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Not pictured: all the many nights my brain wakes me up at 3 AM or 5 AM with ideas that CANNOT wait and I MUST write them immediately
Writers on a random Tuesday: Sits down, locks in, giggles, writes 10k, does not sleep
Also writers on a random Tuesday: writes one sentence and then stares into the abyss for five fours
That about sums it up! 🙃
Fanfiction writers be like:
"here's the immensely time consuming 100K word novel-length passion project I'm working on between my real life job and family! It eats up hundreds of hours of my one and only life, causes me emotional harm, and I gain basically nothing from it! Also I put it on the internet for free so anyone can read if they want. Hope you love it!" :)
Gale is also 💯 the MVP of this chapter. He may not be getting the romance partner role in this fic, but he’s def gunning for bestie status 👯♂️
The Embrace of Love and Death, Chapter 5: Playing with Knives
Chapter summary: Lae’zel puts Astarion and Miss Fortune through the paces, training them relentlessly until they learn to work together better. Things get flirtatious between the rogues as they get to know each other better, and Shadowheart puts Miss Fortune on the spot to reveal their past.
Read the full chapter on AO3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/64221298/chapters/166716742
Excerpt:
“It’s time for the two of you to start warming up,” the warrior commanded as soon as she noticed Miss Fortune was done eating. There was no room for bargaining or arguing in her tone. “You will go to the clearing, you will stretch every muscle, do push-ups, sit-ups, and squats to exhaustion twice, and lastly you will run until I decide to come stop you. Then, I will train you until I am satisfied that you’ve learned the lesson at hand.”
Miss Fortune could hear Astarion complaining under his breath the whole way to the clearing, and when they arrived he turned on them with a huff.
“Why don’t you just leave me at camp to watch the cook pot?” He demanded, waving his hands wildly. “Why put us through all this just to keep me on the road with you?”
“Is that what you want? To stay in camp?” They asked as they began to stretch their arms and shoulders.
“Wha—I didn’t say that,” the vampire countered, beginning his own stretches. “It’s just, wouldn’t that be easier?”
“And miss out on your witty banter and gorgeous face all day? Doesn’t sound easier to me,” Miss Fortune grinned.
“Oh, well in that case…” Astarion feigned sheepishness, brushing a curl behind his pointy ear. “Glad to see someone around here has good taste.”
“And you would know after last night, wouldn’t you? How good my taste is?” Miss Fortune dropped to the ground to begin stretching the lower half of their body. They chanced a quick glance up at the vampire and noticed an almost imperceptible shudder of ecstasy as he presumably recalled the taste of their blood. The half-elf had to look away quickly, hoping he didn’t catch sight of the hot blush razing across their cheeks.
“Aha! How delightful. Yes, you were scrumptious, my sweet. But to whom am I speaking today? Because it’s certainly not the same sad little bird who was ready to curl up and die last night.” Astarion followed suit, practically bending himself in half with seemingly no effort. Miss Fortune tried unsuccessfully not to let their eyes - or mind - drift too much at the sight. There was no denying that he had a great body, and the incredible flexibility had them feeling some type of way.
Chapter 3: Astarion and Miss Fortune Learn to Work Together
Summary: After a petty squabble between Astarion and Miss Fortune nearly gets the whole party killed in the Overgrown Ruins, Lae’zel begins training the rogues on how to work together. Astarion gives Miss Fortune a flirtatious anatomy lesson on the best places to stab someone, somehow managing to make murder sound sexy. Miss Fortune also attempts to develop a reading habit with a strange old book they found in the ruins called ‘The Curse of the Vampyr.’
You can also read it on AO3
The overgrown ruins near the nautiloid crash site had nearly become home to five fresh corpses seeing as Miss Fortune and their companions had barely survived the encounter with the bandits occupying it. The worst of their injuries belonged to Gale, who had been practically been snapped in two by a barbarian. It was another defeat in the half-elf’s recent losing streak, and Lae’zel’s words from the previous evening about them being weak and a liability eviscerated their confidence.
The mood was tense at supper; nobody seemed willing to break the sullen silence as they tore into the turkey Lae’zel had killed on their way back to camp. As usual, Miss Fortune noted that Astarion, seated next to them, was merely pushing the food around on his plate. At one point he seemed to take the tiniest of bites, yet didn’t seem to chew or swallow. He appeared more focused on the raw gash splitting Miss Fortune’s lip than on his supper, and they resolved to ask about it someday soon. Despite the throbbing pain in their mouth, the half-elf forced themselves to eat double helpings lest they provoke the Gith into giving another lecture.
As it turned out, the extra meat wasn’t enough to earn them a silent retreat. When they finished up and stood to go lick their emotional wounds and rest their sore, freshly healed body in the comfort of their tent, they heard Lae’zel clear her throat from where she sat.
“You’re not going anywhere,” she barked. “That goes for you too, Astarion,” she added as the pale elf attempted to sneak away unnoticed.
“And why is that, Gith?” Miss Fortune sighed, world-weary.
“We all nearly died in that disastrous skirmish today, and the blame rests on both your shoulders.” The warrior rose, stalking over to where the pair of them stood. “Neither of you think before you act. You both rush in, daggers flailing, without a single plan in your vacant skulls.”
“Ouch, you wound me, Lae’zel,” Astarion sneered. “I do have a plan: to murder everyone and everything that needs killing.”
She pointed a finger into his chest. “That’s the kind of plan that gets you killed. And us along with you.” She turned her attention to Miss Fortune. “And you. You’re a pretty face with a silver tongue dripping sweet words. People like you. You can talk your way into and out of situations with ease, which is why I haven’t gutted you and taken over as leader yet.”
“Uh, thanks?” Miss Fortune said, rubbing the back of their head in confusion.
“I’m not finished. Your fighting style lacks discipline, and a freshly hatched Gith has a better head for battle tactics than you. We don’t need two rogues skulking around everywhere. If you had half a brain, you would leave the pale one at camp to watch the cook pot.”
“Now you wait just a-“ Astarion began to object, but Miss Fortune cut in.
“That’s not an option!” they shouted, their stomach twisting itself into knots. They couldn’t begin to explain why, but Astarion had become an indispensable presence for them in these short few days. They didn’t always see eye to eye, but the half-elf enjoyed his witty banter as they slogged around, and for whatever reason he was a calming presence for them. The view from behind was nothing to complain about either.
Taking a deep breath, they continued in a quieter voice: “One surprise attack can cause grievous injury to a foe; two could be lethal. There’s strength in numbers, so why should we throw the advantage of two stealthy fighters away? We can slit people’s throats before they even notice we’re there. Surely you see how valuable that could be, ‘General.’”
Lae’zel must have noticed the steely resolve in Miss Fortune’s body language and realized they wouldn’t budge on the issue. And if she bristled at the ‘General’ jab she didn’t let on. “He stays, then. But you must learn to work together. You speak of two rogues felling opponents before they can raise alarm? That doesn’t happen by chance, istik. You must get to know each other on and off the battlefield. You must think and move as one.”
“If I may,” Shadowheart interjected. “Although I mended the worst of his broken spine, Gale should rest for a few days before I would consider him fit to fight again.”
“And although I cannot explain the phenomenon at this juncture, it would appear that our parasites remain in some sort of state of stasis,” Gale added from where he rested at an incline, his face pained and glistening with sweat. “By all of the extensive accounts I’ve read on the matter we should be mind flayers by now, and yet none of us have experienced a single symptom to indicate that such a fate is on the horizon. Of course haste is still of the utmost importance, but with nary a tentacle sprouted between the pack of us I’d say we could spare a few days.”
“So it would seem,” Lae’zel considered. “It is settled then. We remain at camp until Gale is recovered, and I will train you two relentlessly. It begins now. Unsheathe your daggers.”
Astarion and Miss Fortune exchanged glances, each daring the other to protest. Neither did. Instead, they did as instructed.
“First, you must watch what the other is capable of. Learn each other’s strengths and weaknesses. Miss Fortune, you will begin.” She gestured to the practice dummy they had found in an abandoned merchant’s cart along the road. “You will initiate combat repeatedly. Astarion, you will note hi-” she paused, correcting herself “their speed, their mannerisms, everything you can. And then, you will switch. I will merely watch tonight, but tomorrow I will instruct. Do you understand?”
“Sounds simple enough, but are you sure this is necessary?” Astarion asked coolly.
“If you like your guts inside your body, it is.”
“When you put it that way, let’s begin!” Astarion laughed nervously.
The pale elf stood watching with his hands on his hips as Miss Fortune ran through the exercise over and over. Tonight, they practiced a stealthy approach where they crouched down and drew closer to the practice dummy as quietly as possible before delivering a swift, sudden strike.
The sun was beginning to set, leaving pockets of darkness Miss Fortune could step or roll between to stay obscured. Fresh as they’d been to the thieves guild, they’d done several jobs for them working the streets. It was those experiences they tried to conjure memories of to guide their movements. But even so, those jobs were mostly to cut purse strings or extract information. Prior to being kidnapped they’d only killed one person before. And that first kill had been left with so many stab wounds the detectives hadn’t been able to identify the body. So while they’d excelled at stealth, their sneak attacks were guesswork at best. They had no idea where to stab a body to do the most damage in one go.
Over and over again Miss Fortune retreated, snuck their way over to the practice dummy, and jabbed. They tried to ignore the nerves that came with being assessed as they realized Astarion and Lae’zel’s eyes never left them. When sweat began to drench their shirt they simply removed it. Goose flesh dimpled their skin and a shiver went down their spine from the sudden cold. It wasn’t until about five rounds after the half-elf thought they couldn’t take it anymore that Lae’zel told them to stop.
“Enough. Astarion, report. What are their strengths and weaknesses?” Lae’zel demanded.
Astarion crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re nimble, darling, and you have a good eye for keeping to the shadows. But you have no idea where to aim your blade,” he said, sounding bored.
“That’s not what I’m used to hearing,” Miss Fortune smirked, flicking their gaze briefly downwards toward their crotch and back.
“Oh ha ha, what a time to develop a sense of humor.” Astarion rolled his eyes, then sauntered over to where the half-elf stood. “Allow me to show you.” He stood right behind them, his breath in their ear as he drew a sharp finger across their throat. “I’m sure you’re acquainted with every rogue’s favorite spot, the throat slit.”
Miss Fortune became aware of his scent for the first time - a combination of earth, citrus, and something else they couldn’t quite place. They found it utterly alluring. “You smell good,” was all they could think to say.
“I know, darling, I missed my calling as a perfumer. Do try not to let my aroma distract you,” the pale elf chided as he moved his hand slightly to the left, nearing the side of their neck. Miss Fortune visibly tensed, waiting. He mimed a stab-and-jerk motion to the side of their Adam’s apple. “A jab like this and they’ll bleed out in moments, gurgling helplessly on their own blood.” He moved again, now hovering a hand over their eyes. “A quick stab through the eye will render a brain quite useless. You could achieve a similar effect jabbing through the back of their neck, though your blade is more likely to get stuck if you don’t know what you’re doing - and you clearly don’t, not yet.” Next his hand went to their ribs, and as his fingertips brushed against their exposed skin Miss Fortune shivered; was Astarion cold to the touch, or was their sweat-soaked body merely playing tricks on them?
“A quick jab between the ribs will puncture a lung and they’ll be unable to call for help,” Astarion continued. Even talking about murder, the man’s voice was so sensual and calming, somehow soft and gravelly at the same time. Miss Fortune realized it would take a great deal of willpower to not just agree to anything he asked for when he used that voice. The pale elf’s hands traced along their ribs down to their lower back before miming another double jab. “Those darling kidneys back here don’t like to be prodded either; while this won’t bring as swift a death as other places, rest assured your target will not be long for this world without those organs.”
The cold feeling dissipated as Astarion stopped touching them and continued the demonstration elsewhere on their body. “Nobody expects a thrust to the armpit, yet you can get a lovely bloodletting from that most unguarded place,” he said as he once again moved his hand to mime thrusting into the crook of their arm. “And of course, darling, there’s always a good stab upwards at the crotch. But we’re not on intimate enough terms yet for me to show you that one,” he teased, stepping away.
“If you’re done with your demonstration, it’s your turn Astarion,” Lae’zel interjected.
The pair of rogues switched places. Miss Fortune felt ill at ease standing with Lae’zel. They blocked her presence out of their mind, instead putting all their focus on watching Astarion run through the same maneuvers they’d just finished. The half-elf noted with approval how gracefully he moved as he flitted across the clearing. Almost like a cat, his feet hardly seemed to touch the ground at times. They were certain his stealthiness surpassed theirs. When it came time to strike, however, Miss Fortune noticed two things: he seemed to hesitate for a split moment deciding where to strike, and his strikes were surprisingly weak given his athletic physique. His build was slighter than theirs but his muscles were better defined, so the revelation was baffling. They relayed these thoughts to both Lae’zel and Astarion when it came time to report their findings.
“I’m merely holding back, darling, wouldn’t want to intimidate you if we’re going to be forced to work together,” Astarion sniffed, though his eyes darted to the side as he spoke.
“Enough,” Lae’zel cut in. “I agree with your assessments of each other. You’re dismissed for the night. Rest up, I won’t go easy on you tomorrow.” She left without waiting for a response, leaving the rogues alone in the clearing at the edge of camp.
“Well, this is an interesting development,” Miss Fortune tested the waters.
“Mm, yes, I suppose it is,” Astarion drawled, once again sounding bored.
“I’m gonna go wash up in the river; care to join me?”
“I’ll pass, little bird. I’ve got my own needs to see to.”
“Understandable,” Miss Fortune said with a smile, trying to mask their disappointment. “Perhaps I’ll catch you around the fire after?”
“Perhaps,” Astarion said with a noncommittal wave of his hand as he turned to leave.
The first thing Miss Fortune did when they got back from the river was stop by Gale’s tent to see how he was feeling. They felt a pang of guilt when they realized he’d already turned in for the night. It had been a jolt to their nervous system watching the barbarian bandit smash his back against their knee. They could still hear the sickening snap of his spine, feel the erratic racing of their heart as they feared for their new friend’s life. Lae’zel had been right. They had bickered with Astarion over their approach and wound up alerting the group to their presence, effectively handing over the advantage. Gale was in this sorry state because of them, and now they’d have to stew in their guilt a little longer before they could properly apologize.
Miss Fortune recognized that familiar dark, heavy fog rolling through their brain, and they thought of the other night when Astarion barged in on them furiously jerking off in order to earn enough peace for a night of sleep. Remembered his words of how so-called normal people handled insomnia and decided to try reading the book they’d nabbed from the ruins that day.
And so it was that Astarion returned to camp to find Miss Fortune stretched out on their stomach by the fire, brow furrowed as they stared down at a mildewy tome.
“Ah, I see you’re picking up a new hobby,” the pale elf interrupted smugly. “Borrowed a book from Gale, did you? This one has seen better days. I would have thought the wizard would take better care of his most prized possessions.”
Miss Fortune looked up from the ancient text. “I grabbed this from the ruins today - it looked cool, but…I’m having a hard time reading it. Seems like the writing is very old.”
“Hmm, mind if I have a look?” He asked as he glided down to sit beside them. Miss Fortune pushed themselves up and handed the book over. He snapped the book shut to observe the cover and looked as if someone had doused him with icy cold water. “The Curse of the Vampyr?! What in the hells possessed you to pick up a book like this?”
“I…what’s wrong with it?”
Within moments the calm, charming mask was back in place. “Oh, nothing really, this is just much too advanced for a novice reader like yourself. Tell you what: why don’t I take this off your hands, and you can borrow one of my storybooks? I’m sure I have something more suitable. I might even have one with pictures.”
“…Sure, sounds great,” Miss Fortune said suspiciously. They could tell something was off about this situation, they just couldn’t tell what. “Thank you.”
“Of course, of course, anything for my favorite traveling companion.” His face was too perfectly composed, only deepening the half-elf’s unease. They decided to change the subject. “On another note, Astarion, I’ve noticed that you haven’t really eaten much of anything the last few days.”
“Have you now?”
“I struggle with that, too. Growing up I sometimes was purposely not given food for days at a time so I could be thinner, and even now it can be difficult not to do it to myself.”
“…I see.” His face was unreadable, as if resolved to give nothing away.
“You don’t have to share anything you don’t want to. Just know that I get it and I’m here if you want to talk. But keeping our strength up is more important right now than a thin waist. That’s what I keep trying to tell myself, anyway.”
“Heh, you’re sweet. Thank you. I’m sure I’ll be up for sharing in due time, little bird. But for now, let me fetch you a new book.”
He rose, taking The Curse of the Vampyr with him into his tent. He returned moments later, a fresher, smaller text in his hand. “Here,” he said, holding it out. “This one’s got dashing knights and the like, should be far easier to get through.”
“Hopefully it will help quiet my mind,” Miss Fortune sighed as they took the offered book.
“Well, I suppose you’ve always got your old fallback plan if it doesn’t, hmm?” His grin was nearly predatory.
“Hey, whatever works, right?” Miss Fortune shot back, refusing once again to give him leverage over them for that. “Thanks again for the book. I’d better get to quieting my mind one way or another. Sweet dreams,” they said as they got up, rolling their bedroll back up. They spared one last backward glance on their way to the tent to find Astarion watching them go. In the glow of the fire, they noticed a deep sadness in his eyes that matched the brokenness Miss Fortune felt inside. They felt an invisible tug to go back over to him but ignored it - it was too soon, they reminded themselves.
“Sweet dreams,” Astarion replied before he, too, got up to put out the fire and return to his tent.
Sweet dreams were not in the cards for Miss Fortune, however. That night they thrashed wildly in their bedroll, sweaty and afraid, as visions flitted through their mind. They dreamt they were stuck in a bird cage with nothing but a bed clad in the finest silk sheets. As the scene panned out they were one of hundreds of people trapped in a field of birdcages. A pair of giant hands methodically opened each cage, removed the person, and either choked the life out of them or outright snapped their necks. The walls of Miss Fortune’s mind reverberated with the sickening sounds of bones snapping and people gurgling, fighting for breath. As each one died the giant discarded them unceremoniously into a pile until they had to crane their neck to see to the top of the pile of corpses. Their dream self searched the whole cage for a secret exit, finding none. Next they tried to pick the lock of their cage but their fingers didn’t work right and they kept dropping their lockpick. The hands reached their cage and the half-elf tried to flee only to find the silk bedsheets had come to life, wrapping themselves around their wrists and ankles. They were bound tight as the hand reached in for them, the giant’s rumbling laugh shaking through their whole skeleton.
“Do you want a quick death or a slow one?” it boomed.
“Quick!” Miss Fortune shouted, eliciting more peals of booming thunderous laughter.
“You don’t deserve a quick death. Request denied.” And a hand closed around their windpipe.
Real
words cannot describe the joy you feel when you finally find the fic you've been looking for for the past weeks
Pain is finding the fanfic with the exact plot you wanted to read and seeing that it's been 5 years since the last update, hope is the last thing to die😔
bookmarking fics this, marking for later that - Wrong!
look at that smile. that's a smile that says open another tab like god intended
JayVik
https://archiveofourown.org/works/60997216/chapters/155827075
Butterfly Nebulas (WIP 200k+ words); arcane retold if everyone had more friends and communicated a little better
https://archiveofourown.org/works/61125145/chapters/156181690
Say My Name (219,294 words); Jayce and Viktor come back with an arcane bond and have a lot of personal and political conflict to navigate
https://archiveofourown.org/works/44701480/chapters/112469554
Wedded Bliss (WIP 40k+ words); Viktor and Jayce have to get married in order for Viktor to collect some inheritance
https://archiveofourown.org/works/61255186
not even work husbands, just regular husbands (6,561 words); Viktor kisses Jayce when Mel catches them outside Heimerdinger’s office and now all of Piltover thinks they’re married
https://archiveofourown.org/works/60888046
Monuments (14,881 words), Jayce likes to make things for Viktor. He starts with a new cane after they use it to block Heimerdinger’s door and then steadily spirals out of control.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/61767631
You’re the Sun (To Me) (10,186 words); Jayce thinks pomegranates are worth the effort it takes to eat them
https://archiveofourown.org/works/35978476
I don’t need to be your type (I’m already your partner) (12,228 words); Jayce and Viktor are partners and it’s not entirely Jayce’s fault that people think that means more than it does but it is mostly Jayce’s fault
https://archiveofourown.org/works/61181368/chapters/156339844
affection (16,521 words); Jayce and Viktor don’t really fall in love as much as they settle into it
https://archiveofourown.org/works/61066792
Spotlight (9,907 words); Viktor agrees to accompany Jayce to a gala out of concern that his partner’s boundaries are being violated at these events
https://archiveofourown.org/works/61036519/chapters/155930317
Stay Your Pretty Eyes On Course (66,857 words); Jayce wakes up on the day he met Viktor after the Hexcore collapses. Viktor doesn’t remember what they went through or will go through. Then he does.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/61488289/chapters/157188160
The Firelight Tree (58,805 words); after the hexcore collapse Viktor, Ekko, and Jayce heal and support each other
https://archiveofourown.org/works/61315456
Silent Currents (20,947 words); Viktor takes a trip to the undercity and has a pretty bad go of things coming back
https://archiveofourown.org/works/59410696/chapters/151511995
Coming Home (But Not to You) (118,872 words); modern academia!au in which Jayce and Viktor are former lab partners who had a falling out and now have to be coworkers as professors
https://archiveofourown.org/works/61088311/chapters/156075370
Because you want to die for love, you always have (10,997 words); Jayce and Viktor loving and being loved through the years
https://archiveofourown.org/works/50431840
Local Gays Somehow Think They Share a Last Name Platonically (1,064 words); for the purposes of paperwork Viktor is Viktor Talis. I love this concept tbh
https://archiveofourown.org/works/35280274
Noble Affairs (1,396 words); similar premise to the above fic. You get it. I’d read a hundred of these if I could find them.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/35933506/chapters/89590369
knowledge (and all of its consequences) (23,233 words); Jayce in fics is as his best when he’s a total simp obsessed with his lab partner like all the best scientists are
https://archiveofourown.org/works/37194847/chapters/92796472
The Infamous Couch (10,408 words); 5 times they sleep on the couch in the lab +1 time they sleep somewhere else
https://archiveofourown.org/works/61023325/chapters/155893003
A silence so soft it’s only memory (81,101 words); Jayce is sent back in time and gets a chance to do things a little differently
https://archiveofourown.org/works/35262118/chapters/87876970
doctrine (73,784 words); Viktor is financing the firelights and ends up deeply involved as the conflicts evolve
https://archiveofourown.org/works/62889319/chapters/161033905
Oh, To Be Touched By You (24,088 words); Viktor worries he’s reading too much into physical affection from Jayce
https://archiveofourown.org/works/36112462/chapters/90022234
divine alchemy of the self (40,031 words); Jayce and Viktor desperately try to combat Viktor’s illness and keep him alive
https://archiveofourown.org/works/57677704
I prayed (God sent me right to voicemail) (5,156 words); academy era fic where winter is tough for Viktor but he and Jayce enjoy each other’s company
https://archiveofourown.org/works/62009713
Intertwined, Sewn Together (10,674 words); a blizzard, a cold, and a pain flare up means Viktor has to do his least favorite thing: be vulnerable, but Jayce gets to do his favorite thing: take care of someone he loves
How it feels to finish writing one ending and to realize i need to still go over and edit it before posting it 💀 this to my readers that want to just choose joy and whimsy
I fucking hate the god dam ao3 app it is my biggest op rn omg, I hate it 😡😡😡 it just posted a fic I was working on twice and I can't unpost in ao3 because I would have to delete it and I don't want to delete it I'm so annoyed and embarrassed and i can't do anything about it 😭😭😭 like why!!!!
It's even worse this time because it barely has thing for it and I was testing stuff out to see how it would look and it was a project and now I'm crying and if you see it plz don't click on it I want to save my dignity at most 😨 but if you do plz give me pointers on it ik
Also the ao3 app has so many ads like so many that make it kinda impossible and I do remember complaining about it and how if you click off of it, completely wipes what you wrote and that happened to me once and it completely made me lose all motivation I had and I almost finished it and I loved it 😔
I already decided what I would do for the first chapter but I can't decide what to do for the second and I just want other people's opinions rather then spend an hour on a spin the wheel for each chapter so I'm doing another poll
This is all I can think of, for now anyway byeee (◍•ᴗ•◍)
guys i’m going insane im trying to post a new chapter to my fic and it’s not showing up at the top of any of the tags like it normally does 😭😭 i cleared my cache and im not posting between 12am-5am UTC time and the date of publication is right and idk what else to do 😭 i feel like ppl aren’t gonna realize there’s a new chapter unless it’s at the top 😭 does anyone know what i can do to fix this
It's always "Worry about real children" until people do worry about the real children GROWN ASS ADULTS wrote porn of on ao3. Real child actors, real random teenagers, real children. Those are all things allowed on ao3 and as much as i love fanfiction i care about children more. you people are so dumb for trying to defend this people, "it's just fantasies" YOU SHOULDN'T BE FANTASIZING ABOUT CHILDREN IN THE FIRST PLACE 🤦♀️
Kink shaming is okay actually, pro shippers on their way to defend p0rn of a REAL CHILD, what's surprising there. I don't want ANYYY of you telling people pro-shippers are normal and their "fantasies" are okay, they're pedos and only chronically online mf would think otherwise. Christopher is played BY AN ACTUAL child. Out here power scaling which fandom has more pedophiles... bring back shame fr
Ao3 tags!!!
Been a while since I've done one of these so here you go
the holy grail types of fanfic
Ao3 is back up!! Enjoy your fics and don’t forget to show your support to the volunteers working through the DDOS attack!
Fic Teaser: Violet Midnight Ch.14
"Wednesday," Tyler rasped, voice a whisper of what it normally was. "Can I keep you?"
My heart ached. "You can keep me."
"Forever? You won't change your mind and leave?"
"Never. I'm your nightmare now."
I felt him smile against my neck. "Good thing I like being scared."
.
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chapter 14 arriving june 13. click below to catch up on this neon colored fever dream romance.
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Sex, Drugs, Etc.
Warnings: Talk of drugs/Drug use. Possible smut in the future. SH. A lot of plot. EXTREME Canon divergence. Before Maddies time. Set in 2022
I got a lot of inspiration and motivation from @whoopsyeahokay series called October Sun if you haven't read it yet I recommend you do its amazing, you can find it on tumblr and Ao3. October Sun
(This is very self indulgent and based on things ive been through and how I could have very easily ended up as a ghost. This is NOT meant to romanticize addiction or mental illness. This is a judgment free zone so I want no bullying or hate on anyone. I'm not the best writer so be nice)
1.9k Words
Enjoy :)
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Two days, two fucking days you’ve been rotting and no ones come to find you. Well no one alive at least.
It started off normal, nothing out of the ordinary. Just another boring school day with the same washed out boring people. Tired eyes and even more tired souls. So what changed? A little slip up on the same thing that had almost claimed your life many times over the years except this time no one was there to save you.
You were 14 when you first learned the only way for your brain to stop spinning, trying to find a new way to obtain peace was with a very simple little thing. Weed, this wasn't what was deadly, no it was what started the cycle. First it was weed, then it was alcohol, then it was late night parties, until one day it fell into the palm of your hand. A simple little pill, how could it cause so much damage? Things were fine until one pill turned into two then two turned into three and then you ended up on the patio of a stranger's porch foaming out the mouth. 4 days in the hospital and 2 weeks in rehab was enough to scare you for a while, but not enough to make you forget about the relief that came with it.
That's how you ended up here, sitting in a circle sharing stories about life and death, a group of highschool boys who had no idea you were even there, playing basketball behind you. Should have just gone to group like you were told to, at least then you would have been with people who understood addiction. Now judgmental eyes fall upon you because you caused your own death. As much as you wanted to find someone, something to blame you knew you couldn't, this was your fault. The spinning hasn't stopped. At least ghosts couldn't go through withdrawal, doesn’t change the fact that the empty feeling you tried so desperately to fill is more presint than ever.
The sweet voice of Mr.Martin fills the room. Like white nose until you heard him call your name. Head shooting up to look up at him. “Have you started working on your obituary?” Ah yes, ghost homework. you would have never thought that you would have been asked to write your own obituary yet here we are. Not as easy as it sounds.
“I’ve got some ideas” Like when you got so drunk you threw up on your friends cat, or when you were so high that your brother convinced you the plane flying over your house was a UFO, fun memories. Apparently you were supposed to write about the good parts of your life but that's kinda hard when the only good memories you had were caused by what put you in this situation to begin with.
“Take your time, if you need to im sure some of the others wouldn't mind telling you about what they wrote, for motivation.” You give a simple nod, wanting all the prying eyes around you to look away. And they do, except a certain pair that had been watching you since you got here.
Wally Clark, a sweet boy, bright future, died to soon like everyone else in this fucked up version of your own personal hell. He asked too many questions, it wasn't a secret how you died, just something you didn't want to talk about. He respected that, like most of the others, most. Doesn't stop him from prying, staring with curious eyes.
“I think that's all for today, don't forget tomorrow's movie night as always our newest member will be picking the movie.” You give an awkward smile before standing up and turning to leave along with the rest of the group. Heavy footsteps creeping up behind you and the sound of your name being called stops you as the tall boy catches up.
“So um do you need help with your obituary? not to brag but I think I did a pretty good job on mine.” Wally was quite attractive, tall, with big brown eyes, and slick back brown fluffy hair. No doubt having made girls fawn over him during his lifetime. You and him weren't exactly friends but the idea of having a little help writing… well, a self obituary wasn't bad.
“Sure, we could go to the library.” An excited grin grew on Wallys face, not expecting you to say yes.
“Yeah, yeah the library sounds great” It was kinda cute how he acted sometimes. Not like a typical jock, a pure golden retriever.
“Cool” You stand there kinda awkwardly, hands in the pockets of your red zip up hoodie as you gave him an expecting look.
“Oh like now?” He was somehow the most confident yet most awkward person in the world. “Um okay yeah that works”
You tilt your head sideways towards the door leading out the gym, indicating for him to follow you out. Taking the lead and making your way out, opening the door for him. “Ladies first” He let out a small chuckle at your attempt at a joke, considering it was the first time you really talked to anyone since everything happened. It wasn't that you didn't like people, you just didn’t understand the point of friends. It might sound depressing but having a small group of people that you know will stick around is better than hanging around people that barely know you. Yet here you are, stuck with strangers for eternity or until you finally move on, however long that’ll take.
The hallway was filled with loud teens, some rushing to their next class others going out the back door, more than likely skipping. “So how does this work?” You look over at him.
“What? The afterlife?” He looks at you, a little nervous. “I don’t think im the best person to explain it to you, that's more of Charley's thing.” Charley was sweet, the first person you met when you woke up. Some sort of after life guide.
“No, a self obituary.” The words felt weird coming out your mouth. “I know I'm supposed to write about all the great things in life but I don't think huffing nitrous in my uncles bathroom on thanksgiving really counts as a good memory.”
“Nitrous? like the shit in whipped cream?” He gave you a sideways look, a concerned but humored smile on his face.
“Yes, the shit in whipped cream, I don't recommend. I passed out and almost had a seizure.” As we reach the library he opens the door, allowing you to go in first.
“Okay, maybe don’t include that in your obituary, how about” He thought for a second. “Write about your friends and family, I'm sure you have some good memories with them.”
You let out a frustrated sigh as you sat down at a table, Wally sitting down across from you as you take off your backpack, pulling a pencil and the folder Mr.Martin had given you. “That's too much work, do you think Mr.Martin would notice if I just copied yours?” Wally laughs a little, his straight white teeth showing.
“No, he’ll totally believe that you played football and lost your virginity in your moms car.” Now you’re the one laughing, his sentence coming out way too casually.
“You lost your virginity in your moms car?” You take a few seconds to process before you look at him judgmentally. “You included how you lost your virginity?” Though the smiles’ still apparent on your face.
“Happy memories, remember?” And there's the jock attitude you were waiting for, somehow a bit surprising but not unexpected. “You could just write your feelings.” You have a whole journal for that from when you got sober… soberish.
“This may come as a shock to you but I'm not exactly a feelings person.” Not totally true, it was just easier to not feel anything at all, especially with the situation you're in right now.
“Really? I couldn't tell” The sarcastic tone in his voice very apparent. “Alright fine, if you were happiest when you were high then it's worth writing.”
“Great, so high stories, got it” Though it wasn't the best idea, you had to write something so Mr.Martin would get off your ass about it. Reminiscing was a slippery slope, you were holding up decently so far but contrary to what all the others think it hurt deep down. “How about the first time I tried molly?” Probably one of the best ‘happy pills’ you tried in your lifetime.
“What was it like?” He clearly had no intentions of finding out first hand, just curious of the experience.
“It made me really aware but like in a good way.” There was no real way to describe it without going into depth. “And kinda trippy I guess, does that make sense?”
“Yeah, I guess.” He knew he could never truly understand, no one could unless they experienced it themselves. As you begin to jot down the memory Wally peaks over, looking at the page though it's not very useful due to the fact that he doesn't possess the skill to read upside down.
“Nosey” You laugh a little at his attempt to get to know you better. “You know if you want to get to know me, maybe there are better ways to do it then helping me write my own obituary” Yep, still didn't sound right.
“Oh um yeah, this is probably a really weird first hang out.” He laughs awkwardly at the realization that this is still new to you. It wasn't like he had never been around a new ghost before, he knew he was supposed to be slow, supportive, ease them into it but with the way you acted sometimes made him think you were more used to this than he was. In a way you were, death was something that you had imagined so many times so when it actually came the idea of being trapped wasn't one you hadn't thought of before. “How about after we're done with this I could take you down to the pool?”
You smile, the sentiment was sweet. “Thanks, but I don't know how to swim.” You were never taught and it didn't seem important in life so you just never learned. The surprised look on Wallys face was priceless.
“How the hell are you 18 and don’t know how to swim?” It wasn't judgmental, just a little surprised, but the grin on his face indicated that he had an idea.
“Oh god, what are you thinking about?” You knew what was coming, he wouldn't be him if he didn’t jump at the opportunity to help a new friend. Wally was very readable and you didn’t know if that was a good thing yet.
“I could teach you.” And there it was, of course he wanted to teach you. “It could be fun, plus you don't have much else to do.”
“You know what fuck it, you’re right there isnt shit else to do.” Especially with your body still laying cold in the old abandoned locker rooms aka ‘the brain cave’.
“Great, you should keep writing, the faster you get it over with the less weird it feels.” And that's how it started, you were never the friend type but as much as you hated to say it you needed someone. Sure that someone is very attractive and the idea of seeing him in nothing but swim trunks was a nice image but who could blame you? The afterlife is lonely.
Pt.2
STOP USING "/" WHEN YOU'RE FIC IS ABOUT
PLATONIC LOVE IM TWEAKING PLEASE USE "&"
(This doesn't apply to "open for interpretation" fics)
Is A03 down??? I'm gonna start tweaking cus i found the best superbat fanfic with the angst and everything please