#katie writes too

[inkskinned]

i got my isbn today for the book. 8 months to go. my mom and i were talking about what the next steps are. i was eating trail mix, standing on one foot, phone tucked into my ear.

"yeah," i said. "the problem is that tumblr as a market is like, not something that can be studied." there's this weird wave of nostalgia and affection for this place that came up over me: how lovely we avoid consumerism. okay, it sucks as a creator. but also? keep stickin' it to 'em.

my mother made the sound at the back of her throat that i also make, the one that means i've got an idea. "you should figure out some kind of reward for presale amounts. maybe you give out poems or a mug or a signed book or something. would your followers like that?" my mother is sweet, and kind, and i have no idea how to explain on this website you can buy someone crabs.

i put more m&ms down the hatch. i had to speak through peanuts and almonds. "if it passes 25 thousand i will print the book out in its entirety and eat it live on camera."

"oh god. no, you don't have to do that." she was anguished. "just tell them that you'd love them to read it, and that they've inspired you to write. you got started on that site, and they helped you keep going. raquel, you love these people. the community? you talk all the time about the other writers and artists and whatever else. tell them that you're hoping for their support, they'll come through."

"no," i assured her. i discovered i had dropped an m&m, but an ant had already found it, so it belonged to him now. i will let his little life have a surprise blue treasure in it, too. "i'm gonna fuckin' eat the book."

#writeblr #:) #the small secret love i have for y'all. the way i am filled with gratitude. #for the nosebleed club. for stephen particularly. #for every artist i've ever been in contact with and collaborated with. #for every person who has commented on my work and passed it along or fallen in love with it #for every silent 'just hitting like' follower and for every person who sends me dms and for each of you #i know i suck at replying bc i have anxiety. but like. you keep being here. so i keep writing. #i legit wouldn't be here without you. #thank you sophie thank you katie thank you carolyn thank you stephanie thank you jess #thank you if you're reading this #i got too overwhelmed with love and have to stop writing this FAR too early into the thank yous bc im about to cry with love

[nocofamilyau]

not related to noco at all but what is katie and sadie’s relationship like now?

pretty good all things considered! while they're both married to two sweet guys and have separate families (none of their kids are other td characters, unfortunately...) they're still really close, and still live next to each other at that same beach town they grew up in, now both running that successful 80s themed ice cream business they've been dreaming of! its safe to say they probably suffered the least on Total Drama, only leaving with a couple of minor scars, good god were they lucky..

#noco family au #total drama #total drama katie #total drama sadie #total drama katie and sadie #I mean its ok to ask non-coco related questions here I won't complain #and I guess it makes sense talking about these two since they made like #a VERY brief cameo in the Wayne arc #just thinking but I've been too harsh on these two for a bit now they're actually pretty sweet #like yea they were annoying and gimmicky on the show but #they kinda feel like wasted potential #like their bios talk about so much we don't see in the show #like how they love the 80s #or that they make their own ice cream #or that Katie sews their clothes from scratch? #like #that's fucking adorable #but then they're resorted to annoying filler characters #like I sorta get it from a writing standpoint but.. #when Katie was voted off they did sweet FUCK ALL with Sadie #like Sadie didn't even SPEAK until the episode she was eliminated #and then they don't show up again unless its to simp for this seasons hot boy or whatever #idk

[missluthorwillseeyounow]

“Your sister found me because she was ready.”

Kara frowns. “Ready for what?”

“For the truth.” Lena replies simply. “To wake up and leave the lie behind.”

“The lie?” Lena’s words bring back echoes of Alex’s message. The Matrix still has you… You’ll find me, if you’re ready to wake up. “You mean… the Matrix?”

“Yes.”

Kara leans forward, her attention caught. “What is the Matrix?”

Lena sighs, her eyes clouding over. “I’m afraid no one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself. Right now, all I can tell you is that the Matrix is everywhere. It’s all around us. It’s in the air we breathe, in everything we touch…”

Lena ventures a hand between them to touch Kara’s, their hands connecting in the slightest. And even though she knows that she’s not really touching Kara’s hand, her mind feeds her the sensations of it — the softness of Kara’s skin, the gentle press of her flesh under Lena’s fingers.

Lena draws her hand away, and Kara follows it avidly with her eyes. “For you to know what the Matrix is, I have to go back to the beginning. Or at least, to where it begins for us.”

Or, the Supercorp Matrix AU

[So I found an old Matrix AU from a different fandom while I was rooting through my drive, and I thought it could be retooled into a Supercorp AU. Little did I know what I was inviting into my brain, but here we are suffering the consequences. (And now I have 2 different supercorp Matrix AUs. Great.) Spoilers ahead for the OG trilogy.]

In the movies, Neo is the One, but there are other Potentials. Each Potential displays extraordinary abilities beyond the standards of normal. Kara and Lena are both Potentials. Either one of them could be the One.

It begins in the Matrix, when Lena gets adopted by the Luthors as a little girl.

The Luthors are a picture-perfect family. Powerful, affluent, and respected. The father, the mother and the golden son. And Lena - smart, angelic and pretty, the perfect daughter - is the ideal addition to make their picturesque family complete.

Except when she's about 4 or so, it becomes apparent that Lena is not like other children.

It's immediately clear that her intellect far surpasses people four, five times her age. Lena is sharp and brilliant, able to grasp complex concepts most adults cannot. She seems to see the world around her in a different way.

The Luthors are no strangers to gifted children, their son Lex was deemed a prodigy at around the same age. At first, Lionel and Lillian take this as yet another proof of how exceptional Luthors are, and Lena is proudly displayed as their indigo child.

But Lena's talent develops as fast as she does.

Soon, she begins to exhibit strange, unexplained abilities. An expensive Waterford crystal goblet in Lionel's hand explodes when Lena has a tantrum. Once, Lillian walks into her playroom to find Lena having tea with her dolls, and when Lillian enters, all heads turn to her. Lena's and all four of her Madame Alexander dolls.

Her intellect begins to surpass what defines “normal” intelligence. She predicts and successfully foils an assassination attempt against Lionel. She prevents Lex from getting hit by a driver in a car chase five blocks away.

The last straw comes when Lena finds out that the cleaning lady's five year old son has cancer.

Lena convinces Alma to take her to see him. Five hours later, a tearful Alma brings the little girl back with something akin to wonder in her eyes. "Your little girl is an angel, Mr. Luthor. Bendecida por la Virgen. She cured my Carlos! She took away his sickness! Ella es un milagro de Dios!”

However, far from seeing it as a miracle, the Luthors circle the wagons. The next day, Lena finds out Alma has been dismissed, and a shift occurs in the Luthor household.

When Lena's abilities were within the parameters of "normal", they were good, something to be proud of. But now that her gifts have proven to be beyond that, they become alien, freakish. Something to be hidden. People would be asking too many questions, and Luthors do not permit those.

Suddenly, instead of being lauded for what she is able to do, Lena is now scrutinized and examined to find out what's "wrong" with her. It begins to strain the family that is obsessed with order and perfection.

They take Lena to various doctors and put her through all sorts of tests, but none of them seem able to find an explanation for Lena’s strange abilities.

Until they meet Rhea, an educator who runs an exclusive facility for “gifted” children.

An elegant and well-spoken woman, Rhea seems fascinated by Lena. Her teaching “methods” seem vague, but out of all the specialists Lena has seen so far, she is the only one who seems to understand and make a connection with her. At the very least, they seem to speak the same language. Rhea knows about this Matrix Lena has been talking about.

Rhea asks Lena if she wants to find out what the Matrix truly is. And when Lena agrees, Rhea takes the little girl to the Oracle to confirm her suspicions that she is a Potential.

Lena is taken to a tall building, riding all the way to the top floor with her little hand in Rhea’s. On the 64th floor, they enter a glass office in which an imperious looking blond woman sits, watching her with a piercing eye.

“Leave us.”

The woman orders sharply, slanting a glare at Rhea. She is at least 6 inches shorter than Rhea, even in heels, but her tone and her face brook no argument. Rhea retreats with a seething sneer, but she complies.

“Now, you,” the woman turns to Lena with a dark look and a raised brow. It fails to intimidate Lena, who has lived with Lillian Luthor’s pointed glares for the past three years of her life. “Do you know why you’re here?”

Lena merely blinks at her. “Because I know things.”

The woman scoffs. “So do I. Doesn’t make you special.” She gestures around her at her office with a spectacular view. “I know things too.”

Lena’s eyebrows rise as well. “Not everything.”

The woman’s glare intensifies, but Lena stares her down. After a moment, a corner of the woman’s mouth lifts, and she barks out a laugh. “You’re a smart one, aren’t you?”

Lena clasps her hands behind her back. “So I’ve been told.”

“Do you know who I am?”

Lena nods. “You’re the Oracle.”

The woman snorts delicately. “Did Rhea tell you that?”

Lena regards her solemnly. “She didn’t have to.”

The woman’s eyes narrow at her, but Lena says nothing more. She is scrutinized for another moment before the woman smirks. “Alright. Since you’re so smart, why don’t you tell me what you already know.”

Lena blinks at her, responding to the woman’s scrutinizing gaze in kind. “I know that you’re not human.”

Another laugh, this time louder. Piercing blue eyes gain a twinkle of mirth. “Very good. What else?”

“I know that you’re not real.”

The woman scoffs disdainfully. “Real is an abstract concept.”

“I know that I’m dreaming, and none of this is real.”

The mirth suddenly vanishes from the woman’s gaze, and her blue eyes stare at Lena intently. “What do you mean?”

Lena sweeps her little arms across the room. “This. All of this. Everything. It’s not real. It’s just a dream.”

The woman is leaning forward now. It looks to Lena as if she is holding her breath. “And what makes you think that?”

Lena chews thoughtfully on her lower lip. “Have you ever read Plato’s allegory of the cave?”

The woman’s eyebrows rise and an amused smile dances over her lips. “Of course.”

“It feels like that. Like the people chained to the walls of the cave, watching just shadows and reflections. Other people — even my parents, even Lex — they look around them and think that this is the real thing. But all we’re seeing are just shadows. Sometimes it makes me feel confused and blurry, like I’m dreaming, but I can’t wake up.”

The woman hums and her hands form a steeple under her chin as she continues to observe Lena.

"In the story, the prisoner who is freed into the sunlight was angry and in great pain after being in the dark for so long. Why would they go through that? Why not stay in the comfort of the darkness that they’ve known all their lives?”

Lena’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Because they would finally know the truth. They wouldn’t be living in a lie anymore. They would be free.”

A smile spreads across the woman’s face, and the nod she gives is almost approving. “Is that what you want?”

“Only if you tell me the truth.” Lena nods solemnly. “Will you tell me the truth, Oracle?”

“I’ll tell you everything you need to know.” The woman chuckles. “And one more thing. Call me Cat.”

Despite their animosity toward each other, both Cat and Rhea decide that Lena is more than ready for extraction.

The only problem is that Lena, at 6 years old, is one of the youngest children to be extracted so far. Because she’s so young, it’s decided that her family should be brought with her too. Lex, by then a teenager, is given a choice: to stay in the Matrix, or go down the rabbit hole, as it were.

Lex chooses to follow his family, and the Luthors are extracted by Rhea. They are brought on-board her ship, the Daxam. All four Luthors are taken to Zion, and told the truth about everything — the lie of the Matrix, the human harvest fields, and the fact that there is no going back.

That’s when it all goes to hell.

Lionel barely lasts three months.

Unable to accept the truth that his life of power and control was all a lie, and unwilling to believe that he now exists in a world where his name holds no weight, he somehow escapes Zion and finds his way to a human pod to try to inject himself back into the Matrix.

They search for him for weeks, and eventually they find him in the pod, impaled on the metal breathing hose stuffed into his mouth with the end sticking out the back of his head.

Lillian lasts longer, but this is no comfort.

Torn from her privileged life, her resentment begins to build and build, as she’s forced to accept her new reality.

Her perfect life was stolen from her. The high-paying job, the distinguished career, the unlimited influence, the beautiful house, the comfortable lifestyle — all gone. All apparently just a dream.

And now, Lillian has woken up to the dirt and drab and heat and toil of Zion’s underground, with nothing to show for her former life but the daughter she didn’t even ask for. The same daughter who is the very reason she’s trapped here now with no chance of going back.

She refuses to reconcile with her new reality, but she is no weakling like her husband. Instead, she lets the ugly, bitter ire fester inside her over the years, until it finally comes out.

One night, Lillian enters the rough, tiny cave that has become her unwilling home, creeps into the alcove carved into rock where her teenaged daughter sleeps and pours acid over her.

Lena’s screams wake others in the neighboring dwelling, and healers are immediately dispatched to tend to her wounds. Thankfully, Lena was turned away in her sleep, and the burns were limited to her back.

By the time her condition is pronounced stable, Lillian is gone.

Without her parents, Lena is taken in by Rhea to live with her, her husband Lar Gand and their infant son, Mon-El.

Rhea keeps Lena very close, almost jealously so. She prizes the young girl above all else in their household. Most of her time is devoted to teaching Lena, training her using the fight simulations and programs on the Daxam, instructing her on how to pilot the ship.

For Lena — who had grown up under Lillian’s growing resentment and bitterness, who had just survived a horrific attack on her by her own mother — Rhea is a godsend. Under Rhea’s maternal affection, Lena thrives. She pushes her own limits during her training, masters techniques with unparalleled speed and unerring accuracy, devours knowledge programs downloaded into her mind every time she’s plugged in. She blooms under Rhea’s freely-given praise, and works harder, starved as she was for acknowledgment and affection over the years.

As Rhea’s son, young Mon-El, grows up without displaying any unique abilities, he is often shunted to the side. Despite their age-difference, Lena makes a conscious effort to spend time with him, to give him the same nurturing Rhea is giving her.

She teaches Mon-El how to make repairs to the ship, explains how the thrusters work, how the pads keep the ship in balance. He’s most fascinated by the robotic armed exoskeletons that are kept at the dock for the city’s defense. He often asks Lena to take him to the bridge to watch them, and the two of them watch the exoskeletons being loaded, Lena leaning on the top rail, and Mon-El perched on the middle one, his skinny legs swinging in the air. As Lena smiles, the young boy boldly tells her that one day, he’ll pilot one of those.

It feels… nice. Almost like having a brother again. It feels like a second chance

After all, her own brother — well, that bridge was burned a long time ago, and Lena tries not to think about it.

But it’s hard to forget when she sees him all time, a nightmare come to life, whenever she’s plugged into the Matrix.

Lena will never forget the first time she saw her brother there.

Lex had abandoned them, had left his mother and sister in Zion years ago, as soon as he was of age. She’d tried to find him, had spent weeks, months, looking for him, to no avail.

Finally, Lena had been forced to accept that Lex had met their father’s fate. He could’ve been attacked by sentinels, gotten lost in the mechanical sewers, or worse, attempted the same thing Lionel had.

Either way, the result was the same, and the guilt and pain of it had been agony, but Lena had accepted it.

Until the day she met the Agent.

Most agents were already nigh indestructible, with their speed and brute strength, not to mention the internal communication they kept with each other through the program.

But this one… this one stayed on Lena’s tail with a dogged, malicious ferocity that she couldn’t shake off. It had been dangerously close several times already as he chased her throughout the dark, rain-soaked city streets. She couldn’t get a good lock on him, and it was all she could do to follow Jack’s instructions to the nearest extraction point.

Lena’s almost there, sliding into the booth, hand outstretched to grab the phone — when she sees it.

The Agent wearing her brother’s face, a feral smile stretching his lips as his fingertips brush the corner of her dark coat. The grin turns into a snarl as Lena lifts the phone to her ear, and he misses her by a millimeter.

It had been only a second, but… it was Lex.

Lena was sure of it. So sure that she had spent months hacking into the system with Brainy’s help, trying to find out what the hell was going on.

It takes six months of hacking into the mainframe to discover the truth. Lex had succeeded where their father had not. The son had surpassed the father.

Not only had Lex somehow managed to get himself reinserted into the Matrix, the anomaly of his presence in the code had also caused a glitch in the system itself.

It takes another encounter with Lex — in his new regalia of a generic black suit, bland tie and FBI-issued sunglasses — sneering at her as he points a gun at her head, to realize yet another knife-wound truth.

Her brother has become a virus in the Matrix.

________

Kara’s experience in the Matrix could not have been more different from Lena’s.

More than a decade before Lena was born, Kara Zorel was like any normal thirteen year old girl. She went to school, hung out with her friends, had a crush on the boy living next door. She got straight A’s, and volunteered at the local senior home.

Her quicksilver mind that could spot things others couldn’t was easily considered as part of her intelligence. She was a very smart girl, after all. Her obsession with puzzles and codes was easily filed away as a quirk or a phase she was going through until she found a new hobby.

Everything about her life seemed to be on track to become ordinary, until the day of the accident.

At least, they told her it was an accident. Kara doesn’t remember any of it. All she really remembers is waiting for a train at a subway station. She remembers her father mentioning a Trainmaster who would take them away, somewhere new. To a new home, her mother had said. [This is from the 3rd movie]

And then nothing.

Kara thinks she must have been dreaming, because she can remember being left alone in that subway station — the walls were blank and a sterile white, with nothing to indicate the presence of life except Kara herself sitting on the otherwise empty bench. She can remember the feeling of waiting, waiting endlessly for the nothing that would come — no trains, no other passengers, no one else at the station with her. She can remember running along the platform tirelessly, only to end up in the same place she’d started from. She remembers the feeling of being left behind and trapped and scared. Mostly scared.

And then the next thing she knows, she’s awake on a hospital bed with Eliza Danvers sleeping on the chair next to her.

The Danvers had found her on the train platform, curled up, unconscious, on the same bench she’d dreamed of. They’d thought she was a runaway, or a missing child, but the FBI agents who had come to Kara’s hospital room had told her that her parents were dead.

An accident, they’d said. A subway malfunction that had taken out a whole car. Under investigation, the man in sunglasses and a dark suit had reassured Jeremiah and Eliza in a monotonous voice.

With no one to claim her, no other family to speak of, Kara is taken in by the Danvers. They’re good people, kind and understanding when Kara wakes up in the middle of the night with nightmares of being trapped in a white sea of nothingness.

When Kara wakes up crying and sweating, Eliza is there to soothe her and rock her in her arms until she fell asleep again. When she tells Jeremiah that everything is too loud and bright, he sits her down and teaches her to calm her thoughts and meditate.

Alex, who had gone from being an only child to having an anxious, high-maintenance little intruder in her room, is less than happy about the situation. She keeps her distance, and gives Kara cold glares from across the bedroom or ignores her completely.

Until one night when Alex sneaks back into their room from the concert she’d snuck out to earlier, and finds Kara sitting on one corner of her bed with her knees curled up. With Alex gone for most of the night, Kara had been alone and had refused to fall asleep, terrified of having nightmares again.

With only a little bit of grumbling, Alex tosses all their pillows and blankets onto the floor, and drapes one of her sheets over both their beds to make their first blanket fort. The first of many.

Curled up on the floor next to Alex, Kara sleeps soundly through the night for the first time since waking up without her parents.

Still, despite slowly settling in with the Danvers, Kara can’t shake the feeling that something is off.

It feels as if everything around her is just a little bit off-kilter. As if the world had somehow changed in the time she’d been unconscious. Or maybe she had. Either way, it feels as if both Kara and the world around her know on some level that she’s not supposed to be here. Perhaps it’s because she was meant to die along with her parents. But by some unknown anomaly, here she is, half of her present, half of her straining to join her mother and father wherever they are.

It’s not a reflection on the Danvers. Kara couldn’t have asked for a better family to care for her. And she cares for them too. Over time, Kara gains a sister she would die for in a heartbeat, instead of a roommate who barely tolerated her presence when she first arrived. Her definition of ‘mother’ slowly expands and makes room for Eliza in her heart. She finds a man to respect and admire in Jeremiah.

Still, the feeling of being out of place persists throughout the years, always in the back of Kara’s mind.

Tragedy strikes when Jeremiah disappears.

It happens quickly, too quickly. One day her foster father is there, the next he’s gone. The only clue the police get is the last voicemail on Jeremiah’s phone.

The message starts with Jeremiah’s voice, reminding Alex that he’ll be picking her up from softball practice later, then it cuts off abruptly without warning.

Ten seconds later, another voice is heard through the other end, this time a smooth monotone. It sounds nothing at all like Jeremiah, and it sends a chill down Kara’s spine.

“The Luthor girl escaped again. She has eluded us one too many times for a human. She cannot avoid the inevitable…. Send the Brother. Next time, she dies.”

Nothing is found at the scene but Jeremiah’s phone. No evidence, no ransom note, no explanation for the strange message, nothing to trace, nothing to at all to suggest that Jeremiah Danvers was there. The blank-faced FBI agents offer no sympathy when they inform Eliza of the news in a smooth, apathetic monotone.

[[In case it’s not clear, Jeremiah got turned into an agent by the other agents who were chasing Lena during one of the times she was plugged into the Matrix]]

Their little family is shocked and reeling, but they cling to one another in their grief. Kara remembers something her mother always used to say. Stronger together, Kara. Life is hard, and we cannot face it alone. We must be each other’s strengths. We are always stronger together.

Still, life goes on. Keeps moving on, even after tragedy and loss. Sometimes, Kara feels as if the world is in constant motion, its inertia having no time to waste on a young girl who feels as if she has been left behind.

The sense of alienation increases, and Kara is diagnosed with depression. Which only serves to increase her family’s concern, and puts a near-permanent look of worry in Eliza’s eyes.

So Kara puts on her brightest smile and hugs her foster mother. She talks more, smiles wider, laughs louder, and makes more friends to go out with so she’s not at home alone in her room which no longer has Alex in it.

Alex goes to college, then med school, the chip on her shoulder large enough to be seen from space. She’s determined to find out what really happened to her father, and Kara knows how stubborn she is.

But she only really finds out how serious Alex is when her older sister declares that she’s joining the FBI, and no amount of talking from either Kara or Eliza can dissuade her.

And it’s not as if Kara has a leg to stand on. At least Alex has a purpose, a direction. Meanwhile, Kara has no idea what she wants to do with her life. She meanders around after college, a little bit lost and floundering. She’s intelligent, her professors said, but she lacks focus.

Eventually, she gets hired at Catco as an assistant to the big boss herself, Cat Grant.

All of 5’4” in heels, the woman herself strikes fear into the heart of every intern roaming the halls. It’s impossible not to snap to attention when her private elevator dings and she steps out. Each click of her heels is a reminder of the power she wields, and honestly, Kara is a little terrified of her.

But she straightens her spine and her glasses, tucks her hair behind her ear, and refuses to be cowed.

And it’s as if Miss Grant takes it as a challenge to break her, because her demands become more and more unrealistic, more and more impossible. But something inside Kara tells her not to back down, to stare her right back, and wait her out. Cat Grant is a puzzle, and Kara has always been good at puzzles.

The key comes in the form of Carter Grant.

Cat tasks Kara to pick her son up from school one afternoon, and Kara finds the young boy waiting for her right outside the school gates. He’s a very sweet boy, a little shy, but he eventually tells Kara about this comic he’s been reading about a young superhero named Supergirl.

As he begins to brighten up talking about his new favorite character, Carter doesn’t notice the car coming from the other side of the street. Neither does Kara at first. But something inside her tells her to turn around.

Maybe it was a sound, an instinct, and unconscious observation too quick for her mind to consciously process. Whatever it was, it had her turning just in time to see the car heading straight for Carter.

She barely has time to pull the boy back to the sidewalk, and the car almost clips him. Almost.

“Are you okay??” Kara hurriedly checks Carter for any injuries or signs that he’s shaken up. Other than the boy’s wide eyes, he seems to be fine.

“That- that was amazing! You were so fast, Kara! You were like Supergirl! How did you do that?”

As they walk back home, Cart gushes about how awesome Kara’s save was, how she was as fast and strong as Supergirl. Kara laughs it off, but the relief that the boy is okay lingers.

The second the front door closes behind Kara, Carter pulls out a phone and scrolls through the contact list until he finds ‘Mom’.

When Cat answers, he whispers excitedly into the phone. “She did it! She was even faster than Lena by 0.02 seconds!”

“Good. Did she say anything else?”

“She mentioned her sister. Are you going to tell the Manhunter? Is J’onn going to pull them out? Or maybe Lena can come? I like it when she comes to visit.”

A rustle of paper in the background, and Cat drawls in an almost bored voice. “Not yet. She’s not ready.”

[[In this AU, Carter is a computer program designed to assist the Oracle. Kinda like Seraph in the movies. He and Cat have a very unusual relationship. He was just supposed to be a simple program to help ward her, but he was designed to be charming in an innocent and disarming way to help distract from his real purpose. Cat developed a fondness for him, so when he tries to protect her when she’s in danger, she ends up shoving him behind her and protecting him.]]

On the anniversary of Jeremiah’s disappearance, another tragedy rocks the Danvers family.

Alex Danvers disappears.

Eliza is inconsolable, but Kara… Kara is numb, at first. Denial is always the first instinct of the human mind when a shock is delivered to its system. There’s talk of a search, trying to find out where she might have gone, her usual routine, any places Alex frequents — it all rolls over Kara’s head. They’re looking for a body, but that’s not how Alex is gonna be found.

Unlike Jeremiah’s disappearance, Alex’s is not without a trail. She is an FBI agent after all. There will always be a trail, and like in most FBI cases, it can be found in the absence of one.

In this case, it’s Alex’s computer. It’s missing.

The more Kara thinks about it, the more it galvanizes her. Kara knows Alex, knows her quirks and her habits. She didn’t have many friends outside of work, mostly people from med school she’s since lost touch with. No, anything that happened to Alex would be connected to her work, and Alex kept all her work files in that computer.

She throws herself into finding it. Find it, and she finds Alex.

For months, Kara follows every lead, every loose thread she can find, all in the hope of finding the computer. Every time she comes across a dead end, she doggedly retraces her steps until she can find another lead. The chalkboard in the kitchen that used to house her grocery list desk becomes a list of all possible locations. Her desk at Catco is a disaster of papers and post-it notes — a receipt from Cat’s dry cleaners here, the number for Annie Leibovitz’s assistant there, and Alex’s bank statements piled on top.

All the while, Cat watches her. Observes her tenacity, her ability to find patterns that no one else would’ve noticed, her keen attention that allows her to find details that other people would’ve ignored.

Finally, after nearly a year of looking, Kara finds Alex’s computer in a security deposit box under the alias Alice Liddell.

It takes her all night, but Kara manages to gain access to Alex’s documents. She finds file after file on Alex’s investigation into Jeremiah’s disappearance. Articles on similar disappearances all over the world. Some incidents are identical to Jeremiah’s, some with more of a trail. The victimology is all over the place, but in certain cases, there is a disturbing pattern.

A number of the disappearances occur in National City, and nearly all of them have one thing in common. They’ve all been patients or relatives of patients at the Luthor Family Hospital — a stroke patient and his fiancee, a woman in a car accident, a man with a gunshot wound, an old lady with Alzheimer's and her widow, even three children from the cancer ward and one of their mothers. Most of these people were deceased, but there must have been some reason Alex thought otherwise. And if she was right, then there is something very disturbing going on in the Luthor Family Hospital.

Kara keeps searching the files, and finds a certain devolution in Alex’s notes. Towards the end, she seemed more and more disorganized, her thoughts more and more disjointed. And Kara feels a terrible sense of guilt at not noticing what her sister was going through.

Throughout the files, she finds multiple references Alex made to something called the Matrix. She stumbles upon a mess of a pdf that she’d originally thought was gibberish, but upon closer inspection actually more closely resembles computer code. And in the middle of the unintelligible tangle of letters and symbols, she finds a question.

What is the Matrix?

Just as Kara is trying to make sense of the question, a new message alert appears in Alex’s inbox. Kara stares at the screen. It originated from Alex’s own email. Frowning, she clicks on the message, and her eyes widen as she reads.

I’m alive.

Kara springs forward so fast, she almost dislodges the laptop from her kitchen counter. She tries multiple times to reply to the message, but nothing happens. Kara growls, and almost as if the computer can sense her frustration, another message appears.

I’m alive and I’m out.

Kara’s brows furrow. What? What the hell?

The Matrix still has you, Kara.

Kara’s frown deepens and she looks around her, checks the computer. Is this some kind of prank?

I’m sorry I had to leave, but you can’t follow. Not until you’re ready.

Ready for what, Kara thinks.

Ready to give it all up. Ready to wake up. You told me once that you felt like everything since you woke up in the subway station has felt strange, like a dream. You were right, it is. And you’ll find me, if you’re ready to wake up.

Kara’s jaw drops in shock.

Follow the white rabbit.

The message flashes across the screen for a moment, then the monitor goes black. Kara snaps it shut and pushes it as far away from her as she can.

That — what was that? A-a trick? A hallucination brought on by the lack of sleep and her hyperfixation?

She could check it again, turn the laptop back on and click on the messages again — but suddenly Kara is gripped by fear, and denial feels more like a comfort.

She packs away the computer, stowing it under the desk where she can’t see it, and goes to bed. She doesn’t sleep until 3 AM.

But of course, Kara is no coward. She’s never been one to back down to her fears. In the morning, armed with a cup of Noonan’s coffee and a clearer mind, she opens the laptop again.

She doesn’t quite have the courage to check the messages yet, but she finds another article. This time, about the [head] of the Luthor Family Hospital, a woman named Lena Luthor.

It takes no time at all for her quick mind to make a connection, but it takes a while for the rest of her conscious brain to catch up.

Luthor. She’d heard that name before. In a voicemail, the only thing left of Jeremiah Danvers. “The Luthor girl got away again.”

Lena Luthor.

That can’t be a coincidence. Alex had been looking into their dad’s disappearance, and the Luthor name has already come up more than once, and now a female Luthor.

All the research she does on Lena Luthor comes up with next to nothing. Other than business articles and some papers in several scientific journals, there’s very little mention of the woman. So far, all Kara knows is that Lena Luthor is the CEO of one of the leading tech companies in the world, dedicated to providing accessible technology and communication devices to billions of people all over the globe — their new L-Phones are popping up everywhere. She’s also apparently a brilliant scientist and researcher, invested in scientific research to help prevent and cure diseases. She also owns and is directly involved in the running of the Luthor Family Hospital, a facility known for innovative and experimental medicine.

And for all of her work and accolades, there has never been a single photograph of this woman past the age of 6. Nothing. This woman’s image has never been recorded in any way, in any kind of media, in any event, in all the years that she has been running L-Corp. How is that even possible?

Now, Kara’s definitely suspicious.

Three days after the computer is found — plenty of time for thinking, but not too much time to do something stupid, she thinks — Cat makes her move.

She summons Kara to her office and delivers her ultimatum, in the form of an offer.

“Y- You think I have what it takes to be a reporter?”

“You’re an intelligent woman, Keira. But more than that, you can see things others can’t. You observe far more than people give you credit for. You could have a bright future here at Catco.”

Cat surveys her intently over her glasses. “It’s your choice. You can take the job, or you can keep wasting your life going down this rabbit hole.”

Cat gestures toward Kara’s messy desk, but again Kara’s quick mind gives her a nudge. That’s the third reference she’s heard in as many days. Rabbit hole. Alice. White rabbit.

Kara asks Cat for time to think about it, but really, she’s already made her decision. She uses her connect as Cat’s assistant to set up an appointment, introducing herself as Kara Danvers from Catco, writing an article about the Luthor Family Hospital.

The assistant confirms that Miss Luthor would be delighted to give Catco a glimpse into the facility to bring awareness of the work they do, and confirms the time.

When Kara arrives, she is directed to the children’s cancer center. When she sees the whimsical mural of a white rabbit hopping along a trail on the walls, she knows she’s at the right place.

Kara follows the mural until she reaches a room at the end of the hall. A soft feminine voice floats down the hallway and reaches Kara’s ears.

“To begin with, tell me, do you think that these men would have seen anything of themselves or of one another except the shadows cast from the fire on the wall of the cave that fronted them?

How could they, he said, if they were compelled to hold their heads unmoved through life?”

Kara walks closer, drawn to the sound. She stops just outside the door to what is clearly a child’s hospital room. A little girl in white pajamas and a colorful bonnet sits cross-legged in the middle of the bed, listening to the dark-haired woman sitting on the chair by her side. The woman’s back is turned to Kara, but she can see the book she’s reading from. Plato.

“By Zeus, I do not, said he.

Then in every way such prisoners would deem reality to be nothing else than the shadows of the artificial objects.”

“Quite inevitably.” The little girl on the bed quotes with a smile. Kara hears a soft, amused hum from the woman.

“Consider, then, what would be the manner of the release and healing from these bonds… When one was freed from his fetters and compelled to stand up suddenly and turn his head around… and lift up his eyes to the light, and in doing all this, felt pain…”

Kara sees the moment the reader realizes that she’s there. The woman’s head turns just the slightest, and Kara can see her sharp, elegant profile silhouetted in the light. She keeps reading, but at this point, they both know she’s aware of Kara’s presence. Kara continues to listen silently.

“What do you suppose would be his answer if someone told him that what he had seen before was all a cheat and an illusion… But that now, being nearer to reality and turned toward more real things, he saw more truly?”

Just then, the little girl’s eyes snap up to meet Kara’s, and big black eyes blink owlishly at her. “Miss Lena, we have a visitor.”

The woman finally turns, and Kara gets her first glimpse of Lena Luthor. Cut-glass green eyes are perceptive as they take Kara in, and a small smile plays on the corner of red lips.

“So we do, Zuri.”

She sets the book down on the bed beside the child and rises from her seat, a pale hand extended. "Kara Danvers, I presume?"

It takes Kara a second to reply, unable to take her eyes off the woman. There’s something arresting about her, something that could probably stop anyone in their tracks. Even the way she tips her head to survey Kara is fluid and mesmerizing.

Clearing her throat, Kara takes Lena Luthor’s proffered hand. “Yeah – uh, yes.”

The woman's smile grows. "I've been expecting you."

For a moment, the words make Kara's stomach flutter, then the 'duh' moment hits her. Of course she'd been expecting her, they had an appointment. Kara's face flushes red. "I've been looking forward to meeting you, Miss Luthor."

Green eyes gain a look of amusement and crinkle at the corners. Lena Luthor looks as if she has a secret, or like she’s in on a joke Kara doesn't know. "Not as much as I have, I'm sure."

Kara's brows furrow in confusion, but before she can ask the woman what she means, the Luthor bends down and kisses the top of the child's head, before heading out the door and gesturing for Kara to follow.

[[I just love the idea of Lena reading the Allegory of the Cave to the children like she did when she was a kid, as her way of preparing them, a way of telling them that yes, extraction will hurt, it won't be easy to accept the truth, but they will be free].

[Also in this AU, the extraction points used to be the pay phones like in the movie, except those got phased out once the machines figured out that’s what the resistance was using. So Lena developed the L-phones, and made it so one would always be easily accessible. That’s the work she does at L-Corp]]

After their tour of the hospital concludes, Lena watches Kara walk out through the double doors, throwing a friendly wave behind her. As soon as she's out of sight, she pulls out an L-phone.

"Well, she’s persistent, I'll give you that."

"Told you. Who do you think she got it from?”

“I see stubbornness runs in the family.” Lena hums in amusement.

A chuckle from the other end of the line. “You have no idea.”

"How close is she?"

Alex’s voice turns business-like. "Well, she’s made the connection to you, and Kelly’s seeing some sizeable fluctuations in the code, so I'd say she’s getting there. J’onn thinks she might be ready soon. He says she’s responding quickly for someone who hasn’t had as long to adjust. Sooner if you prepare her, probably.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

“Rhea,” Lena can hear the seething disdain Alex’s voice, and thinks her mentor is probably standing over Alex’s shoulder as they speak. “Would like me to remind you that the sooner we pull out my sister —“ Lena can almost see her glare at Rhea. “The sooner you can get back to the Daxam, and this can ‘all be over with’.”

Lena shakes her head. “I’m not pulling her out before she’s ready. The consequences could be disastrous.”

“Yeah? Try telling that to your Captain.”

They’re interrupted by an excited young voice. “Hi, Lena!”

“Mon-El?”

Alex snorts over the line. “Yeah, can you believe her? She brought the kid over just to get you to ‘speed things up’.”

“When are you coming back, Lena? I miss you! I snuck into the dock last week, but M’gann caught me. She said she’d teach me how to make shells if I promised not to go past the bridge again. And Imra asked if she could come with us the next time we go to the bridge to see the loaders, I told her yeah. That’s okay, right?”

Despite the seriousness of their situation, Lena can’t help but smile a bit at the young boy’s enthusiasm. “Of course she can. I’ll be back soon, Mon-El. Stay out of trouble, and do what your ranking officer says.”

“Okay, kid, you heard the lady. Go bother Brainy and Kelly at operations. It's about time you learn to read code anyway."

Lena can hear the boy grumbling in the background, but he obeys. As soon as he's out of earshot, Lena goes back to business.

“Start a trace for Kara's pod location, and standby. Be ready to plug in when I tell you to.”

"Copy. J’onn’s gonna try to get us as close as he can, but it's the fields. We can never be too careful. And Lena…? Try to make it easy for her."

Alex’s voice softens at her request, her concern for her sister evident in every word, and Lena understands. Just as Alex understands that there is nothing easy about the truth Kara will have to see.

"I'll do what I can."

This is not the last time Kara pays her a visit.

Under the guise of her article, Kara returns to Lena again. And again.

The first time she comes over under the guise of an interview, she stays until lunch. And then takes Lena to lunch, partly to make up for ruining her schedule, and partly because the CEO confesses that she often forgets to eat throughout the day.

They eat at Kara’s favorite lunch spot, Noonan’s, where Kara is aghast to learn that Lena has never tried any of their desserts despite the café being less than a block away from L-Corp. They end up trying nearly every dessert on the menu. Or at least Lena samples a little bit of everything, and Kara finishes it all off.

They part, with some reluctance on Kara’s end, three hours past Kara’s allotted time, but Lena assures her that it was worth clearing her schedule, considering how much she enjoyed Kara’s company.

It’s only after she’s no longer in Lena’s presence that Kara realizes she’d all but forgotten about her purpose for coming, which was to interrogate her about the suspicious disappearances at the Luthor Family Hospital, and about Lena’s possible involvement in Alex’s own disappearance.

She returns, this time with the flimsy excuse of bringing Lena lunch now that she knows the CEO won’t remember it herself. Lena suggests they go out to the nearby city park to enjoy her break there.

Lena leads her to a bench on a hill and they sit there quietly, enjoying their view of the park. Lena gives Kara a shy smile. “I like to come out here sometimes. When everything becomes… too much. Sometimes, everything around me just feels so wrong and… fake. Especially with what I do. It feels like none of it, none of this is real.”

Kara turns to look at her fully, a crinkle in her forehead, and Lena wonders if she's pushing it. “What do you mean?”

“Have you ever had that feeling where… you’re not sure if you’re dreaming or awake? And you’re not quite sure if anything around you is real or not?”

Lena chances a look at the other woman. Kara is looking back at her, eyes wide and intent. It takes a moment, one long moment where Kara is just staring at her, as if trying to puzzle her out. Then she nods.

“Yeah. All time.”

“That’s how I used to feel.” Lena holds her gaze, steady green meeting wondering blue. Kara is so close right now, so close that Lena could tell her. How easy it would be if Lena could convey the truth just by looking into Kara’s eyes. But she’s not ready yet. Lena drops her gaze with a soft laugh.

“I guess I was just thinking, if none of this is real, then none of my problems there would be real, either.” She gestures back at L-Corp with a wry smile.

Kara takes the bit, and her smile softens, blue gaze losing some of its intensity.

Kara fails her mission again that time. And the next. And the next. It feels as if she forgets her problems when she’s with Lena. For the first time in a long time, it doesn’t feel like she’s out of place. The world doesn’t feel so wrong when she’s with Lena, or at least, it doesn’t bother Kara as much. She feels like… herself.

As for Lena, she knows they’re running out of time, and that the agents will catch wind of them soon. Especially since Kara is on the precipice of the truth.

But for the first time, Lena finds herself delaying the inevitable. It’s unlike her — the Potential who has spent her whole life freeing as many minds from the Matrix as she can; the second-highest ranking officer and chief engineer of the Daxam, who seizes every situation with a level head and a calm command.

“What are you doing, Lena?”

Rhea’s voice is an imperious snap, even over the line. “You have never spent this long in the Matrix since I pulled you out. You’re putting yourself in danger for a simple extraction. It shouldn’t be taking this long.”

“No extraction is ever simple. I told you, she’s not ready.”

“I know you and that Oracle—” the word is practically a hiss in her mentor’s mouth. “—think that this woman is a Potential, but if she really were that special, she would’ve been ready a long time ago. You were ready long before I found you.”

“This is different—“

“Why? Because you’re sweet on her?”

Lena’s eyes narrow. “You know that’s not why.”

As soon as Lena’s tone gains an authoritative edge, Rhea softens. “I know, my dear. But you know how I worry about you being plugged in for so long with… Lex out there. Besides, you have been neglecting your duties on the ship. Your crew needs you, Mon-El needs you. Come back home, Lena.”

Lena relents. “I will. Soon.”

But ending her time with Kara is easier said than done.

It may be selfish, but around Kara, Lena feels lighter. Her responsibilities don’t weigh as much, and the bleakness of war vanishes in the company of someone so earnest and warm and hopeful. Kara is… resilient. In spite of all that she’s been through, she remains strong, determined, and most incredible of all, kind.

Lena watches Kara with the children — the youngest Potentials, who see the wrongness of the world around them, but aren’t ready yet to be pulled out — and watches her pull gap-toothed smiles and belly laughs out of even the most solemn ones.

She extends this kindness, even to Lena — over daily reminders to eat and take care of herself, to lunch dates she tags Lena along to because she thinks Lena will forget to eat otherwise.

Once, after a successful extraction of one of Lena’s children, a somber Kara brings a small bouquet of plumerias to the little girl’s empty room. She finds Lena sitting next to the child’s empty bed.

“I’m so sorry.” Kara plucks a single plumeria from the bouquet, before setting the flowers on the girl’s pillow.

Lena shakes her head, a serene smile on her face. “Don’t be. She’s free. She’s in a better place now.”

Kara, not understanding her words, gives her a sad smile. She takes Lena’s hand and presses the single plumeria into her fingers. “I’m sure she is.”

Every day, Lena fails to tell Kara the truth, wanting to prolong their time together. And most of all, wanting to spare Kara for just a little longer. Lena can’t bear the thought of being another person who adds to everything Kara’s gone through, of being the reason why that smile dims a little more, or worse, never appears again at all.

Her hesitation nearly costs them everything.

#supercorp #supergirl #katie mcgrath #lena luthor #melissa benoist #kara danvers #me trying to write #I've been working on this thing all weekend ugh. i just wanna yeet it out there #there's more if anyone wants it #also in case it’s not clear the kid at the end of the moodboard is young Mon-El #i should sleep. ugh. i so sleepy #i forgot brainy in the moodboard *facepalm #oh well too late to add himj #gotta sleep. gotta sleep #fuckin tumblr took away all my formatting ugh #alex danvers #cat grant #nia nal

[katia-dreamer]

Vex knocks on Percy’s door. “Percy?”

“Come in.”

As she steps into his office, she catches him hurriedly rolling up a piece of parchment and stuffing it into his desk. “Am I interrupting?”

“You? Never.”

“What are you up to?” she asks curiously as she walks toward him.

He smirks as he pushes his glasses up his nose. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”

“Now I’m even more curious.”

“You will have to wait,” Percy answers.

She sighs in playful defeat, “Fine. Keep your secrets.”

“I promise it will be worth it.”

“I’m sure it will be.”

She comes around the desk, and Percy turns his chair to face her. Instinctually, she reaches out and runs her fingers through his hair, brushing it back from his forehead. His face softens at her touch, and he looks at her like she's all he wants to see. Suddenly, she wants nothing more than to be close to him.

She carefully maneuvers herself down into his lap, and after a few moments of adjusting, her legs rest across his.

“Hello.”

“Hello.”

She leans into him, burying her face into the side of his neck. Where once he smelled of black powder, now he more often smells like parchment and ink. It suits him. He’s also not wearing his cravat, which allows her to feel all his skin, and since he shaved this morning, he’s soft and smooth.

They breathe together, and his fingers brush against her side, dancing an incomprehensible rhythm against her ribs. When she tilts her head up to kiss the curve of his jaw, Percy hums with contentment. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer, and she immediately relaxes into his embrace, soaking in his familiar warmth.

“Am I squishing you?” she whispers.

“Not at the moment.”

“That's good. Because I’m comfortable.”

“Well, I would hate to disturb you,” he laughs.

“I’ll move eventually,” she says. “Just give me a little longer?”

“Take your time, dear.” He kisses her temple, and she smiles.

#cr1 #cr fanfic #katie writes things #katie’s 1k #cr spoilers #perc’ahlia #this snuggle fic won by just a hair so I may post the name one too for funsies

[kmackatie]

Ooooh “thunderstorm” for the March prompts? 👀

thank you for the ask!

(ask me a march writing prompt)

surprisingly, I wrote this one before reading this prompt so uh, apparently storms were on the brain. this can be read as a continuation of the above!

He goes to turn away, but before he can, he's stopped by Essek's cool hand cupping his cheek. He stills, tilting his head for a moment in question before Essek kisses him, lips surprisingly warm as they press to his own. This never gets old, Caleb thinks as he sighs into it, still half asleep and feeling indulgent. His own hand comes up to cover Essek's, his arm slides in behind the silk robe until he can tug Essek in by it, and he deepens the kiss. He half expects Essek to pull away the way he does when he's distracted, but the moment stretches, even as the lightning flashes again and the thunder cracks. By all rights, the door should be closed--this is an incredibly stupid thing to do on a high-rise building--but there's something about it that builds, as if the electricity in the air has zapped directly into his veins, that tries to burn away the last vestiges of sleep that cling to his body. It's not wholly successful, as Caleb breaks the kiss to yawn again. "You should sleep," says Essek, kissing the corner of his mouth. "So should you," he manages in reply. "Aren't you cold?" For under the silk robe Essek is naked. He's not complaining, he can feel the lines of Essek's body against his own and they are warm where they press, but Essek is barely containing the slight tremors he always gets when he's cold. "I'll come in soon." Caleb yawns. "Promise?" "Yes. Go and sleep." "Love you." Essek smiles, then leans up to kiss his nose. "I know."

#maybe I'll try and link the next one in too #shadowgast #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #the mighty nein #critical role #cr: fanfic #fic: sleep with benefits #march writing prompts #ask katie #katie replies #quinn-of-aebradore

[chenziee]

A Comprehensive list of my outsider POVs or; a list of people who have Suffered™

NAMI - Good friends (don't) kiss + Revelations (we could do without)

PENGUIN - A Burst of colour (happy birthday)

SMOKER - Just a quick supply run

NPC - Boyfriends (do) kiss

LAW - See no evil (zosan)

BEPO - This is my BDSM dungeon

COBY - Not so bad

USOPP - The (s)we(e)t taste of revenge (lawlu, zosan)

KID - At the bottom of the sea

CAESAR - Minding his own evil business

SHACHI - Please don't ask + The Power of the revolutionary army top executive

ABSALOM - HIRED! (icepaulie), 'WHITE KNIGHT' CAVENDISH IN TROUBLE?! (bartocav)

PEDRO - Bringing dawn

SANJI - Princess Monster

YAMATO - Drastic Measures

BIG NEWS MORGANS - World Economic Journal: Grand Line Edition

ONIGIRI - Hopeless

ACE & SABO - Menace

KOTATSU - The Plight of the (not) house cat

NDA, WIP, planned:

NDA

Tate

Jinbe

Yamato

Sanji

NDA

Honorable mention: not in his POV but SENGOKU suffered the most hands down - Take out as in on a date, right?

#one piece #lawlu #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #luffy #monkey d luffy #opfanfic #lawlu fanfic #outsider pov #zosan #icepaulie #katie pretends to fic #everything is lawlu unless stated otherwise #i honestly thought i did more but then again #i do have a bunch planned and/or ready to go live.. #this post will be continually undated btw #three of the NDAs are gonna be revealed pretty soon too #which one is your favourite? #i have a soft spot for the until we drown series so At the Bottom of the sea is like. right there #but i have to admit i might like Take out as in on a date right? the most #tho it's not really outsider pov.. #so At the bottom of the sea or The sweet taste of revenge.. #tho i do like bringing dawn for different reasons #and Minding his own evil business was so much fun to write #ceasar is so slept on #he was a great crew pet #ahh idk #so glad i can finally say i can't decide which fic i love most instead of 'which one i hate the least' ahahaha

[icezansky]

the icemav brainworms have caught up to me again send me good vibes that i can write this fic idea in the next two days

#i've got two days off can i knock out a ~12k fic? in theory yes! in practice!!! WE'LL SEE!!! #but i've been writing too much angsty roosmav i need some good old fashioned icemav #i've said it before and i'll say it again: i go to other pairings for fun but if i go too long without writing icemav the brain parasites #get to me #katie text

[goldkirk]

I think I’m finally writing a story fam

#it’s not hymn or any od the others #it’s a new one that needs to come out first #or at least part of it does #it may or may not end up on ao3 it depends on if it Fucks Me Up like Latchkey did or not #and if it feels too weird or anything #I’m gonna give a disclaimer now that it’s an expression inspired by child grooming so if that’s a no go for you please be aware #I won’t be graphic but it’s me so it WILL be emotional I hope #and I do have good news on the other fics…can’t write hymn yet but the vibes are getting closer #and I can’t write freakin me out yet but I’m guaranteeed to have a medical hyperfixation again every year or two so that’s just a matter of #time. #but ghostbusters? accidental necromancer Tim drake? the vibes are creeping closer #they return for about two glorious minutes every 17 business days now #so stay tuned for that #katie writes things

[ewanmitchelll]

•Wait for me…•

Imagine it’s 1944, Aemond goes to war and he parts without knowing your feelings for him. What then?

Warnings: N/P= the name of the place of your choosing. Y/C= your college course.

Recommendations: “Wait For Me”, Kings of Leon. “Thinking of You” and “The One That Got Away” by Katy Perry.

***

The year is 1944. War is carrying further, leaving destructions everywhere, anywhere with little hopes of coming to an end. It has become part of the routine to turn the tv and see the images of bombs, armies marching against the other, scenes of extreme violence and sadness.

You, on the other hand, try to avoid watching. It’s bad enough to live in such scenario, worse to allow oneself to live with hopes. As you grow in your teenage years, you spend time with the Targaryen family in a small village located in N/P, United Kingdom. Though the big, white mansion is the summer house of that family, you more than often are seen around them.

And though everyone seems to think you and Helaena are the best of friends, it’s by Aemond’s side you are seen the most: whether riding a bike together, climbing trees or even studying.

You two know each other so well that even his mother once remarked:

“You know, Y/N. I’ve only seen Aemond smiling widely when he’s around you. Not even his family has earned such privilege.”

At which you blushed and appreciated the consideration. But even so the Targaryens are like your second family, so you feel free to be yourself around them.

So now you are getting close to celebrate your 20’s and you are about to get to university to study Y/C. Under a cork tree, right in front of the lake, you and Aemond are talking about it.

“So I want to become a y/c”, you tell him, placing your curls behind your ears, making sure not to have your hair a complete mess when you are around him, a sudden concern you try not to pay attention this much. “And after a lot of conversation with my father and my mother, they agreed! I thought they wouldn’t, but they did!”

Aemond, in turn, is surprised to find sadness upon such news. Yet, he masks well when occupying himself with lighting a cigarette.

“Does this mean you are leaving to US?”

“What? No. I wouldn’t dare to go that far”, you mumble shyly, looking down at your hands and missing the side, shy smile when he casts you a relieved glance. “You know I cannot afford crossing the ocean and establish myself.”

And yet, despite his selfishness, he finds himself saying:

“You know we could always help you. You are practically a family, Y/N.”

You smile at him and your heart skips a beat when he smiles too. Uh-oh. Oh you wish you haven’t noticed that when he is happy, your heart swoons as a result.

“I appreciate it, dear Aemond. But I wouldn’t ask you this. I.. I prefer to stay.”

“How come? There is so much you could do. I mean, I would go if I had the opportunity”, he grumbles.

You shoot him a hurt glare despite being aware that he has a complicated relationship with his father and his elder sister.

“What about me?”, you hear yourself saying and almost instantly you wish you had not opened your mouth.

But Aemond scoffs at you.

“I would take you with me, of course”, the Targaryen smiles gently when seeing you blush.

A pleasant sight to behold.

If only you knew, though…

“Well, we could always run away together despite the darkness this world has been plagued to.”

“I’d like that. Don’t see why not.”

“You are quiet today”, you remark, leaving your spot to join his side. “What’s been happening?”

Aemond sighs heavily. Looking at the horizon, he at first refuses to look at you, but you are patient. Very gently you put your hand over his shoulder and rub it.

As you wait, your eyes linger at his long silver hair, his long face with lilac eyes that often hid from others what you could easily perceive: his kindness, sense of duty, gentleness to others, loyalty to his family. Where people judged his pride, you’d find him reserved, preferring quiet occasions than lousy ones.

Oh damn it, Aemond. I think I’ve fallen for you.

The realization knocks your heart down, specially aware that you’d never be his type: he’d been in a long relationship with an older woman named Alice Rivers for about five years and the break up wasn’t easy—despite the evident relief in his family, who clearly disapproved the match.

So you remove your hand and look away, thoughtful, but nothing is yet to remain the same when Aemond, feeling the cold on the spot he appreciated the warmth of your touch, gives you the worst news you could expect.

“You know, Y/N. There is something I haven’t had the courage to tell you.” He hesitates.

You look at him, already distressed when he is careful with words—knowing Aemond is not, like when you witnessed him shouting at his older sister Rhaenyra for trying to teach him lessons about dating an older woman when she hooked up with her own uncle—, for something bad is happening. As you predict, it does.

“Yes? Aemond, darling, what is it?”

He cannot look you in the eyes when saying:

“I-I’m going to fight in the war.”

You don’t even realize you shout.

“WHAT?”

You don’t realize you start sobbing.

“W-WHY? No, Aemond! No!”

Aemond swallows his own tears before pulling you to an embrace, forbidding you to flee from his arms.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I…I was a coward”, he speaks softly to you. “I’m sorry, Y/Nickname. I really am. But I had no choice upon this matter.”

You cast him a hurtful look without parting the embrace, his arms so tight around you that even if you wanted to, you could not get away so easily. You hug him in return, not saying a word as you two stay like this for a long while.

You understand his motivations, but you blame yourself for expecting… What exactly were you expecting, though? That one day he’d find out you have feelings for him and suddenly you’d replace Mrs Rivers in his affections? That the war would never find you and part one from the other?

“What are you thinking? Please talk to me”, he begs you, cupping your face when looking for your eyes.

“I…”

There is so much you wish you could say. But believing to be far from reaching his heart, you are stuck with your words. What comes out of tongue disappoints Aemond, whose thoughts mirror yours.

“Why must you go? This is not your war to fight.”

“You know I cannot refuse. My father’s influence along my maternal grandfather’s managed to prevent my participation in the front.”

“I bet Aegon kept instigating you about it”, you remark with evident displeasure.

“He always sought glory and in many ways, distorted these might be, he is dutiful. He’s been sent to Germany, however, and so far it’s not been so bad.”

You shake your head.

“Come on Y/Nickname”, says Aemond rather anxiously. “I must do what is expected from me. Lots of men are doing so.”

Your eyes are full of protest, Aemond can tell they do, but your gentle nature softens it.

“As long as you come back to us whole, well and alive.”

Aemond gives a smile before taking your hands and kissing each, which makes you giggle.

“I promise you, Y/N. I promise you I’ll come back.”

And he is yet to say something—his impulsiveness seems to realize that he must profess how ardently he loves you before he goes to war—when Lord Otto, his grandfather, comes after you.

“So is it here your secret spot, children?”, the older male laughs away as you two instantly part from each other, and he finds quite absurd how you can’t see what is evident to everyone. “Well, I lament to intrude but Aemond, General Lannister is waiting for you. Apparently you are needed urgently. Your poor mother is already weeping.”

Lord Otto nods at you and there is little time to say anything. Aware how Aemond is colder in front of his relatives, you expect nothing but a quick goodbye. But Aemond hesitates. All he does, though, is look into your eyes, seeing something in them.

I wish I could investigate what there is in your y/c eyes, Y/N. I wonder if you feel the way I do… May God spare me and let me know if you when I come back.

Thoughts that do not, however, reach out for his tongue.

“Take care, Y/N. I’ll see you around.”

He knows… Aemond knows that, without waiting for your response, the moment he turns, you’ll weep. He is forced to swallow his own tears.

And he is right. You are left in silent tears, hating yourself for never telling how much he means to you.

***

A year later… Oxford University.

You don’t move on. You simply cannot, in spite of the appearances. In spite of dressing a long blue skirt and a red-white short sleeved shirt. In spite of putting those Mary Jane’s black shoes and carrying your notes everywhere. In spite of conceding dances to other gentlemen such as Mr Alex Velaryon.

But no gentlemen match your beloved Aemond, your best friend, whom you loved since you were a child. Who went to fight a war and never again you heard news from him.

Because you started to study y/c at Oxford University. Because the Targaryens never again came back to the village you were raised. Because war ruined your dreams.

Your hair is shorter, filled with curls in the manner of these days. You like the fashion. It helps making you feel alive—because part of you left with him.

He is not dead. I know in my heart, Aemond. I know you are alive.

But there are moments your heart is heavy with regret and remorse for never telling him how you feel. So you write this in your journal:

“I should’ve told you what you’ve meant to me. So now I pay the price. In another life, I would make you stay so I don’t have to say you were the one that got away.”

You, however, wait. Specially when news of the end of the war reach your ears. It’s a great relief and everyone is naturally overjoyed. Classes are ended before time and you are allowed to visit your family.

Unbeknownst to you, Aemond is on his way home. He has missed an eye during the conflict, but he is going back as a war hero. Despite the traumas he’s got to deal with, all he cares now is to find you.

Aemond too collects remorses. War has changed him, his perspectives...and mostly taught him that there might not be tomorrow. Losing an eye is nothing compared with the possibility of losing you.

"You are too quiet, Aemond", so says Aegon. "Are you seriously letting it affect you? If I survived this shit, so will you."

"Each to their own", grumbles Aemond. "You became a drunk man, Aegon. How does that make you feel better?"

Aegon pats his brother's shoulder and says:

"Each to their own", he repeats his words.

But they do share the relief of coming back home. By the time they are dropped at the Targaryen mansion, the brothers are surprised to find their father waiting for them next to their mother.

"My boys!", it's Alicent who runs in their direction.

It's a moment to count their blessings, indeed. Even Viserys leaves pride aside to acknowledge he hasn't been the best of parents. Reconciliation is a most prudent path to take, the first steps to heal old wounds.

But as much as Aemond wishes to take part of it, the urgences in his heart cannot wait any further. So he excuses himself from his family.

"My son!", exclaims Alicent in perplexity. "Where are you going to?"

Aegon smirks, but it's Helaena who responds:

"Oh, he is going to purchase his lady's heart at long last!"

***

You are twirling in your swing, finding the celebrations boring. You are not in the mood to tolerate your family, and their constant implications you are in the age of marriage. Your cousin even went as far as telling how he got over the first woman he fell in love.

Ugh. Their assumptions are so unwelcoming and out of place.

However, you do feel sad when considering the possibilities of your life had you told him how you felt.

Not to know makes difficult to move on.

Yet, every doubt dissipates and with it, the shadow of the reminiscent sadness when a very known voice is heard:

"I never thought I would find my lady in such a state."

When looking up, you find Aemond himself standing before you. He is dressed in his old uniform and there is a mix of anxiety and concern in his lilac eyes when staring at you.

Your heart races, but you hesitate.

“Is that a phantom that stands before me?”

He takes your hand, tears emerging in his eyes.

“Is this touch not real enough for you? Oh, madam, what other proof is enough to dissipate any doubts about my return?”

You promptly stand and hold him tight, all the whilst Aemond breathes in relief and lifts you in the air, spinning you around.

“I told you I would come back for you, silly head.”

You giggle amidst tears.

“It’s really you!”

“One eyed, indeed, but me!”

And words come out just like that.

“I love you all the same, Aemond.”

It’s when his face brightens that you notice what you said. And you pale at once.

“Y/N…”, Aemond smiles the brightest at your reaction. It’s so much better he’d ever conceived how it was gonna be. “What did you say?”

You untag yourself from his embrace, turning abruptly on your back, detesting to feel that old anxiety that plagued your teenage years about anything that was out of your league—and Aemond had always been one of those things, at least according to your judgement.

“I didn’t say anything.”

But he turns you at him, making you look at him.

“I heard you well. Why are you running away from me? I told you I would come back for you, didn’t I?”

You swallow hard, specially when he cups your cheeks and, caressing each, makes you look at him.

“I love you too, Y/Nickname. I’m sorry I took so long to admit it.”

“I thought you loved her”, you whisper, leaning into his touch.

“I thought it too, but when it comes to you… Good God. I was afraid you were married by now”, he says, afflicted.

You smile gently, placing your hands all over his chest.

“My heart has always been yours.”

“You waited for me”, Aemond smiles back.

“Of course I did. I will always wait for you.”

“As I will always come for you, my wife.”

You smile brightly.

“My husband.”

And so he pulls you for a kiss, sealing your destiny for good.

#ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #modern hotd #modern Aemond Targaryen #aemond targaryen x female reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond fic #house targaryen #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #world war 2 #wait for me #kings of Leon #thinking of you vibes #Katy Perry #got me wishing to write another version of this fic #notebook too #anyways lol

[aerodaltonimperial]

A few years ago, @wanderingcas jokingly suggested that I should start a Patreon and share writing tips. (Maybe it wasn't that much of a joke.) But I can't figure out, really, why anyone would want to take writing tips from someone who is this much of a failed author. And I wouldn't want to put it behind a pay wall, since what I really love is fanfic and I just want everyone to have a great time when writing and reading and feel good about the work they produce, because fanfic is such an awesome thing born out of love for a media. Sometimes I still think about it, though I don't know what I would really have to offer. I've picked up a lot through the years and I've had some great editors who have helped to mold my writing into something much stronger. I dunno. Thoughts this morning.

#what would anyone even want to hear about? lol #Katy's school for writers who want to know how to write good #and want to learn how to do other stuff good too #except i don't know how to do any of that stuff 🤣

[iskierka]

new theory. Star Trek TOS’s concept of Vulcan mates and bonding directly influenced the development of the matebonding trope in fan culture and was therefore instrumental in the development of the omegaverse

#im writing this down like this feels actually too obvious i think i may be behind #katie speaks #star trek

[softceleste]

The fact I honestly thought I'd pull off playing College Craze and being normal about it, and then less than a week later I've already played it multiple times, made a duel MC au, a Pinterest board, and recreated some of the PopMe pages, is genuinely not lost on me.

#college craze #katie talks ifs and vns #i made psds for new contacts and calls too but didn't really have a use for them in this #also i just bs'd vidtok if it pops up I'll redo those but >.> i think you can tell who my favorite RO is so far okay (it's Pierce) #and then jay shaun ruby and trish also have me by the throat like if Trish has 0 fans I'm dead okay #I've known those characters literally like 4 days and I'd go to bat for all five of them already ok - my beloveds #anyway madeline mostly follows canon (the divergence is Ches exists and Ches is canonly the one fake!dating Shaun for Mad's tuition) #otherwise what the vn throws at Madeline she gets ok and then Ches breaks canon... so much it'd be probably too long for the tags #but this is what i get for being like 'this oc I've been writing for a decade+ would be down so bad for Pierce and Shaun lemme do a #playthrough with her and see what happens' - this happens apparently 😂 listen the vn helped me get through the entire time my mom was #in the hospital (she's home now) so tbh it was a really appreciated distraction <3 #extremely long post #long post #edits:mine #college craze: ches #college craze: madeline #college craze: madeline x jay #college craze: ches x pierce #i had fun with these though like Madeline messaging Ches to ensure she isn’t going to come in and find Jay in the dorm #and Ches being like ‘yeah my vidtok is 100% Pierce’s fault’ yikes I need to sleep I’m excitedly tired rambling #sorry if this post is annoying (and for the lines under the categories breaking future me will fix that in further edits if I post more #those may be relegated to the shit post blog though we’ll see posting oc stuff makes me so anxious ngl) #im just hitting post I’ve been staring at this stressing it like two hours now jfc

[earlysummer1951]

i’m screaming

#lmao this show is too meta #barry hbo #elsie fisher #d'arcy carden #way to expose the mental gymnastics of an entire fandom in one fell swoop #emma barrie please write more episodes #also little katie is going to destroy barry and you know what? good for her

[didsomeonesayventus]

Hello engage and tarot fans, happy and pleased to make an official announcement (and preview) that I contributed to the supporting prose and writing for the Emblem of the Arcana!

This project was super fun to work on and I loved translating my love for tarot into my (slightly more recent LOL) love for the world of Elyos, and invite you to take a peek at all our excellent contributors!

#katie rambles #katie writes #fe17 #fe engage #hi hello gamers been waiting for my lil preview graphic here she isssssss #but yeah bounces up and down i wrote some bangers for this one #and there's some banger artists too #its ok if u cant preorder anything honestly spreading the word helps #but yeah extends hands. what i've been doing since about august

[katia-dreamer]

She finds Percy sitting in his favorite wide-backed armchair. There’s a cup of tea on the table in front of him, along with a pile of books. He is not reading but instead is writing intently in his sketchbook.

“There you are,” she says as she approaches. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Percy writes something else and then says, “Sorry. I’ve been distracted by this.”

“What is it?” She moves to his side so that she can steal a glance at the pages.

“It’s an idea I’ve been toying with.” He points to several sketches of what look to be lamps. “They will line the streets and be powered by the acid beneath Whitestone. I’m not sure it’s possible yet, but I figured a little more light couldn’t hurt.”

Vex finds herself speechless. She's always known what Percy was capable of, both the good and the bad. Yet sometimes, how his mind works still makes her marvel. “Percy, that is a wonderful idea. I love it.”

He looks up at her and smiles. His eyes are glittering with the familiar joy that creation always seemed to bring him. Before she can realize what is happening, he reaches forward and pulls her into his lap. The sketchbook is pressed awkwardly between them, so she grabs it and tosses it to the ground. Percy is now peppering her face with kisses, and because he has not shaved in a few days, she feels his stubble brushing against her skin.

“That tickles,” she attempts to complain, but the giggle that escapes her spoils the effect.

Percy huffs out a laugh as he trails kisses down her neck. His breath is warm against her skin, and oh, that feels nice. “Should I stop?”

“Don’t you dare.”

#katie writes things #cr1 #cr fanfic #perc'ahlia #cr spoilers #i do not post too much i do not post too much

[effervescentdragon]

A (extra?) scene from possibly Pirate AU Sequel (i still dk the name of the original much less the sequel my god) for @singsweetmelodies bcs of the terribly, horribly British conversation we've had 😹💖 thank you for being so inspiring 🥰

"I don't care for tea much," Pierre says, and Charles rolls his eyes at him, settling more comfortably in his lap.

"That is because you are a heathen, mon amour."

He pats Pierre on the cheek condescendingly, and watches his eyes narrow, just as he knew they would. "You drink coffee, which is just vile." He shudders. "Ugh, the taste."

Pierre grins. "You do not mind the taste of it when I -"

"Okay, lads, that is quite enough, thank you very much!"

Charles turns towards George, whose face has two bright red spots high on his cheekbones. Charles will never understand how, after everything they've gone through, George is still so terribly uptight about the matters of the flesh. Charles has lost most of his inhibitions around the first time Pierre fucked him so good, he couldn't remember his own name, and somehow never had the same sense of modesty again.

It is much more freeing, being like this. He prefers it greatly to how it was before. He leans down to press a soft kiss to Pierre's brow, and Pierre squeezes his waist in response. He also puts his hand on Charles' ass, grinning in satisfaction.

Charles adores him more than he thought was ever possible.

"You are so painfully British," Alex says from where he's leaning back on the double-seater, his shirt half-unbottoned, his legs stretched out before him. "You bloody colonizer."

Charles giggles just as George groans.

"Alex," he says, fiddling with the boiling kettle. "That joke is getting old."

"It's not a joke, Georgie, it's the most honest statement of fact." Alex catches Charles' eye and winks. "That exact tea you're making? Oolong? That was stolen by your colonizer ancestors from my country."

George turns to look at Alex incredulously, and Charles hears the muffled snort Pierre hides in the material of his shirt. He doesn't move his face away, and Charles feels goose-bumps on his skin by the delicious scratch of Pierre's beard right at his collarbone.

"You were literally born in Port --, Alex," he deadpans. Alex grins.

"Ah, Georgie, it's about the ancestry. You have taken everything from me, really." He pauses. "Including my heart."

George looks extremely flustered as he pours the water over tea-leaves and coffee beans. Alex is watching him with a rogue smile, and Charles is admittedly somewhat distracted by Pierre's soft kisses on his neck, contrasting with the roughness of his beard.

"Here you go," George says, bringing two mugs to Charles and Pierre. "And will you please cease molesting Charles in public, Pierre?"

"Why? Your delicate British sensibilities cannot take open expression of my love for Charles?" Pierre asks, but moves a bit away, careful not to spill the liquid. "How - what's that word he likes to use, cher?"

"Quaint." Charles supplies, keeping his face neutral. George, who knows him, rolls his eyes pointedly, then takes the other two mugs and kicks Alex's legs, handing him the coffee amd sitting next to him. "Merci, George."

"Yes, thank you Georgie," Alex says, and the blush on George's face gets even brighter. Pierre chuckles into his coffee.

They busy themselves with blowing on the hot coffees and teas for a moment, but Charles knows neither Pierre nor Alex are done with screwing with George.

"Do you not like tea at all, Alex?"

Charles hides a grin behind his mug, because the tone Pierre is using is the one he uses when he wants to deliberately provoke someone for fun. Also, everybody knows Pierre and Alex spent years with each other, living out of each other's pockets, and that the question is a deliberate bait.

"Why yes, I do like my ancestral drink, Pierre, thank you for asking," Alex replies, and George groans. "Do you like tea, which the British colonizers have taken from my country and spread through Europe?"

"Not really," Pierre says. "I prefer coffee."

"My favorite tea is jasmine," Charles chimes in the most innocent tone. "What about you, George?"

George is sat ramrod-straight, and Charles really wants to laugh at the tight expression on his face. He inhales sharply, then breathes out, his whole body sagging.

"Oolong," he says . "This one. Can we please drop it now?"

Alex ignores him completely, talking right over him, a huge grin on his face.

"Well my favorite tea is -"

He cuts himself off abruptly, and Charles sees his eyes widen in some realisation that, by his looks, is very unfavorable to him. Pierre notices the same thing, and he pauses, thinking. Then he looks at Alex and bursts out laughing.

"Oh, oh that is - that is - mon Dieu," he says through his laughter, and Charles feels how his whole body shakes and raises his own tea cup, so as not to get burnt as he's being bounced on Pierre's lap.

"What?" Him and George ask at the same time, glancing at each other.

"What, Pear?" Charles asks as Pierre's laughter dies down.

"Alex?" George asks, and Alex groans. "Love, what is it?"

"If you don't say it, I will," Pierre says with a grin.

Alex flips him off, the murmurs something into his cup.

"What?"

Alex turns to George, his face pained and a bit red.

"I said, my favorite tea is," he closes his eyes "Earl Grey."

There is a moment of silence in the room before George's face splits into a delighted grin.

"Alexander," he drawls, and Alex groans again. "How very - British of you."

Charles can't hold back his giggles anymore. Pierre's arm clamos around his waist, holding him steady, as Alex looks into George's pleased face.

"I will just escort myself out," Alex says pitifully.

"Why? It is good tea," Charles asks, a giggle escaping him. Alex narrows his eyes.

"It's the principle, Charles," he says. "I hate myself on principle."

"Well," Geirge says haughtily. "I think you have wonderful taste."

Alex looks at him, and George doesn't look away, even as his cheeks flush again.

"Well, I picked you, didn't I," Alex says, and his smile is soft. Charles can feel himself smile, too, when George nods, a bit awestruck. Alex leans in slowly, and Charles watches them kiss tenderly and feels only happiness for his sworn god-brother and friend.

"I knew you were an exhibitionist, darling, but a voyeur," Pierre says into his ear, and Charles shivers.

"Shut up, you asshole," he says back in soft French. "They are adorable."

"Mm, and so are you," Pierre says. "I like seeing you happy."

Charles looks st Pierre, and smiles.

"You make me happy."

Pierre's eyes shine, and when he leans in to kiss Charles, his kiss is searing hot and terribly soft at the same time.

Charles smiles, and kisses him back.

#im not checking this for mistakes im too tired #the firat thing i managed to write for this in a looong while #piarles #galex #pirate au i guess #the pirate au sequel #effervescentdragonwrites #my writing #katie tag ♡ #thank you for the inspiration friend 🥰 #also dont think about timelines too much hehe #f1 rpf