap on his arm. "Now, hop to it, Cinderella — your ball awaits."

"Yes, I suppose we best get on," he concedes, depositing his empty glass on a side table. "Would be rude to turn up late for my own party..."

Turning on his heel, he strides determinedly towards the door of his suite. The footman stationed by the wall quickly grabs the latch and pulls the door back.

"Here we go..." I mutter under my breath as I drop my tumbler off as well and follow after him.

This is it. The start of the slow, downward skid towards the inevitable. The beginning of the end.

Because tonight's ball kicks off not just the months-long circus that is the social season, but the countdown to Chris' coronation as well.

As despite all the official interviews and press releases, it's no secret within the Palace that Constantine is living on borrowed time. His pancreatic cancer had been diagnosed too late, and even with vigorous treatment, it had spread. And even based on the most optimistic outlook, chances are good that he won't make it to Christmas.

Which is why New York — by necessity — had been such a whirlwind tour. Because any day could end up being the old bastard's last, and Chris has to be ready to step up to the plate at a moment's notice. Not that he isn't already running the country in all but name... It just isn't official yet.

But that's why the race to find the next Queen is exactly that — a high-stakes time-trial where the clock is against everyone.

Especially Chris.

Because if Constantine's condition takes a sudden turn for the worse, Chris may not get the luxury of choice. As some dumbass had had the bright idea a few centuries ago to enact a law that states that Cordonian monarchs must be married or engaged at the time of their coronation. Which means that Chris' hand could end up being forced by circumstances — and selfish interests — outside his control.

So, we better pray that he finds someone, and fast. Or that the doctors are wrong. Ideally both.

Otherwise, we're gonna be up the proverbial creek without a paddle, hurtling down the rapids of a constitutional crisis that could very literally tear the kingdom apart.

"Well... This is it," declares Chris as we arrive at the doors of the ballroom.

"Yep," I agree over the soft hubbub of gossip and classical music that's seeping out into the ante-room we're standing in. "Last chance to cut and a run."

"I am honestly considering it," he admits with a shaky laugh as the footmen prepare to open the double-height doors.

"Hey," I say, stepping in front of him. "If you need a time out—"

He shakes his head. "I'll be fine."

"You sure?" I ask, fixing him with a critical eye as I wave at the staff to hold their horses.

"Yes," he nods determinedly. "Just... Just some last-minute nerves, is all."

"Understandable," I concede. "There are only about a dozen girls on the other side of that door waiting to throw themselves at you."

He eyes the barrier uneasily. "I suppose I should feel flattered..."

"...but you're seriously thinking about jumping off the balcony."

He bites out a strangled laugh. "Is it that obvious?"

"You never could beat me at poker."

"Shit..." he mutters, running an agitated hand down his face.

"Hey," I say, clamping my hands onto his shoulders to make him look at me. "It's a fucked up situation. I get it. Your dad's got one foot in the grave, you're trying to run a country, and the last thing you want to do is play Royal Bachelor in front of all these tossers. But you need a Queen. And the season's your best bet at finding one."

"But how will I know which is the one?"

"You won't," I admit. "Until you do."

Christ knows Gale struck me like white lightning out of the blue...

His lips curve into a ghost of a smile. "Blind, dumb luck..."

"Blind, dumb luck," I confirm, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Chris heaves a low exhale. "Here's to chance, then."

"Knock 'em dead, buddy," I say with a grin as I step back.

Chris lines himself up in front of the entranceway again. The footmen reach for the handles as the herald takes his position.

I give everyone the go.

The double doors swing open, and the herald clears his voice.

The music and the hubbub come to an abrupt halt as every neck in the room cranes around with unfettered interest.

"Preeesenting His Royal Highness, the Duke of Applewood!"

Chris squares his shoulders and lifts his head. And just like that, the man disappears and in his place stands the Prince — cool, composed, collected — any wayward reservations masked behind the diplomatic smile he's been practising since the age of three.

The crowd parts...

...and with one final inhale, Chris steps over the threshold and the doors close behind him.

A breath that I didn't realise I'd been holding explodes out of me.

Phase 1 — check.

Now to try and get through the remainder of the ball without any front-page scandals, culinary clusterfucks, or assassination attempts upsetting the carefully staged high-society apple cart.

Because I hadn't been joking earlier when I'd said we could all do with a fuckin' break. The media storm kicked up by Leo's abdication was still raging in full force through the pages of the tabloids, and it's only gonna be a matter of time before the paps get wind of Constantine's condition.

Which is why it's so critical that tonight's event goes off without a hitch. As the royal family — Chris especially — is in desperate need of a publicity uplift before the coronation... and the funeral.

And it's my job to quarterback while Bastien coordinates from the command centre.

So, I need to be especially on it tonight. As we can't afford any cock-ups.

Spinning on my heel, I make my way towards the closest side-door as I activate the hidden mic clipped to my jacket. "Falcon has flown, over."

"Confirmed," comes the crackled sound of Bastien's voice over the comms. "Blue Team — do you have eyes on Falcon?"

"We have eyes on Falcon, over," affirms Marquez.

"Walker, you're clear to take up secondary position, over."

"Roger that, over."

I feel my shoulders relax slightly as I reach the end of the service corridor.

So far, so good.

Just need to stay focused for the next six-or-so hours, and make sure that nothing goes sideways.

Opening the white-washed door in front of me, I slip into the ballroom near the back of the royal dais. Clicking the latch closed softly behind me, I catch sight of Constantine.

He's dressed to the nines in full royal regalia, patent oxfords polished to within an inch of their life. But the carefully coordinated window dressing can't hide the fact that the old man is a shadow of his former self.

His cheeks are sunken, his greying hair is sparse, and despite the carefully applied make-up, his skin lacks the usual vigour of health.

But I gotta hand it to the man. Despite his failing health, he's out here tonight. Putting on a united front for the sake of the kingdom — for the sake of his son — to make sure that the royal show goes on. Even if it fucking kills him.

Because that's the price of duty.

And regardless of his other failings — of which there are many — you have to respect him for that, if nothing else.

He spots me out of the corner of his periphery. "Drake..."

"Sir," I acknowledge with a respectful nod, coming to a stop.

"I trust everything is under control?"

"Yessir."

He eyes me for a moment before leaning back into his upholstered chair. "Let's ensure that it stays that way."

Knowing a dismissal when I hear one, I resume my path around the perimeter, scanning the crowd as I walk, always keeping at least one eye on Chris.

Because Constantine's direction had been clear.

Don't fuck up.

Not that I plan to.

I learnt my lesson the hard way in New York about taking my eyes off the ball. And like hell am I gonna—

"Managed to find a new shirt, I see..."

I freeze. No fuckin' way.

I must've imagined it. A trick of the space... A wayward echo... An auditory illusion.

But if that's true, then who the hell is standing behind me? Eyes locked onto my back like a laser-sight? Their familiar scent tickling my nose?

Camomile with a hint of honey.

I shake my head, trying to rejig my senses.

It doesn't work.

Which leaves me with just one option.

Steeling myself, I turn slowly around, part of me convinced that I've well and truly lost the plot, part of me 'bout ready to believe in miracles.

Because that voice... Here? That's just not possible. Unless there was something in that whiskey and I'm tripping major ballsacks right now.

Wouldn't be the first time Max pulled a stunt like that...

But as I complete the about-face, it quickly becomes clear that I ain't just obviously high — I've lost my motherfuckin' mind completely.

That, or a bomb has just gone off in the ballroom and I'm now stood at the Gates of Heaven, about to receive final judgement.

Because I can think of no other scenario that would explain why she's here, in front of me, wrapped in a shimmering, floor-length white dress that clings to her curves like wisps of a dream, a coy smile playing at her lips.

"But I guess you can't show up at a place like this in cowboy boots and Wrangler jeans, huh?"

The soft lilt of her voice slices through me like a boot knife. "Harp—"

I make the mistake of catching her eye.

And whatever semblance of rationale thought I may have had left dissolves instantly in the sparkle of her hazel-green gaze.

The crowd... The Schubert... The entire fucking kingdom crashes into inconsequence as I feel my already tenuous grip on reality slip, leaving me stranded on the twilight edge of reason, struggling for breath.

How—?

I have no clue how long I stand there, rooted to the spot like a vegetate stoner as I try — and fail — to make sense of what the actual fuck is happening.

Because this shit? It sure as hell ain't real.

"...Drake?"

The sound of her voice finally unglitches my brain.

I blink.

But she's still there. Staring at me. Like an unabating hallucination with a bad sense of humour.

With concerted effort, I force myself to choke out the only salient question. "The hell are you doing here?"

"Looking for you."

"Why?"

"You left your jackets behind and—"

My jaw drops. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Who — in their right mind — chases someone halfway around the world? Because of a goddamn jacket?

Nobody. That's who.

The girl's obviously crazy.

Her smile falters slightly. "I thought I'd surprise you..."

"Yeah. Well, I hate surprises," I cut in acerbically, still trying to process this shitshow.

"Yes," she snips, hazel eyes hardening. "That much is becoming clear!"

"What the fuck did you expect, Gale?" I hit back. "That I'd just—?"

"I don't know what I was expecting!" she snaps, the force of her annoyance propelling her forward as she flings an arm out. "But it sure as hell wasn't this!"

"Well, that makes two of us," I bite out, suddenly finding myself nose-to-nose with her. "Because I would've expected a fucking heads-up!"

Her eyes narrow. "Do you know how many Drake Walkers there are online?"

I feel my jaw clench. "What the hell does that—?"

"Over a hundred!" she shouts into my face... loud enough for a few nearby aristos to turn their heads. "And none of them are you!"

I grab her by the arm. "So, you just decide to jump on a plane and—?"

"Yes! Because it's not like I had your number, either, Walker," she continues forcefully, jabbing me in the chest. "Because you just left and—"

"You fucking think I don't know that!" I yell back, the inherent accusation of her words ripping away the last vestiges of my sanity.

Several more heads to turn.

But I don't give a shit.

Because I can't seem to think straight around this girl on the best of days. Let alone when she springs herself on me like some damn jack-in-the-box — for the third fuckin' time just as many days — leaving me slap-faced and scrambling, and then accuses me of being an asshole?

Like fuck am I gonna act rational...

...also, why the hell does she have to look so damn good in that dress?

She's glaring up at me, chest heaving. "This was obviously a bad idea..."

I scoff humourlessly, her face inches from mine. "No fucking shit."

Her body tenses... but in the next instant the fight goes out of her just as fast as it ignited. Dropping her gaze, she mutters, "Glad we got that cleared up..."

There's something in her tone that I can't quite place.

But my burnt-out brain is too slow at cottoning on, and before I have a chance to figure it out, she's spun out of my grasp and I'm left holding nothing but air...

"Harp—"

...but by the time I look up, she's already turned and vanished into the crush.

Shit.

That obviously came out wrong.

But what the fuck had she been thinking? For me to just throw my hat over the moon like some star-struck moron? To sweep her off her feet and kiss her like we were in a goddamn rom-com?

I catch sight of the flash of her honey-caramel hair halfway across the room.

Crap.

That's exactly what I should've done.

Ignoring every single warning light going off in my head — she's not been vetted, she didn't have an invite, how the fuck did she even find me? — I throw myself after her.

Because as pissed off as I am that she was able to get the jump on me like she did — someone's sure as shit getting fired for that — I can't deny the fact that I'm still a complete and utter fool for her.

And the thought of her walking out on me — like I'd walked out on her — hits worse than a bullet to the gut.

"Harper!" I shout, pushing through the crowd of beady-eyed onlookers to try and get to her, much to their undisguised disgust.

"Oi, watch it, you!"

"C'est intolérable!"

"Do you know who I am!"

But if she hears me over the growing furore, she doesn't stop.

"For fuck's sake..." I grunt under my breath as I momentarily lose sight of her in the sea of heads.

This girl's going to be the death of me.

But if I'm going to have any chance of catching her, I know I need a change of strategy.

Spinning on my heel, I cut a hard and fast path back to the edge of the ballroom, spilling more than a few fancy drinks in the process as I knock aristos out of the way like bowling pins.

Heedless of the chaos left in my wake, I burst out onto the periphery of the crush. Throwing myself into a sprint back towards the tail end of the room, I bump off anyone stupid enough to get in my way.

I'm not losing her again.

Rushing past the raised dais, I see Constantine turn his head in my direction...

...but I've blown past him before he has a chance to open his mouth.

Sliding to a haphazard stop in front of the wall, I pause for just long enough to wrench the hidden door open before hurling myself down the service corridor.

Rushing past doors and junctions on my left and right, I pull up a mental blueprint of the Palace, trying to extrapolate her most likely position based on her speed and prior trajectory, and cross-reference that against how fast I'm going to determine the best option for an interception.

There. The main foyer.

Skidding around a corner, I double-time it down the narrow passageways, praying and hoping that I've been able to make up for time lost in the ballroom.

Arriving at the exit point, I throw myself against the door — nearly dislocating my shoulder in the process — and crash back out into the Palace-proper...

...but I can't see her anywhere.

"Fuck!" I cuss, running an agitated hand through my hair as I spin around.

Maybe I miscalculated. Maybe she's already gone. Maybe—

"Ooph!"

I collide bodily with someone speeding around the corner from the opposite direction, their head smacking into my jaw.

Agony shoots through my mouth as the unexpected impact causes me to bite down on my tongue.

Motherfucker!

But the sharp sting of the pain doesn't stop my body from reacting. If anything, it kicks my training into gear. Moving more on instinct than anything else, I execute a targeted sidestep to realign my centre as my hand snaps out to grab the other person by the arm to stop them from falling backwards.

Using their weight as a fulcrum, I redirect the force of our momentum into a spin to bring both of us to a stop next to the wall.

"You okay?" I ask, peering down at the panting, hot mess in my arms.

Gale snaps her head up so fast she nearly breaks my nose as well. "How the hell did you get in front of me?"

"Trade secret," I tell her.

She lays into me. On the exact same spot she hit me last night.

"Christ!" I exclaim, reeling back. "What the hell was that—?"

"For being an asshole!" she decries, hitting me again.

"Asshole?" I scoff. "You fucking ran into me!"

"Well, maybe I wouldn't have done if you hadn't been such a jerk, Walker!" she shouts, smacking me again.

"What do you want, then?" I demand, catching her wrist. "A goddamn apology?"

Her eyes blaze. "It would be a damn good st—"

Fuck it.

Giving her wrist a hard tug, I use the inherent resistance in her arm to yank her forward. And before she has a chance to object, I've crashed my lips against hers.

I hear her suck in a sharp breath of surprise before her body suddenly softens, melting against mine with a sigh as she gives into me.

The scent of her wildflower perfume subsumes me as she throws an arm around my neck, and I'm — at long last — home.

Because it's not until this moment that I realise how much I fucking missed her. Even though I barely know her, and I have no clue how... or even if we can make this — whatever this is — work, I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was a monumental idiot for not going back to find her in New York...

...for the fact that I walked out on her in the first place.

Because this girl? She's unlike anything I've ever seen before.

The sheer fact that she's here — despite all the myriad-and-one ways in which I've screwed up with her — proves that.

And I'll be damned if I'll find another like her.

"Harper... I'm sorry," I pant between kisses, reaching up to cup her face in my palms. "For being an asshole... for being a jerk... for getting you fired... for hurting you... for—"

"I'm sorry, too..." she gasps, gripping my hair as my lips skate down her neck. "I didn't mean to... freak you out... like that... and I should've—"

"How did you even get here?" I ask, spinning her around to press her up against the wall behind me.

"Leo," she moans, arching up towards me as I drop a hand down to her ass, pulling her back into me. "He came to the apartment and—"

I scoff as I capture her mouth again. "Un-fuckin'-real..."

I'm gonna murder the bastard.

Because if this is his batshit way of saying 'thank you' for me being here for Chris instead of him, then he's definitely more than one brick shy of a load.

As regardless of whatever kind of happy reunion he'd cooked up in his mind, there's only one possible outcome to this royal SNAFU — me losing my job. Because there's no way in hell that Bast will be able to overlook the fact that I deserted my post to chase after a girl.

Again.

As unlike last time, there are a good two-dozen witnesses who can throw me under the bus. And they'll do so with impunity, given half a chance. Because one of those witnesses is Constantine. And no way is he gonna let such a flagrant dereliction of duty fly. Especially not after the very clear command he gave me.

Plus, it's not like I can justify my behaviour with any kind of rational argument. Or swear on a stack of Bibles that I won't do it again.

I'd tried that in New York.

It hadn't worked.

But as I glance down at Gale's flushed face, one thing is crystal clear.

I'll deal with that shit in the morning...

~ Fin ~

A/N: This is it! We have arrived at the end! 🤗 Thank you so much for bearing with me over the course of this fic, which has been 2 long years in the making! Hopefully, the journey was worth it! There will be some Extras in the near future (art, a bonus chapter), but no ETA on any of these yet (too many other WIPs I want/need to finish). Thank you to everyone who took the time to read, reblog, comment, emote, and generally encourage me through this project! I - for one! - have certainly grown to love Drake more as a result! 🥰 Hope you have too!

Permatags

@twinkleallnight @lovingchoices14 @kingliam2019 @petiteboheme @angelasscribbles @aussiegurl1234 @nestledonthaveone @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @tessa-liam @alyshak92 @secretaryunpaid @princessleac1 @walkerdrakewalker @tinkie1973 @twinkle-320 @knaussal @nikkis1983 @lunaseasblog @ficloverevie @indiana-jr @differenttyphoonwerewolf @kristinamae093 @eversoaringqueen12 @peonierose @3pawandme @alexabeta @veebug8 @fanfiction-she-wrote @queenmiarys @lancelotsimp @coco-lina-s @lolablackwrites @ivyflowers13 @persephone13 @hollygirl1269 @adri-ja-96 @harleybeaumont @katedrakeohd @uneravine @alj4890

Sleepless in New York only

@bebepac

Picture Credits: Harper - Cordonia - Drake - Constantine - Kiss - Christian

#drake walker #harper gale #sleepless in new york #the royal romance #trr au #choicesprompts #flufftober 2023

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wonhosmistress · 1 year

Text

Aphrodisia;Prologue

(NSFW)

Word Count: 1,196

Warnings: Slight mention of Kinks, sexual BDSM themes, sex work, and lastly, TW! toxic-ish relationship mentions. Think I missed some? Lmk and send me a dm, I'll update this.

A/N:I have no IDEA how long this took for me finish because I’ve been teasing this series for a couple months with the only two teasers I mentioned of Hyunjin. Seems I have a lot of sub!Hyunjin enthusiasts because same y’all. 😩I promise to finish the Hyunjin before June ends and after that I’ll focus more on other members.

Anyways! This is the prologue enjoy this unfiltered, unedited, there will be hella grammar mistakes and I don’t plan to edit it because it’s too much work and I honestly just want to post ASAP. It’s been far too long since I’ve written and had any sort of inspo to write. Thanks to my dear mutual @nirvanawrites111 she gave me hella inspo with her amazing works!! I’m obsessed with her writing please go do me a favor and read her amazing stories/fics.

Also I tried to add the read more on mobile but I’m a dumbass and idk how to work tumble mobile sometimes lmao. So I apologize for anyone that will see this and doesn’t want to see it.

As a result of unsuccessful relationships and partners being concerned about where she went or what she was doing, she became more secretive about her whereabouts. Even though she wanted to be honest and open with them, she hesitated on many occasions; if she were to be bold and unapologetic they would go insane and ask questions like, "Why did you choose this job out of all the others?", "Are you cheating on me?", etc.

Those tiresome scenarios were one of the reasons she was always the one that broke it off with them, and so she took it upon herself to take a break from her dating life to focus on herself.

She had a job that wasn't just any regular job.

OnlyFans? No

Camgirl? No.

A phone Sex worker? No.

Feet pics? No.

Used panties? No

For her working at night was ideal because her sleeping schedule only allowed her to be a night owl. Even before any partner appeared in her life she was still in the process of discovering a whole new part of herself that she wasn't aware existed, and here she was in a dungeon that she had been hired at over a year ago and was one of the few popular dommes among the clients.

"How are you feeling?", She stood next to the man sitting on the loveseat.

"I'm good, Mistress." He smiled at her.

"Would you like some water?" He nodded in response.

She walked towards the room next door and back to the playroom to hand him the bottle.

She crouched down to his level to face him as well to check in with him, "How are you feeling? Was it too much?", she asked curiously as to how she could improve. What she should've done is saved that question for the head domme but she didn't and took the risk.

"No. Not at all. It was perfect, I enjoyed every second of it."

He faced her smiling at him and held her hand realizing he shouldn't be doing that.

"I'm sorry...may I?" She smiled warmly at him not pulling her hands away from his grasp.

"I just wanted to say thank you."

While she had not broken skin or drawn blood, she still left a few red welts on him. She grabbed the first aid kit in the corner and treated his wounds, trying to be as gentle as possible.

"No need to thank me. You went out of your way to give it a shot when you could've easily backed out and I would've still respected your decision. BDSM isn't everyone's cup of tea and so we've learned to respect everyone's decision."

She applied a first-aid ointment to every single red mark on his back; he hissed at the lightest touch, "I'm sorry, I know it hurts I'm just trying to make sure these heal quickly and nicely."

"I know and I appreciate it."

"Done." She stood up and handed him his T-shirt. "Make sure to take a warm bath or shower after you get home and keep applying ointment on the marks afterward.

He smiled at her making his way toward the exit.

"Will do.",

She smiled at him and nodded, seeing him off.

That was one of the roughest BDSM scenes she had done in a while. She would like to take time to make sure her submissive didn't go into a sub-drop, but sadly she couldn't. If it were her, she would go out of her way to remain with every submissive for a bit longer. However, her boss had to remind her that they only came here for a service nothing more. Because of this, she couldn’t be there for more than ten to fifteen minutes with her clients after their sessions ended.

~~~~~

"See you tomorrow night!" Her boss told her as they both headed in different directions.

She silently walked for the next couple of four blocks by herself and finally got closer to her apartment. She walked up the stairs and opened the door to her place. The second she got in she took off her shoes left them at the entrance and hung her purse on the rack.

Exhausted and couldn't even begin to explain how she felt after handling four subs back to back today. It was not an ideal situation for her couldn't handle more than two subs a day because her anxiety and insecurities kept creeping back up on her.

She meditated, journaled, exercised, and even set days apart for self-care plus, she detoxed from her constant electronic use. She ate healthily and did her best to keep her homey environment clean and organized. However, regardless of what she did something inside her told her she couldn't keep doing this.

She craved something new and stable.

She loved domming but maybe because of all her ex-partner's insecurities of themselves as she hid her true identity was reflecting on herself.

Could it be that deep inside she was ashamed of her job and what she did?

Years ago when she discovered the person she truly was glowed with confidence. How could she even be a dominatrix if she wasn't sure of herself and her current job?

Oh no.

She was experiencing not only her anxieties but also a dom drop.

Telling her boss; she was fine could've been a mistake because she was responsible for taking care of her dommes since half of them didn't have a partner to take care of them.

Fuck.

~~~~~

Two years Later:

Two years and a half of learning Korean were a big help during the entire process of her moving across the world. She wasn't fluent yet but could manage conversations with her neighbors, classmates, and strangers. And so here she was, sitting inside a cafe shop a couple of blocks from the Korean class she had just finished attending.

It seemed like only yesterday, she was experiencing the worst anxiety and burnout from only a year of working as a domme which was odd considering that she had never once felt like that before. But it made sense since she kept getting the gnawing feeling that she shouldn't have gotten into the dominatrix world way too early and so she took it upon herself to resign to take time for herself; and continue her future as domme by researching more information about the career, lifestyle, and possibly a new business.

The grueling work of research, language learning, space vacancy, furniture shop, etc made her take a step back and reconsider if she could do this all by herself. Thankfully, after taking a couple of weeks to continue her research she found herself posting on an exclusive adult site looking for dommes to work with her.

After returning calls and doing interviews she had successfully found four dommes who wanted to continue their careers in the kink community and so never once she thought, that she out of all people would be involved with any of Korea's music industry. Especially the ever so sexually frustrated men of Kpop that had an image and reputation to uphold in the industry, their companies, and not to forget their fans.

#sub!kpop #ximes’ 💭#ximes’ inferno #sub!idol #Aphrodisia

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doctorho · 9 months

Text

Behind these words (2)

Hey, remember this fic from Way Way Back? i found it in my drafts and cooked up a second part for you! i love this world and always intended to get back to it, i just...never did. until now!

This is a Viktor x reader fic based on the Signed, Viktor series by @buttermynutter here's part 1 in case you have no idea what i'm talking about 2.5k words, no warnings

You don’t know where to go.

Sure, you head to the Academy, that much was obvious, but nothing and no-one had prepared you for the fact that the place was enormous. There were several buildings, which, yes, didn’t seem that surprising when you thought about it, but nothing in the letters had indicated where exactly were you supposed to go.

Now that you were there – or, in the correct vicinity, at least – you were starting to doubt yourself again. Was it even okay for you to just show up like this? They wanted the form to be delivered personally, yes, it said that in the letter (you had it practically memorized by now) but that didn’t necessarily mean you could just show up at the front desk and go Hi, I think I live here now?

Front desk. That sounded good. You should probably find one of those.

Administration office, the letter had said. Too bad they hadn’t labeled the buildings from the outside. How were you supposed to know where the administration office was? There were dozens of absolutely massive buildings, all with several floors, towers, and you wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if there’d been even more places underground.

“If you have any questions regarding this letter,” He had written, “please feel free to contact the Academy.”

Yeah. As you look up at the identical buildings, a few questions come to mind.

The first of them being; what the fuck, Viktor?

And as a close second, are you kidding me? And, then, finally, a resigned couldn’t have been more specific with the directions?

People are walking past you in a blur, everyone unmistakably shiny in that Piltover kind of way, dressed sharply and quick in their movements, sure of where they’re going. And you’re standing still, debating just picking a building at random and hoping you won’t end up too lost.

You felt like an idiot – no, worse; an outsider. It had been clear from the moment you’d left Zaun. You didn’t belong here, and you were sure everyone else could smell it on you.

You weren’t one of them, you didn’t know where anything was, how anything worked, your clothes were old and worn and you didn’t know where to go. And the pressure of everyone else moving around you while you stood still like a stone in a river kept building on you, making the back of your neck itch. The longer you stayed still, the more you would stand out.

So you take a deep breath, and look up at the buildings again. Pick the oldest looking one, one with stupid decorative pillars and walls that had been clearly painted over many times, with small cracks in the paint that was chipping at the corners, faded where the sunlight hit the most.

They’d want the main building to be old and important and historical or whatever.

You walk in, trying your best to look like you were supposed to be there and definitely knew what you’re doing.

You don’t know what you’re doing.

Inside, after a small foyer lined with plants that were taller than you were, you find a long desk – and a person! – there’s someone sitting behind the desk, with sleek hair and dressed in dark blue, looking equipped and ready to help.

For the first time since arriving you feel like you might be in the right place, or at least getting there. Being lost alone is much worse than being lost and knowing there’s someone you can ask for directions. At least that gives you something to do.

“Hello,” The person behind the desk says before you can do anything, “can I help you?”

“I hope so,” You answer, “I’m looking for the administration office?”

“Ah,” The person smiles, nodding slightly, “to the left, through those glass doors. You’ll find a desk much like this one here.”

You smile and say thank you as politely as you can, and continue on your way. You go through the glass doors as instructed, and you find what you assume is the previously discussed desk. There’s a woman dressed in all black, and she smiles at you like it’s the first thing in her job description.

“Hello,” she says politely, “can I help you?”

“Hi,” you answer, walking closer, “I was told to come here, I got a letter in the mail…?” You explain, handing over the papers and hoping she’d know what you were talking about.

She nods, looks them over, and then smiles at you again. “You’re in the right place,” she says, picking up a pile of papers, “here, some basic information. You’ll find an assigned room on the first page, map of the area on the second, and any important contact details for questions you might have. If there’s any issues, you can always find someone to help here.” She explains while handing you the papers, “and to get you started, I need to fill in some files to update that you’ve arrived. Are you going to be staying right away or are you just here to check in?”

You try your best to orient yourself, taking in all the new information and balancing the pile of papers hoping not to drop any. “Yes,” you answer, “I’ll be staying as of now, if that’s okay.”

She nods again, and looks at something on her desk. “That’s perfectly okay. I’ll just need some information and then you can start getting settled in.”

You nod back at her, and brace yourself for having to explain the…less than standard circumstances under which you’d ended up there. But she doesn’t ask about that; she just wants your name, contact info, and possible allergies or dietary restrictions, and if you need any special accommodations. You answer her questions, quietly surprised that they cared this much.

“Any goals?” She asks, and you don’t know how to answer.

“What do you want to do here?” She continues, and you just blink at her for a second.

You understood the question, you did, but it still didn’t entirely…compute. What you wanted to do?

Were they not going to tell you?

You blink at her as she waits patiently, with a steady customer-service smile on her lips, and then you answer with a very clever-sounding Um.

You take a breath and start again.

“I’m not sure,” You start, “what can I do here?”

Ha. Answering a question with a question. Getting more information. Smart.

The customer service smile on her lips doesn’t waver, and she just nods a little, handing you a new pile of papers, stapled together. “You can find all offered study courses here,” she says, “what you can get started with depends on your previous level of knowledge, of course. The current research topics being focused on at the Academy are also listed in the back, if you want to get included in a research project.”

You nod absent-mindedly in response, taking the newly offered papers.

“We’ll arrange for someone to help you get started,” she continues, and it doesn’t seem like you have a choice in the matter. “They’ll leave a letter for you so you can arrange a meeting. Are you familiar with anyone here yet, someone who could show you around?”

You shake your head a little, “No,” you answer, “not really. I got this letter from someone named Viktor, he seems to be at least vaguely familiar with my whole…situation, but I haven’t met him.”

“Ah, yes.” The woman nods again, smiling. “We’ll let him know you’ve arrived. In the meantime,” she hands you another stack of papers, “here are some forms for you to fill out to figure out which courses might be suitable for you, based on previous experience.” She smiles, and your heart staggers a little.

Previous experience?

Previous academic experience?

Technically speaking, you didn’t have much of that. Probably not even enough to be standing in the building, according to protocol. Technically speaking, you probably weren’t qualified for much. You were, broadly speaking, self-taught.

She smiles encouragingly, clearly misinterpreting the worry on your face. “And don’t worry, you’ll learn your way around in no time, the people here are really helpful.”

Even the ones who aren’t being paid to do it? You think to yourself, but just swallow sound your nerves, smile, and nod at her.

She smiles back, that customer service smile of a mission accomplished, and then she sends you on your way.

You could figure out the technicalities later. You had been accepted; they had invited you. It’d be fine. Probably. Now you at least have a map, and some guidelines to go by. You eye over the papers quickly on your way to find your room, and hope that you will, indeed, find your way around.

You find your room with only minor difficulty, and on the way there, you have to stop yourself from staring at, well, everything. It’s jarring; how clean everything is, how big everything is. How high the ceilings are. How much light the windows let in. How everyone’s shoes look brand new.

There are visible creases in the pants of most people who pass you by, and not the kind that come from being in one position a lot. The kind people press into their pants on purpose. Everyone looks shiny, and – just walking on one hall you can’t help but think that the clothes and jewelry these people are wearing probably cost more than anything you’d seen in your life before, like, ever. Cumulatively.

It’s like you’re in an aquarium. Looking at these beings that just…live in a totally different world.

You wonder if they can tell.

When you get to your room, which is, of course, the fanciest room you’ve ever been in, you take a moment to just stand in the silent room and breathe. The air is remarkably non-dusty, and you’re feeling a little light headed, though that might just be from the…well, everything.

It’s both incredible and a little bit upsetting, seeing that some people just…really did live like this. You have to push that to the back of your mind, because it felt like too much to realize all at once. It felt unfair, that you’d lived your whole life not knowing that a life like this, a world like this existed, and then – knowing that so many people were still down there, slowly suffocating and not really even realizing how clean the air up here was.

You take a deep breath and push that aside, too. If you were going to do something about that, standing there didn’t help. No point wallowing in the past – you were here to make things better. You were here to make a change. And to do that, you had to get started.

And – if these people up here were really living like this, damn were you going to get your piece of it.

You grab the pile of papers you’d gotten, a really fancy-looking pen, and set out to find the closest cafeteria. You were going to eat the best free meal of your life, and figure out which classes to sign up for.

You’re not sure how you feel about the cafeteria. Yes, it’s amazing, and you couldn’t quite believe they just let you eat whatever for free when you show a badge you’d gotten with the papers, the walls are white and shiny and there are tall marble pillars around the halls.

There are more fruits you’ve seen in your life, and your heart sinks a little as you’re picking what to eat. Because – yes, you were hungry and yes, you were absolutely going to take advantage of this, but bloody hell were you aware how many people were out there going hungry and eating stale bread and moths-old dry root vegetables.

You have to push that thought aside to be able to order yourself a warm drink, and then you settle to a comfortable-looking corner table to focus on the piles of papers you had to go through.

You fill out questions about your background, about your experience, about your interests. About the…personal project you’d been working on before being admitted here. You try to figure out what your options were here and, to be safe, you check the boxes for signing up for really basic classes. Truthfully, a lot of the names didn’t really tell you what the classes were about, but you made a few bold guesses and chose an engineering track. That should roughly align with what you already knew a fair bit about, and – if it didn’t, at least they were all supposed to be very, very basic. Something you could hopefully handle.

The questionnaire is, in some places, disheartening, full of questions with anagrams you couldn’t decipher, which made you feel incredibly stupid (and then you have to take a deep breath and remind yourself that no, you weren’t stupid, you just hadn’t had access to this information before).

It felt like jumping into the deep end of the lake, when the water was murky and you couldn’t see far below the surface.

You had no idea what to expect from these classes. You had no idea what they would teach, what they would expect you to know, what the other people would be like. But – you weren’t the first student to start there, so it would all be fine. Probably.

You’d handled worse.

You stay in the cafeteria late, and the constant buzz of people steadily decreases. By the time you leave – with another hot drink to go – it’s dark outside and the halls are mostly silent. You drop off the forms you’ve filled at the front desk, and there’s a different smiling woman there now, who happily takes them and tells you she’ll register you right away, and urges you to go pick out an uniform for yourself, telling you could start classes in the morning.

Doing as you’re told, you where you’re instructed, and find a “storage room” which is more like a fancy shop, with different variations of the Academy uniform pieces on display. There is a young boy standing behind a counter, one of those shiny-looking people again, dark-skinned and young enough to probably be another student, and with probably the best posture you had ever seen anyone stand in.

He talks you through the different pieces, how they were intended to be worn, and then leaves you to pick some for yourself. For free, of course.

You’d seen people wear the uniforms, of course. And subconsciously, you’d thought you’d probably get one too. You just hadn’t really thought about it.

You run your hand over the different fabrics gently, and each and every one of them feels expensive. You didn’t know much about how clothes were manufactured here, but you would bet that these were all better quality clothes than you’d ever had before. Thick, and heavy fabrics, tight-woven and precisely cut and finished. You didn’t know much about clothes, but looking at these it was clear they were made with much more care than what you were used to.

When you get back to your room, there is a letter waiting for you.

Letter

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane fanfic

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