#fanfic chapter

[edmetalqueer]

*!*!* Three Hearts *!*!* (Chapter 5)

Find Info About This Chapter Here.

WARNINGS: Violence, Cigarettes, Violence, Blood, Homophobia, Bullying, Alcohol, Sexual Tension, Body Insecurities, Anxiety, Swearing.

B/S = Body Size.

Y/N sat in his car, remembering the night at the party last night, grinning. He looked at his clock, sighing, starting to walk to the school building.

He remembered he had P.E today, not his favourite subject. He wasn't really big on sports, he preferred other stuff. He still had to go to class, he mainly went to P.E cause he knew Harrington always goes to P.E.

Y/N walked into the locker room, the room filled with other students changing into their P.E clothes. Y/N spotted Eddie in the locker room, much to his surprise. He never thought Eddie was the type to go to P.E.

Y/N went to one of the empty lockers in the boys changing room, opening it. He noticed that the new kid, Billy Hargrove, also was participating in P.E. Y/N felt uncomfortable being in this room, the air heavier, the smell of stinky teenagers mixed with irrating colognes & deodorants.

Y/N took his shirt off, feeling more uncomfortable as he changed to his P.E shirt. Looking in the room, most of the other students having "perfect" built bodies, meanwhile he had a B/S body.

Y/N put on the rest of his P.E clothing, walking out to where the others were at. Y/N walked up to Eddie, tapping his shoulder. Eddie turned around, smiling at Y/N, "Hey, L/N! You also got P.E?" Eddie asked, Y/N nodded, grinning.

"Why else would i be here?" Y/N laughed, his anxiety slowly fading away, he knew that his safe with Eddie.

Y/N noticed Steve, smiling, waving at him, "Hey, Steve!" Y/N said, grinning, Eddie looked at Steve then at Y/N, "Why are you saying hi to him?- He hates freaks like us-" Eddie said, Y/N smiled, "His changed, Munson." Y/N said.

Steve ran over to Eddie & Y/N, struggling to walk still. "Hey, Y/N! Oh- Hey, Munson.-" Steve said, scratching his back, smiling.

Eddie glanced at Steve, grabbing Y/N's hand, "Hey, Harrington." Eddie said, smiling back at Steve.

Y/N let out a awkward laugh, looking at the two men standing with him.

Then P.E started.

Y/N sat on the bench, drinking out of his water bottle, watching Billy Hargrove climbing the rope. Watching how his ass was moving when climbing the rope, how the sweat dropped down from his body. How his legs wrapped around the rope. Y/N couldn't stop staring, it was like he was under a spell, a spell of filthy thoughts.

Y/N saw how Billy turned around to look at him, their eyes meeting. Y/N quickly looked away, he couldn't be in love with three men. That wasn't possible, or was it?

Billy climbed down from the rope, walking over to Y/N, grabbing his own water bottle, drinking it like a animal.

Y/N felt his cheeks heating up, staring at the way Billy's Adam apple bobbed when swallowing the water.

"What are you staring at, homo?" Billy spat at him, smirking. Y/N let out a annoyed groan, "Nothing, Hargrove. Your just perverted." Y/N spat back.

Steve walked up to Y/N, sitting down next to him too, "Y/N- is he a problem?" Steve asked, Y/N shook his head, smiling at Steve.

"Don't worry about me, Stevie." Y/N said, ruffling Steve's hair.

Billy glared at Steve, the feeling of wanting to punch Steve building up.

It was Free Period, everyone was hanging outside or in the halls. But lots of people was running outside for some reason. Y/N raised an eyebrow, walking outside to see what was happening.

In a middle of a crowd was Steve Harrington & Billy Hargrove stood, both ready for a fight. Y/N couldn't spot Eddie. But that was cause Eddie was on his way to interrupt the fight.

"C'MON, HARRINGTON, HIT ME!" Billy said, laughing, shirtless. Steve spat at the ground, gritting his teeth.

Eddie pushed people aside, a confident smile on his lips. He never did this a lot, or at all for that matter, but he felt like he could prove his beloved Y/N something. "HARGROVE, HARRINGTON." Eddie laughed out.

Eyes was on the three now, the tension high.

Y/N let out a annoyed groan, joining in on the three idiots about to fight. "YOU THREE ARE MANIACS, FIGHTING ON SCHOOL GROUNDS?" Y/N yelled out, glaring at Billy, Eddie & Steve.

Billy spat on the ground, staring at Y/N, "You protecting your two homo boyfriends, L/N?" Billy grinned. Y/N hit Billy right in the face, spitting on the ground, glaring at Billy with anger. "You are pathetic, Hargrove. I could tell everyone here about the bathroom incident at the party last Friday." Y/N said.

Eddie smiled, wrapping his arm around Y/N, "YOU HIT HIM GOOD, L/N-" Eddie said, Steve smiled too, grabbing Y/N's hand.

Y/N sat on his car hood, smoking a cigarette, listening to Iron Maiden. He hadn't cleaned his hand off so Billy's blood was still on his hand.

Y/N never was the type to fight, but he lost his temper today.He hated whenever the word homo was used as a insult. He remembered that there was supposed to be a party hosted soon. He'd already been to so many parties this weekend though.

He decided it was better not to leave to go to a party, he had plenty alcohol at home.

Y/N sat on his couch, drinking a beer. He was watching some crappy romance movie while trying to study for a upcoming test. He had it hard focusing. Chugging down more of the beer.

Y/N heard the doorbell ring. He was confused as who it could be, especially at this hour. Y/N stood up, walking to the door. His hair a mess. He swung the door opened, annoyed.

It was none. Nothing was there. Y/N was ever more confused. "What the hell?" Y/N muttered under his breathe, looking around outside. It probably could be some kids trying to pull a prank on him.

Y/N didn't feel like dealing with some brats today. His body felt weaker. The alcohol really had a kick on him. He chugged down another beer can, staring around more. "HEY. WHO IS IT?" He yelled.

Someone walked out of their car, looking at Y/N. Y/N couldn't quite see who it was. His mind was fucked up. His vision was blurrier.

Y/N heard a voice, a familiar voice. He remembered that voice, a voice he'd loved since forever. A voice he knew very well. Steve Harrington.

Y/N felt himself collapsing onto the ground. Everything going black. His body tired.

Steve quickly tried picking Y/N up, taking him inside the house. He was only meant to give Y/N his bag that he forgot at school, but now he has to take care of him. Steve placed Y/N down on the couch, running to go get some wet towels.

Steve walked over back to the couch, looking at the mess. Beer cans on the table along with school papers scattered on the table. He knew he couldn't leave this house until he knew Y/N was all better.

He started cleaning up the mess, slightly annoyed at this. He looked over at Y/N's passed out body, smiling. "You should be thankful that i came when i did." Steve muttered out, kissing Y/N's cheek lightly, then returning to cleaning up.

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TAGLIST: @chqrmiing@luvbatsy@pie19@persondoingstuff@peterswebshooters156 @justbluenight @maxthecrucified @marvel-dead-body @massivebooklover123 @sharklight-express @alexhostghost @confuseddipshit @angrybluebirdgladiator @metal-freakzoid @scrappybear89 @qlqstqr @tipsticky @urmom456 @cptg00s3 @snipermask1

#king lover and the freak #fanfic chapter #chapter 5 #stranger things x male reader #stranger things #male reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #billy hargrove #stranger things characters are gay #billy hargrove x male reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x eddie x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson

[ponds-of-ink]

Notre Dame AU Chapter 10: “Entering The Court”

Ruin really just said “here, have some extra lore to spice up your incredibly alternate universe :]” and I couldn’t be happier.

Anyway, here’s the next chapter to celebrate! :D

(Also, character spoilers are in the tags because I wanted to tag accurately. At least you’ll see them shortly?)

-

After a few quiet moments of navigating this twisted landscape, Vanessa and Agonia finally arrived at their destination. The kingdom and its forest, though charred and battered, still triggered reactions from both travelers. For Vanessa, an extra pang from the stab wound. For Agonia, a somber expression with a twinge of homesickness. “I hope that the bell tower is still standing,” he admitted as they wandered through the last rows of blackened trees. “I wanted to ring in the hour one more time.”

“Hey, looks like you’ll get that chance,” Vanessa replied, gesturing to a tall structure in the distance. “The bell’s intact and everything.”

Agonia hobbled ahead, processing the sight before him. The castle was still looming, yes, but patterned wires had ensnared the entire structure. Violet-colored patterns, from what he could tell.

Once they reached the courtyard, the rabbit approached a bundle of wires spreading up the tower like ivy. He cautiously neared them and put his hand out. Some energy pulsated through, but not enough to cause anything.

He got even closer. Surely, if he...?

Vanessa put a hand on his arm. “I don’t think you should be messing with those,” she advised gently, shaking her head. “What if they drain your battery?”

Agonia slowly lowered his arm. He let out a sigh through his voice box. “That.. is a good point,” he conceded sadly. “Perhaps we will find out what they do later?”

Vanessa only shrugged before pushing on the door. She shoved with all her might, but only a sliver of progress showed on the door. “It’s jammed shut,” she grumbled, resting on the doorframe. “Someone must’ve blocked it while we were traveling.”

“That is not the only door,” Agonia smiled, maneuvering around another large strand of wires. “There is another. Follow me.”

Vanessa carefully moved behind him as they circled around to the back part of the building. The blackened glass windows made her shudder. “Whatever’s lurking in there must be a nightmare to deal with,” she remarked, trying to keep a steady tone. “We’ll have to be ready for anything.”

“If this threat is electronic, I can handle it,” assured Agonia while he placed his hand on a plain metal door. “Part of my training required me to know about how to handle faulty programming.” As if to prove his point, he sent a surge of purple electricity through the door. The lock turned with a heavy thunk.

Vanessa reluctantly pushed the opened door. “I just feel like we might get ambushed,” she explained as they stepped inside. “And I don’t just mean by the judge.”

The door ominously shut behind them. Only two or three candles flickered in the darkness of the hallway. Vanessa led the way, using the faint LEDs on Agonia’s robotic form for extra light. She wandered into the slightly charred main foyer, then crept her way to a side door. Placing her ear against the fake stone, she listened closely. A distant jingle made her eyebrows raise.

Agonia would’ve asked her about what she found, but she had already swung open the door and hurried down the steps. He lingered behind, keeping his ears ready for anything. Aside from the echoing drips of water from the bottom of the staircase, nothing alerted him... yet.

Vanessa stopped, finally remembering to look to behind. She raised her finger to her mouth, then signaled her follower to come close. Her watch illuminated the narrow passage before them. Pure stonework made the walls and ceiling. A gravel path with a vague trail of human-like feet imprints. No other light to aid them as they trudged along. All signs clearly pointed to what Vanessa suggested, yet they continued on.

The jingling resumed, but now it was much closer. Vanessa turned off her watch. Agonia positioned himself like he was her living shield. Both braced for the inevitable.

Two bluish rectangles shone in the darkness. Then, a floating red circle joined in. Seconds later, a beam of orangish light revealed the source. “Well, look who it is!” Moon chortled hoarsely, twirling a flashlight in his hands. “The golden knight and her...” He leaned towards Agonia, examining him closely under the flashlight’s rays. “Spy for the judge!” the former jester exclaimed, veering back. “That wouldn’t do! That won’t do!”

Vanessa unsheathed a dagger from her pants pocket. “He’s not a spy!” she retorted angrily, her weapon-wielding arm stretching in front of the puzzled rabbit. “He’s just—“

Two hands nimbly tied a thick scarf around her mouth and neck. “Don’t interrupt me!” Moon hissed as he did the same for Agonia. “You’re very clever to have found our little hideaway. Too bad you naughty children won’t be able to tell the tale...”

Moon laughed again as he sprang past his two captors. With a floaty skip and a twirl, he bounded over to a certain section of the wall and pressed down on a loose brick. A rush of glockenspiel clangs gave way to thumping, ominous cellos. Light entered through the other end of the passageway, though Moon was sure to steer clear of it. His voice grew less shrill and raspy as he led an unseen choir that sounded like ghostly echoes of yesteryear.

Maybe you've heard of a terrible place

Where the spiders and monsters collect in a lair

Maybe you've heard of that mythical place

Called the Court of Miracles—

“Hello, you’re there!” Moon cried out from behind, making his captives jump. As his invisible helpmeets continued, he guided them down the lit part of the hallway.

Where the lame can walk

And the blind can see—

“But the ‘dead’ don’t talk!” Moon cut in again, before ramming the pair against a plain wooden door. “So you won't be around to reveal what you've found!” was the only warning that those two received for that.

As Vanessa and Agonia hobbled into this new area, Moon eagerly pulled them along— All while wrapping up the song, of course.

We have a method for spies and intruders

Rather like hornets protecting their hive

Here in the Court of Miracles,

Where it's a miracle if you get out alive!

Moon thrusted the two prisoners onto the ground. Agonia, being in a robotic body, managed to open his eyes first. He squinted as if that would help his servos recalibrate faster. He did, however, manage to spot two things: An old computer wired to a box and some sort of nightmarish contraption made up of mangled Daycare toys and endoskeleton parts. A contraption that, if he reverted to old habits, he could dismantle in seconds.

A hidden smile shone underneath his scarf. Yes. That sounded like a “fun” idea.

So, as soon as Moon concluded some rambling prelude, Agonia “begrudgingly” marched behind his ‘executioner’. Vanessa followed suit, though to say that she was very confused and genuinely annoyed would be an understatement.

Both lined up at their stations. Moon hopped between them, his long fingers rapidly setting up each trap. He was humming the second verse rather than singing it now, but the pair was able to catch most of it. “Any last words?” he asked once he finished his preparations.

Vanessa tried to yell a counter-argument, but the scarf muffled every word. Agonia, meanwhile, expressed his sentiments with a more deadpan tone.

“That’s what they all say,” Moon sneered, skipping his way to the cubical computer. He flicked a switch on the side, readied some sort of program, then attempted to lead the tune into a crescendo.

“Wait, I object!” Moon’s hand puppet called, flailing its little yellow arms.

“Overruled!” Moon snarled back.

“I object!”

“Quiet!” Moon hissed, furiously whacking the doll on the head.

“Hey...” was all the puppet could stammer out before going limp.

Moon chortled. He resumed his business, now switching his singing protocols last minute. The orchestra instantly swung into a different key, as if it was expecting a grander finish.

You must be sad that your “life's” at its finish

Because of some rightness you want to display

But you must recall that it comes to me pard’ning

the worst crime of all...

...So you’re going to pay!

Though puzzled by the sudden shift in the lyrics, Agonia prepared for the worst. He shut his eyes. His hands clenched. All his ghostly energy was primed for transferring. It now was up to Moon to activate the computer.

Or it would’ve been if a third stranger didn’t creep up behind Moon and jammed an orange-handled prong into the back of his head. Moon struggled against it, but it was no use. His entire body slumped onto the floor.

Agonia and Vanessa looked behind. Vanessa’s look of relief turned into shock. There was her old mask, but a little girl was holding it. Vanessa tried to warn the newcomer, but her mouth was still covered.

“It’s okay,” the girl assured, putting the orange-plated tool in her pocket. “Moon should be resetting soon. All I did was plug the Faz-Wrench into his head. Guess all the stuff that happened here really got to him..”

Vanessa nodded in acknowledgment, then pointed to the mask with her foot.

“Oh, this?” the girl questioned, slipping the accessory back on with ease. “I found it somewhere a while back. It’s been making me see all kinds of crazy stuff—“ She cut off her own remark as soon as she noticed Agonia.

Agonia–who by this point had undone his restraints–carefully neared Vanessa. He said nothing, but it was clear that the girl was paying close attention. Even after he untangled Vanessa’s scarf, his attention was fixed on the newcomer.

The girl slowly bobbed her head, then removed her mask. “Sorry, Mr. Bellringer,” she said softly. “I’ll try to be more careful.”

Agonia smiled warmly, then loosed Vanessa from the contraption. Vanessa took a step forward, but the girl made it to them first. “What in the world did he say, Cassie?” Vanessa asked, getting down to the youth’s eye level.

“He told me that I shouldn’t be wearing your mask so much,” Cassie explained, handing it to Vanessa. “Something about ‘Judge Glitch’ using it to track me.”

Vanessa looked back at Agonia. Agonia gave a look of approval.

“He’s not wrong,” Vanessa added with an eye roll. “Back in the day, Glitch could use my mask as a way to track my... ‘progress”. Now that I’ve reprogrammed it, though, the worst that could happen is your head getting scrambled for the next few days.”

Agonia lowered an ear. Huh. He didn’t know about that.

“You should use it less, though,” Vanessa resumed, keeping her focus on Cassie. “Glitch has every opportunity to make sure your face gets glued to that thing. Literally.”

“Does... he have glitter glue?” a soft voice chimed in, alarming everyone else. Moon woke up, but his colors were now a strange mix between his two forms.

Agonia shook his head to the combined jester. He then mimed one potential way that malfunction could happen: A false signal to the mask’s system.

“Ohh,” ‘Moon’ said knowingly. “So he wouldn’t need glitter glue. It was just a figure of speech. Thank you, kind sir!”

Agonia grinned in satisfaction. He gave a low bow.

“Moon—Sun?—Whatever program you’re running,” Vanessa sputtered out, now returning to a more authoritative stance. “We need to leave and get Cassie out of here fast. Do you have any idea where we can exit without being noticed?”

The jester’s head whirred this way and that. “Maybe you can leave through the back door,” he suggested, mildly swinging an arm towards large tapestry nearby. “But I wouldn’t try it unless you know it’s safe.”

”Do you think you can scout the area while we get more acquainted?”

“Sure!” the jester exclaimed weakly, lightly bouncing from foot to foot. “It’d be my pleasure to help, Officer Vanessa! And you too, little girl and tall bunny!”

Vanessa refrained from correcting the now-casual robot and stepped aside. All three watched as their new scout hopped his way to the tapestry and slipped out. “Now that we’ve got ‘Eclipse’ out of the way,” Vanessa continued, turning to her new companions, “let’s just sit down and talk. We all need a break after that experience.”

#vanessa fnaf #william afton #cassie fnaf #fnaf au #notre dame au #eclipse fnaf #daycare attendant #fanfic chapter #surprise :)

[secretgaygenttomura]

A Life Worth Living - Chapter 1

A lone moth fluttered past Shigaraki's viewline.

The villain mindlessly swiped at the bug as it perched itself on a windowsill. He looked over at Touya, who was hunched over himself on the couch opposing his; his white hair shimmering against the light of the fireplace in the room. Shigaraki groaned, "I thought your fire didn't attract bugs."

The former Todoroki glared back at his boss, "It doesn't. I haven't seen any since we got here. Have you started coming up with things to complain about these days?"

Shigaraki's brows furrowed; his long hair draping his face in shadows as he snapped his gaze towards the windowsill, "I just saw a moth-" Accusatorily, he pointed at the windowsill, now missing the winged insect, "It landed right there."

Touya rolled his eyes; gesturing his hand towards the spot lazily, "I didn't see shit, boss. Maybe you should get the doctor to check you."

Defensively, "I'm fine!" Shigaraki re-composed himself; shaking his head. "It's a too late for that anyways, Sensei's gonna warp us any minute now."

He said the name gingerly, as if it was a disease. Shigaraki's eyes squinted at Touya's current outfit. It looked less like actual clothes and more like loosely tied together white scraps of fabric. "That's really what you're wearing to this?"

"Of course it is, when you look like you're in hell with what you've got on."

In stark contrast, Shigaraki was uncomfortably fitted into a black three-piece-suit. He scoffed, rolling his eyes. Shigaraki had recently had the realization that his 'Sensei' wasn't the role model he always made himself out to be. In hindsight it was completely obvious.

He treated Shigaraki more like a doll than a human. Dressed him exclusively in things that only he himself, All For One, would wear. Spoke of becoming the next version of him, as if Shigaraki was in any way similar. Trained him in his own theatrical mannerisms and ideals. It was all Shigaraki had ever known.

But now it wasn't. Shigaraki knows now, after his Sensei couldn't be more obvious about his intentions. Shigaraki felt utterly humiliated when it'd happened.

Just three months ago after being reminded of his past traumas and awakening his quirk, All For One forged a copy of his quirk and all others within it, handing it over to Shigaraki as 'the final thing he needed to become the next Symbol Of Evil.' And Shigaraki mindlessly accepted. He'd only realize how badly he screwed himself over the moment his Sensei seized control over his body and acted as if it was his own. And nobody outside the League even noticed, because All For One ingrained his own goddamn personality into Shigaraki's. No one's dared to bring it up since it happened, not even a word.

A feeling of shame washed over Shigaraki every time the thought occurred. And now his Sensei resumes control over him, as he dooms his ward to an unwinnable war. He felt an uncomfortable lump in his throat and immediately grew nauseous. A glance up at Touya quickly proved it wasn't just him, as the villain's hunch was suddenly much more extreme. It was his Sensei's warp quirk. Expelling the liquid from his throat, a dark sludge enveloped them and spat them out on the rooftop of a building on UA grounds.

Touya's voice could immediatly be heard, a sort of groan that could only come from someone who was holding themself back from letting their last meal be spilled over the floor, "God I fucking hate that quirk-"

Shigaraki felt much alike.

All For One grinned wildly from under his protective, new, streamlined helmet. An invisible glare was aimed directly at their apparent two-timing traitor, Yuuga Aoyama. "-That's why you would've never realized... That I had this much cavalry with me! It's already far too late!"

Several top heroes emerged from the other side, from something that looked like Kurogiri's portals as Aoyama screamed about his side's future victory. His own caretaker hadn't betrayed them too, had they?

Touya lashed out immediately from beside Shigaraki with a burst of cerulean flame. It concerned Shigaraki, how sudden the switch of mood was, it was like he spun directly into mania out of the pressure.

"Dabi." Shigaraki called.

It appeared Touya had already caught sight of his father emerging from the opposing portals, announcing with all of his chest, "Didn't think I'd get to meet you here, my dear father! Shall I start with your allies' cremation!?" A bout of laughter escaped from him.

So this is what that ironically cold exterior was hiding the entire time, Shigaraki noted to himself. But there was little time to pay attention to that now. The terrain started to shift around them as stone cages erupted from the ground around them.

Needless to say they were broken through within seconds, but it gave the heroes enough time for their portal quirk to immediately scatter them about all of Japan. They couldn't rely on eachother's help anymore. Shigaraki was spat out into the sky, scrambling to look around him as he fell, then catching a look at the floating fortress that was now UA. It looked like it had emerged right out of a sci-fi movie. As the wind rushed past his ears, deafening him; Shigaraki realized that the escapees and liberation army had failed to accompany him. He was alone. At least, he hoped; wishing that his Sensei wouldn't revoke him of his control once again.

He uprighted himself, applying one of his new quirks to lighten his fall and stick the landing with a hand plunging towards the ground. But as he did so, his quirk detonated explosives in the ground under him. Shigaraki jumped out of the blast range, shielding himself. But as he leaped, he ran himself directly into the electric dome around the fortress, seizing up all his muscles uncontrollably.

He tried to move, but just as that happened, denim struck and wrapped in rope-like constructions all over his body. A glance downward immediately confirmed his suspicion, Best Jeanist had just attempted to bind him to the electrocuting barrier. Shigaraki lashed out, immediately severing the fabric with clawed fingers.

"You must feel safer with me suspended in the air like this, huh?" He evaded fabric snakes skillfully striking around him, "But as soon as I touch the ground again, we'll be outta terrain in no time."

The screech of metal plates scraping against eachother grated against Shigaraki's ears, as Jeanist snarkily commented, "I'm not concerned about that at all."

With a thumb pointing behind him, Jeanist pointed out that the ground that Shigaraki had destroyed was already being replaced by new ground. "We have plenty of material to replace whatever's lost. You're wrong for once, Shigaraki, has your brain short-circuted already?"

The nerve...

"This place was specifically created in order to defeat you." Other heroes emerged from the woodworks. Shigaraki glanced around, trying to identify the team they put together.

Miruko, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, Eraserhead and Manual from the back, and... some kid in a waistcoat.

Extending a hand out in the direction Dynamight was flinging himself at him, Shigaraki didn't bother listening to the teenager's harsh scream. But of course, his quirk did not activate at impact. He could hear laughter, faintly, in the distance,

"Not the biggest fan of erasure, are ya, Mr. "Final Boss"?!"

But of course, Erasure did not target every quirk in his posession. Hyper-regeneration activated, and his right hand grew into a horrific mass of flesh and fingers. He could hear Miruko and Dynamight's shock as he flung the mass directly at the rabbit hero.

It was disappointing really, Shigaraki thought good ol' Eraser's quirk had more potential... "I used to think you were so cool, Eraserhead. What a letdown." His limb grew to unreasonable proportion, then as one of the Erasure users blinked, the Hyper-Regen was deactivated instead of Decay, and Shigaraki aimed his attack at the school, both crushing and starting to reduce the building to ashes.

Obviously, one of the heroes assumed that Eraser's Erasure had full effect on someone with multiple quirks, so when he heard Edgeshot question his power- "What?! Then that's not a quirk?!" - Then, Shigaraki easily lied... A little too easily.

"This is just growth...

Nothing, but flesh.

Just like the hairs on your head, or your nails grow. A quirk will evolve, and so the body must adapt to it, giving birth to a new form."

He could feel his voice uncomfortably shifting towards All For One's formalistic tendencies, and he tried to push it down... But he was fading in and out.

"Heroes..."

"Trying to supress..."

"So oblivious!"

It was repressed under the ringing in his ears, but he heard the heroes arguing, on how to get Midoriya to the battleground. A surge of greed that was not his immediately surfaced, but Shigaraki fought it to stay conscious. Glimpses of the battle reached his consciousness, as the world raged around Shigaraki. Like a broken audio cord causing a speaker to cut in and out. It was incredibly irritating.

He caught flashes of Suneater and Nejire-Chan, who had joined beside the heroes. There was no way he could keep up a battle like this. Why wouldn't his Sensei just leave him alone?!

The annoying tone of his Sensei's poor imitation of him hit his ears, "Various external factors... Molding this body into..." The voice became clearer for a minute, "With this body and it's power, I... Shall create a new world! I'll become god... and rule above everyone else."

Part of Shigaraki thought it was sheer cruelty that their unfortunate bond let him hear just this message of demise for it's original soul. For it was the last thing he'd heard for a while as the world fell into darkness.

The first time this happened, Shigaraki thought he'd died. He was thrown into the depths of a piercing cold that left him grasping for anything that could pull him back. But nothing, not even the vestige of his quirk existed here as a form to take. The cold stung, with a static-like sensation covering his nonexistent body, like if you were to completely cut off all blood circulation and the feeling of pins and needles persisted for hours on end.

His awareness of reality did not return until he heard the most absurd claim he'd ever heard in his life cut through the depths like it was a sword.

"So you never had any friends."

The return was so sudden that Shigaraki didn't even have a chance to compose himself, before instinctually retorting much more like a stubborn, younger version of himself, "I do have friends!! Mikkun and Tomo said 'You're really nice, Ten!' And Mon likes to go on walks with me so of course I have friends!"

He was plunged back into the darkness moments later, the adrenaline dropping immediately as Shigaraki was left confounded on what he just said.If it weren't torture, Shigaraki might have preferred to hide in this awareness purgatory now.

He started getting glimpses again as he regained the ability to push back against his Sensei's power. It was more separated now, and he could tell what was going on again. His Sensei had taken down Dynamight, but in the short time he'd been under, it seemed like Deku had come soon before many thought he would, and Shigaraki was so kindly greeted to the newcomer by a punch directly aimed at his face. From the short time he saw Izuku's face, he saw a merciless rage behind the student's eyes. He could handle one, but the punches kept coming, and a splitting pain appeared in his skull that was not relieved by the Hyper Regeneration quirk, supposedly erased. For a moment, the ashes falling from his destruction looked like snow...

Blood dripped from his scalp, down his forehead and into his eyes, blinding him. Instinctually, he blinked his eyes closed, and… he could have sworn he saw the flap of a moth's wings in the void behind his eyelids.

When his eyes opened again, he was plunged into another void, but it was... different. Colder. The surrounding area was like a vaccuum, it sucked all of the air out of him. So this was death? He had imagined nothingness, a complete lack of awareness, but this was much more painful.

However, he could see clearly, that something existed... A light.

How cliche.

But then, something caught his eye. There was another... And another, and another... They dotted the void like stars. Maybe they were stars… And just like stars, they were held together by immense amounts of gravitational pull. Shigaraki could feel himself being pulled unwillingly towards one. In panic, he tried scrambling away, but it was useless swiping at empty space, as he was dragged into the core of it. A sinking feeling immediately took to his chest, like he was falling from a great height.

And then something touched his shoulder. And then shook it, violently,

"Tenko? C'mon Tenko, wake uuuuup!"

He was shocked awake, instinctually reaching a hand to whoever had bothered him when he was so stressed, his hand coming in contact with a pale arm in a harsh grip.

"Ow-! Ten!!" The familiar voice voice whined, as the person snapped their arm back out of his grip, with tearful dark eyes and a quivering lip, "What was that for?"

He realized who he was looking at, finally. It'd been decades...

"Hana…?"

#fanfiction #writer #ao3 writer #fanfic chapter #my hero academia #tomura shigaraki #all for one mha #dabi #canon compliant #for now #muahaha #this has been a WIP for a couple months that ive been putting off posting bc I dont think many people will see it on my ao3 #but maybe here #a life worth living

[ravensroleplays]

About to go to bed, but before I do, here’s the latest Sins of the Fathers chapter!

#mun's writing #my ahit fanfic #fanfic chapter

[bluejay-writes]

A sort of Fairy Tail - Chapter 10

Rating: T / PG-13, SFW. Fandom: Mystic Messenger Relationships: 707/MC (Jaena)/Saeran Chapter 10 Wordcount: 3147 You can also read this on AO3! <- Also a good place to check tags.

Chapter 10: Coffeeshop AU

Paradigm Coffee was located just south of downtown, and it attracted an eclectic variety of clientele, from the usual hipster coffee crowd, to the tech sector folks who didn’t want to work from the office, to the local goth community, and beyond.

The owners, Tyler and Cassandra, had taken over for her grandfather, who was all too ready to hand off his business to a worthy (and youthful) successor.

The coffee was good - a nice medium blend that didn’t taste burnt like one of the popular chain’s did, and the specialty drinks weren’t bogged down in sugar the way the other popular chain’s were.  If you asked Tyler, their real draw was the food that Cass cooked, down home favorites that kept everyone warm in the cold snowy season, and reminded them of home.  If you asked Cass, their draw was the hot barista. Tyler drew in so many people, women, gay men, teens who wanted to be him. His model looks, golden blonde hair and deep blue eyes made anyone swoon for him. (He disagreed, of course, and wished people would stop hitting on him in front of his girlfriend.) For her part, Cass didn’t mind him getting the attention. She was perfectly happy to blend into the background, with her dark brown hair in its cyberpunk inverted-bob and way too much eyeliner lining her brown eyes.

They had lots of customers, but the regulars always caught their eye.  Sean, who was always there on Wednesday and Friday working from the shop - he ordered a coffee or some kind of baked good at least once an hour, as if he was paying rent on the space.  Oftentimes on Fridays he’d claim the largest table, and throughout the day a gaggle of college students would come and hang out, doing their own assignments or gaming. Oddly popular, that one. Then there was Liz with her long red hair and her boyfriend, the latter who never came inside but always waited outside while she was getting drinks, hood up and skateboard in hand, even in the dead of winter when skateboarding on the city sidewalks was a death wish. Cass always felt like all of them had such unique stories, and she wondered what would happen if she wrote stories around what happened in the shop. 

The news in Seoul was full of stories about the cult up in the mountains, and the millions of won that they’d been contributing to Prime Minister Saejoong Choi’s campaign for President.  The response from his campaign was swift and decisive, denying any knowledge of these donations having been from a cult, and pointed the media to his records, where they were all linked to the parties thrown by the RFA.

The RFA, of course, retaliated with details about all of the Prime Minister’s illicit dealings throughout the years, with a video wherein up-and-coming musical actor Zen presented ‘just a fraction’ of what the Prime Minister had done over the years, which included information about his twin sons, Saeyoung and Saeran, both of whom were missing, along with the RFA’s newest member Jaena, who’d gone missing during her vacation in Seoul earlier that summer. They also implicated the intelligence agency Saeyoung had been first targeted by at the request of his father, and then recruited by later, once the cult had started funneling money to the Prime Minister through it.

The coverage was so thorough that the news spread to other countries, appearing on every local news station, the scandal and terror of the cult’s existence and the way it preyed on the fatigue of white-collar workers and the general lack of proper discourse about mental health issues becoming trending topics across social media. The fact that an American woman had gone missing amidst the scandal did its part to make the situation an international one, when it might otherwise have stayed isolated.

A few weeks into the tense media circus that surrounded the situation, Saeyoung Choi reappeared, worse for wear, but alive. He explained how he’d been taken by his father in an attempt to clear his name, but between the RFA’s information campaign and the dissolution of the agency, there way no way to use him to that effect. The Prime Minister was booked by the authorities on several felony counts, as well as multiple more pending, and the leadership of the Agency likewise.

People were so shocked by Saeyoung’s reappearance that he had interviews on basically every channel, and even was a guest on Noprah’s show, where he basically told his life story, including fighting his way free of the agency that basically owned him, losing, finding, and losing his brother, and meeting but missing out on the woman of his dreams. At Noprah’s insistence, he made a plea into the camera at the end of the segment.

“Wherever my little brother and my perfect scarlet are out there, I hope they’re watching. I love you both so much, and I hope you’re taking care of each other. Stay put, I’ll find you soon. I promise.”

Cass tore her eyes away from the TV in the corner that was showing that episode of Noprah again. Daytime TV was the worst. That episode aired over a year ago, and they were still rerunning it.

“That episode is always on.” the girl at the counter said, and Tyler laughed.

“Yeah, that whole thing was an entire time. I’m so glad we live in a civilized country.” he said, and Cass just rolled her eyes.

“Plenty of bad things happen here.” Cass said with a smirk. “But that ginger really is a media darling, isn’t he?”

“Wasn’t that around the same time as you started running the shop here?” The counter girl asked, grinning.

“Yeah, actually. I think his Noprah segment was the first thing that was ever on that TV.”

“And it’ll be the last, too.” Cass said, rolling her eyes. “They’re never going to get sick of airing that nerd.”

“He’s cute though!” counter girl said, and then slapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh my god, don’t tell my boyfriend I said that, I’ll never live it down.”

“Haha, we won’t.” Tyler said, and Cass reached out to tousle his golden blonde locks. 

“You need a haircut. Quick before winter hits and you just hide it under hats until it’s unbearable.”

“Baaaaabe, we’re at work!” Tyler pouted, and she laughed and kissed his cheek.

“Okay, okay, I’ll leave off until later.”

“Crazy lovebirds.” The girl at the counter said, standing. “Thanks for the coffee, see you next time!”

“Bye Liz!” They chorused unintentionally, and waved as the girl with long red hair sauntered out of the coffee shop, meeting up with a boy in a hoodie who’d been standing outside smoking while she got coffee.

When she was gone, Cass let out a breath she didn’t realize was trapped. 

Tyler sighed. “Gods, she reminds me of…”

“…Jaena.” Cass said, nodding. “You really do need a haircut.”

“I do. And your roots need a touchup.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

Later, in their tiny apartment above the coffee shop, Cass sat scrolling through Tripter on her laptop, her brows creased in a slight frown. Tyler walked up behind her, and started massaging her shoulders. “Checking in on Zen and Yoosung again?” he asked, and she nodded.

“It’s easy to check in on the famous ones. I know the articles about Jumin’s abortive presidential bid and supposed illicit relationship with Jaehee are all trashy journalism, but at least Yoosung’s meTube channel shows me the face he wants me to see, and Zen’s tripter is still full of thirsty women as usual. He’s got a new role, looks like he’ll be starring in Phantom.”

“Oh, that’s lovely.” Tyler said, but she could tell his heart wasn’t in it. He turned away from her, and went into the kitchen, puttering about uselessly.

“Ty…”

He turned to look at her, and his cheeks were wet. Immediately, she stood and closed the distance between them.

“I don’t want to be Elfstar anymore.” He said, an old reference that not only made her chuckle but also broke her heart. She reached out and gently wiped the tears off his cheeks.

“I love you.” she said, as if it was the only thing that could help him feel better.

“I love you too.” he said, pulling her into a hug. “But I shouldn’t. We shouldn’t. I feel so guilty.”

“I love him too, still.” She said. “You’re twins. You’re so similar but so different. I’ve done lots of shady things in my life, but I don’t consider loving two men one of them.”

“Can you just… say my name… once?”

She chuckled, and moved away so she could look him in the eye. “Saeran, dear. You should take those contacts out so we can sleep.”

His cheeks pinked, and he leaned forward to press a soft kiss to her lips. “Okay, Jaena.”

Seasons passed, and summer turned to fall, with the bright colors on the trees flaring to life and fading to brown before falling and being replaced by the unbroken white of fresh snow.

Cass walked up to Tyler, who’d paused at the front door while unlocking it to open. It was a Wednesday, and after the fresh snow last night, it was unlikely they’d have a big crowd. Just in case, Cass made a batch of Mac & Cheese, their sign outside calling it out as the “Warm-up Special.”

“Hey Tyler, you okay?”

“Yeah, I just like looking at the snow. It’s so beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.” Cass said, nudging him in the side.

“No you.” Tyler pouted, and turned to head back to the counter.

As predicted, it was slow. Cass didn’t mind, it gave her time to catch up on her reading. Or, in this case, to be irritated by the perpetual reruns of that same Noprah segment with Saeyoung in it. Fuck, I miss that idiot. 

Distracted by her own thoughts and reminiscences, she wasn’t expecting the sudden influx of college students. She hopped up to assist Tyler who was quickly taking orders. 

“I know you’re not that chain place, but you wouldn’t be willing to write “shitty hair” as my name on my cup, would you?” the student at the counter said, and Cass turned to look at them, exaggeratedly eyeing them up and down. “You look more like a ‘dunce face’ to me.”

Tyler looked at her like she’d grown an extra head. “What did you just…?!”

“OMG is that you, Bakugo? I never knew you were a goth barista!”

Tyler realized, then, that this was a reference to one of her shows, and tuned out, taking the rest of the orders while they continued to chatter on about characters and quirks and who knows what else.  Eventually, drinks were delivered, and most of the group congregated at a set of tables unsurprisingly around where Sean was working. Weird, she thought It’s not Friday. Guess the snow motivated them.

Cass continued to chatter with the student, while Tyler went to take a break in back. That many people was still a lot for him, even after 18 months of experience. When the bell above the door jingled to signal more customers, Cass called “Be with you in a moment!” as she was busy pulling up photos from comic con a few years ago, to show off that Unbreakable Red Riot she’d seen.

“This is still the best cosplay I’ve ever encountered.” she said to the blonde, who took her phone and stared at it. 

“Wow, that had to have been a ton of work.” They said, and handed her phone back.

“You know the best part?” she said, and they shook their head.

“That was my actual hair.” a voice next to them said, tone full of mischief.

Cass’s head snapped to the side so fast she thought she might have given herself whiplash, her mouth gaping open like a fish. Am I hallucinating?

Her call to the customers was also Tyler’s call to come back out front, and he emerged from the kitchen, giving Cass the customary kiss on the cheek that he’d done every day for more than a year, before realizing who was standing in front of him.

“Friend of yours?” he asked, one eyebrow quirked up, which helped Cass get a hold of herself.

“K-kindof?!” Cass squeaked, her fight or flight reflex leaving her frozen but leaning heavily towards flight.

“Wait, is this that cosplayer?” the student she’d been chatting with said, which got the attention of the rest of his group. 

“Whoa, that’s Saeyoung Choi!” one of the girls said, and immediately the redhead standing in front of them was swept up into the hubbub of students, despite any attempt to escape them. Cass took one frightened look at Tyler, who waved her toward the kitchen door, an excuse to exit that she happily took.

Anything could have been happening in the front of the shop. Cass’ blood was pounding in her ears, and she collapsed into one of the break room chairs, and immediately put her head between her knees to try and forestall the panic attack and/or fainting spell that both seemed equally likely given the situation.

What could have been seconds or hours later, the back door from the alley swung open on its creaky hinges and her head snapped back up. No one came in that door, except if they just took the trash out. She left the hinges squeaky on purpose. 

In front of her eyes stood none other than Vanderwood, with one eyebrow quirked up at her, in that way that spoke volumes only he could manage.

“How the fuck… D-dad?!” Her hands slapped over her mouth when she realized what she’d called him, but it was too late.

“I think Alfred would be more appropriate.”

That startled a laugh out of her. “I don’t have Bruce Wayne’s budget, I’m sorry, but your position has been eliminated, sir.”

“You can’t fire me, I quit.” He said gruffly, and turned as if to leave.

“N-no!” She said, suddenly, launching out of her chair so suddenly that it fell over backwards. She ran into him at speed, and wrapped her arms around his middle, managing nothing more than knocking him into the wall with the force of her motion. “You can’t go.” she choked out, having surprised even herself with the tears running down her cheeks.

“I won’t go anywhere. Let me turn around, treasure.”

She dropped her arms, and he turned around and pulled her into his arms, one hand rubbing her back while she sobbed.

“I found you, just like I promised.”

“About fucking time.” she said, between sobs. 

They just stood there for a few minutes, until her breathing calmed, and he let her go.

She opened her mouth to ask something, but was interrupted by a call from the front.

“Cass! I need you, babe!”

“Fuck.” she said, and then louder “Be out in a sec, washing my hands!”

A quick dash to the mirror above the sink by the door to the front - installed for this exact purpose, though she hadn’t needed it for Vanderwood and Seven’s presence ruining her makeup as much as their absence - allowed for her to quick fix her makeup before washing her hands and reappearing as a completely functional coffeeshop owner… to a flood of people who’d shown up when their friends told them Saeyoung was here.

“Whoa.” She said, and Tyler shot her a glance that told him he was already beyond overwhelmed, but even so was more worried about her than about himself. “I’m fine.” She said, immediately getting to work putting together complicated coffee drinks.

“If you need an extra set of hands, I’m happy to help.” Vanderwood’s voice said from just behind the door to the kitchen. “He tends to draw crowds wherever he goes these days.”

Tyler whipped around, already holding a spare apron as Vanderwood stepped through the door. 

“Put this on. Do what Cass tells you.” 

Cass would have been more surprised by Tyler’s tone, except for the fact that he’d known Vanderwood a sum total of 12 hours, 6 of which he’d been asleep, and all of which were 18 months ago.

As he finished tying his apron, Cass looked Vanderwood up and down. “You know how to run an espresso machine?”

“I’ve been making coffee longer than you’ve been alive.” That one-eyebrow look again.

“Good. Recipes for the fancy drinks are on the counter.” She said, and turned to make the complicated smoothie concoctions instead, choosing to trust her chosen father-figure with the coffee that was his lifeblood while Tyler manned the counter and the bakery case.

Finally, they hit a lull, and Cass turned to see Seven looking a little worse for wear. At least to a practiced eye. He was still smiling and being his goofy 707-self, but she could see the strain of it.

“I’m gonna—“ she started.

“Go, he needs it.” Tyler interrupted, and she nodded, dishing up a bowl of mac & cheese and grabbing a PhD Pepper out of the cooler before slipping out from behind the counter and over to the area where Seven seemed to be holding court. He looked up and saw her, and turned to address the group.

“Hey, my dinner’s here. Can we pick this up in a bit?”

For some reason, they all nodded like he was the one doing them a favor by eating, and shuffled off to other tables and conversations.

“Mac & Cheese.” She said, handing him the plate. “And your lifeblood, good sir.”

He didn’t say anything right away, simply took a bite of the food she’d brought, and washed it down with a sip of soda.

“It really is better with the vegetables in it.” He said, then. “Damn vegetables.” He looked at the dish as though it personally betrayed him.

“It meets your standards then I hope, Mister Celebrity.”

“More than. God, Scarlet. You look so different. If I hadn’t heard you talking about my cosplay, I might have missed you entirely.”

“I never would have missed you, my Red Riot.” she said, quietly, trying to keep herself from crying. “Not in a million years.”

“Was 18 months too long to wait?” he said suddenly, sharply, his gaze not on her but on the counter, where Tyler had his back to them and was walking Vanderwood through something. “Who’s the handsy blonde, and where the hell is my brother?”

Cass froze at his initial question and then slapped a hand over her mouth to cover her laugh at his follow-up questions.

“Seven, I… your brother is behind the counter. He’s blonde. He’s your fucking twin, how did you not recognize him?! You Have. The Same. Face.”

Seven blinked, then shook his head. “Seven.exe has stopped working. Abort, Retry, Fail?”

Author's Note: Saeran's commentary about not wanting to be Elfstar anymore is an old school (as old as 1984...) reference to anti-D&D religious propaganda, specifically a chick tract called "Dark Dungeons". I don't agree with any of the messages from that hate group, but it's one hell of a meme, and seems like exactly the kind of shit the twins would know about and mock-reference. Here's an article from The Escapist about the tract, that has a good breakdown of what it's about without furthering the hate.

#mysme #mystic messenger #fanfic #fanfic chapter #choi twins

[revolversandlace]

Blemished Silk | Chapter Four - Towing Your Slipstream

Arthur Morgan x f!OC 

Mature Rating - 3.7k Words 

Chapter Tags: Angst, Canon Universe, Slow Burn, f!OC POV

Summary: Ten years after escaping her wealthy but traumatic past, Amelia’s business has now fallen on hard times.

Scarlett Meadows, January 1899  

‘Mr Jameson, what was the last count of our lumber production?’ Amelia inquired, with a pen in her hand. She was sitting at the drawing desk with pricing documents littered across it. Reading the numbers repeatedly, she felt a slight shiver from the winter air tickle at her spine.

‘Six hundred thousand.’ The man commented.  

For someone from the area, he was very well spoken. He was a tall man and Mr Jameson had an imposing build, who still sported what Amelia could only describe as the distinctive look of the Old South. With a thick moustache and a handsome set of mutton chops of dark silver, he was, as usual, wearing his navy suit. She always imagined him to be on some poster advertising the Confederacy, but thankfully, his mind far exceeded his exterior.  

‘Of board feet?’ She said, almost to herself, analysing all the costing and units before her.  

‘The resources of the south were never great, and well, quite frankly, it’s drying up.’ He remained composed, with only the slightest twitch of his thick moustache.  

‘This is all we have for the year? Even with the northern production?’ She didn’t mean to sound so cross with Mr Jameson, but she found the numbers - to say the very least - alarming.  

‘It’s more than enough to cover costs of labour and production and to still render you in the profit. The trees aren't what they used to be. Especially with all that business of the northwest cropping up and down the coast.’  

She knew he was right, but she couldn’t help but feel glum about the prospect.

In the past ten years, Amelia had devoted her entire life to building her empire in lumber and, more recently, wool. Much to the dismay of her American counterparts, she secured cheap but fair labour from outlaws, the coloureds and the natives.  

With a soft sigh, she swigged at her bourbon. God, she hated the liquor this far south. The burning heat hit the back of her eyes, leaving an acidic trail down to her gut, but at least it comforted her from the icy air that crept without mercy into the office room.

‘If this carries on, we’ll only be making two thousand dollars by the end of the year. Which by next year won’t even be enough to cover production, let alone worker dividends.’  

Amelia could feel her advisor’s eyes fix on her. Matching his gaze, she chewed at her lip, throwing the pen down and leaning back into her chair as she shook her head.  

‘You have options, ma’am if you don’t mind me to say so. I don’t think it would be over prudent to sell your southern assets and focus on the northern industry.’ With his hand clasped behind his back, Mr Jameson prostrated himself. In the cold winter afternoon, one could do little to hold off the shiver regardless of the fires they lit around the property.

She peered into the furthest corner of the room. After everything she had accomplished - after years of establishing herself as a woman of business - her pride would not allow her to sell any of her assets. Especially in the knowledge that the pig of a man, Leviticus Cornwall, was desperate to strengthen his capital in the southeast in both timber and tobacco. Unfortunately, he seemed to be the only likely candidate that could afford to purchase the assets for a fair price.

‘I will think about it and confer with Uncle whenever he chooses to make an appearance.’ Her voice was tiring and she could feel it. Not just in her face or her words, but deep in her joints. It was not uncommon for Amelia to overwork herself, but the toll of a failing business ravaged her mind.

It felt as though she was trying to catch running water with a handkerchief. However, as her advisor dipped his head towards her - she knew the surrounding people would be there to support her, no matter the choice or cost.  

‘How is your wife, Mr Jameson? It must be some time since you have seen her?’ Amelia commented, attempting a lighter note of the conversation, more for her own sake than anyone else’s. She rose from the desk and headed towards the decanter on the shelving beside her.  

The room itself was orchestrated in a very particular manner. The teak desk lay in the very heart of the room, with a large colonial-style window behind her. It attempted to allow as much muggy air that was possible which after the current snow blizzard seemed like a distant memory.  

On the walls to the side, they had the façade of opulent black walnut shelving with books, both leather-bound and fabric, shoved into every space possible. It was an imposing room that - although Amelia found nothing but comforting - could create an appropriate amount of intimidation to those that gave an audience to her.  

‘Yes ma’am,’ Mr Jameson began, relaxing his posture somewhat, ‘she is doing fine, well, so she says in the letters. Our youngest is set to go to Boston, to that new university for women. Simmons, they call it.’  

Amelia poured two fresh glasses, sensing the smile and pride of her advisor talking about his daughter.  

‘I’m sure it’s a fine establishment,’ Amelia said with a matching smile as she handed the glass out.  

‘Well, she has taken a great influence from you, ma’am,’ Mr Jameson nodded as he took the glass filled with the honey colour liquor.  

‘Please ensure you let me know when she is to enroll. I’ll arrange for you to have some leave and spend some time with your family. You’ve served me very well these past few months. It’s the least I can do.’ Amelia smiled with ease, not hesitating to take another large gulp of the brandy. It was her preferable choice over the bourbon.  

‘That’s....’ Mr Jameson stuttered, ‘that’s very kind of you ma’am and much appreciated.’ His eyes dropped, seeking refuge in the glass. It was not often he was discomposed, but Amelia was well aware of the deep care and love he bore for his family, especially his daughters - all five of them.  

Mr Jameson had begun his employment with Amelia not three years ago. As recommended by her uncle, he was everything she could hope for in a Steward. A kind man, he was also well astute with numbers and people. Over the years he helped her navigate the politics of the south, which was exceptionally important for a foreigner such as herself.  

Although the business had taken a swift and profitable beginning, it came rather quickly at a price. Yet with the help of Mr Jameson, Amelia had stayed well away from local feuds and gained the trust of the public in her goods and wears. When it became apparent that she was an Englishwoman who was running the business, it did not take long for the word to spread through the Conservative backwaters.  

It reserved women in power for a family setting only in parts like these, and although some - such as the ghastly Mrs Braithwaite continued her husband’s legacy - it was only through her sheer intimidation and nastiness. Something Amelia had no natural inclination for.

So there she was, an unmarried, foreign woman - now a spinster by most standards - attempting to play the games of men. But this was no game for her.

‘What if...’ Amelia began, pointing a finger as she held the crystal tumbler, ‘it’s rather radical, but I very well may have an idea...’ she trailed off, her eyes leaning off deep in thought. The numbers weren’t there yet, but it would beyond doubt evoke divided opinions. She thought about the idea that had just come to her.

The silence grew longer, and it was almost as though she was static. Stuck in time and the thought grew larger and larger as though she was watching a child grow from babe to adult in a matter of seconds.  

‘You say that northwest is where the lumber is, Mr Jameson?’ She eyed him, feeling her determination grow, weighing out all the problems that lay in the near future for her business.  

‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said, his eyes passive.

As though caught in her thought, he shuffled where he stood, waiting for whatever she was about to say next.  

‘Then in that case I think it would be wise to stay out of that area…’ Flashing him and knowing smirk, she continued, ‘what if we speak to the Wapiti? I know they have no fondness for the federal government but what if we can almost...’ Scrunching her mouth, Amelia tried to match the numbers.  

She retreated to her desk and pulled the papers from one another.  

‘We’ve lost nearly four hundred thousand board feet of lumber since last year alone. The industry is moving north, but the reservations and the Midwest are stagnant.’ Amelia pulled out the top drawer, she reached for a rolled-up map.  

She unravelled the paper and gesturing to Mr Jameson to join her, she pointed at the forests outlying the tribal lands, tapping her finger on North Dakota, a state a little further east of the ongoing industry.

‘It’s protected land, and for good reason,’ she trailed off, her eyes darting across the map. ‘I could divide our assets and sell them off to smaller, less monopolised buyers. Then we can compensate the tribe for the loss of resources, in payments, food, medicine, whatever it is that they need.’  

The smile was already on her face, turning that imaginary handkerchief into something more tangible.  

‘Ma’am, the Wapiti are a nefarious folk. They will push and push against us. There ain’t no way you could possibly convince them to let you cut down trees. Money or not. They’re proud people.’  

She knew he was right. One of the last true reservations that protected a dying culture. The sun had set on them many years ago. For all they still had, Amelia knew they would not hand it over willingly.  

‘They protect their land,’ her fingers traced across the sketches of trees and mountain contours on the map, ‘but it’s about protecting the land. That’s what they believe, isn’t it?’  

Mr Jameson looked confused, furrowing his thick eyebrows.  

‘Send for Talako. He should be near the stables. I would like to speak with him.’  

The idea was already firm in her mind. Amelia had a plan to save her business whilst bridging a divide that no one in America had done so far.  

When Talako and Mr Jameson returned to the drawing-room, Amelia had fallen deep into the numbers before her. If she could just make a return in the north- even with the subsidies she had planned - she felt certain it was possible by the end of the year to solidify her foothold.  

As the two men approached her desk, Amelia could feel the tiredness creeping further into her. It was nothing new but the sheer prospect of hope that kept her elevated.  

‘You... wanted to see me, ma’am?’ Talako spoke with his usual deep and hoarse voice.  

She glanced up at him with narrow eyes and a soft playfulness on her lips.

As Talako was in charge of the stables, he often looked unkempt, but this afternoon he was utterly dishevelled. Not that this was completely unbecoming of him, either.

‘Rough night?’ Amelia questioned, with a mischievous smirk at the edge of her lips.  

She knew good and well what the workers got up to once the nights drew in; drinking, gambling, some even going off the estate into the saloons for one reason or another. Talako was perhaps the worst for it.  

As bedraggled as he was - nursing no doubt another sore head - he was still a very handsome man, with broad features and muscular hands.  

‘Yes, ma’am,’ he cleared his throat, not looking the least bit ashamed, ‘you know how the boys get,’ he gestured, scratching his clean shaven jaw as Mr Jameson - a traditional man - glared at him in dissatisfaction.  

‘Well, you know the rules, as long as you do not bring harlots onto the property,’ attempting to sound stern, Amelia couldn’t keep the amusement out of her voice, knowing that the slight reprimand made both gentlemen feel uncomfortable.  

Amelia poured three drinks. She passed two over, filling her own more generously than the others.  

‘I wouldn’t want to get robbed again,’ she quipped into the glass, leaning against the desk.

Talako looked to the floor. With a mutter of a ‘no, ma’am,’ but she could see the smile he tried to keep back. Mr Jameson, meanwhile, shifted with an air of impatience.  

‘Talako, what do you know of the Wapiti tribe?’ She returned to business, clasping the glass with both of her hands.  

‘Not much. The same as the other tribes, locked up on reservations and struggling to change with the times. Heard the federal killed most of them off with starving them and all.’  

It was easy to detect the bitterness in his voice when he spoke of the American government and it was an opinion she too shared. After all, children were stolen from their families to be ‘reformed’ to the American way. The government’s soldiers raped and beat women whilst the tribesmen were left to starve after all their natural resources were destroyed mercilessly. Those who made it further than that usually ended up with the ‘white man’s disease’ with no way to cure or prevent the epidemics.  

‘Why do you ask, ma’am?’ Talako questioned.  

Mr Jameson opened his mouth at the younger man and started to stutter, no doubt some sort of rebuke towards the Native. Amelia held her hand up to stop him.  

‘I’m looking to expand our northern business, but it requires their co-operation.’ She refrained from going into too much detail as mainly, she was yet to figure those out. Amelia needed Talako’s advice on the Natives, not the business.  

‘They ain’t gonna like that, I tell you. Knowing the government anyway, they’ll just give you the land if you pay them enough.’  

He had a point; the federal government held the reservations, but she also knew that under the Dawes Act, this meant that - if willing - the Natives could sell a piecemeal of their land to her privately. The potential of gaining resources from the reservations would be invaluable, both commercially and politically.

‘I have a plan on appeasing the tribe,’ she commented with a small nod of assurance. ‘For every tree that we use for lumbar, I will accommodate the tribe, financially.’  

Talako took a large swig of his drink, almost finishing the contents in one. He chuckled, cocking his eyebrow towards her.  

‘All due respect, ma’am, they don’t want your money.’  

‘They may not want it,’ she retorted, ‘but they certainly need it. They need both food and medicine. Besides -’  

‘It ain’t gonna work,’ he cut her off, all amusement gone from his voice.  

‘Mr Jameson, could you kindly excuse us?’ Smiling, she was firm on the matter.  

It was visible to see that Mr Jameson was not fond of the situation but he left the room, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

‘If I do not get the tribe to co-operate, we will lose the business.’ Amelia sighed, taking more of the brandy.  

Talako, who had since finished his, helped himself to another while Amelia slumped into her chair, exacerbated. He passed the decanter to her as he sat on the corner of her desk.

He had always been familiar with her - which, for the most part, was kept in private. Although they had not had relations for a few years now, he still never quite treated Amelia as his employer.

‘You’re not stupid,’ she sighed, eyeing him from underneath her eyelashes as - without warning - the brandy and stress seemed to pounce on her without a moment’s notice.  

Talako scoffed, raising his glass mockingly to hers as he knocked the whole serving back down his throat, only to refill his glass again.  

‘If I lose this business,’ Amelia began, hearing her voice with a slight slur in her ears, ‘those who will buy my assets, my land... It’s people that won’t be so kind to those in need.’  

She was honest in her sentiment but so weary from chasing away endless propositions from the likes of Cornwall to guarantee her financial freedom. Her business was not just about making financial gain but giving people what America had given her, regardless of their skin, language, or beliefs.  

‘The world ain’t built for people like you, Amelia.’ Talako began, more to what seemed to be the bookcase before him than to her.

She almost huffed to herself, pulling out a drawer with a pack of premium cigarettes. Offering Talako one, she lit it off of her gas compressed pocket light and passed it to him as well.  

‘I cannot afford for the likes of Cornwall to fuck everything up. Not for me. Not for any of you.’ Amelia shook her head as her lips formed into a thin line at the thought of how that man treated the world around him. No matter her privilege, Amelia had sought to right the wrongs that had been bequeathed to her. Not just for herself, but for anyone who had been dealt the unfortunate hand of misery.  

‘Tsk,’ Talako hissed into the air, ‘I say, I have never met a finer lady to swear and drink as much as you.’  

To that, she could not help but smile.

‘Look,’ he began with a much more serious note in his voice, ‘money can not buy the tribes. They’re defiant. I don’t know much about them Wapitis but I know Natives. Whatever they believe, well... let me just say it matters on whose skin is holding it. Money from you. They might as well throw themselves off some cliff.’  

His dark eyes narrowed at her, a look she was not unfamiliar with. The alcohol, the sadness, the desperation had all taken hold. She wanted to feel something, anything other than this goddamn business her uncle had put her in charge of.

In the past, it had always been Talako for the most part to give her that comfort. Stolen kisses in the early hours whilst the rest of the staff slept, drunken adventures off in the grounds or some other debauchery that never filled her with as much shame as it should have done.

She was always very fond of him, from how the smell of hay would linger on his collar to the way he would wink at her when no one was looking. He was not a shy man by any means and, Native or not, had an abundance of women willing to court him. Yet Amelia always sensed that his affection for her far outweighed her feelings towards him.  

She rose back from her chair, attempting to avoid the illustrious stare of her Stable Master, shaking the temptation and thoughts from her head. She had ended that side of their relationship for a reason and was not prepared to open old wounds.

The business - now more than ever - had to come first. She would not allow her emotions to cloud her judgment when hard decisions would need to be made.  

An awkwardness passed between them as they both avoided each other’s gaze and sipped at their drinks.  

‘Do the land or trees matter more?’ She spoke, turning around to face Talako as he swirled his drink in the glass.  

‘What do you mean, ma’am?’ He responded, perplexed by the question.  

‘Will the tribe give up their land for the trees? If we replace the trees.’ She tried to make sense and to Amelia, it did in her head. The words, however, seemed to not make a great deal of sense.  

‘I...’ Talako stuttered, ‘I don’t quite rightly know what you mean.’  

He seemed confused and Amelia parroted his face, for she too could not convey exactly what she meant.  

‘If we... If I arrange with the tribe that we could not only give them a dividend for what we take from the land... What if we give back the trees as well!’ She almost jumped, a rare joyful and almost childlike excitement crept beneath her.  

Talako rose from the corner of the desk, approaching her with his cropped black hair and clay coloured skin. Amelia met his eyes sheepishly. He took her glass from her, his fingers brushing against hers as he placed the crystal back on the silver drinks tray.  

She chided herself for how appealing the situation was to her. The weight of everything almost collapsed above and beneath her as she tried to ignore the ever growing desire. She would not give in just yet.  

‘What I mean, is that...’ She could almost feel the judgment and the caution in his stare, but she had something – an actual plan. ‘I will cut down one tree, let’s say. Just one tree.’  

Amelia paced around the room. She almost forgot her audience as the silver hues of the falling snow twinkled across the parquet floor.  

‘One tree, I will pay the tribe not only for losing the tree, but to replant another ten.’  

Gazing out of the window and staring into the white tundra that had enveloped itself over the estate, all the warmth had dissipated into the late afternoon lulls as Amelia tugged her shawl over her.  

‘I supply them with resources, they supply me with sustainable labour and in return, the land is preserved.’  

It seemed so reasonable. It wouldn’t even cost two cents to plant a tree at the most. Talako nodded his head slowly. Nothing that she felt was entirely convincing, however.

‘I don’t know.’ He said, scratching again at his jaw as though in thought, ‘I don’t know much about my own tribe, hell, let alone them Wapiti’s, but maybe. Makes sense.’  

That was more than what she needed, a confirmation that she wasn’t insane or foolhardy and to come from a Native, it seemed to be enough for her to push forward as radical and extreme as her thoughts may be.  

‘Talako, speak with Mr Jameson. I need passage to Boston.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 fanfic #rdr2 #rdr2 fic #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x original female character #original female character #slow burn #blemished silk #amelia edwards #fanfic #fanfic chapter

[custardmylove]

☘ Requiem for Yesterday // chapter 3

warnings: none for this chapter! :D word count: 1.7k masterlist | chapter 1 | next chapter

Laventon nodded with a smile, “Right, First things first – let’s get these Pokemon back to the village! Then we’ll sort out your lodgings and find you some proper clothes and a meal and all that.” Kobii didn’t quite see what the problem was with that he was already wearing, but if the Professor said it wasn’t proper, he didn’t see why he had the right to argue against that, so he simply nodded along. “Follow me, then! Onward to Jubilife Village!” He grinned as he began to walk at a brisk pace further away from the beach, Kobii following diligently behind him. As they walked, he had some time to look around his surroundings, the most prominent thing he spotted was a tall mountain in the distance, snow covering it’s top. He shivered, a dark ring of clouds floated above the mountain with what he thought was lightning in its centre, although the back of his mind seemed to think it looked like a crack in the sky itself… It gave him a bad feeling and he tared his eyes away from the sight, opting to look elsewhere instead. Kobii could see what he assumed to be a part of the village Professor Laventon had mentioned, the tip of what he guessed to be a chimney in the distant with a steady stream of smoke floating out and into the sky. As they rounded a corner, they reached a large entrance in a wooden wall that seemed to only be a bit taller than Kobii himself, two men in a matching uniform were guarding the entrance. Kobii moved slightly to walk behind the Professor who either didn’t mind or didn’t notice as he walked towards one of the guards with a large grin. “Thankyou for your tireless work keeping us safe, my good guardsmen!” He announced. Kobii thought it sounded like he was buttering them up so he could ask a favour of them, but he kept quiet, noticing the guard’s eyes locking onto him as they stood more alert. It seems Laventon noticed as well; “This young man was of great assistance to me and my pokemon, so I hope you’ll my bringing him into the village for a bit!” He said as he placed a hand on Kobii’s shoulder. Kobii just tried to look as un-threatening as he could. The guards looked at each other for a moment before they nodded wordlessly. With a pat of his shoulder, Laventon began to stride past the entrance, Kobii following behind, trying not to look at the guards. When they walked into the village, he stopped, a strange feeling rising in his stomach. Looking around, Kobii felt like something was deeply wrong even though it seemed quite peaceful. There was a bunch of wooden buildings, he guessed they were houses, a crop field, a fenced off area to the far right. A bunch of people were around too, and they all seemed at ease. Some children ran around while adults of all ages talked in the streets, there was even a few more people in the strange red uniform standing around. Perhaps it was the large orange building that was at the end of the path right through the centre of the village, it stood as an imposing figure. Burying the unease, Kobii quickly caught up with the Professor who hadn’t stopped and had now started to talk to him as they walked.

“Jubilife village! It’s come a long way thanks to the fine people of the Galaxy Expedition Team! This road we’re on now is known to the locals as Canala Avenue.” Laventon explained. He was really trying to focus on what he was saying but as they walked, more and more people stopped what they were doing to stare at them. Well, Kobii to be specific, who shrunk in on himself a bit more, staying close to the other man. “The village was bult scarcely two years ago… There’s much to do yet and not many to do it. And since we know so little of the local pokemon, people hesitate to set foot outside the village.” He explained, now raising an arm to point at the big building Kobii had spotted before. “Now, that impressive building ahead of us is Galaxy Hall – Headquarters for this entire outfit!” Kobii guessed Laventon meant himself by that. After that, they stopped in front of a small wooden bridge, the Professor turning to face him quickly. “Oh botheration! I’d almost forgotten! I need to go explain that we managed to successfully recovered the escaped pokemon! Might I ask you to wait for me at the canteen?” He stuck his arm out to point at a smaller building than the rest, Kobii would guess it looked a bit more traditional than the rest, but only by a small bit. “It’s just past this bridge here, then to the left. The Wallflower it’s called!”

“Um, Su-“ Before he could even respond, Laventon gave him nod with his seemingly ever constant grin and turned around to run towards the big building from before, his white lab coat trailing behind him. Feeling uncomfortable with the people’s eyes still on him without the Professor, he began to make his way to the canteen when a quiet beeping was heard. On instinct, he pulled out the phone he had found earlier, a map now being displayed on the screen. Staring at it for a moment, he figured out that it was in fact a map of the village he was in now, a small marker on a building across the bridge, he guessed that it was the building that the Professor had pointed out for him earlier. Deciding that he would stare at the map later on, Kobii walked across the bridge and arrived in front of the canteen. He mused that it looked rather similar to a café, a table and chairs out the front. A hunched off man was in front of the door and he frowned as soon as he was visible. After looking Kobii up and down with a scrutinising look, which he found to be very uncomfortable, he spoke. “Well now, aren’t you awfully suspicious?” Kobii was trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t make him seem more suspicious when the man suddenly straightened and yelled at him. “The Wallflower’s for Galaxy Team folk only. We don’t have seats for outsiders. Move along!” He barked, his voice rough and intimidating for someone of the man’s stature. Kobii could already feel more eyes on him, the people in red uniforms now beginning to talk amongst themselves, about himself Kobii guessed. This was.. less than ideal. Before Kobii could even try and explain that he wasn’t here to eat but to wait for Laventon, the man turned his back on him, ending the encounter, and went inside the canteen. He supposed he knew why the Professor called it the canteen in the first place now and not a restaurant like he guessed. Focusing on the ground and trying to think of what to do that wouldn’t get the guards immediately chucking him out, Kobii was caught off guard by a new voice. “Who are you? I’ve never seen anyone dressed like you are.” A girl in a dark blue outfit walked up, a white bandanna keeping her hair from hanging over her face and a red scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. ‘This is it, I’m going to be thrown out right away and the Professor will have to come get me.’ Kobii was then pleasantly surprised when the girl kept talking however quite casually. “What if you were attacked by a pokemon? You’d be minced meat in those flimsy clothes!” She huffed, crossing her arms as she looked over what he was wearing. Shaking her head, she opted to drop the topic. “If the guard let you through, you must have ties with somebody in the village…” She mused, and Kobii, full of relief of someone who didn’t stare him down like some complete alien, nodded. “Perhaps you’ve met Professor Laventon? He’s a scholar from a faraway place. His pokemon do get away from him at times, though. It does make me a bit worried for him..” Kobii relaxed more now that she knew Laventon, surely if the two were close then she’d have no problems with him either. “I suppose I’m hardly one to talk – I’ve had some trouble with pokemon myself.” She sighed, looking dejected. “Oh, really?” He asked to which the girl nodded. “I was hit by a pokemon move called ‘Thunder Shock’ not too long ago and had to take to my bed.” For some reason, the notion of a person being hit by such a potentially deadly move sounded unheard of to him but the girl in front of him spoke as if it was plenty common. “But the Professor…well… I do wonder how long he’ll last.” “O-oh, I’m sure he’s not that much at danger is he?” Kobii said, trying to put some faith in the man he had met earlier.

“Unfortunately it’s just as Akari says… I’m a clumsy sort of fellow, to put it mildly!” A familiar voice chuckled as the Professor walked up to the two of them, standing next to the girl, Akari. ‘So she’s the one that he mentioned when I was catching his pokemon for him.’  Kobii noted as Akari looked like she’d been caught red handed. “Professor!” She exclaimed, seeming a bit embarrassed to be caught publicly worrying about him, although Kobii didn’t think he minded a bit. “But everything will be quite alright now! Kobii here has agreed to help us with our Pokedex!” Hearing that, Akari frowned and looked between Laventon and him, turning to complain to the pokemon professor. “Excuse me? You plan to appoint him to the Survey Corps?” She placed her hands on her hips and continued, “You can’t just slap a badge on whoever you like without Captain Cyllene’s permission!” She chided. Kobii began to realise that Akari was probably one of the people who kept Laventon on track most of the time. “I’ll allow it.” A new voice added, a tall woman in a similar uniform as Akari walked up to the three of them, a stoic expression on her face and short light blue hair. “Captain Cyllene!” Akari exclaimed in the same fashion she had when the Professor had arrived only moments prior. “Assuming the individual can contribute to the Survey Corps, that is.” She then turned to face him, her arms folded behind her back. “I am the captain of the Galaxy Team’s Survey Corps. You may call me Cyllene.”

#pokemon legends arceus #pokemon oc #pla fic #pla fanfic #fanfic #fanfic chapter #fanfic blog #ao3 writer #fanfiction #fanfiction writer #ao3 fanfic #pokemon fic

[starsaver94]

Taming the Beast Within Ch.5

Soft snoring filled the air of a fifteen-year-old Kyoko’s bedroom. A thin line of drool flowed freely out of her mouth and made a small stain on the sheets as she slept peacefully. At least, until a soft yet loud knock resonated against her bedroom door. Kyoko groaned as she stirred from her newly disturbed sleep.

“What?” She whined out at whoever was currently at her door.

“Kyoko, it’s 8:00 am. You need to get up!” Her mother exclaimed from the other side of the door.

“Why?”

“Because your entranced exam for U.A is today. Did you forget? I made breakfast for you, so hurry and get dressed. You don’t want to be late.”

“Oh,” Kyoko mumbled before closing her eyes again in order to go back to sleep. But as soon as they were closed, her eyes shot back open again.

“Crap!” She shouted, quickly scrambling out of bed, changing her clothes in a rush, grabbing her backpack and bolting out the door into the hallway. Kyoko runs up to the kitchen counter and grabs a small bowl of eggs and rice that her mother had just made.

“Good morning, dear.” Reiki greets her newly awoken daughter “Did you sleep well?”

“Mm-hmm. I slept really well.” Kyoko mumbles around a mouthful of rice, stopping for a moment to gulp down some water from a tall glass.

“Careful dear, you don’t want to choke do you?” Reiki warns as Kyoko finishes the last of the rice and runs to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

“Did you pack everything you need, sweetie?”

“Yeah, I packed everything in advance last night, remember?”

“Ok, well, just be careful out there and do your best, alright?”

“I will.” Kyoko reassures her mother before kissing her check and heading out the front door “Bye mom! I love you and I’ll tell you how things went when I get back!”

Reiki smiled and let out a sigh of both pride and sadness “My baby’s on the path to achieving her dream.”

As Kyoko walked down the street, she began to notice other students around her age walking down the same path she walked.

They all must be taking the entrance exam as well.

Kyoko continued to walk down the street until she rounded the corner and was met with the large entrance gates of U.A High School. The sight of what was considered the top hero school in Japan made Kyoko’s heart race.

It’s much bigger than I thought. Should I really go in? I mean only the best of the best can attend, and my quirk is…

Thoughts of doubt raced through her mind as she walked through the gate and down the entrance path, pausing only to take another look at the school in all its glory. That was, until a sudden force was felt against her left shoulder that nearly knocked her off balance and snapped Kyoko out of her daydreams.

“Watch where your standing idiot!” A harsh male voice growled while continuing down the brick path. He was wearing a black coat with matching black pants and had a tan scarf wrapped around his neck. An aura of somewhat subdued anger seemed to follow him.

Kyoko didn’t get a good look at his face, but one thing in particular about the unknown male did stick out to her. A head of spiky, ash-blond hair that looked almost painful to the touch.

Just another student going to take the entrance exam.

Kyoko shook her head and continued down the path towards the front doors of U.A. As Kyoko walked, she passed by a brown-haired girl who was standing next to a boy with a head of fluffy, green hair who was… floating?

Just more hopeful students. Keep walking.

Kyoko walked through the large double doors with an equally large 2 painted on it. She continued to walk through the large main hall until she finally reached the exam room.

There’s got to be an empty seat somewhere… Oh! There!

She ended up taking a seat next to a boy with sharp red hair.

After Kyoko took her seat, the lights in the exam room flared to life. This revealed a man with long yellow hair that was styled in a way that made him look like some sort of parrot.

“What’s up U.A candidates? Thanks for tuning in to me, your school DJ.” The man flashed a somewhat cheesy smile and opened his arms out towards the crowd of exam takers.

“C’mon. And lemme hear ya!”

Silence. Complete and total silence.

Is this guy for real?

“Keeping it mellow, huh? Alright, guess I’ll skip to the main show. Now, let’s talk about your practical exam.”

“ARE YOU READY? YEAH!”

More silence.

Who is this guy?

“Today you rockin’ boys and girls will be out there conducting ten-minute mock battles in an epic urban setting. After I finish here you’ll be sent to your specified battle center, sound good?”

Wait… did he say… battle?

Kyoko’s heart dropped. She hated fighting, more than anything else on earth. Now she has to fight if she wants to get into the academy.

I must’ve missed that part on the application form…

Kyoko quickly pulled out her exam ticket in order to check her battle center location. It read “Test Location: Battle Center B”.

She looked back up at the screen which now displayed what types of enemies would appear and how many points they were worth when defeated.

“Excuse me, sir? But I have a question.”

A single light beamed down on a taller, black-haired student. The light reflecting off of his glasses.

“On the printout, you’ve listed four distinct types of villains. Not three like you said. With all due respect, if this is an error on official U.A material, it is indeed shameful.”

He went on to explain how U.A was supposed to be the most honored school in Japan before pointing at the green haired kid from earlier.

“You with the unkempt hair. Yes, you. You’ve been muttering this entire time. Stop that at once. Because if you can’t bother to take this seriously, then you can leave. You're being a distraction and nuisance to the rest of us.”

Wow… Hopefully the teachers aren’t that strict.

The exam supervisor went on to explain how the fourth villain type was merely just an obstacle and wasn’t worth any points if defeated.

“That’s all I got for today, so I’m going to sign off with a little present for you guys! It’s… a sample of our school motto!”

Suddenly a large projection of the phrase “PLUS ULTRA” flashed onto the screen. Kyoko could feel her heart thumping in her chest at a rapid rate. She was nervous, but at the same time, she was also excited. This was her first step towards becoming a hero. And she was determined not to let something as simple as a mock battle stand in her way.

The exam room quickly emptied out and Kyoko followed the students that were in Battle Center B. The group of students soon arrived at a large metal door. Kyoko began to fiddle with her coat nervously. Her heart was going so fast it felt as if it could pop out of her chest at any minute.

This is it...

My dream…

My career…

My life…

It all…

Starts here!

#mha fanfic #mha #mha oc's #mha fic #fanfic chapter #taming the beast within

[mikkeneko]

PSA for Google Docs writers

[Edit] Also for Firefox, as per @essayofthoughts in the notes: https://addons.mozilla.org/en-US/firefox/addon/delete-g-docs-type-to-insert/

If you (like me) use Google Doc to write fanfic, you may (like me) have been annoyed by the new "feature" they added in the past few weeks, "Smart Chips," where by default every time you open a new line it auto-inserts a "@" symbol and then prompts to add additional people into the doc for review or whatever other useless thing I immediately closed out of.

There doesn't appear to be a way to turn off this "feature" in GDocs however someone has put out an extension that nixes it:

#fanfic author psa #google docs #this irritating son-of-a-clippy did cause my formatting on the last chapter of IDV to be messed up #but that one was partly on me for not checking better #and letting myself be distracted

[fonulyn]

since I've seen it talked about in several places recently:

if you are going to do a whump- or kink- or ANY-tober or other similar challenges please please please don't post them as one fic with 31 chapters unless it actually is one coherent fic. if they're 31 completely separate fics or ficlets then please just make a collection for them or just post them as separate fics. it doesn't matter if they're only 100 words or if you think they're too small or insignificant to post alone, they're not.

and why this?

because if you post all 31 of them in one fic the tagging is absolutely useless. if I look for things to read on ao3 I'm gonna look at the tags, and if the tags include something that's a dealbreaker for me, i won't even click on the fic. I might not even SEE the fic because I've filtered out the nope-tag! so I'm gonna lose out on reading 30 perfectly nice fics because of one fic that my nope-tag applied to.

ao3 is about archiving. it's about clear tagging and being informative. there is nothing informative about it if the tags in the fic apply to random chapters while others have nothing to do with it. it makes so much more sense to have each work as an individual fic with its own individual tags and warnings, so readers can make informed choices.

of course, you do you. I can't police what other people decide to do. but personally, I find it incredibly frustrating to weed through 31 chapters to find the ones I actually want to read. so I don't. I automatically scroll past all works posted like that. and I know some others do, too.

there is absolutely no shame in posting short things on ao3. there is no minimum word count. no one is going to look at you funny if you post a small ficlet on its own, I promise. it's just going to make some readers very happy when they can actually find the things they want to read.

so, please. at least consider the upsides of posting each work as their own fic.

signed, one very frustrated fandom grandma.

#ao3 #fanfic #fandom #I'm not trying to dictate what others do #so if you still wanna keep posting #completely unrelated works as chapters of one thing #then go for it #i'm not your mom #but please at least consider the alternative #and how much easier it'll be for people to #both find it and to make informed choices #of what they want to read

[ao3-crack]

(x)

#archive of our own #ao3 stuff #ao3 quotes #archive of our own quotes #fanfic #fanfic quotes #funny #ao3 #ao3 notes #next chapter #uhh. I don’t have a plan #we’ll see what happens

[bababaka]

Yall need to interact with fanfiction author's more.

So. After the ddos attack on ao3.

I was encouraged to write more comments and make my love known to fanfic writers.

I dont really like commenting. Because im a bit shy and soooo lazy.

Now though. I am writing more comments. And dude. This is so heartwarming. Ya'll need to treat writers better. They are doing the lord's work.

Take for an example, couple of days prior, i was searching for something interesting to read, and found an oneshot quite compelling.

I read it. At the end of it, i was blown away by how good it was. It promised me something and it went beyond my expectations. But then i saw a crime, zero fucking comments!

At that moment, i wasn't feeling up to writing a comment. Because, normally i like to write huge paragraphs. But because im lazy i decided to be brief.

Next day, the author answered that the comment lift their mood for the whole day.

That warmed my heart.

Duuuuuuuude! Write comments! Suport the writers of the fics you like! No need to be something super elaborate. Just give your thoughts. Freak out. Ramble. Ask something. Make theories. Compliment. Make a joke about how you wished to give kudos every chapter but ao3 sucks(not true bby) and won't let you.

Truly. Just. Comment. It can make someone's day. And that is part of the apeal of writing fics. Interacting with people.

Just give love to fanfic writers yall. They deserve this and so much more.

#fanfiction writer #fanfic #ao3 #ramble #it was a naruto fanfic #a narusasusaku fic #also had another thing #i commented on my fav fic that hasnt been updated for a while #i didnt pressured the author to write #because you dont fucking do that >:( #but #just freaked out and talked about how much i loved their writing and the fic #two days later they updated the fic #and then told me i inspired them to finish the chapter #and that's what you're supposed to do! #interact with the author #the fic! #no need to pressure them into writing! #sometimes just words of love and support is enough! #be nice to your writers! #or im gonna smash some sense into yall

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.

It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms. 

Worse?

It was short.

Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans. 

The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at. 

“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming. 

Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme. 

“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym. 

Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.

‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’

“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel. 

They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.

Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give. 

Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.

(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.

 Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures. 

The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.) 

Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.

Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.

Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds. 

“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious.  “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”

He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.” 

To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was. 

None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.

Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it. 

Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.

Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome. 

“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again. 

A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.

“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!” 

Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction

“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”

“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!

“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!” 

As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.

Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s. 

“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!” 

It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.” 

Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise. 

Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for. 

(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.) 

The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con. 

It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.

Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.

Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.

“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.” 

He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.

Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.

(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)

“You know who doesn’t look scary?”

Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of; 

“Steve!”

Eddie’s left eye twitched.

‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.

Cartoon squawking and all. 

“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.” 

So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.

“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”

Eddie had pulled himself black up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.

There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this. 

Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game. 

One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all. 

(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”

“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.) 

“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly. 

“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!

 “Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?” 

He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.

“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of  a few silly images.” 

A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room. 

“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!” 

This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air. 

Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!

He was right!

Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.

“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking. 

Because King Steve? Play D&D?

'Ha!'

“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!” 

“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.

Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed. 

Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.) 

The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway. 

As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.

“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.

"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.” 

 Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table

Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.” 

The dick.

“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.

He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.

Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.

#Door Prize #Alt S4 #pre steddie #when is it not lmao #Holiday fic #well this is more of a warm up but it has another part #Ive just given up the WIPS are running my life #this is brought to you by a local high schools massive holiday bazaar I went too that had cute band kids running around #could not play music though bless them #I did FINALLY get re employed so things are slowing down but Im hoping to post one more chapter of SOMETHING before the end of dec #and probably the other half of this warm up shes short #steven harrington #eddie munson #baking #special appearance by Adopt a Jocks Tiff #Robin pops up in this in the other half #Dustin Henderson #and his scheming #Steve can bake #0o0 fanfics #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #steddie

[aerequets]

ONCE MORE WITH FEELING HAS, ONCE MORE, PUT ME IN MY FEELINGS

(all hail @sometimesiship)

#chapter 34 Ended me and then resuscitated me #when it started with advisor i wanted to throw up (in a good way) #spy x family #my art #loid forger #yor forger #sxf #twiyor #sxf loid #sxf yor #sxf fic #sxf fanfic

[huskyweebo]

Kings accidental consort. PT. 1 [ ? ]

Tysm to this blog for inspiring me to make an RadioApple fanfic!

“ So do you Agree on the terms. “ Lucifer affirmed, folding his arms as if saying to not agree. He and Alastor were on the patio; the only quiet place in the now bustling hotel,

“ yes yes, “ The radio demon said somewhat dismissively, “ I would only act as a parent to dear Charlie when you are not here, “ he repeated.

A sudden, odd thought came to Lucifer, “ just like divorced dads, “ he heard in his head, making him snicker slightly, Alastor tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, “ what seems to be hilarious your Majesty, surely not our agreement “ he proceeded to hold out his hand, Lucifer grasped it.

“ oh nothing, I was just thinking that this deal seems like we act like a sort of divorced couple, and how it would be funny if we were actually, truly married “ they shook hands, around them powerful rays of light signaled a deal being made by an Overlord and King.

Downstairs Charlie and Vaggie were heading to their room after letting Angel handle the new guests for a break. Suddenly, the lights darkened around them and Green light was seen, both girls knew that all too well.

“ I’m sorry but who is making a deal with Alastor? “ Charlie asked. Vaggie raised an eyebrow

“ wait didn’t your dad go up with Alastor a couple minutes ago? … oh shit, “ Vaggie muttered, she grabbed Charlie’s hand and rushed up the stairs leading to the patio where Lucifer had said he will be. The was a lot of commotion behind the closed doors, Charlie kicked it open and ready to fight.

“ -re you shitting me! What is this?! This is your fault sinner ! “ Lucifer yelled once Charlie smashed the door open, her father appeared to be wearing a wedding dress, and blushing profusely. Vaggie burst out laughing.

“ well I wasn’t the one who made a frivolous joke about being married, am I ? “ Alastor said. he seemed frustrated, but he still held his smile. He himself was wearing a black tuxedo and holding a bouquet of flowers.

As they argued, both of their hands flared around. Charlie stayed quiet, not wanting to intervene but suddenly noticed wedding bands on each of their clawed hands, putting two and two together, she gasped loudly. She started squealing making both men stop yelling to look at her,

“ oh my gosh, oh my gosh, Vaggie!! Alastor is officially my Father!! They have Ringsss! “ she said shaking her girlfriend, Tears fell from her eyes.

“ ok easy on the sparkles Hon, “ Vaggie said while being shook, she turned to the males with a questioning look,

“ did you guys seriously get married? “ Charlie ran to hug Alastor, “ NEW DAD ! “ she yelled while sobbing madly,

“ What is this? Dear this isn’t for long, His Highness messed up a deal we were making and ended up like this, “ Charlie was peeled off of his body, and her face told them she was hugely disappointed.

“ what but what kind of deal can you botch that badly to- “

“ WELL TIME TO BREAK THIS MARRIGE “ Lucifer interrupted, snapping his fingers.

The wedding garments disappeared for both, Alastor brushed his clothes, “ There you go, the deal should be of- why do I still have another ring. “ Lucifer stretched out his hand in front of him, on top of his old wedding ring that Lilith gave him, there was still the new one. Alastor looked down, he still had his on aswell.

“ Now this is particularly “ he said off handly, “ I thought you had it covered your majesty, “

“ well I do, give me a second “ Lucifer growled,

20 minutes later and everyone was in the palace with Lucifer running everywhere and looking through all the books he can find, he was muttering under his breath frantically similarly to how Charlie did when she was in a panic,

“ HOW IS THERE NOTHING ABOUT STUPID DEAL BREAKS IN THIS SHITHOLE “ Lucifer yelled out from another room and a book could be seen thrown.

“ hmmm “ Alastor hummed through his smile, he enjoyed the little one running around with tarnish, but he knew the fun couldn’t last. He he assured Charlie then went through his shadow and to where Lucifer was.

“ Your highness what seems to be the problem? “ he asked knowing full well the answer to his own question. Lucifer looked like a complete mess: both his horns and wings were out and he wore a crazed expression,

“ well, funny thing, well um- “ he stammered, then flew up and took another book out of a shelf instead of answering him.

Alastor waited for him to come down, he was like a prissy baby and currently, he knew not that Alastor could hear him from down below. The king cursed him out and his past living self. The book he previously had in his hand fell with a slam right next to Alastor, Lucifer cursed even more and flew higher, deep into the high rise library, Alastor went to pick up the book but immediately dropped it when it burned his skin through his gloves.

It was a holy book, ‘ Deals With The Unholy ‘ it was called. All around Alastor was holy books similar to that.

Finally, Lucifer calmed down slightly and flew back to where Alastor was, he was panting heavily.

“ finally calmed down? “ the Sinner rejoiced, his smiled sickened Lucifer, “ I see you don’t got this handled, “ the King rolled his eyes,

“ looks like apparently once a deal is made it can never be broken until it ends, but we never put a deadline, so it’s not possible… but I swear I had saw something about breaking a deal somewhere! “ he said with a pout, Alastor laughed slightly.

“ well I suggest we go ahead and tell our daughter that becuase she is currently worried about you. “ Alastor said smoothly,

“ she worried about me ? “ Lucifer said excitedly, then clearing his throat embarrassed when he saw Alastors face.

“ what do you mean, ‘ our duaghter ‘ she’s my duaghter not yours “ he growled. Alastor laughed,

“ Well this ring says otherwise, so until we find out a way to break this frivolous deal, we are officially married so she is indeed my duaghter. “ Lucifer narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything, “ go along now darling, please tend to OUR daughter “ The short king muttered angerly as he left, not waiting for him.

Alastor waited for him to close the door. The sound of a Wendigo could be heard from him.

he held his hand with his wedding band out, from it, sparks came from it and suddenly a book appeared in his hand. He reading for a brief moment before shutting and burning it.

“ A slight mishap that I could use, maybe being married isn’t such a bad thing “ Alastor started laughing, he continued on as he went through the shadows…

TBC [ ? ]

#radioapple #vivziepop #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #fanfic #hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel fanfiction #appleradio #appleradio fanfic #radioapple fanfic #alastor #alastor x lucifer #prompt fic #my hands hurt #maybe will be another chapter idk #Kings accidental consort

[lucyllawless]

Lena prefers sleeping at her girlfriend's apartment.

#supercorp #supercorpedit #supergirl #supergirledit #lena luthor #kara danvers #supercorp au #my gifs #*sggif #chapter 15 #au gif sets as fanfic #my external hd crapped out on me right after i made these #i gotta re-rip EVERYTHING #rip to me personally