#none of these tags make sense unless you know my au

[silvantransthranduiltrash]

The real reason Ingwe, Elwe, and Finwe went to scope out valinor:

A prank they played on Lasgen: Gone Wrong

Lasgen: *absolutely murderous and hunting them down as we speak*

Finwe, Ingwe, and Elwe: *huddled up in a hidden corner, going over their options*

Finwe: suggestions?

Ingwe: i mean running away, obviously

Finwe: that’s where i was going with that-

Elwe: i’m cool with “running away” really

Finwe: and how far should we run away?

Elwe: quite a long way.

Finwe: and how soon?

Inwe: Now?

Finwe and Elwe: Now.

[finaleourconcert]

our composition book || jeong jaehyun social media au

who could have thought it would all start with a bunch of bad jokes?

'el señor de la noche' is a pub known in town for its very varied themed activities and parties, which can go from open mic/rap battle night to karaoke/concert night to evenings of dance practice for the elders to midnight dj sessions. and it is at this place where jeong jaehyun makes a reality of his frustrated childhood dream

pairing: jeong jaehyun x oc [fem]

genre: strangers (to acquaintances) to lovers, mutual pining, just two adults trying to get through their quarter-life crisis

status: ongoing!–

important: all of nct 127 (ot8) members are involved but none of them are idols per se, there will be written parts as well so the fic as a whole makes more sense, updates are probably going to be random and slow but i will try my best, don't mind timestamps unless stated

author's note: this is my first time posting on tumblr because i generally write on ao3 but i thought it could be fun trying a smau this time so you guys are going to have to bear with me lmao also keep in mind english isn't my first language so there could be unintentional grammar mistakes. oh and just in case someone needs to know: chapters with titles in cursive are (half) written.

au's title: our composition book by wild nothing

any feedback (specially comments) is well appreciated <3

ps: if anyone wants to be tagged, let me know in the comments!

—♡——♡——♡——♡——♡——♡——♡——♡——♡—

their profiles

friends profiles pt1 | friends profiles pt2 | friends profiles pt3

one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven | twelve | thirteen | fourteen | fifteen | sixteen | seventeen | eighteen | nineteen | twenty | twenty one | twenty two | twenty three | twenty four | twenty five | twenty six | twenty seven |

—♡—

other works

[callmehere-iwillappear]

20 Questions For Fic Writers

this has been sitting in my drafts for probably months and i actually don't remember who tagged me at this point sorry </3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

26

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

168,724

3. What fandoms do you write for?

currently just rise but i've had some other fandoms i've written for in the past

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

call me here (i will appear) Use Only For Intended Purpose The Idiot's Guide to Blindfold Chess new phone who dis because i fear i'm lost (and i cannot be found again) wow big surprise(/s) all of these are rise al;jfldksjfkd

5. Do you respond to comments?

i try to but uh </3 i am not very good at it

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

ummm. probably waiting for answers, wasting time bc even if u know the comfort and healing comes there very much isn't any in the fic itself so whoops </3 i am not good at hurt/no comfort so i don't. have a lot of fics that would really qualify

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

uuhhhhh ig fibonacci? most of my fics have relatively happy endings and. this is the one with the least angst overall so

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not yet thank god

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

i do not alfjdlkjfkdls

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

imma keep it real with you chief most of the crossovers that i've written are with other people's aus and idk if that counts

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of fingers crossed

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope

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

yeesssss? sorta? it's not like, on ao3 but i've done some collab crossover stuff with friends (see aforementioned crossover question)

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

god idk. i don't do a lot of shipping these days sorry </3 i have some ships i think are cute but i'm not like, into them enough to say they really qualify

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

i want to finish idiot's guide and cmh very very badly and i refuse to jinx it. idk abt npwd solely because of like the type of fic it is, idk if it'll ever be finished finished yk. like there'll always be more little scenes i can do

16. What are your writing strengths?

um. i've been told i'm good at character voice

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

sweats nervously

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

i don't really do it? i probably wouldn't unless it was like, just a couple words - i don't mind too much when other ppl do it bc i have a translation extension on my laptop but i don't have many options when i'm on my phone

19. First fandom you wrote for?

doctor who........ i was like. god idek. fifteen? maybe younger i straight up don't remember <- also none of this is on ao3 this was like, back in my ff.net days and i don't think i even remember my login lmao

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

hmm hm hm. okay. probably because i fear i'm lost. just bc like... idk i'm proud of how it turned out and i'm really . idk. happy with the reception it got. i'm happy it reached people who can relate to it. and it's short enough that there's not like, enough space for there to be parts where i just have to force myself to write stuff i'm not 100% happy with to fill in the gaps. if that makes sense

tagging: You

[luvly-writer]

“You are my Sunshine”

Part 24: Grounded and missing home

——————————————

Jason Todd x Latina! Reader

Social Media Au

Warnings: none

Status: Finished

Author’s note: at the end of chapter!

Tag list: @lorosette @milas-teapot @izukuisbaby @alecmores @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @unofficial-jaytodd-wife @graywrites5567 @addictedtothefictionalworld @randobeetlehouse

Series Masterlist:

——————————————-

It was just a casual night in with Nola, both of you bochincheando of the lives of your families…

“you remember my cousin Helena, right?”

Nola nods from the couch where she is sitting at

“Yeah, the one that used to do your nails?”

“Yeah, pues turns out the baby wasn’t her husband’s!”

“WHAT?!?! You’re fkn kidding!”

“Nope, no I am not, during the months that she had spent in Houston, she slept with another man and got pregnant”

���Shit, I told you the timeline didn’t make sense. How would she have gotten pregnant and by her husband who at the time was in Puerto Rico”

“I KNOW! so today I got off the phone with mami and you will never guess what she told me”

Nola sat up and looked at you, super intrigued “what?”

“They got a divorce and she’s going to marry her baby daddy! Even went to Ecuador to visit his family and everything!!”

“FUCK NO WAY!!!!”

“SIIIIIII! You know, I always told you that relationship was rocky since her ex husband already had kids and she wanted more”

“Oh shitttttt, are we invited?”

“OBVIOOOO! She is showing off the wedding preparations EVERYWHERE on social media! EVEN. THE. DRESS!”

“NOT THE DRESS! ISNT THAT BAD LUCK!?!?”

Before you could answer Nola, a knock was heard on the door

You stand up from your place on the floor, gently placing Garbanzo, who was in your lap, in the sofa and to see who it was, only to see Damian pouting with his arms crossed

“Damian, mi niño, what are you doing here? You didn’t send me a text you were coming. Does your father know you’re here?”

Damian was never going to admit it, but he absolutely ADORED you. You always had a nurturing and doting energy on you and he constantly felt safe around you. Sometimes people forget that as much as he can be a killing machine, he IS STILL A CHILD, and having a positive mother figure was so important to him. He looked down and said very softly, “father grounded me because I skipped school…”

You looked at the child warmly and opened your arms

Ah, now there was something that Damian would NEVER admit in his entire life. He fucking LOVED your hugs and taking advantage of the fact that it was only Nola and you, he went straight to your arms and let you pull him inside.

Nola was sitting upside down on the sofa and Garbanzo was sleeping next to her peacefully

YN led him to the living room and let him sit down

“Sup Damian” greeted Nola from the sofa, and placed her hand up for a high five to which he responded

A doting mother figure and cool aunt figure…he could get used to this

“Now Damian, why were you skipping school?” Asks YN sternly.

Nola sits up and says “Oh shit, want some water? Juice? Alcohol?” At the last thing, Yn glared at her, “What? Whatever helps soothe his sorrows.” Defends Nola, making Damian crack a small smile, he tells her water and she stands up to get it, leaving YN and Damian more privacy.

“I didn’t want to go” he says dryly, making you deadpan at him. He sighs softly and finaly confesses, “Before coming to Gotham, I was homeschooled-“ “-by your mother?” YN interrupts and Damian nods and continues, “you could say that my intellect is quite advanced therefore, me going to school is not necessary.”

At that YN, thinks for a while and responds, “You do know, your father is legally required to put you in school till you’re 18, unless it counts as neglect, right?” And Damian nods whilst rolling his eyes

“Yes, YN! But I don’t like being with the other kids, they don’t understand and it is so difficult to be around them and I just…didn’t want to go. Plus, he keeps on saying that he knows my intellect is above Gotham Academy, but that I need to work on my social skills and have extracurriculars. He signed me up for fencing and I’m already the best there and it hasn’t been a week!”

YN hums understanding the problem. Although she has always been friendly, there was a time when…shit went down at home, that she closed off and spent a few years being super shy, so she understands the struggle.

“And is there an extracurricular you’d like?” She asks, “maybe something that might give you an opening to socialize at your pace?”

Damian looks at her and mumbles, “I like art and there is a art club in school, I’ve checked..”

At that, YN claps her hands, “There we go! Why don’t you tell your father about that? I’m sure if you explain how you feel…” she stopped for a second, seeing Damian get visibly uncomfortable at having to explain his feelings to his father, so she decided to rephrase so it fits their dynamic better, “I’m sure that if you negotiate with him, it will be fine”

At that, Damian relaxed and contemplated the outcome. Finally, he nodded and promised to do it once he got home. Knowing things probably aren’t the best at the moment, YN asks him, “Nola and I were gossiping about some interesting things of my family and later I was going to cook some rice, beans and chicken, Puertorrican style, wanna join?”

Damian had never tried her food so he nodded and saw that Nola had come back with a water bottle. She tossed it at him and he easily caught it.

“Now, let me catch you up Damian, with most of my family’s stories, get comfortable cause it’s going to be QUITE the ride” says YN and Nola laughs and adds, “you are going to LOVE this, kid”

And for once that day, Damian sat back, relaxed, laughed at Yn’s storytelling. At some point, they migrated towards the kitchen, YN still sharing stories about her family and all the summers she would go back to PR and Nola providing some stories about her childhood as well and growing up in an Asian household. They had laughed whilst YN cooked and finally sat down for dinner. Damian tried to also share some stories of the adventures his sibling have had over the years (very mindful to only include the ones that happened to them as civilians, he knew Jason hadn’t said a single thing of the whole vigilante ordeal yet) and it made the girls die of laughter. Nola, because she had blackmail material for Jason (please for the love of everything, for Jason’s sanity KEEP HER AWAY FROM STEPH AND TIM, dangerous trio that is!) and YN, because she felt even closer to her boyfriend’s family. As much as he liked to act all tough and cold, she knew that he still had a SUPER big soft spot for them. She didn’t know what caused the rift but she knew it was bad. Yet, any time he spoke about them, he had this huge tenderness in his tone, one that spoke of a love so cautious of being hurt again. He’d do anything for them (he’d complain a little, but he’d be there).

YN didn’t have siblings, the closest thing being Nola and some cousins, so having them enter her life, surely filled her life with joy. And being with a family so huge sometimes, it made her heart yearn for hers all the way across the sea.

Sometime soon, Nola invited Damian to play Mario Kart in the living room and YN was left to wash the dishes. She thought of her family even more. Her mother and her had moved to Gotham when she was barely eleven. The move was hard and it came shortly after her parents divorce. She remembers being new to the city and crying most nights because she missed the song of the coquis, the warmth of the summer, and the sky filled with stars. Sure, Gotham was in the coast and had beaches, beaches where she had gone a few times with her friends through middle school, high school and college. Yet, none of them compared to the beaches of her home. She would fly over there during the summers with her mom and oh boy, did she adore it! Her family gatherings were great. Blasting salsa, bachata, merengue (her personal favorite being salsa), they were filled with the laughter of all her cousins and tíos and tias and her grandparents and even the neighbors. They would have a barbecue on the beach, and days in the Morro flying kites, they would have road-trips along the island and see all of the beautiful sites of her home. She remembers the time Nola went with her, her family decided to go to El Junque and she remembers that it had rained a few days before so naturally, they couldn’t swim in the rivers but they still could walk around. Nola’s shoe got stuck in the mud and she fell making YN laugh so hard, she tripped and fell as well. Both girls ended up covered in mud because of how hard they were laughing. She still has the picture her uncle took of both of them on the floor, covered in mud, smiling brightly at the camera.

So lost in her thoughts, YN didn’t notice Jason come to the apartment. He glanced at Damian arguing with Nola claiming she cheated and insisted a rematch. One that Nola was glad to give him. He chuckled and looked around for his girlfriend, finding her spaced out staring at her bubble filled hands. He furrows his eyebrows and decided to hug her waist from behind, leaving a kiss in her shoulder. He feels her jump slightly, snapping out of her thoughts.

“Jay! You scared me”

He laughs lightly and answers “now what has you so lost in your pretty head that you didn’t see me coming?”

She finishes the last dish, dries her hands and turns around, pecking his lips.

“Nothing much, mi corazón” she smiles up at him and he notices, her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Now come on, my light, you know better than to lie to me like that” he says softly, his worry slightly increasing.

“I’m just a little homesick…I miss my family, and my mom”

Ahhhhh yes, you mom had moved back to PR on Yn’s third year of college to help her uncle take care of her grandmother

“Oh baby, come here” Jason pulls her closer to him and holds her tight. They are interrupted by a knock on the door.

YN walks to it and opens the door, only to find Bruce Wayne tiredly rubbing his hands on his face.

“Please tell me Damian is here. He won’t answer his calls or anything” he says and the girl laughs a little. Poor man, his children quite literally stress the fuck out of him.

“Damian! Your dad is here” she calls out and he comes out of the living room, with a small pout.

“Yang, YN. Thank you for having me.” He says barely acknowledging his brother and his father. You smile at him.

“Anytime, mi pajarito. And when you aren’t grounded anymore, tell me so that I can take you for another day at the Sactuary, they say Tantan the orangutan misses you”

At that, Damian smiles, nods and walks to the car, leaving his brother and father baffled. Bruce was convinced you were a mythic being of some sort, Jason was just too flabbergasted to function.

You wave at both, wishing them a good night for them to get home safe. Once you turn around, you see your o so lovable boyfriend, stuffing his mouth with the food that you had left for him, in pure bliss.

“This is the best thing ever, my love” he says after he swallows almost in tears

“I KNOW RIGHT! AND JUST YOU WAIT UNTIL YOU EAT SOME OF HER MOM’S AND GRANDMA’S FOOD! IT IS TO DIE FOR JASON! TO! DIE! FOR!” Nola screams from the living room.

You laugh a little shaking your head, the sad thoughts slipping away little by little.

——————————————

Author’s note: Little by littleeee you get that YN lore 😈 but in all seriousness, something I don’t see much in x Latina stories much is the yearning from home. Yes, I am a person currently living in my country, PR, but I have absolutely no doubt that it is something that happens to so many other Latinos who have migrated so I hope to show that part. Another thing is that I have noticed that in many cases, Latino culture is more family oriented than US culture, something that I also wanted to write in and represent through her yearning to spend time with her family and being at the moment, the only one away from home. Hope you enjoyed this! Lots of love!

-your writer!

<3

[eclipsewxtch]

Lmao I feel so fucking funny for asking this (Im so high that ill regret this when I sober up liter)

If you wrote any of your fics with the whole a/b/o dynamics (yk like alpha,beta,omega) what would it be like????

well i’ve alr written A/B/O fics it’s just when i completed them, i orphaned them. i just. don’t bring it up.

also? i’m assuming u mean just the tbp fics(?) because i have a legit werewolf fic but that’s not exactly the same deal.

in which case the probably the normal-ish a/b/o verse and i mean normal by like. a well-adjusted human’s standards not the porn ones.

• heats/ruts range anywhere from mildly uncomfortable and unpleasant to incredibly intense and painful, depending on the person.

• suppressants are only obtainable for different sub-genders with a doctor’s permission as suppressants can cause a wide range of symptoms depending on brand and you ‘need’ a valid reason for it. depending on if i feel like making it reflect the real world and have like. prejudice against women/omegas—its hard for omegas to obtain them without valid reasoning unless they are in a public highschool or a position where NOT having suppressants would be inappropriate for others around them

• scent-patches are so so so much easier to get; you can get them in a store for like five bucks or get a free one at a clinic.

• pregnancy… i HATE hate hate having to say this but DEPENDING on my mood this goes several different ways: 1) you present at a mid-late teen range and your body physically starts to change (which is painful and horrific) to accommodate your sub-gender aka growing ovaries, a reproductive system made for carrying babies, developing sperm to impregnate, etc; 2) everyone is intersex and after presenting either your ovaries stop producing eggs or sperm is no longer viable; 3) you just. know at birth. and it’s a waiting game for when someone gets a heat or a rut. like u alr KNOW but scents have come in and it’s like a ticking time bomb of “when?” and not what.

• i don’t want to think of a girl suddenly developing a penis, magically, after presenting as an alpha. not only have i spent years avoiding that tag but i refuse to think about it—i feel like not only would it cause gender dysphoria but it would be jarring. for the sake of this AU let’s just say it’s whatever you want it to be. girl develops penis randomly and starts wanting to bite things? christmas miracle. boy develops vagina randomly in the middle of class two days after presenting? none of my business. for fantasy purposes i like to imagine you can choose. like a video game.

• while i think it makes sense for there to be more betas than alphas/omegas, i really do think, (mostly in the context of my personal opinion if this is somewhat emulating the real world) it makes sense for there to have been way more alphas and a slow decline of them and betas/omegas start to increase while alphas slowly decrease in population. (like how in america white people made up most of the population after the genocide of native americans, even with bringing in slaves and various other races/nationalities coming in; nowadays white populations are declining)

• male omegas aren’t really rarities? it’s normal. that being said i think homophobia or transphobia in an a/b/o fic is stupid like?? in relation to main genders it’s rlly rlly stupid😭 i don’t know how a trans-sub gender rlly works(?) never read that trope but ive heard of it(?) i assume it’s not bad so lets say that exists too.

• betas can scent/smell scents and aren’t regulated to the whole ‘calm, peace keeper’ they just don’t register as an immediate threat and that’s it. the lack of truly noticeable scent from them at first glance is what makes them calming, nothing else. can often be leaders or in leader-positions.

• alphas are more likely to be aggressive but are overtly more. protective(?) definitely not outright angry and intolerable but per humanity there’s obviously terrible alphas, and good ones. most of the world has alpha-dominated spaces.

• omegas naturally are incredibly fertile and typically speaking it is very rare for them to NOT get pregnant. absolutely not weak and thin and curvy and all that shit because why can’t omegas have muscles and different body types🤨 why do you want omegas to be overtly feminine so bad🤨 i’m looking at you, weird bnha soft boy/uwu izuku people… you guys are Odd. some omegas are short but that’s just. some. the only thing i can think of is like? wide hips? but that’s just bc genetically wide hips/gynecoid pelvis is great for giving birth.

all genders have a wide range of scents. oh! speaking of:

• scents change depending on person. not every person smells the same person you do in the same way. there will always be key differences.

OR many people have the same scent as each other. regardless of family relation or not. there’s only so many scents in the world, obviously there will be crossover. scents also change as you grow. maybe soft/milk-like as a child, a faint smell of whatever you present as that grows in intensity as you get older. or the opposite, intense from your late teens to early-thirties (prime child-bearing years) and then decreasing in intensity after that.

but i prefer the first option makes sense that depending on compatibility you smell a certain scent. like amortentia from harry potter! you don’t necessarily smell the scent of the person you’re attracted to but rather a different variety or a pleasant mixture of smells that attract you/you like. like lavender and honey and rain. things like that!

• claiming bites are temporary and last for almost a year depending on placement and how deep it was. can/can not be romantic, but usually romantic. not frowned upon because it’s common in teen relationships. kinda like a promise ring(?) but one that fades and can be renewed. doesn’t leave a scar either.

• mating bites are mostly romantic. typically on shoulder for visibility although there is evidence of many doing it around the lower arms which is frowned upon because its way more dangerous to do a deep bite in the wrist with all those important veins versus a shoulder with much more flesh/less nerve endings. neck is traditional but like. really old school.

• that command thing alphas do? hate that shit. OMEGAS hate that shit. BETAS hate that shit. it’s seen as one of those icks that a good portion of people hate even if many betas or alphas or omegas don’t see it as bad. but I DO therefore all rational characters i write will too. like?? fdym you can COMMAND ME TO DO ANYTHING AND I HAVE TO LISTEN??? you are Out of your goddamn mind.

• purrs and chirps and allat? i think that’s cute asf and i’m keeping it with an add-on that betas do it too and it’s a comfort thing. shit is adorable.

i’ve never written these in-depth a/b/o verse ideas before but none of these ideas are like. original. i’m sure if you search blindly you’ll find like 1k fics that include all of the above requirements/HC/tropes.

[cuillere]

Thanks so much @trainofcommand <3 You keep tagging me in stuff and it's always a warm feeling for me to receive the mention <3

How many works do you have on AO3?

34

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

38,025

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently, none. If I was to write some now, It'd be Detroit : Become Human or Stargate. the fandoms I have most written and published for are Star Wars and Dragon age :)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Wings, which is very surprising since I wrote it for a small fandom fest (Van Helsing - 2004)! I really didn't expect to regularly get more reading from this one :) Is that Blood? A kylux short I wrote as part of a challenge. Found myself reading through it again and I love it :)

A long Mission, another kylux short, with a hangry Ren and Hux knows him too well.

Hux and another. This one made my eyes water as I read through it again!

Promise my only published work for Stargate !!! Mcshep <3

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do, unless people specify they don't want me to. I might take some time 'cause I don't always be available, but I will answer :) I feel like it's a way for the reader to be sure that I've read their comments and enjoyed them :) That they have warmed my heart with their words just as I did theirs :)

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

mm, that's a hard one. Hux, mentioned above is definitely a contender! but also What's the matter? I thought you wanted it for Teen Wolf!

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

Uh, that's quite hard to say, too! Since my fics are usually quite short, and most of them are just happy or sexy scenes...

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I have never gotten hate on my fics, luckily :)

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

I thought I did, but AO3 says I don't ^^ What's sure is that I have som in my (numerous) wips. But also I don't write a lot and smut is rarerly my priority, so I guess it makes sense ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I don't think I ever did, though I do read them sometimes :)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Neither. Though I have been thinking of some fics I'd like available in both english and french

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Nope.

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

Well, I tend to hyperfocus and to change topics of interest every few months / years. I can't think of anything that has been my all-time favourite.

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

I have a few of those. One about Jack and Daniel (Stargate) for a soumate AU (which I don't think I've ever done, ever) is on my mind right now, but also an even bigger project for Les lames du Cardinal (which only have one fic, and that fic has 7 hits^^). I don't know If I'll ever take the time to really go through all of the editing, since the first draft is finished... It's from a ttrpg game we did with friends that I enjoyed a lot. Thing is during editing I realized I'd like to change... a lot of things. So maybe it'll neevr happen. it's also in French for the moment.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I am weirdly drawn to writing angst, even though I'd rather read happy stories. I think I'm quite good at descriptions and feelings.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogues and length. Dialogues are often a pain for me. I don't mind shorter fics, but when I have an idea that requires a longer fic, it never quite pays off. I've had multiple bad experiences that ended up scarring me and even though I still wanna make some, I'm very scared about them and the amount of work they require.

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

I don't think I've ever done it. It can get really messy for some readers, so I'd probably only do it if the dialogue can disappear from the fic and it's not too much of a problem. I think if a pov characters understands it, then the reader has to understand it. If the pov character doesn't, then I'll definitely tend to mention they talk another language, see if there are words or intention that can through, and probably avoid the actual dialogue altogether ^^

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

I already mentioned I don't have favourites ^^ I guess the one that has surprised me the most is Wings, because really the prompt Spoke to me so much and I'm quite proud of what I did and of the end result.

As always, feel free to feel tagged :) My thoughts go to @sunwarmed-ash @cyberbullyingandroids @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

[inaconstantstateofchange]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

thank you @hereforanepilogue for the tag!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 2!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? about 19k

3. What fandoms do you write for? baldur's gate 3

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

finirà bene [been posted longer]

hold me (like a knife) [literally posted today 😅]

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? i try to! i love talking about my thoughts and plans for the story and the background brainstorming that goes into it

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? i don't know if it's applicable because i'm incapable of writing actual angsty endings? angst, absolutely, but I can't end it that way. the closest would probably be the WIP oneshot i have exploring raphael and haarlep's dynamic? and that's less angsty ending and more just... The Way Devils Are™ y'know

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? currently it would be hold me (like a knife). the characters are still working for their happy ending in finirà bene.

8. Do you get hate on fics? not yet, but i don't get much interaction on them in general, so that mostly makes sense

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? i do! the more unusual and inhuman the better, usually. i love exploring what the lived experience of someone not standard-human would be.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? not yet!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? certainly not to my knowledge

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? no afaik

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? not unless mutual brainstorming over an unhinged wrestling!au counts

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? probably shen qingqiu/luo binghe from svsss, with a possible addendum of shen qingqiu/luo binghe/liu qingge

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? none so far! everything i want to finish right now i still very much have motivation to complete. finirà bene is going to take the longest just for its length, but so far i've been able to keep at it.

16. What are your writing strengths? from my own perspective and feedback i've received, i feel like i'm pretty strong in my descriptions and dialogue/characterization. those are two things that i used to consider my primary weaknesses so it's nice to be able to see them now as my strengths.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? i resist splitting sentences as long as i can. like are they technically correct? yes. should i please give the narrator a single moment to catch their breath? also yes.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? hmm... i don't foresee a lot of cause for it? so i'm not opposed theoretically but i can't really see it happening

19. First fandom you wrote for? that i posted anywhere, naruto. that i just wrote longhand for me and my one friend in middle school, twilight and/or harry potter.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? hold me (like a knife), by a slim margin. it is so self-indulgent and everything i wanted to read myself, and the fulfillment of a scene that's been in my mind for months, since playing through bg3 the first time. i also took it from an unedited 4.5k to a fully-edited 10.5k words in a fever-dream of a long weekend, which is an absolutely unprecedented accomplishment for me.

tagging @selkie-of-sule-skerry, @edda-grenade, and @childofyuggoth, as well as anyone else who wants to participate!

[hydr0phius]

Thanks for the tag @hovercraft79 !

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 29 works as of 17/04/2024. Could possibly have another one ready soon 👀

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

I've written 199,256 words (posted) in the last 7 ish years.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Star Wars (mostly the Thrawn trilogies), The Worst Witch (1998, 2017) Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (2018), Marvel, and Doctor Who.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Loki: The Rewrite, Grievance (Fanart), 101 Ways to Make a Salad, Stay, and Wrath of the Manda'lor

Most of those were posted in 2020, and in Loki's case, 2021.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do respond to comments! It's basic fandom interaction and I love screeching about fics with other people lol. As long as you don't just comment "update now" or something along those lines in a rude way on a fic that's been on the backburner for a wee bit, you won't get a smartass answer :)

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

Uhhhhhh, I don't know. It's probably all the Whumptober fics I've done though tbh. I meant to do one for 2023 but I'm still working on that because it's an AU and I wanted to do more than just torture my little guys.

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

Knight In Shining Pink was pretty happy at the end.

8. Do you get hate on fic?

Not really.

9. Do you write smut?

Haven't posted any, 👀 but it is in my drafts...

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Do I write crossovers? That feels like all I write, so I'll list my favourites:

The Admiral's Witch (Most recent: Worst Witch/Star Wars)

It Looked Alright In the Pictures (Last fic of 2023: Worst Witch/Star Wars)

Shadows On The Night (Worst Witch/Star Wars crossover)

Puppets of Fate (MCU/Star Wars: currently undergoing a rewrite)

As you can see, I like putting TWW17 & 98 characters in certain situations with certain SW characters.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nah. Feel free to though. Just make sure you give me credit and link to the original fic.

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

Yea, a few. Loki: The Rewrite is the first that comes to mind.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Don't do this to meeee. I'm going to say Obitine (Obi-Wan/Satine) for now bc they popped into my head first.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

Puppets of Fate is going to take me another four years just to get four chapters rewritten at this rate, and I Think My Neighbour's A Witch will probably be the same tbh. I'd rather be happy with what I've written and take yonks than do a rush job without much thought and never be able to sleep at night. Normal things and reactions to that situation... (probably not normal tbh).

16. What are your writing strengths?

Action, I'd say. And whump.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Finishing my wips...also having really long winded sentences. They make sense to me and I do try to chop em down during editing but I also miss a few lol.

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

I've sprinkled Cheunh into my fics where appropriate, so I'd say go for it. Having translations in the notes or making it obvious what's being said in the scene helps a lot though. It sucks reading big passages of something you don't know and then not knowing what any of it means unless you whip the translator out or there's notes.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Tinkerbell. None of those have ever made it to AO3 though and they're shoved to the bottom of my wardrobe in the spiral bound books that 12 yr old me wrote them in.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Eldritch Horror Cackles Academy AU where the castle is alive and hungry. It's unposted and only has three chapters written so far, but love it. It's truly something lmao. I think I had a sketch on this hellsite somewhere that was kind of a teaser for it.

Tagging (no pressure): @wayward-thrawn @empress-violetlight @heathtrash @lorrainestea & anyone else who wants to play :3

Questions to respond to below the cut!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

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

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

8. Do you get hate on fic?

9. Do you write smut?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

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

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

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

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Writer Asks

I love doing these! They hardly ever come around anymore and I miss these. Thank you @bitchbrisket for sending this my way.

How many works do you have on AO3?

36

What’s your total AO3 word count?

664,309

What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly The Worst Witch 2017, but there’s also a couple of Bletchley Circle fics on there, as well as an unpublished Xena and a Rosemary and Thyme wip.

What are your top five fics by kudos?

Divine

Into the Great Wide Open

One Thing Leads to Another

Ghost

Winter Song

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to always comment. Comments are a gift and I want to recognize the time someone took tell me they liked my work. Plus, I love talking about writing and stories and all that.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Life has enough angst already, I don’t need to add to it with my fics. I much prefer a happy ending. That said, since I’ve left everyone hanging on Stella Caeli for 6 months (I’m so sorry!) and it’s at a disaster cliffhanger, it would be that. I am almost done with the next installment, though, so hopefully soon it won’t be angsty either.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Maybe Divine? That’s the last part of Hecate’s Summer Playlist. Either that or An Uncertain Spring

Do you get hate on fic?

I haven’t yet.

Do you write smut?

It probably comes as a surprise to most of my readers, but yes. Just not in any of the stuff I’ve written for TWW or posted on AO3

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not really, though I do enjoy letting Rosemary and Thyme make a cameo every now and then. I’m not against them, just haven’t done it.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t think so.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I’m aware.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but Sparky probably deserves a co-writing credit for all of the work she’s put in to my fics.

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

This is a toughie. Certainly, Hecate Hardbroom and Pippa Pentangle – or Hecate and Ada Cackle – or Hecate and Julie Hubble. Honorable mentions include Jean McBride and Millie Harcourt, Xena and Gabrielle, Jenny Flint and Madame Vastra, Rosemary and Thyme, Lady Hardcastle and Flo, SuperCorp, Laventon and Cyllene… The list really could go on.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

Probably my first fic – a massive crossover with characters from everywhere, a healthy dose of Mary Sue-manship, a bizarre premise that turned out to be not so bizarre when six months or a year after I started it, Galaxy Quest sort of had the main plot point.

What are your writing strengths?

I feel like dialogue is what I do best, followed by plotting.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Action sequences. They feel very stilted to me.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Sure, write it. I've had bilingual characters.

First fandom you wrote for?

Not counting that first atrocity, Xena and Gabrielle – though technically it’s a Mel & Janice one.

Favourite fic you’ve written?

That is like picking a favorite child, isn’t it? Well, I shan’t be in denial about it. Hecate’s Summer Playlist holds a special place in my heart, closely followed by An Uncertain Spring and All Roads Lead to Home.

If you'd like to play, I'll tag @emiline-northeto @curlywitch14 @hydr0phius @cassiopeiasara and anyone else who'd like to join in.

Questions to respond to:

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

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

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

8. Do you get hate on fic?

9. Do you write smut?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

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

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

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

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

[kazewhara]

good morning, sunshine.

# — pairing: kazuha x gn!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, kazuha

# — summary: a morning spent in kazuha's arms is a morning well spent.

# — warnings: none

# — tags: modern au, fluff

# — notes: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while, so i figured i may as well finish it up and post it. i tend to stay up very late or wake up obscenely early, so this is pretty self-indulgent. as always, reblogs are appreciated and i hope you enjoy <3

# — song(s): bruno major ; nothing

✧ — 🍁 — ✧

you can tell that today is going to be a lazy day as soon as you wake up.

normally, kazuha is up before the sun, aimlessly wandering about your shared apartment or sitting on the balcony until you wake. but when you open your eyes, roused by the sunlight spilling through your window, you find that your body is a little warmer than you're used to. there's an arm draped over your waist along with the blankets. you smile sleepily, raising a hand to touch your sleeping lover.

kazuha's breaths come in quiet, the slow, silent rise and fall of his shoulders nearly convincing you to do the same. his platinum blonde hair is free of its usual ponytail and somewhat covering his eyes. when you move to brush it out of his face, you hear kazuha take a deep breath through his nose. scarlet eyes flutter open.

"good morning, starlight," kazuha greets you with faint smile. even when half-awake, he looks so serene and gentle. you once thought it frustrating how he never seemed to look disgruntled by anything, not even being woken up before he was ready. kazuha pulls you in a little closer by your waist. "did i scare you?" he asks, amusement lacing his tone.

you hum, still too tired to comment on his alertness. he must have been awake for a while. you drop your hand and shimmy closer to him, hugging him back. you press your face against kazuha, relishing in the way his chest rumbles when he chuckles. "how long were you up?" you ask.

"no longer than a moment."

you don't believe him, so you say nothing. he picks up on your silence and sighs.

"alright, alright," he concedes, "it's been a few hours, i think. i woke at dawn."

of course he did. you're not surprised. you sometimes wish you could wake up with him to see how he glows in the morning sun, but realistically, you would never be up that early unless you stay up all night. you press a gentle kiss to kazuha's collarbone and he sighs. "what d'you wanna do today?"

it's kazuha's turn to hum. "i couldn't think of anything while i was up." you feel lips press against the crown of your head. "and since you're not making any moves to get up, i'm assuming you don't have any ideas either?"

you sure as hell don't. you were exhausted; over the past week, you've been swamped with work, buried under assignments, barely able to catch your breath. if kazuha had an activity in mind for the day, you'd hate it at first, but you'd do anything to see him happy. knowing that he doesn't brings you much more relief than you thought it would.

kazuha takes your silence as a yes. you really couldn't bring yourself to say much else. you only woke up because the sun was in your face. but here, kazuha serves as a great shelter from the light, and you find yourself dozing off again. "was gonna touch your hair," you murmur, your senses dulling as you drift off. "you're pretty in the sun."

you can't see it, but kazuha's cheeks flush a light pink. he breathes a soft laugh. "i'm flattered, dove." he twirls a lock of your hair in his fingers, working out any knots he may catch as he does. "you can play with it all you like when you wake, alright?"

your 'okay' is nearly incoherent as you fully fall asleep again, soothed by the faint smell of fresh linen and kazuha's shampoo.

[blackberry-gingham]

Be Still My Foolish Heart (Don't Ruin This on Me) | Otto Octavius x fem!Reader

<... Previously | Chapter 4 | Next...>

The power is stille out, but sure to return soon enough. With one last day without it, you choose to spend the time trapped at home with your new found acquaintance. But after tonight... that title between you two might just change.

(Fic concept by my dear friend, @samatedeansbroccoli 😌🤲🏻)

Tag list: @smokeywhalee @stupid-stinky @busybeingtrash @momos-peaches @pinkieperil @amongpresidents @bimboshaggy @nanjalee @mickeyperkins @tolovaj @omgbrainstorming @bad-bitch-bisexual @push-lennon-off-stage @doctoraceus (tag list open to additions! Or, lmk if you want off, all good!)

tags: slow burn, music au, age difference

---

It's another full day at least until the power is restored. You can't get to school. The doctor can't get to work. There's nothing to do but make a choice.

Spend the time alone, or keep one another company.

It's an easy decision as far as you're concerned. The doctor is only too happy to have you over again. He sits with his calculations, while you work out of your textbooks as best as you can. Peace and quiet. You have no idea how he does it, but the man the most infectious air of calm to him.

At first you felt a little strange coming over to ask if he would like the company. Even stranger still, when you both ended up on the same couch doing your work. But, it turns out you don't mind it. In truth, Otto seems like such a sweet man... It almost makes you sad that he doesn't have much going on socially outside of work.

You can't imagine being so lonely.

Scratch scratch scratch

Quick pencil marks make their way along the doctor's notebook. Rhythmic and hypnotic, it's easy to get distracted. He's just so... Focused.

The first thing you did when you came over was offer him back his sweater. It's the least you can do since you've practically invited yourself over, but the doctor will have none of it.

He scoffs nonchalantly, "You know what? Keep it. I have too many", he laughs, "Besides, it looks better on you". That takes you by surprise. You're embarrassed to say that you almost blush. That is... Until you realize he's holding back a snicker at how incredibly baggy and ill fitting it is for you.

Ah. Of course...

You laugh and offer your thanks. That was hardly fifteen minutes ago.

Try as you might, you do your best to keep your eyes on your papers, but it's only too easy to sneak a look at your new found acquaintance.

It's interesting really. He's put together all from large, bulky shapes. Sturdy and solid, but soft and warm. From a distance he looks so imposing. So intimating and unapproachable... But up close, you're not sure you've ever met such a gentle and welcoming soul.

You love that about him. The duality.

Like a great, monstrously sized dog that refuses to be told it's too big to sit in it's master's lap. Like a hard, metal park bench that's been warmed just right by the morning sun...

Even in just the short time of knowing him- It gives you a sense of respect for him. A feeling only doubled after learning the truth behind his line of work and the magnitude of his intelligence.

Here is a man lacking a single stuck up bone in his body. His great, strong, delicious body...

No.

Your eyes snap back to your own work. You give your head a little shake to clear your thoughts. Silly, stupid girl... You sneer in spite of yourself. How can you even think such thoughts? He's easily twice your age and you just met yesterday. You don't even know him.

And yet...

With his big, thick hands. His auburn curls, his deep set laugh lines, the cute little double chin, his round, warm belly...

You want to.

But, gah. Surely he doesn't feel that way. He's a busy man with a life of his own. Hell, you two wouldn't have even met if not for the strange fate of being neighbors. Even then, maybe not unless if for this damnable storm. You're lives are so different... What common ground do you possibly have?

You give a tiny sigh at that. Small enough to blow off, almost barely enough to even be heard. It takes you by surprise that the doctor caught it.

"Are those equations giving you trouble?", he huffs a laugh.

Chemistry wasn't quite what was on your mind, but... You glance down at the empty space in your notepad. He's not exactly wrong.

You politely decline the assistance however. If you can't figure it out alone, you'll never get it. Besides, you're quite confident you can see it through if only you'd stop allowing yourself to be so distracted.

The doctor kindly nods and goes back to his work. He works silently for a moment more, as do you, before casting a few little glances your way. Before you can ask about it, he speaks up.

"Your answer for 15 is completely incorrect by the way"

Without waiting for you to respond, he talks his way through your work and points out where things went off the rails. He then brushes over the mistake and sheds some light on the correct formula to use instead.

Well... You were afraid he'd end up just giving you the answer, but you must admit, his teaching skills are surprisingly adept. Even more interestingly, he seems more then happy to help. Excited, even.

Eagerly, he leans in over your shoulder as you correct the problem, "What else have you got?"

A part of you feels you should let him off, but... Should you really be turning down the help? It can't hurt after all.

"Well... I'm a little confused over here, actually..."

The doctor seems to completely forget about his own notes and calculations. Together you work through your questions one at a time. The work flies by. Everything sounds like such a cinch when he explains it.

When all is said and done, you thank him of course, but... You make an apology too, "Sorry, I didn't mean to distract you from your work"

The doctor brushes it off, "Pft, please. This stuff is easy, er- no offense... But compared to my usual work... Well, I'm more then happy to have a little distraction"

You laugh, no offense taken. Otto heaves a sigh and goes back to his work while you take a minute to relax. His mood visibly drops as he works. Curious, and with intentions to help uplift his mood, you trouble him for a little more distraction time and ask him what he's working on.

He spares you the tiresome details, but does his best to explain his clean energy project to you in layman's terms.

It sounds fascinating... Impossible, but incredible too. The doctor takes any cue you offer to give you more details on it. He's been working at it for decades, and he's so close to being ready, but...

This damnable containment field-

As it stands, the mini sun will swallow everything in it's path if he can't find a way to balance it out. Right now all he has is plans for a black hole on his hands.

You hardly have a thing to say as far as advice on the matter, but he seems content just to talk at you about it. He goes on for nearly half an hour discussing things that he thinks could work. Despite your best efforts to stay engaged... After all the work you've already done, you're falling asleep rather quick.

The doctor however, hardly seems to notice.

If you were more awake, you'd probably come to the realization that he must not get the opportunity to talk about his work much. Neither to brag about his incredible achievements so far, nor to bounce ideas off of a patient ear. You've heard the words tritium and adamantium so many times, you're sure you're going to dream about them.

In fact, the only thing that stops the doctor's brainstorming is the gentle pressure of your head sloped against his padded shoulder.

The sudden contact makes him jump a little. He snaps out of his speech and turns to look at you. Suddenly, he feels quite embarrassed. He's literally put you to sleep with his project ideas...

It's a good thing you're sleeping, honestly. He wouldn't want you to see the terrible spread of blush he's caught.

And yet... You look so peaceful, sleeping there. Besides, you've been working hard on those problems earlier. Even with his help, you insisted on doing most everything yourself. That's the kind of initiative he admires. There are few things he finds more attractive then a driven, ambitious woman after all.

Especially one so be-

No.

What is he saying?

He looks at your small face. You're just about old enough to be his daughter, for Christ's sake. And yet... Never before has he felt such a connection to someone. Someone who wants to be around him. To listen to his ideas. To hold conversation. To listen to his music...

Yes. He knows now that that treasured request came from you.

After doing all that work with you, it's obvious now. The way you slant your "a" and cross your "t"s is identical to the ones on the note. Add in the simple fact that you have indeed been living next door and listening to him all this time, and well... It's far too much to be a coincidence.

He's...

Well, it's rather pathetic to admit he thinks, but...

He's always wanted someone who appreciates him for his artistic side too. Everyone else seems to see him as nothing more then a walking computer. All brain, no personality, no personal life, no feelings... Just some robot that you point at a mathematical problem and wait until it's solved.

That's certainly how Norman prefers to treat him anyway.

You know, that angle your leaning at can't be too terribly comfortable for your neck...

Feeling daring, the doctor scoots a tiny bit closer to you. The displacement of his weight is enough to slide your bottom over just that little inch to make you two hip to hip. He wasn't planning on getting this close, per say, but... At least you seem more comfortable.

With a happy little sigh, your face snuggles up against his chubby bicep. It's firm with muscle, but soft as a pillow between his fine sweater and natural layer of pudge.

The doctor looks around his immediate vicinity. He wonders if you're cold still... Close enough for him to reach, he grabs a little throw blanket and drapes it over you. The placement is a bit rough considering he has to do it with a single arm, but after a bit of fixing... He's satisfied.

While you snooze, the doctor watches for just a moment before returning to his work. He wonders if you're alright with this... Would you prefer if he woke you up and sent you off to sleep at home?

For a little while there, he considers it...

He comes to the conclusion that, no, if you wanted to leave you would've. Although, admittedly it doesn't make much sense to him as to why you'd want to sleep here with him... You don't quite strike him as the passive type.

Surely you wouldn't let him wrestle you into a dull conversation if you weren't a least some what interested in listening.

And even if he's wrong... The thought that you, or anyone really, enjoys being around him makes him smile. At least it gives him the boost he needs to get back to his current problems.

The doctor works studiously for hours more. After a while, he almost forgets you're still there. You've been so quiet. So still... The thought that you might be legitimately sleeping rather then just napping suddenly hits him.

He checks the time. Well... It is far after midnight.

The doctor yawns and puts his work aside for the night. This is about the time he'd turn in himself, he admits. No sooner does the thought of sleep come to him then is it interrupted by the growling of his belly.

...This is also about the time he'd grab a midnight snack before bed.

He tenses, a little embarrassed, as he glances over to you. He lets out the breath he'd been holding. Still asleep.

The doctor throws a look over his shoulder to the kitchen. So close, yet so far... He can't bring himself to get up and disturb you, so... He supposes he'll just have to sacrifice his snack time tonight.

Only slightly disappointed, the doctor shimmys down to rest more comfortably on the back of the couch. Without thinking he lifts his arm to fix the blanket he's given you to cover himself a bit as well.

That's about when he realizes your head has slipped off his arm and down to his chest. Panicked, he watches silently as you lay more or less face planted into his pillowy pectoral. Damn it... He turns bright red, not sure what to do now with this mess he's gotten himself into.

Well, he certainly can't keep his arm suspended in the air all night long...

With a tired, resigned sigh, he has no choice but to rest it along your back. Ah, how very adolescent. Under different circumstances, this would be the absolute picture of young romance. If only he were actually young.

The doctor winces and tries to push that thought out of his mind.

This will have to be an issue for later... It's far to late to do anything right now. Besides, he's tired and starving and right now he can only remedy one of those problems.

He huffs a sigh, and tries not to tense as his stomach growls beneath you again. Hopefully he can fall asleep quickly...

Thankfully, it would seem he can.

A good thing too... He simply wouldn't be able to handle the adorable way your hand grabbed onto his sweater in thanks.

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

too tall, too strong, too heavy

Fandom: Supergirl Rating: T Pairings: None A/N: *shambles in late with starbucks and a two-year-old Danvers Sisters centric Supergirl/PacRim AU* Heeeeey. (As always, not k*lex, do not tag it as such unless you wanna get blocked.) 

...

BEFORE THE DRIFT

2013

Alex Danvers wakes up in a triage tent with a blue cast on her arm, and no memory of how it got there...or how she got there.

Her body is sluggish, and slow to respond to her own growing alarm. Her eyes dart back and forth, desperate for a familiar face—where's her mom? Wasn't she just with her mom? Indistinct images fill her mind: the backseat of an SUV she didn't recognize, clogged lanes on the freeway. They don't help her steadily mounting unease.

“W—where's,” she rasps to the nearest stranger, trying to get his attention. He's standing at the end of her cot, frowning at a clipboard. She tries again, “where's—where's my mom? Where are we?”

The man looks over at her, but, instead of answering her question, checks his clipboard again, and rushes off.

Alex can feel frightened, frustrated tears forming at the corners of her eyes. She lets her head fall back on the thin, scratchy pillow, and tries to think. Think. But it's difficult; the tent is full of people and noise and no matter how hard Alex tries to focus, to get some idea of where she is and what's going on, nothing is making sense.

It's so loud and chaotic, Alex almost misses the small voice that answers her question.

“We're in Fremont.”

Alex swallows thickly, and slowly turns her head to one side.

A girl is seated on the cot next to hers. She looks like she could maybe be Alex's age...it's hard to tell. She's dressed in scrubs that are a size too big, making her look younger than she probably is.

“...huh?” Alex's tongue sticks to the roof of her mouth. She wants some water almost as much as she wants some answers.

“Fremont,” the girl repeats, rubbing the hem of her shirt between her fingers. “We're in Fremont, because some sort of bomb went off in the city.”

Alex continues to stare at the other girl, the words Fremont, bomb, and city all hitting her in that order. She still doesn't remember how she got here, or how she hurt her arm, but she does remember being in San Francisco.

With her parents, down by the Presidio.

She struggles to sit up. The girl watches, wide-eyed, seemingly frozen in place.

“Um, I don't think you're supposed to—”

“I—I,” Alex rasps again,“I—was with my mom.” She says it out loud, not trusting her frenzied mind to keep it all straight. “We were together when the...the...” Alex remembers the destruction, the panic, being rushed into the back of that SUV, but somehow the word 'bomb' doesn't seem right.

There was something else. The bridge...

“...I need to find my mom,” Alex says.

The girl looks like she's going to protest as Alex struggles against the thin bedding tucked around her uncooperative legs, but before she can say anything, the man appears at the end of her cot once more.

He's turned away, however, speaking to someone behind him.  

“—awake and asking for you—” he says over his shoulder.

Alex can't help it. She sobs in relief as her mom appears and rushes forward to wrap her in a tight hug, though it's clear, as she somewhat awkwardly arranges her grip, that she's trying not to bump her injured arm.

And Alex, for her part, can't remember any hug feeling as good, as safe and warm, as this one. She squeezes her mom as tight as her uninjured arm will allow.

“I can't remember, I can't—is dad here? Is dad okay? Why can't I—I don't remember what happened—” it all tumbles out in a hysterical rush as Alex cries into her mom's shoulder. Her mom tells her it's okay, he's okay, you're okay, over and over, her tone soft and reassuring.

She doesn't know how long they sit like that. Long enough for Alex to calm down, and become keenly aware that she's been crying in front of strangers. It makes her face burn with embarrassment, and she slouches down further into her mom's embrace in a poor attempt to hide from...everything.

But her mom's phone buzzes in her pocket—the vibration startles them both.

“It's Dad, honey,” her mom says as she pulls away from Alex. Alex is reluctant to let her go. “I have to answer this—I'll be just outside, alright?”

Alex nods mutely, not trusting her voice just yet. As her mom stands to go, the man with the clipboard tells her that he's going to get the doctor. “Just to make sure everything's healing okay,” he explains.

Again, she just nods, and lets herself lie back on the cot. She stares at the rough canvas overhead, taking deep breaths, letting the surrounding conversations become mindless white noise.

Except, as she gradually calms, her focus shifts from her own no-longer-racing heart to those overlapping conversations, and words begin to jump out from the meaningless background chatter.

“—still unsafe, the whole city's blocked off—”

“—know where my family is—?”

“—possible head trauma over at bed seventeen—”

“—waiting on federal aide and response, sorry—”

Alex feels her anxiety creeping back. She still doesn't know what's happened, to the city, or herself.

But...she's sure either the doctor or her mom will tell her, once they come back. She just has to patient.

She tries to keep staring at the canvas ceiling. Tries to tune out the noise, to rest her eyes, her mind, anything.

She's wide awake now, though, and borderline restless. She wants answers.

Alex thinks for a moment. So far, there's only been one person who's given her any answers.

She glances over at the girl in the next cot. She's making a fairly obvious effort to avoid eye contact. Probably because Alex made it all...awkward, what with crying like that, in front of everyone.

“Um...hey,” Alex says a bit stiffly. The girl turns, and Alex realizes she can't have a conversation, lying prone on the cot. So she struggles into an upright position before continuing. When she does, she's a little out of breath. “Thanks,” she says simply.

The girl now looks confused.

“For...earlier,” Alex clarifies, tongue still dry and tripping a little. She struggles through swallowing. “For answering my question.”

“Oh,” comprehension dawns on the girl's face. “Um. No problem,” she rubs the hem of her shirt again. “I did the same thing, when I woke up,” she explains. “I couldn't remember how I got here, so,” she offers Alex a small, encouraging smile, “I freaked out a little too.”

An odd mixture of gratitude and self-consciousness causes Alex to smile in return, though she ducks her head slightly. “Oh, well, glad it wasn't just me,” she chuckles weakly. “So you uh...cried all over your parents too?”

She looks back at the girl, expecting more of the awkward smiles and laughter they've thus far shared, but.

The girl isn't smiling.

“...No,” she says. “My parents are still, um.” She stops rubbing the hem of her shirt and instead moves to picking at a loose thread on the blanket. “They're missing.”

“...O-oh,” Alex stammers. “I'm...sorry.”

“It's, um,” she starts to say, “it's weird, because. I don't...really remember being separated from them...” she turns to look at Alex. “I don't remember...much of anything, actually.” The girl stares at her hands. “I'm sad...but mostly because I'm not more sad, you know?”

Alex has no idea what to say to that, but finds herself nodding, because it feels rude not to. Still, she rubs her cast, and silently wishes she was anywhere but here.

Her gaze drifts to the end of her cot. There's another clipboard there, and a sharpie marker.

“...Wanna sign my cast?” Alex blurts. The girl blinks, and watches as Alex reaches over with her good arm to grab the marker.

It's as Alex is reaching for the pen that she notices each clipboard at the end of the cots has a number. Alex's is sixteen.

Meaning that the girl next to her...

Possible head trauma over at bed seventeen.

Alex's eyes widen. The girl not being able to remember anything...is making much more sense now.

“Why do you want me to sign your cast?”

The girl's question pulls Alex from her thoughts. “That's what you do with them,” Alex says, sitting back and offering her the marker. The girl accepts it, but still looks confused.

“It is?” She asks. Alex stares at her for a moment, but then remembers, oh, right. Head trauma. Amnesia.

“Yeah, you have your friends, like,” she mimes scribbling on the cast, “sign their name.”

The girl slowly nods. “Oh...okay,” she says, and takes the cap off the marker. “...Are we friends?”

“...Sure,” Alex decides, after giving it a moment of thought. “If you wanna be.”

The girl appears to think about it for a moment too, before nodding back at her. “Yeah,” she says, and her smile returns. “I'd like to be friends.”

“Cool,” Alex says, grateful for the positive turn their conversation has taken. She holds out her broken arm. “So, yeah. You can sign wherever.”

The girl does, carefully dragging the marker across the bumpy surface, her expression the picture of intense concentration. Alex notices that her hand shakes.

“Is that good?” The girl asks once she's done, and hands the pen back to Alex. Alex tilts her head, since she's written it right-side up to her, but upside down to Alex.

K A R A

“Yeah, that's good...Kara,” she says. Kara smiles.

“Thanks...uh...”

“Alex,” Alex says.

Kara nods happily.

“Thanks Alex.”

It's at that point the doctor arrives, ending their conversation. Alex dutifully turns her focus to answering the woman's questions. No, no dizziness; yes, some trouble remembering the accident; yes, it's pretty sore...

She's still busy answering questions when a tall, thin woman with brown hair approaches Kara's cot, and says something Alex can't quite hear.

“Okay, Alex, I'm going to check the cut on your forehead. It might sting a little—”

Alex winces and complies as the doctor moves into her field of vision, gently removing the butterfly bandage at her hairline.

When the doctor finishes and moves again, Kara's cot is empty.

Alex blinks, alarmed, and looks up towards the other side of the tent. She sighs in relief as she catches sight of Kara—she's still in the tent, just seated in a different area, talking to the brown-haired woman, and another doctor.

“I'm gonna need you to be real still for me, okay?”

“Okay,” Alex says, wincing again as the doctor applies a new bandage.

Maybe that woman has news about Kara's mom and dad. Maybe that woman is Kara's mom.

Alex hopes so.

---

2016

“For the last twenty minutes of class today, we'll be finishing up the 'About Me' worksheet. Make sure to turn it in before you leave.”

Ms. Martinez writes the rest of the homework up on the board as everyone starts pulling out their papers. Kara does the same, reaching into her binder to grab the assignment. She's practically done, down to the last few questions.

Is there anything I should know about you to help make your learning experience easier? Please be specific—this information will not be shared!

Kara frowns, and taps her pencil against her desk. Ms. Martinez probably already knows most of the stuff that she'd write down—she's certain the ongoing issues with the 504 plan are well documented in some sort of file on her...but maybe she should just explain it anyway. Maybe she should explain that she hasn't been formally diagnosed with anything yet, and therefore can't qualify for accomodations; that her entire medical history is one big question mark, which doesn't make this any easier; that maybe she had been diagnosed with something that would explain the sensory processing disorder—they really have no way of knowing, given the circumstances.

She sighs. It would probably be best to lead with that part...the 'circumstances.'

I'm adopted, she starts to write. My parents died on K-Day.

She pauses, pencil hovering over her paper, unsure of what to add. The head trauma and memory loss? The weeks spent in the refugee center? How Eliza and Alex stayed with her, as CPS struggled to locate two people Kara couldn't even describe?

She doesn't want to write any of that down—it all feels like...a lot. Instead, she adds a brief, I used to get panic attacks, but I'm doing better now, and moves on to the remaining questions.

She finishes up just as the bell rings. Grinning, she hurriedly shoves her books and binders into her backpack, drops her assignment in the turn-in tray, and rushes out the door. It's lunchtime, Kara's favorite part of the school day. Because well, one, lunch obviously. But also two, she gets to hang out with Kenny.

She finds him at their usual table in the far corner of the cafeteria. He smiles and waves her over.

“Did you see the video I sent you?” he asks as soon as she sits down. She shakes her head.

“I got it, but I haven't watched it yet,” she says, spork already poised to dig into her terriyaki chicken.

“Okay, good, because this footage is way better. This guy has a series of 4K drone shots—no clue how he manages to fly the thing so close.” Kenny props his cell phone up against a stack of textbooks and taps the 'play' icon in the center of the screen.

The channel intro begins—a small, animated Class II Kaiju stomps to the center of the screen, tearing the logo from the background. Kara has to admit, the graphics look cool.

Then, the actual footage starts to play, and Kenny's right, it's really good. Crystal clear and smooth, even better than a lot of the news footage released following the Hong Kong Event.  

But. It's mostly shots of the ruined Hong Kong shoreline. Kara nudges Kenny's shoulder gently, and he nods, understanding, and reaches forward to scrub through the video.

She offers him a grateful smile. They'd met Freshmen year—assigned to do a group project in science, and ended up the only two who had done any work. Kenny was funny, and kind, and understood better than most what Alex and Kara had gone through. His family had been living in Oakland when K-Day occurred. Fortunately, they were evacuated before the missiles were engaged, but the assault against Trespasser had pretty much leveled most of the city, meaning that the Li family had to completely start over elsewhere.

Also, he was like, the only person that didn't find Kara's fascination with the Kaiju weird or creepy.

“Okay, here,” he says, letting the video resume. Kara can see it—Kaiju blood in Victoria Harbor. “Horizon Brave was able to drive it back out into the bay before they brought it down. Yeah, see?” the footage pulls out wide to reveal a ring of container ships, working to extract the Kaiju's remains from the seawater. It's a gruesome sight, but no longer a shock—not after five attacks.

Kara continues watching. It's impressive, how far back the Jaeger managed to move the creature. “Do you think they really drove it back?” Kenny looks at her, confused. “I mean. Do you think it's possible that it was like...trying to get back to where it came from?”

“Huh,” Kenny leans back on the bench. “I mean. Maybe?”

“You know, like a scared animal, retreating back to its home,” Kara says, thrusting her spork into the 'corn' section of her lunch tray.

“Or like a soldier retreating from battle, going for reinforcements,” Kenny suggests.

Kara pushes her corn around, not really convinced.

“...Yeah, maybe.”

The video ends, and Kenny mutes the outro before turning to her. “What do your parents think?” he asks. “They study Kaiju, don't they?”

Kara nods. “Yeah, but they can't talk about any of their research,” she tells him. “It's like. Top secret government stuff.” She stops turning her corn into mush and actually takes a bite, and immediately regrets it.

Oh...gross. So gross.

“Bummer,” Kenny says. Kara fights her gag reflex.

“Mmm-hmmm.”

Kenny grins. “The corn?”

“Mmph.”

He laughs, before fishing around in his lunch bag and extracting a paper napkin. Kara happily accepts it, and tries to be discreet about getting the offending vegetable (fruit? Grain?) out of her mouth.

“We've been through this—always go for the carrots instead,” he advises.

Kara continues to cringe in disgust, the taste lingering. “I know, I know.”

Kenny queues up another video—not about Kaiju, this one is apparently just a bunch of cute cat Vines—and Kara almost has the taste of corn out of her mouth, when someone drops a tray on the other side of the cafeteria.

The plastic clatters noisily against the linoleum floor, but it's the glass bottle of Snapple, shattering and causing more than a few students to gasp and cry out in alarm, that hits Kara at painful volume.

She hisses and clamps her hands over her ears. She can hear everyone's shoes squeaking as they scramble to get out of the way of the spill. Jackets rustling. Breathing. Heartbeats. Pounding footsteps from the janitor.

“Hey, you need to go outside?” Kenny asks very quietly, but it still feels too loud. Kara starts to shake her head, but the action makes her temples throb.

“No, no,” she mutters, “It'll pass, I'll be okay...”

Kenny shifts so that he's not sitting so close—this has happened a few times before, he knows to give her space—and Kara counts backwards from twenty. Something to focus on, other than the noise.

“What's wrong with her?”

“—for attention, it wasn't even that loud—”

“So weird—”

“—embarrassing—”

Kara forces herself to drop her hands to the table; the sounds haven't stopped, but she doesn't want people staring.

“You okay?” Kenny asks.

Kara answers through clenched teeth. “I will be.”

—Nine, eight, seven...

Gradually, the noises fade. Her ears ring slightly, but everything's back to its normal volume by the time she makes it to 'one.'

“Have the doctors figured that out yet?” Kenny asks. From anyone else, the question might seem rude, even prying. But Kara can tell her friend's just genuinely concerned.

She flexes her fingers against the table. She always feels slightly jittery, after one of these 'episodes.' “So far, everything keeps coming back normal,” she tells him. Kenny frowns.

“Weird,” he says. “But also...good, right? That means nothing's really wrong.”

She can see his point—really, she can. It is good, that all the tests keep coming back, saying nothing is the matter with you, everything is 100% normal.

But how does she explain that it can't be right—it can't be right because she doesn't feel normal?

But she doesn't want to tell Kenny that. Really, she just wants to pretend it never happened.

“Yeah, you're right,” she says, sliding her lunch tray to hide the finger-sized indents in the tabletop. “It's good.”

There's nothing good on TV.

Alex doesn't care, though. She continues to channel surf past sitcom reruns and made-for-TV movies, not so much determined to find something good; she just needs something to drown out her parent's argument in the next room over.

“—don't understand why they need you to fly to another country to build a bomb—”

“—complicated than that, we've been through this before, Eliza—”  

Alex's frown deepens, and she turns up the volume. Kara looks up from her homework, a questioning expression on her face, but Alex ignores it. She's not in the mood.

Sitcom, reality show, info-mercial, local news, reality show—

“Go back,” Kara says suddenly. Alex turns to look at her, and smirks.

“What, to Real Housewives?”

Kara rolls her eyes, and makes a grab for the remote, which Alex easily blocks.

“No,” Kara says, making one last half-hearted play for the remote. Alex moves it just beyond her reach. “The news—there was something about the most recent Kaiju attack.”

Now it's Alex's turn to roll her eyes as she changes the channel back to the local affiliate. She's never understood Kara's apparent fixation on Kaiju.

When Kara first came to stay with them, her mom told her it was just the younger girl's way of coping with the trauma of K-Day, and that she needed to be patient with her foster sister. And she was patient with her—had been patient for the past three years—but she still can't help thinking it's more than a little morbid, to be so fascinated by the hulking, destructive monsters.

“Alex, look at this,” Kara says suddenly, and Alex groans inwardly.

“What, Kara?”

“Just,” Kara gestures to the screen, “watch for a second.”

Alex reluctantly complies. (She has no desire to drown out one argument by starting another.) Wobbly iPhone footage reveals a shot of the Jaeger—China's Horizon Brave, according to the chyron—engaging the Kaiju, pushing it further back into Hong Kong's Victoria Bay.

“That's...cool, I guess,” Alex starts to say, but Kara shakes her head.

“No, no. Look at this,” Kara physically points to a portion of the screen—whoever was filming the fight has focused on the Jaeger, which is charging up to fire something at the Kaiju. In the background, though, just slightly out of focus, the Kaiju...

Is turning around?

“What, is it like...winding up? To hit Horizon Brave?” Alex asks, leaning closer to the TV in spite of herself. Kara takes advantage of her distraction and grabs the remote, but Alex doesn't really care anymore, because darn it, now she's like. Invested.

“That's what they were saying, but the Jaeger was out of range for a direct hit,” Kara explains, rewinding the footage. She let's it play for a few seconds, then pauses. “So why turn around in the middle of a fight?”

“To run away,” Alex says automatically.

Kara nods, wearing a pleased grin.

“Exactly.” She looks back at the screen, and gradually, her grin fades to a thoughtful frown. “But where would it run away to?”

“Well, it's gotta be the Breach, right?” Alex sits back on the couch. Kara looks at her, and slowly nods. “Have any of the other Kaiju done that? Gone back to the Breach?”

“I don't think so...” Kara says, “Maybe Eliza would know something? Or Jeremiah?”

Alex winces, and glances over her shoulder towards the kitchen. She hasn't heard any arguing for a few minutes, but cupboards and pots are being slammed and banged a little louder that she'd like.

“Um. Maybe,” she says, “but you know they can never talk about that stuff.”

Kara looks at the paused image on the TV, and sighs.

“...Yeah,” she finally says, and hands Alex the remote. Alex accepts it, but holds it for a moment before pressing play and changing the channel.

“...Why are you so interested in this stuff?” she asks. She doesn't remember having ever questioned Kara about it directly.

And it shows, because Kara's eyebrows raise in slight surprise.

“Huh?”

“The Kaiju,” Alex clarifies. “The Jaegers.”

“I don't care about the Jaegers,” Kara says. And Alex sighs.

“Kara, that makes it even weirder,” she flops back against the couch, exasperated. “At least if you were one of those Jaeger Otaku, it would make sense, because they're the good guys.”

“But we don't know anything about the Kaiju, so how do we know they're the bad guys?” Kara counters. Alex stares at her.

“Kara...we were there in San Francisco on K-Day. We've seen firsthand what these things can do--how can you think they aren't the bad guys?” she asks in a flat voice.

Her sister hugs her knees to her chest, and picks at a loose thread in her jeans as she consider's her question.

“Alex, I don't—” she starts, looks away, and then starts again. “I don't...remember. A lot of the attack itself,” she says, and Alex takes a deep breath. This isn't exatly where she had thought this conversation would go, and she's wondering if it was a good idea to start it at all. “But I remember how I felt, afterwards. I remember seeing other people, seeing you,” she tilts her chin  in Alex's direction, “hurt, and lost, and scared.

“It was...awful, and I...I remember thinking that I never wanted to see anyone else have to go through that. Ever. Ever again.” Kara sighs. “I didn't want anyone else to feel...the way I was feeling.”

Alex swallows. “Kara, I didn't mean—”

But Kara keeps talking. “And after they stopped Trespasser...we all thought that was the end. So nobody really...no one thought we had to look any further, or do anything else. But they kept coming back—they keep coming back,” she says, and finally turns to look at Alex. Her expression isn't sad, or angry, or hurt. If anything, she looks...determined. “And we keep sending Jaegers to kill them. I just think...” she rubs her palms against her knees. “I think there has to be a better way.”

Kara stops talking, and Alex realizes she's been holding her breath. She exhales softly, as her sister's heavy words settle in the space between them.

“Well...I guess that's better than being a Jaeger Otaku,” Alex finally says, attempting to lighten the mood. Kara looks at her. “Those guys are huge nerds.”

It takes her a minute, but after a beat, Kara smiles, and even chuckles.

“Such nerds,” she agrees.

“Girls! Dinner!” Her mom calls from the kitchen. Alex turns off the TV and stands, moving to join Kara as they head to the dining room.

“Oh, Jeremiah!” Kara brightens as they meet him in the hall. “We were just watching some of the Hong Kong footage, and we noticed something weird about—”

“Hey, sorry girls,” he says, and Alex notices that he's holding his dinner plate, and clearly not headed in the direction of the dining room table. “Can't talk right now—I gotta catch a red eye to Sydney in,” he glances at his smartwatch, “soon.”

“You're leaving tonight?” Alex asks with dismayed surprised. He'd only been home for two days. ...No wonder her mom was upset.

“I'll call you once I'm at the airport,” he promises, patting Kara's shoulder. “We'll talk about it then, okay?”

“...Okay,” both girls chorus unhappily. He smiles and continues down the hall, disappearing into his office.

Alex watches him go, anger stirring in her stomach. She feels a hand on her shoulder, and at first, assumes it's Kara.

“Come on, girls.” It's her mom. Her hand moves from Alex's shoulder to rub her back gently. “Your food's getting cold.”

Alex pulls away from them both, turning towards the stairs.

“I'm not hungry.”

---

2020

It's late afternoon when Kara arrives at Eliza's office, slightly damp and out of breath. She rushes inside and shuts the door quickly, but lets herself linger against the doorframe, as though if she leans on it hard enough, she can block out the afternoon's events entirely.

The sound of her breathing fills the small room—Eliza's not there, of course. She's in one of the lecture halls, in the middle of a class. Kara should be in class too, for that matter. She's missing—something. Introduction to Ethics, maybe. She doesn't know, and right now, she doesn't care.

She continues to breathe heavily, but gradually sinks to the floor. She's exhausted. Not from the run across campus, but rather from the steadily mounting panic she'd felt in the wake of the incident. She lets her head tip forward to rest on her folded knees, her wet hair pressing into the wet denim of her jeans.

It's okay, you're okay, she mentally assures herself, but sighs angrily. That's what makes it not okay. The fact that she's okay!

She'd been on her way to class, sort of in a hurry because of the light rain, and another student just ahead of her had dropped something. A book, a binder—Kara couldn't really remember. It fell just off the curb, and Kara was right there, so she figured she'd do something nice and help out...

But when she'd stooped to pick up the lost books or binders or whatever, the volume of the surrounding traffic jumped; another one of her episodes. She shut her eyes and tried to ride out the sudden onslaught of stimuli.

Which is why she didn't see the car that had decided to skip the weather-induced traffic jam by swerving into the bike lane, and why she didn't move out of the way as the vehicle clipped her.

There was shouting after that—maybe at Kara, maybe at the car. She didn't, or rather, couldn't stick around to find out, because when she finally opened her eyes and took in the scene around her, it was very obvious that she was fine.

But the car was decidedly not.

Kara feels her heart rate rise again—her stomach twists uncomfortably and she can tell she's headed for a panic attack. Oddly enough, for someone so prone to them, Kara's rarely ever been afraid of things. Even during what was arguably the most terrifying incident in the history of mankind—K-day—she was fairly unfazed.

It's just. It's the sensory thing. The claustrophobia thing. The weird dreams thing. And now, apparently, the 'breaking cars with her body' thing.

But even that isn't what's really scaring her, because it's not the first time something weird has happened to her. It's the fact that this is the first time it's happened so publicly—in front of other people. She can't ignore it, explain it away as some sort of weird, latent symptom of PTSD. It's suddenly become terribly, frighteningly real.

She's managed to get her beathing under control, though her stomach is still a bit of a mess. That, and now that the adrenaline rush has worn off, she's aware of the unpleasant chill coming from her wet clothes.

She forces herself to stand and shuck her jacket, all the while trying to figure out what she should do. What next steps to take.

Tell Eliza is what immediately comes to mind, but that obviously won't work. Not right now, anyway. Kara doesn't feel like causing another scene by interrupting the lecture, and there's at least another fifty minutes left before the class ends.

No, Eliza is out. She could maybe call Kenny...? Kara sighs. She hasn't talked to Kenny in months, what with the whole 'attending schools on the opposite sides of the country' thing. They've lost a bit of that closeness they once shared.

...And he'd probably be really into it, actually. Have you been around radioactive spiders, or something? Because it totally sounds like you have superpowers, now.

She smiles weakly at the thought—it's almost tempting enough to get her to reconsider. But as she forces herself to move from the door to Eliza's desk chair, she knows there's really only one person she can call. One person who will know exactly what to do, will have all the answers.

She grabs her phone and pulls up Alex's number. Or, she would, but at that moment, the office door opens.

Kara starts. It's not one of Eliza's students—obviously wouldn't be, as they'd know her office hours. A Midvale College ID badge hangs around his neck, so he's probably an administrator or an aide or something from the front office, but standing behind him...

Kara's heart rate skyrockets again.

There's a campus cop with him, and a stern-looking guy in a suit.

They saw the wreck. They saw the wreck and they saw me run away and now they're here to arrest me for a hit-and-run. Can you commit a hit-and-run while on foot? Oh, god—

But instead of stepping forward and slapping a pair of handcuffs on her wrists, the office aide is first to speak.

“Mrs. Danvers...?” he seems very unsure. As he should be, because Kara doesn't really look like faculty staff material right now, drenched and discheveled as she is.

“Uh, no, no. S-she's...she has a class right now,” Kara explains, trying not to sound too relieved that they're apparently looking for Eliza, not her.

“Do you know where I can find her?” It's the campus cop who next speaks, moving himself further into the office, nudging the aide out of the way. His insistent tone renews Kara's worry—not for herself, though. But for Eliza.

“No, I—” Kara starts to say, frowning. “...Eliza Danvers is my mom,” she tells him. “Why do you need to see her? What's wrong?”

The cop suddenly looks uncomfortable, which doesn't ease Kara's growing concern. “We need to speak with her.”

“Look, here's my ID card,” Kara hurriedly reaches into her pocket and withdraws the plasic card bearing her full name and ID number. “See? Danvers.”

The cop doesn't look it over, but the aide does.  He gives her a pained look.

“I'm not sure if we can—”

“We really need to speak with your mother, Miss Danvers,” Kara blinks. It's the man in the suit. He'd been silent up until that point, and had made an effort to avoid eye contact. Honestly, she'd kind of forgotten he was even there. “I'm afraid I have some. Unfortunate news.” He has a faint accent. Kara can't quite place it.

She swallows audibly. “What...what kind of unfortunate news?”

“We should just go get—” the aide tries to say, but the man in the suit cuts him off.

“It's about your father. Jeremiah,” the man says. Kara stares at him. Watches as his mouth move. But she's having a hard time hearing him—everything sort of sounds. Muffled. Fuzzy.

She sinks back down into Eliza's chair, dropping her gaze to the floor.

“—My sincere condonlences, Miss Danvers—”

There was a tributary, just off the Russian River delta, that had been blocked off shortly after the San Francisco Event. The upset in tectonic activity out in the Pacific had altered typical tide patterns, and so it was that Kaiju Blue deposits had been washed ashore, all up and down the California coast. Some of it leaked further inland and, as was the case with this slow-moving tributary, settled in big, goopy, near-stagnant puddles.

Which of course caused a public health scare—with no immediate information on how the unearthly blue substance would affect humans, the area was quickly deemed hazardous. Bent metal signs still dotted the muddy banks between towering trees, warning off tourists.

Alex ignores the signs, of course. She's never paid them any mind before, and she's not about to start now.

She tosses a stone into the unnaturally blue water—it runs a little clearer now than it did five or six years ago, but the banks are still stained with the distinct color.

The stone lands with a loud sploosh, just as soft footsteps approach from behind.

Alex sighs, irritated. She knows who it is—there's only one other person who knows about Alex's hiding place.

“Go away, Kara.”

The footsteps continue, undeterred, until Kara's standing beside Alex, hands shoved in the pockets of her black dress.

“I've been covering for you all afternoon,” she tells her. From anyone else, it might sound like a reprimand, but Kara's tone is impossibly gentle. “Mom's getting worried.

Alex can't help the venomous reply that seeps out. “Worried, or annoyed?”

“Probably both,” Kara admits, voice still soft, if a little tired. “I just came to warn you.”

“...Thanks,” Alex reluctantly mutters, and tosses another stone. “I'll...text her.”

“Let her know if you're driving back tonight,” Kara adds. She moves further down the river bank, watching the sluggish current push leaves and twigs downstream. “She wanted to know if she should make up the guest room.”

Alex hurls another rock into the water before standing up.

“I'm not going back.”

“That's fine, you just need to text mom—” Kara starts, not understanding.

So Alex cuts her off.

“No, I'm not going back at all.”

A faint breeze kicks up, rustling the leaves overhead. Birds chirp. The water below gurgles along its stony bed.

Alex lets it wash over her, trying to ignore the weight of Kara's gaze. She can feel it, even though she can't see it.

Eventually, Kara speaks.

“What?”

Alex breathes in through her nose. “I'm not going back to school. I quit. Emailed my advisors this morning.”

“That's...I don't—” Alex finally turns to look at Kara. Her sister's expression is caught somehwere between disbelief and alarm. “Alex—that's a...a huge decision to make, and you shouldn't...you're not—”

“Not what, Kara?” Alex challenges harshly, narrowing her eyes. Kara rubs her temple.

“You're not—you're not in a great place...emotionally, so I don't think—”

“I don't care what you think,” Alex snaps, and Kara reels as if she's been hit. But Alex goes on, “I don't care what you think, or what mom thinks, because I'm done, okay? I'm done trying to figure out where those things came from, trying to understand them. I'm done trying to assign a reason as to why they just show up and mindlessly destroy whole cities and lives. I'm done trying to understand why dad kept choosing this stupid, pointless research over us, and I'm done trying to understand why he had to die, alright?!”

She's shouting by the end, angry tears threatening to spill over. She roughly wipes them away, not at all surprised to see that Kara's crying too, and that her sister hasn't bothered to try and hide her hurt feelings.

“...I didn't know...” Kara starts to say, “I didn't...mean to—”

“I know. I know. You never do.” Alex tries very hard not to sound exasperated, and fails. “Look. I'm not like you, Kara. I look at those monsters, and I don't see something we can reason with, or...or...something we grant mercy. I remember what one of those things did to San Francisco. I remember the attack. You don't.”

It's cruel, and Alex knows she will regret having said it, later. But right now, it feels good. It feels good knowing that someone else is hurting just as much as she is.

Kara's voice is hollow and rough when she finally responds.

“Text Mom. I'm not covering for you anymore.”

“Yeah, fine.”

“Fine.”

And then Kara leaves, walking back towards the road, disappearing from Alex's view. She waits until she can no longer hear Kara's footsteps—waits until she's sure that she's well and truly alone out here...

Then turns back to the river, and weeps.

---

2022

“Like, now? Right now?”

“Right now,” Kara can hear the smile in James' voice. “She has a gap between tapings. If you can get here before three, I should be able to get you fifteen minutes with her.”

“James, this is amazing. You're amazing,” Kara exclaims, fumbling with the lock on her front door. She's having a hard time juggling her phone, her purse, the veritable mountain of manila folders tucked under her free arm, and her own nervous excitement. “I can't believe—Cat Grant. Oh my god.”

She rushes into her apartment, dropping the files in a precarious heap on the dining table before hurrying to her bedroom, in search of an outfit that doesn't scream 'cash-strapped, sleep-deprived college student'.

“Think this'll impress Snapper?” James asks, referring to Kara's impossible-to-please newswriting instructor.

Kara snorts. “Unlikely. He hates Cat Grant,” she puts the phone on speaker and sets it on her nightstand as she continues to search through her coat closet. Where's Alex when I need her? she thinks as she surveys her options. Should I wear the blue one...or...?

“Really?” James sounds surprised. “I didn't peg him as an anti-Jaeger guy.”

Kara decides to forego fashion, and just selects the jacket that's least-wrinkled. It clashes spectacularly with her sweater, but sort of matches her skirt?

“I don't think it's a politics thing,” Kara says, picking up her phone as she hurries back out into the living room. And...oh, no, the jacket doesn't go with the skirt. That's navy blue, not black... “I think Snapper just hates everyone.”

“He sounds like a gem,” James remarks.

“He's...prickly,” she says diplomatically. James scoffs.

“Prickly. Right.”

Kara bends to check under the couch. Ah-ha! She triumphantly extracts a pair of shoes and tugs them on. She's not sure she looks any less financially challenged, but the adrenaline rush has at least ensured she won't look too sleep deprived.

She stays on the line as James relays some final instructions. “Right—front gate, okay,” Kara repeats, mentally logging the information. As she does so, she sifts through the piles of papers on the kitchen counter, looking for her voice recorder. “Check in with security for a pass.”

“Once you're checked in, you'll want to head to stage fourteen,” James continues. Kara finds the recorder beneath a pile of unopened mail. She moves to push it aside, but one of the envelopes catches her eye.

It's addressed to Alex, but that's not surprising; her sister had leased the apartment before her, which meant Kara recieved the occasional piece of junk mail with Alex's name on it.

But this doesn't look like junk mail.

“Stage...four...” Kara picks the envelope up and stares at the government seal stamped next to the postmark.

“No...fourteen,” James is saying, but Kara isn't listening. She's trying to remember the last time she talked to Alex...trying to remember if Alex had said anything about her job.

“James,” she says, interrupting him, “your sister's in the military, right?”

There's a lengthy pause, as James no doubt struggles to understand the strange and abrupt change in subject. “...Uh, yeah...?”

“Do you know—is there...” Kara runs her hand through her hair, not even quite sure what to ask. “Would there be any reason, for the PPDC to send something to a civilian? Maybe for something like contract work?”

“The Pan Pacific Defense Corp? Uh, that's not really...” he sounds both surprised and confused, “The PPDC—they're not military. They're kind of their own thing, as far as I know.” There's another pause. “...Kara, what's going on?”

“Sorry, I—” Kara shakes her head and exhales, no longer thinking about Cat Grant, or interviews, or impressing Snapper Carr.

Instead, she's thinking about her last conversation with Alex. How long ago had it been...two, maybe three weeks? She'd asked about work, and Alex remained cagey, as always. Something about government contracts, and NDAs.

That's all it is, Kara reasons. Just contract work, right?

Which would explain her sister's seemingly permanent exhaustion, but not her aparent sudden interest in hitting the gym. “Geez, you move to LA and suddenly become a walking Peleton ad,” Kara had teased her, though she was secretly thrilled that her sister had traded drinking and partying for what she thought was just jogging and cold-pressed juice.

“Kara?” James voice sounds small, a million miles away from Kara's current headspace, “Kara, you there?”

She takes a deep breath. She's being ridiculous, jumping to conclusions like this. There's no reason she should be getting this worked up over what might simply be a paycheck. Or, heck, maybe it is actually just junk mail. It's entirely possible that it's an ad for one of those veterans charities, right?

Right?

I'm done trying to figure out where those things came from, trying to understand them.

“I'm—I'm here,” she assures him quietly.

But he can tell something's off. “...What's wrong?”

She sighs. Pinches the bridge of her nose.

Alex...I hope I'm wrong about this.

“I think my sister joined the Jaeger Academy.”

---

2023

Alex's simulation score is flawless.

“Four, two.”

Seventy drops, seventy kills. She's the best; not just among her class of fellow cadets at the Academy—she holds the sim score record at the LA Shatterdome. All of her instructors, her commanding officers, they have nothing but praise for her.

“Four, one.”

When Marshal John Jones contacted her shortly after her dad's funeral, she laughed at his suggestion of joining the PPDC. She didn't have a military background, or any kind of relevant experience to speak of. She was just a college dropout.

“Four, two.”

But...it was a job offer. And an opportunity to actually do something about the Kaiju, other than simply hate them from afar. So she agreed, working tirelessly—first, to catch up to the other cadets in the Jaeger Academy, and then to surpass them. Which she had.

“Four, zero.”

She had the makings of a great Ranger. All she needed was a drift compatible co-pilot.

...Which was easier said than done.

“Rrrgh!” Alex thrusts the wooden staff into her sparring partner's face, halting it mere inches from his nose.

He visibly swallows, and stumbles backwards as Officer Lane calls out the final score.

“Four, one.”

“This is ridiculous,” Alex seethes as she moves to step off the training mat. The cadet is quick to get out of her way,  his expression that of a kicked puppy.

“She's not talking about you,” Officer Lane says in an effort to reassure him. She gestures to the exit. He offers a choppy nod before retreating from the combat room, pushing past those still in line for the tryouts.

Alex doesn't bother to watch him go—he's just another disappointment, in an incredibly long line of disappointments. Instead, she takes a seat on one of the metal benches lining the arena.

Lane purses her lips. “We still have more cadets to get through,” she reminds her.

Alex breathes deeply.

“Somehow, I doubt any of them will work out,” she makes a point to turn and glare at Marshal Jones as she says this.

The man in question moves from his position at the edge of the room to stand next to Lane. His arms are crossed, expression neutral as he addresses her.

“Something on your mind, Danvers?” he asks. Alex lets out a sarcastic chuckle and shakes her head, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees.

“As if you don't know,” she says.

Officer Lane makes a show of consulting her tablet.

“I'm recommending a ten minute break,” she announces diplomatically. There's a collective murmur of relief from the line of combatants.

Alex tries not to take it personally.

“I'll be back with a fresh batch soon,” Lane tells them. She raises her hand in salute. “Marshal. Ranger.”

Alex snorts at the mention of her rank—how can you be a real Ranger, if you've never been in an actual Jaeger?—while John politely returns the gesture.

“Officer Lane.”

The shorter woman leaves, and then it's just the two of them. Alex's frustration has cooled off enough for her to be embarrassed by her outburst, as well as her behavior towards John.

She's about to apologize, but John steps forward.  

“I don't pick them, you know,” he says, correctly guessing the source of her frustration. It's uncanny, how well he can read her. “Officer Lane assembles the list.”

Her temper flares at the poor excuse. “But the list needs your approval before it's finalized,” Alex counters, fixing him with an accusatory glare.

She waits for him to deny it—to deny the implication that he's deliberately interfereing with the tryouts.

John, though, remains silent.

She stands. Starts to pace. Wishes Lane had never let slip that the random candidates weren't actually all that random.

“I don't understand, John,” she says after a time.

John gives her a warning look.

“Marshal Jones,” she corrects herself before continuing. “Why are you doing this? Why go to the trouble of recruiting me if you don't have any intention of actually letting me do my job?” John opens his mouth to respond, but she cuts him off. “Or did you just. Never have any intention of letting me progress through basic training?”

“Alex, that's absurd,” John says, forgetting his own rule of maintaining formality. “Of course we wanted you to—”

“Continue my dad's research,” she guesses. The words come out quieter than she expected. “...Were you just looking for another Danvers, to replace the one you'd lost? Is that it?”

She's honestly not sure she wants to hear the answer. She's come to respect John too much—as her commanding officer, as well as the man who was there for her, in ways her own father never was.

John doesn't immediately answer; the combat room is silent, save for his audible breathing.  

Alex silently braces herself for the worst.

“That is not it,” John says quietly, taking a seat on the bench Alex had just recently vacated. His posture deflates somewhat; he's no longer Marshal Jones, decorated Ranger, former pilot of the famed Manhunter Red.

He's just John. A mentor. A friend. A man she once caught grumbling at a vending machine that had dared to withhold a valuable pack of Oreos from him.

“When I first reached out to you, after your father died...I'll admit, I was hoping you'd be interested in continuing his research.” Alex slowly nods, clenching her fists so tightly that her nails bite into her palms.

“But it quickly became obvious that you had other plans,” John goes on. “Not everyone was thrilled with your decision to pursue becoming a Jaeger pilot,” he says. “But your record speaks for itself. Your name is what got you in, yes,” he admits, but then he points to her. “You are why you got to stay.”

Alex stares, momentarily speechless. And then, to her horror, her eyes start to sting. Don't cry—not here, not now.

“I—” she swallows. “That's, um.” She hurries to wipe her eyes. “Then I don't...I still don't understand why...” she gestures to the combat room.

John sighs, and looks at the floor.

“You're an asset,” he tells her. “Your work with the J-Tech division has been invaluable. We need you here, on the ground.”

“...No, you don't,” Alex argues, voice still rough with emotion, “there are plenty of actual J-Tech engineers available to do the work. John, my sim scores are the best in the Shatterdome,” she's practically pleading now, “why are you so determined to keep me out of a Jaeger?!”

“Because I know you, Alex, and I know how strongly you feel about the Kaiju, about your father's death,” he tells her, turning to face her at last. “You cannot bring that kind of emotion into the drift. It's dangerous.”

Now it's Alex who has to look away, because he's not wrong.

“So this is just...what. Humoring me?”

John at least has the decency to look ashamed.

“I know you think I have the final say, here,” he tells her, “but even I have people to answer to—and they want to keep looking for a co-pilot.”

John finishes, and Alex lets his words sink in. It's...a lot, frankly; a conversation she'd been dreading for what feels like ages...and yet desperate to have out. That doubting voice at the back of her head is silent, for once.

However, as she hears actual voices echoing off the metal walls of the outer hallway, she realizes this...maybe wasn't the best time and place for it.

John clears his throat as Officer Lane enters the combat room once more, and Alex hopes it isn't too obvious, that she's displayed actual human emotions. She has a reputation to uphold, after all.

“Are we ready to resume the tryouts?” she asks, ever the consummate professional.

John nods, and crosses his arms. He's 'Marshal Jones' once more.

“Yes.”

Lane motions for the next batch of candidates to file in. Alex takes her place back on the mat, stretching her arms, running through some basic drills with her staff. Shake it off, she tells herself as she struggles to readjust her headspace. She's not paying attention to the group assembling behind her.

“Alright, four strikes mark a win,” Lane starts to explain, presumably to the next cadet on the list. Alex can hear them drop their boots on the edge of the mat. “Remember, this is not a fight, it's a dialogue; it's about compatibility.”

Alex shakes out her shoulders, loosens up her stance. Focus. Deal with everything else...later. Satisfied, and as ready as she can hope to be, given...everything, she hefts her staff and turns to face her opponent.

“Begi—”

“What the hell?!” Alex yells.

Kara smiles at her from across the mat.

“Good to see you too, Alex.”

Kara can tell Alex has a million questions as they silently circle one another on the training mat.

“—didn't even know Danvers had a sister, and the list—”

“—wasn't listed under 'Danvers', she used some sort of alias—”

“—lied? How is that even possible—”

Officer Lane and Marshal Jones bicker back-and-forth, but Kara ignores them, narrowing her focus to her opponent.

The sound of Alex's heartbeat fills her ears—fast, but steady, nearly in synch with her own.

“Hhhhrrraah!” Alex lunges forward, staff raised. Kara is quick to bring her own staff up to block the hit.

The two weapons connect with a loud thwack!

“Does mom know?” Alex asks. Kara shakes her head.

“Not yet,” she tells her, as both step backward and sink once more into their starting positions.

“...No point,” one of the other cadets steps forward and calls out the score from the edge of the arena, having realized that Lane and Jones aren't paying attention. Kara notes—with mild amusement—that they've drawn quite a crowd.  

There's a beat as they both take a breath.

Alex charges forward again, and Kara is ready.

“How did you find out?” Alex grunts as she swings her staff. Kara spins out of the way, ready with a counter strike.

“Junk mail,” Kara breathes.

Alex falters.

“What?”

“Rrraahh!” Kara executes a sudden jab that ends inches from Alex's forehead. Alex blinks in surprise.

“One, zero!” the cadet calls out.

Kara beams, and hears Alex's heartrate pick up. Oooooh, she's maaaaad...

Alex breathes and rolls her shoulders as they reset. Kara waits patiently for her to drop into her opening stance.

When she does, she can see a dangerous glint in her sister's eye, accompanied by a wry grin.

Thumpthumpthump.

The message is clear: whatever hesitance or distraction that existed at the outset of the match is gone; Alex is ready to fight.

And Kara can't help it—she smiles. She's just so...happy, to see Alex, to have an actual honest interaction with her for the first time in what feels like ages.

...Okay, sure, the fact that it's a fight does sort of undermine the 'warmth and fuzziness' of it all, but Kara doesn't care.

It feels like coming home.

She slides her right foot forward, contemplating a low, sweeping attack.

But Alex is already there, in her immediate space—Kara is forced to tumble backwards. She hits the mats hard, using the impact and her momentum to create some distance.

She surges upright, only to come face-to-face with the end of Alex's staff.

“One, one!”

“So, what—you found out about me, and then suddenly decided you wanted to start killing Kaiju?” Alex asks.

They're both breathing a little heavier now, the resets between points shorter.

Kara strikes; Alex blocks.

“I don't care about killing Kaiju,” Kara grunts. Alex taps her on the bicep.

“Two, one!”

“Then you're in the wrong profession,” Alex tells her through gritted teeth, bringing her staff down in a swooping arc. Kara leans out of its path and catches the back of Alex's knee.

“Two, two!”

They're moving fast now, no longer bothering with resetting—the combat room is filled with the sound of their labored breathing, interrupted only by the rhythmic hits of the staffs.

“I joined because I want to help.”

“Hhhrrrph!”

“There's—rrrg—there's got to be a better way, but until we find it—”

“Rrraagh!”

“Three, two!”

“We have to protect people.”

THWACK!

“Three, three!”

“And I have to protect you.”

They both stagger backwards—ostensibly from the force of a blocked hit, but Kara wonders if maybe, it's her short, breathless speech that has sent Alex physically reeling.

“...That's my line,” Alex finally says, winded.

Kara doesn't reply; she's thinking. She's watching. Alex is the better fighter—she knows this, can feel it in the way her sister moves and plans her strikes.

But Kara has several inches on her, as well as raw, physical strength. She knows there's a way she could win this—could reach four points before Alex.

But she thinks about the purpose of the fight—it's a dialogue. It's about compatibility.

Alex moves, and Kara moves with her, no longer looking for openings so much as she's looking for the appropriate reaction to Alex's action.

She can see the surprise on Alex's face as she misses several point opportunities. Kara grins; she's confident her sister will figure it out.

And she's right—it takes only a few more obvious dodges for Alex to catch on to Kara's game. That it's no longer about points, or winning, or even fighting.

It's about knowing that Alex will keep her hits low, forcing Kara to give up her height advantage. That she'll rely on her speed when Kara risks a poor defense to land a hard blow. That Kara will know this, know that she's at a disadvantage, that Alex is simply better, so she has to be smarter. She has to make that wind-up big, and slow, and obvious, to draw Alex in—

Kara twists. Alex pins her staff with her own, but she's stuck; she can't throw Kara. Instead, Kara throws her, but their staffs are still crossed. Kara has to follow through with the roll, landing on the mat just a hair slower than Alex—

“Hhff!”

“Rraagh!”

They're both kneeling, staffs raised, the tips in identical strike positions—an almost exact mirrored image.

“...Four...four?”

There's a pause, after the cadet announces the final score.

Then.

The crowd breaks out in a delighted cheer. It's a perfect draw.

Kara lets out a wheezing laugh. It's proof of what she knew to be true...what she knows to be true.

“Drift compatible,” Alex breathes.

In the early evening, the LA Shatterdome hangar lights dim from their bright, daytime yellow to a glowing orange; a gentle reminder that—technically speaking—the day is done, and you should probably get some sleep, if you can.

No one really pays much attention to the nighttime ritual, though. Techs and mechanics work around the clock, making sure the Jaegers and the equipment that keeps them functioning are ready to go at a moment's notice. Rangers are a little more inconspicuous with their insomnia, but not much.

A handful of pilots loiter aimlessly near the foot of one of the Jaegers, just casually chatting. About what, Alex can't tell from her vantage point.

She's situated far above the hangar floor, watching from a darkened section of scaffolding, leaning heavily against the metal railing. It's...pretty, in its own way, the hangar at this time of night. The grey, rust-streaked walls of the Shatterdome aren't much to look at, certainly, but every now and then, the welding equipment used on the Jaegers will send a spray of sparks cascading down to the floor, the searing white fading to a soft red on its way down.

Alex watches one such shower pour down the side of Red Tornado's right leg before taking a swig from the glass bottle in her hand. She hasn't had a beer in...a very long time. But she feels like she needs it.

The matches would've been enough to physically run her down, and the conversation with John would drain what little mental energy she had left. So the sudden appearance of her sister, and the added revelation of, hey, you two are ridiculously Drift Compatible, on top of everything else is sending her into a kind of anxiety tailspin. Maybe not as intense as some of her previous spirals, but. It's certainly...a lot.

She brings the bottle of beer to her lips and tips it back, making a face as the liquid slides down her throat. It's lukewarm and awful. A little like the stale air in the hangar.

But she's unlikely to find anything better, so she forces down another sip.

“Ugh. Warm beer. So gross,” Alex chokes and coughs violently at the sound of an unexpected visitor. “Am I right?”

“Jesus Kara!” Alex exclaims, sputtering as she whirls to face her sister. How did she not hear her coming?

Kara, for her part, shows zero sign of contrition for startling Alex. In fact, she smiles, and offers a downright jaunty wave of greeting before moving to stand next to her.  

“I assume it's warm, anyway” Kara completely ignores Alex's glower, and settles her elbows on the railing. “Because mine is.” She raises her own glass bottle, and Alex is almost surprised, but then she catches 'cream soda' label.

She rolls her eyes, and tries to be discreet about wiping her mouth. “Found the commisary, I see,” she remarks in a flat tone.

“Well, duh,” Kara says and takes a sip, not rising to Alex's subtle ribbing. “I was actually looking for you, since you decided to just take off after the match.” There's a note of irritation in Kara's voice, but before Alex can react, she continues, “I...kinda thought you'd maybe want to catch up. Since we haven't really talked in...” she trails off, and that's fine by Alex, because she can't really remember the last time the talked either. “...But you just. Disappeared.” She frowns, and eyes Alex. “To sulk and drink warm beer alone, apparently.”

Alex bristles. “I'm not sulking.”

“Uh, yes. You are.”

“I'm...processing,” she decides, and Kara snorts, which sets her teeth on edge. “No, no, you don't get to do that, Kara,” she says, pointing a finger at her sister. Kara blinks, taken aback. “You don't get to dismiss this as me being sensitive, or overreacting. You just...you just show up, out of the blue, suddenly training to be a Jaeger pilot? And I'm just supposed to, what. Be thrilled?”

Kara stares at her. “Uh, kind of, yeah.”

Alex shakes her head. “You lied. You dropped out of school, you lied, and when mom finds out, she's gonna give me hell because you—”

“You did the exact same thing,” Kara protests.

“I didn't lie,” Alex asserts.

“Oh, come on,” Kara scoffs. “Government contract work?” she gestures to the Jaegers, and Alex scowls, not at all pleased to lose ground in the argument.

“It's technically true,” her mutters, turning her gaze back to the hangar.

“Yeah, right.”

They both lapse into frustrated silence, the tension dropping from a rolling boil to merely a simmer. Still there, still hot, but curtailed.

Unsurprisingly, it's Kara who breaks first, with a quiet, flat, “So. You're really not happy to see me?”

Alex drops her head forward, and groans internally. Trust Kara to land such a low, effective blow.

“Of course I'm happy to see you,” Alex says, because shockingly, beneath all of the extenuating circumstances...she is. Genuinely happy to see Kara.

“Coulda fooled me,” Kara says softly. And then, after a beat, “I mean. Warm beer?”

Alex doesn't laugh—she's still irritated—but she does allow herself a wry smile.

“Well. It was either the warm beer, or whatever the Kaznians have fermenting in the communal sinks,” she says, and Kara lets out a surprised bark of laughter. “So it's not actually that bad.”

“That is...oddly reassuring?”

“Mmm,” is all Alex says, around another mouthful of the warm beer in question.  

And Kara waits a bit—maybe to let the alcohol settle pleasantly in her bloodstream, or to let the simmering tension cool off—before she asks, with a hopeful note in her voice,

“So...truce?”

Alex sighs. The tension has cooled, and she is starting to appreciate this warm beer a bit more...but. She's not...she's not ready to—

“Please, Alex. I need your faith. I literally can't do this without you,” Kara says. Alex looks at her. Really looks at her.

“I don't understand,” she admits, recalling half a lifetime of growing up with Kara, who only ever had compassion for these...these monsters. “Why are you here, Kara? What's changed?”

“Nothing's changed,” Kara breathes, and straightens up to cross her arms. “It's just like I told you. I want to protect people, while we figure out a different way to deal with the Kaiju. A better way.”

Alex blinks, surprised that such a...firm, commanding tone is coming from her younger sister.

“...What about reporting?” Alex asks. Kara closes her eyes and takes another deep breath.

“I can't keep sitting back, doing nothing. Please, Alex. Please...”

Kara opens her eyes and turns to face her. There's now a desperate, pleading note to her words. That isn't surprising. Nor is the sheer determination in her gaze.

The sadness, though...

That.

That makes Alex grip the metal railing with her free hand as she takes a deep breath in through her nose.

Damn it. Damn it.

She's fourteen years old again, sitting next to Kara on an uncomfortable cot, playing Go Fish with a deck of cards missing the Ace of Spades and half the Hearts. Or, they would be playing Go Fish, if not for the social worker showing up to interrupt their game. I'm sorry, Kara. We can keep looking, but I think it's time we discussed a more...permanent foster placement for you.

And Alex knows—just as she knew nine years ago—that she's not going to leave Kara. She can't.

“You're telling mom,” she mutters in defeat, taking a long swig of beer.

Kara's yelp of delight is loud enough to echo off the hangar walls, and draw some stares from the Rangers down below. Alex waves them off, while insisting that Kara keep it down.

“Can we talk about the match now?” Kara asks, grinning widely. “Because I want to talk about the match. A perfect draw. Drift Compatible—!”

Kara's enthusiasm is infectious, of course, and Alex finally allows herself to feel...happy, about this development.

Because, God, finally. Drift Compatibility.

But reservations lurk just beyond the edges of her good mood. Unresolved arguments, unspoken jealousies, unpacked emotional baggage...all of that would come into the Drift. John's earlier concern comes to mind, and apprehension taints her relief.

But, she silently reasons, trying to quiet her doubts, it's Kara—it's her sister. Kara knows her better than anyone else, and vice versa.

It'll be fine, she decides.

It has to be.

When Kara suddenly wakes, disoriented and surrounded by red light, she thinks it's just the dreams again.

But the strange red light persists, and it's followed by a loud voice, stilted and metallic.

“DANVERS WARNING, REPORT TO BAY 03, LEVEL B-52.”

An alert screen appears in the middle of their small dormitory, the holographic image casting flickering blue light on the walls—a nice change from the angry red—as the announcement continues, “KAIJU. CODE NAME: BIZARRO. CATEGORY THREE.”

Kara scrambles out of bed, her prior grogginess forgotten.

“Alex—hey, Alex!” Kara gives the underside of the top bunk a solid shove. Her sister groans in protest. “Wake up! We're being deployed!”

“Rrrrrrg,” is all Alex says, though she does roll over and blearily blink at the holograph alert.

Kara decides she won't have to physically remove her sister from her bunk—she appears to be...well, if not fully awake, at least steadily getting there. So Kara turns her attention to pulling on her flight coveralls, grabbing her boots, and downing a glass of orange juice.

Simultaneously.

“You're gonna spill that,” Alex's voice is still rough with sleep. She swings her legs over the side of the bunk and rubs her face. “And then you're gonna have to explain to Morse why you're covered in orange juice.”

Kara rolls her eyes, but does set the glass down on the short stretch of counter that serves as their 'kitchen', because okay, she doesn't want to show up to her first Kaiju fight drenched in OJ.

She hastily ties the laces on her boots, then finishes the orange juice in one single gulp, before tossing the glass in their small, shared sink. She hears a thump behind her—Alex is now out of bed, and standing upright—and prepares to shuffle out of the way so that Alex can splash some cold water on her face.

“God, I miss the apartment,” Alex comments as Kara narrowly avoids colliding with her. Kara hums in agreement. The oppressive metal boxes that served as the Shatterdome's dormitories made the old apartment downright luxurious by comparison, and no amount of cheery throw pillows or blankets that Kara draped over the bunks could make the small space bearable for anything beyond sleeping.

“Next time we're on leave,” Kara says, helpfully handing Alex her coveralls from one of the drawers under the bottom bunk, “we should go back to Midvale. Full size bathroom, comfortable beds—”

“Except I'm pretty sure they're actually smaller than our bunks,” Alex points out, and Kara chuckles. Alex is...probably right.

“DANVERS WARNING, REPORT TO BAY 03.”

Kara's glance slides back to the holographic readout, getting a good look at Bizarro. A category three Kaiju...one of the biggest on record, thus far.

She takes a deep breath. The creature's blue-grey hide is cracked in a kind of geometric pattern—it's almost rune-like, squares and lines and dots. The exposed flesh beneath glows an unsettling green. More unsettling still is the face—two small, piecing eyes are situated too far apart on its oblong head, the center of the face like a kind of broken mirror, as the glowing green cracks converge where a snout should be. Countless jagged fangs protrude from a wide, pulsing red mouth, completing the horrifying tableau.

That's what they're up against. That's what they're going to have to take down.

No euphemisms, she tells herself silently. Kill it. You're going to have to kill it.

It doesn't sit well with her, but. She focuses on all of the people in danger—all of the people counting on them, to push the creature back into the sea.

“Hey, Kara,” Alex's soft voice interrupts her thoughts. She turns to see her sister, dressed and ready at the door. “You okay?”

“...Yeah, yeah,” Kara nods, and forces a smile. “I'm fine.” She takes a deep breath, grateful for the way Alex's gaze softens with understanding.

There's a thump on the door just then, and a gruff voice calls, “Come on, Danvers...es. Time for the drop!”

Alex rolls her eyes.

“Duty calls,” she says with a wry grin, tugging open the door. A handful of techs hurry down the hall, and Kara and Alex quickly follow them, boots clanging on the metal walkway.

Kara watches, silently impressed as a change comes over her sister. Alex's posture straightens, and her eyes narrow with intense focus. You'd never know that her only experience with Kaijus came from hours spent in a Sim—she looks as though she was born to Jaeger piloting, with an undeniable air of expertise.

Kara does her best to mimic her, hoping that Alex's easy confidence is contagious.

“Knock 'em dead, Danvers!” one of the passing techs calls. Alex and Kara both nod, and Kara hastily responds,

“Yeah, gonna kick some Kaiju ass!”

Which causes Alex to lose her cool and dissolve into laughter, right as they arrive at their destination: Bay Three, Level B-52 Deployment Deck.  

“What? What?” Kara demands, trying to sound offended, all while recognizing that her attempt at sounding tough has fallen horribly flat. “Come on, that's what pilots say!”

“No they don't,” a tech in white coveralls tells her helpfully, looking just as amused as Alex.  The large, metal bay doors slide shut as Alex and Kara come to stand in the middle of the deployment deck, a ring of equipment and screens forming around them as the techs rush into position.

“Smith would,” another tech pipes up, wheeling a white case over from the far side of the room. The blue lights overhead almost make the surface of the case glow. “In fact, pretty sure Smith did, last time Omega Hedron was deployed.”

“Yeah, and then Omega Hedron got their ass kicked,” the first tech finishes. He looks at Kara, his smile sardonic. “So make sure you don't end up like Smith, kid.”

“Right, got it,” Kara nods, and starts tugging off her coveralls and boots at the techs' behest. It's a little ridiculous, throwing the coveralls on for an eight minute walk down to the deployment deck. However, she's not sure she would've been able to mimic much of Alex's cool confidence while wearing only the circuitry suit.

Thankfully, she doesn't have to stand in the wetsuit-like getup for long, as the techs open the white cases to reveal the real star of the show—the second layer of the Drivesuit.

The battle armor.

Well. Polycarbonate shell, to be precise. But as the techs pull out the various pieces, it's very obviously body armor.

Kara watches as the first tech snaps the components into place over Alex's circuitry suit, and starts a little when the second tech suddenly appears next to her, holding out the chest plate.

“Here, move your arms,” the tech helpfully suggests. Kara does as she's told, and can feel the solid CLICK of the armor settling into place.

The techs repeat the procedure for each piece. The woman handling Kara's armor senses her mild apprehension, and starts explaining all of the parts as she goes.

Kara, of course, knows the purpose and function of every piece—or, she would normally, but she's filled with nervous energy, so she appreciates the tech's calm, clear information.

She does her best to pay attention, but she finds her mind wandering. To thoughts of the Kaiju and its glowing green skin; to vague memories of the dream she'd been having, just before the alarms had sounded, and that searing red light...

She looks over at Alex, and of course her sister is the picture of professionalism. She doubts her mind is scattered at all—in fact, she's probably already mentally mapping out how the battle is going to go down, prepping for every contingency.

It's then, under the the blue lights of the deployment deck, that Kara's forced to admit that she and Alex are very different from the two young women who had left Midvale, years ago.

No matter how hard Kara tried to emulate her, she'd never quite match her sister. Alex's time in the Jaeger Academy had hardened her into an ideal soldier, her drive and perfectionism allowing her to progress quickly, if not necessarily easily.

She was no slouch when it came to the science, either. The tech handling her drivesuit doesn’t have to explain anything because Alex not only has a masterful grasp of the J-Tech—she helped design some of it.

Kara, meanwhile, had always struggled through the academic classes required of all new recruits. It wasn't a question of intellect—Kara was plenty smart enough—but she just wasn't...interested, in all of the technical jargon and proper procedure.

Honestly, the only time she felt like she really applied herself was during the Kaiju Studies courses—but even then, the curriculum was severely lacking, and the information decidedly...biased.

“Got all that?” Alex asks from beside her as the tech wraps up her explanation, shaking her from her reminiscing. Kara gives her a thumbs up.

“Eighty percent of it, anyway,” she says with an anxious chuckle.

“You're lucky,” the tech tells Kara with a proud smile, and casts a glance over at Alex. “These Drivesuits are brand new, based on Ranger Danvers' designs.”

Kara turns, surprised. She knew Alex had worked on various J-Tech projects—she didn't realize, though, that they'd actually be wearing some of the equipment she designed.

“Really?”

“New material,” Alex says with a modest shrug. “Nth metal—about 40% more conductive than what we were using before.”

“Basically, it plays much nicer with the Circuitry Suit,” the tech adds helpfully, and Alex nods. Kara reaches over and gives Alex a playful nudge on the elbow, much to the apparent annoyance of the tech who's still trying to finish putting their armor on.

“Did you know? That we'd get to use the new suits?”

Alex shakes her head. “Had no idea they'd be ready so soon.”

The tech takes a step back after locking the final piece into place. “Okay, you're gonna feel a little pressure as the Spinal Clamps engage.”

Kara doesn't even have time to nod before there's a sudden pinch at her neck that radiates down the center of her back.

“Alright Rangers,” the first tech steps back and consults a screen. “Time for the helmets and Relay Gel.”

Kara turns and shares a glance with Alex—this is it. The final piece, before they continue on to the service lift, and then, the Conn-Pod.

She smirks.

“Danvers Sisters, yes we can.” She extends a fist, and Alex snorts.

“Oh my god. Nerd.”

“Takes one to know one,” Kara shoots back. “Come on. You're seriously gonna leave me hanging?  Now?”

“If you can't do it, Danvers can,” Alex finishes the cheer and bumps Kara's fist with her own, but not before treating her sister to a very obvious eyeroll.

“Anytime, Rangers!”

With that, Kara pulls the helmet over her head, hating how close her own breathing feels in the darkened interior. She counts backwards from ten.

It won't be long, just until the Relay Gel drains...

She barely reaches six before the yellow material drains from the visor down the back of the suit. Both Alex and Kara turn to the first tech.

He taps a few buttons on the keyboard. Checks a readout.

“All set!” he tells them.

Kara exhales.

Time to go.

The ride in the service lift seems both too long, and too short. Slowly yet suddenly, Kara and Alex are entering the Danvers Warning Conn-Pod, maneuvering into position over the mobility controls, and standing still as the spinal rigs are lowered into place, and life support systems are attached to the back of their helmets.

“Good morning, Danvers,” A cheerful, feminine voice greets them as soon as the HUD appears. “And Danvers.”

“Morning, Morse,” Kara hears Alex's voice over the comms.

“Hi Megan,” Kara adds her own greeting.

“Sleep well?” The J-Tech's face appears on the screen, along with the rest of LOCCENT. She keeps the conversation easy and light as the final diagnostics are run.

In fact, everyone has kept things easy and light, from the moment the alert came through. It's enough to make Kara momentarily forget the stakes; it's merely routine. A chore to be completed.

They'll stop the Kaiju. Return to the Shatterdome. Probably in time for a late brunch, even.

“Not especially,” Alex tells her. “Kara snores.”

“I do not,” Kara guffaws.

Megan laughs, but is interrupted by Marshal Jones.

“Engage drop, Ms. Morse.”

Morse clears her throat. “Engaging drop, sir.”

Kara can hear the faint click of keys being pressed, switches being thrown. It's soon drowned out by the sound of her own breathing filling her helmet.

“Securing Conn-Pod,” Morse says, her demeanor now purely professional. Mechanisms whir and metal locks into place; the Conn-Pod echoes with the sounds of heavy machinery moving.

“Release for drop,” Alex says, and Kara remembers that's her cue.

“Danvers Warning, ready for the big drop,” she informs LOCCENT.

There's a light shudder, and then stronger tremor as the Conn-Pod moves. Kara can easily imagine it, having watched from afar plenty of times; the Conn-Pod, or head of the Jaeger, would be placed in position on a set of tall rails. Once the clamps locked on, the Conn-Pod would drop.

She listens for the telltale lock of the clamps—there it is—and now three, two—

FWISSSH!

The Conn-Pod falls, faster than Kara expects. And yet, as she lets out a surprised whoop, she finds that the sensation isn't unpleasant—it's almost...fun.

She looks over to see how Alex is handling it, but it's hard to turn in the rig, and the glare of the visor on the helmet renders Alex's face invisible.

Maybe I can ask her in the Drift, Kara silently jokes to herself, remembering that they'll soon share literal headspace.

The Conn-Pod slows before reaching the shoulders of the Jaeger, and settles gently into place. Another surprise, as Kara would not have expected the heavy metal head to glide so seamlessly.

“Coupling confirmed, sir,” Morse's voice is back on the comms.

“Engage pilot-to-pilot protocol,” Marshal Jones orders.

“Engaging now.”

The Conn-Pod rotates—or, rather, the Jaeger rotates. Kara can actually feel the difference, the increased weight of it, as the entire apparatus maneuvers into place. The onboard AI announces the pilot-to-pilot protocol sequence. Through the HUD, Kara watches as the bay doors open, and the Jaeger is moved forward.

“DANVERS WARNING LAUNCH, BAY THREE.”

It's early morning—night, really. The sky beyond the bay doors is black, interrupted by tiny yellow dots of light on the horizon. A city, sleeping.

“Danvers Warning, ready and alligned sir,” A J-Tech Kara doesn't recongize pronounces them ready.

“Rangers, this is Marshal Jones,” and Kara can't help but smile. As if John needs to let us know it's him, she thinks. “Prepare for neural handshake.”

“Starting in fifteen seconds,” Morse tells them. “Fourteen, thirteen...”

Morse's countdown continues, but Kara isn't listening. She's thinking solely of the Drift, and the Jaeger tech currently connected right to her brain.

She turns, hoping to catch Alex's eye. Maybe the glare is gone...

She imagines her sister's determined frown, those narrowed, focused eyes.

She had expressed concern—well. Expressed was being generous. Her sister maybe, passingly mentioned that though they were Drift compatible, there could still be hiccups. Sharing headspace was...no small thing.

Kara breathes.

She's not worried. They'll be fine.

“Nine, eight...”

“Seven, six...”

Alex breathes.

She's worried. She doesn't want to screw this up. But John's words ring in her mind.

“You cannot bring that kind of emotion into the Drift. It's dangerous.”

Her heart sits in her throat and pounds uncomfortably. She's acutely aware that the Drivesuit's telemetry is going to let all of LOCCENT know she's nervous. So much for her carefully cultivated reputation.

...Then again, maybe she could pass it off as adrenaline.

She shakes her head, and as she does so, she happens to catch her sister's eye.

Alex isn't at all surprised that Kara is beaming, her wide smile positively brimming with silent encouragement.

It's enough to make her momentarily forget her worries.

“Three, two...”

Alex smiles back.

“Here we go,” she tells her sister.

“One. Neural handshake initiated.”

---

“Marsh—Marshal Jones,”

“What is it, Morse?”

“Something's wrong.”

TBC(?)

---

NOTE(S):

- Fudged some of the ‘official’ PacRim timeline/Kaiju attacks but from what I recall it’s *generally* pretty close. - Title is taken from a quote by Ishirō Honda.  - There are technically two more parts I had planned in my original outline but I’m simply garbage at multichapter fics so no promises. 

[casadefreewill]

Daily Fics

(Fics I read throughout the day yesterday and enjoyed)

Witch’s Familiar by Kazel_Menra

Marinette is a clumsy witch, with almost no magical power, but has high hopes to one day be a certified stitch witch. Her first step towards her goal is summoning a familiar, but the real question is will she survive the test?

I found Hawkmoth’s plan in this a little confusing, but just going in with the assumption that whatever he’s doing is syphoning a bunch of magic power into himself and making himself stronger works well enough. Pretty much what it says on the tin, a witch familiar au, this time with a splash of childhood friends and magical amnesia.

★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

metamorphosis by peachcitt ( @peachcitt )

He screams, but the sound is muffled, far away, and Marinette takes a moment to-

Breathe.

Push the memory away.

Accept the fact that she’s alone.

or

three years after hawkmoth's defeat, marinette is still trying to figure out her version of normal. there's also sleepovers.

CHAPTER 2!!

Marinette goes to class and The Mystery begins to unfold! A new corrupt butterfly user appears and no idea as to how or why!

Here I am in my conspiracist chair like ‘is Adrien the new Hawkmoth? What? No, he wouldn’t, right? There’s no way-and he seemed surprised by the akuma. But . . . politer less demanding male voice? And who else could have gotten close to the miraculous? (He was ‘kind of busy’ could that mean- and the ‘Enemies’ tag-) — it can’t be Felix right- he wouldn’t play Adrien for that long, not to his friends (that would be tagged right? Unless not tagging for spoilers) , but did Chat like die die? She saw him- but miraculous ladybug can bring him back as long as it happened due to a miraculous- it’s probably just trama- but something happened— maybe Marinette went crazy after chat died and revealed his identity and she imagined or sentimonstered ‘Adrien’ into existence!!! (no wait that doesn’t make sense . . .)’

@peachcitt and @anna-scribbles your comments got me paranoid >:|

★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

More than just a handsome face by 11paruline44 ( @11paruline44 )

Marinette had been preparing for this date—not-a-date for weeks. After all, she'd promised Alya that this time, she was going to do it. She was going to Tell Him™. So, naturally, she could have sworn she'd have thought of every worst-case scenario possible. However, none of these worst-case scenarios included the possibility that he'd have been asked out twice already that day...

Marinette gets convinced that if she’s just another person that asks Adrien out that day she’ll come across as just another fan and a horrible friend to which Adrien replies ‘wtf no, your amazing and you actually know me and we’re good friends! Also yes please I would love to go out with you! (Also also does My Lady have my pictures all over her walls 😏)’ 🐞: 😳😖🤬

★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

MaRinEttE dESeRvEs bEttEr by miraculuna

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had enough of Adrien acting like a doormat, so she decided to change schools. Everything in her life became so much better from then...

Ok, I gotta admit, I think crack fic salt on salt fics are actually pretty funny. Just the very sarcastic tone most of them have is fun to read. Anyways, adding this to my “salt decompression pile”/stories to read when I really need to just laugh at how absurd salt fics are.

[undertale-writing-times]

maybe water, depending on which gym leader you are, seeing as it depends on which gym leader you get a certain amount of pokemon, but for the sake of it i'll give u six, no specific region

why you would have these pokemon + my reasons

01. milotic ( ace ) ( water type ). reason; milotic is a beautiful, and rare pokemon to catch and evolve. js like u, it's rare to see an undertale writer much less one who does half if not a lot of the aus. your writing itself is also a form of beauty.

02. frillish ( water and ghost type ), perhaps later on it would evolve into jellicent. reason; none, just jelly.

03. vaporean ( water type ). reason; i love the eeveelutions, and on the topic of it, vaporean came to mind. it's special ability allows itself to cloak itself in water. anyone who scrolls through tumblr normally wouldn't find you, unless they search for a specific tag or what-not. hence you're pretty much invincible

04. lapras ( water type ). reason; idk, i feel like you love adventuring since you take on so many aus writing for them, having a lapras would help you on adventures out on the sea of content

05. sharpedo ( water type ). reason; your name, shark. that's it.

06. shellos ( shiny ) ( water ), later on evolving into a gastrodon ( water and ground ). reason; i love it, cute, adorable. think you'll like it, i mean why wouldn't you.

why did i pick water type though? " At times, it can be so quiet and calming, at other times, water can turn into a roaring monster easily capable of whisking away your life. The ocean, a river, a rainstorm, each can evoke a vast array of emotions. Water can be calming- tranquil, playful joy, intensity and fear. " water is often times underestimated, people don't expect much of it. when first looking into your tumblr account, it seems like nothing out of the ordinary, which is somewhat true. but as water is calm, playful joy and such, so is your writing, reading it can give the reader a calm, happy mind. other times; like if you post angst, it gives the reader the feeling of intensity and sadness; which usually comes w fear, fear of not knowing what exactly the angst can hold.

anw most, if not all of the pokemon though, is bcs water go splish splash. and pokemon aesthetic or js bcs yeah.

splish splash

Whoaa :000 you put so much work into this!

This makes a lot of sense! Plus, funnily enough, I love to swim ^^ my mom said I was a mermaid cause I used to not want to leave the water after getting in.

Heck, one time my mom had to break ICE in the pool so I could jump in and swim around haha.

I like milotic as my ace, that makes a lot of sense and I could totally see that happening.

Almost makes me wanna write something lol

[kakusu-shipping]

Request Rules

General

Fandom must be at least mentioned on the F/O List

If I can’t/don’t want to do your request I will just delete it

^Unless you’re off anon in which I’ll answer privately why

I tend to ramble more with headcanons so if you want more for less ask for Headcanons

Fics may not follow the prompt as I tend to get caught in the scene and flow, so if you send a prompt and I go off base just send it again

I may not always write a fic when you ask for one, it happens

Honestly? A poly request has more likelihood to get written

Sick fics as well are my kryptonite and will be given bias priority

Yandere is welcomed and encouraged

Requests for sequels or revisiting a concept are welcomed

NO NSFW

Character X Character

ANY SHIP MAY BE REQUESTED (we are proship safe here)

The more characters the better

I am biased; Ships I like may get better treatment and written faster

I will write Gen/Friendship type of fics as well just specify

Queerplatonic relationships are welcome and highly encouraged

No AUs, unless it’s one of my own

Characters must be from the same source

Don’t send me ship names, I won’t know what you’re talking about. Character/Character or Character X Character format, please.

Character X Reader

The less detail the better, honestly

90% of readers will be Gender Neutral or Gender unmentioned

All readers are Autistic by default, this setting cannot be changed

If you want the reader to behave a certain way, give me an adjective that describes their movement/speech pattern

^I know that makes no sense but saying something like “Scratchy Reader” will always give me more to work with than “Anxious reader”

Reader can have ANY relationship to the characters; Romantic, Platonic, or Familial

I default to platonic if left open ended enough

More hyperspesific rules under the cut

I try very hard not to be biased but if I don’t like a character or a ship I may decline your request just because of that. I apologize if I do.

I also tend to be very locked in keeping a character in character, so I may also decline your request just because I cannot think of a situation where a character would do that or those two would be together. Again, I apologize.

I really really don’t like writing a gendered reader so unless it is absolutely necessary please don’t request it.

I do not want to write reader taking care of either Tomura Shigiraki or Spamton G. Spamton in the popular fandom Poor little meow meow way. Something about it bothers me personally.

I won’t write romantic X readers or ship fics for any of the Warriors of Hope from Danganronpa Ultra Despair Girls. Platonic is fine.

I can’t write Spamton’s verbal tic correctly so I currently won’t write fics involving him. Headcanon requests are fine.

I actually know next to nothing about FNaF and it’s lore so while it’s free to request it, I may not always know who or what you’re talking about and may delete your request because of that

I don’t write Angst or any form of Hurt/Comfort for personal reasons.

Platonic Yanderes do exist and I beg of you to consider them

If I see you requesting multiple things and then reblog none of them, I will stop doing your requests, and you may eventually be blocked.

I may write Adult/Minor ships. These will be tagged Cradle Ships. Block that tag if you need to. (X Readers included)

I may write Incestuous ships. These will be tagged Shipcest. Block that tag if you need to. (X Readers included)

I don’t have a specific tag for any other problematic trope, if it comes up I’ll try my best to have TW tags, but may have to be reminded.

[voiceswithoutlips]

Calico - Chapter One

— pairing: Hybrid ot7 x Human Reader (Female) — genre: hybrid AU , fluff, angst, slow burn (like real slow), eventual smut — word count: 1.8K — Rating: M — warnings: trauma, mention of past abuse. 

Click for Tag List

— chapter summary: 

Y/N runs a animal shelter, Calico was built on a simple principle, to help those who were in need. What will Y/N do when her sanctuary is threatened by an unexpected hybrid?

— A/N: This is going to be a series, I’m just getting back to writing, so I’d really appreciate your input and feedback <3

Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 3.5 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6

“So do you like your new puppy?” I asked the little girl that was trying to hold a squirming golden retriever pup. She frantically nodded her head. How cute!

“Congratulations on the new addition to your family! We’ll send someone for an inspection soon but I don't see how there can be any problems,” I reassured the parents. They were proudly beaming at their daughter, I doubt they even heard what you said. 

“I’m going to name him Bubbles!” Sana squeaked excitedly as the family left with their new pet. I suppressed a giggle, I was a sucker for cuteness. 

Seeing one of our animals get adopted was the best feeling in the world. Running a shelter was not the easiest thing in the world, grumpy animals, grumpy humans and an abundance of body fluids to clean up but it was rewarding. Calico was a no-kill shelter, a privately owned animal shelter. The upside was that we didn’t have to rely on the government for funding, the downside was the paperwork. Every animal that came to the shelter had to be meticulously checked and catalogued. 

The legalities were another headache. Most animals that came to Calico were rescues. We worked with several animal rights organizations that collected evidence and built cases against the owners. Sometimes we got rescues that weren’t exactly legal so we had to get the evidence and build the case ourselves. That’s why Calico had Song Hwa, a badass lawyer. She was just five feet tall but she could stare down men twice her size. 

“One down, two to go,” Jason said as he plopped down on the couch in your office. He was the head veterinarian at Calico, overseeing the health of the animals. He was also my best friend. 

“We have three potential families visiting tomorrow. How’s Hector doing?” I asked as I stretched in your chair. 

“He’s good but I’m still against the name Hector. He looks more like a Raphael,” Jason said with a frown. Last week one of our animal handlers Shownu found a box near the shelter’s gate. There was a small turtle in it, the poor thing was injured. Jason had to amputate his left hind leg because it was infected. 

“I’m not naming him after a mutant turtle. He’s a one legged turtle from the sea, he’s a pirate and nothing you say will change my mind,” I had named him after Hector Barbosa from Pirates of the Carribean movies after I won the rock paper scissors tournament against Jason. 

“Dorks,” Hana scoffed from the corner. She was the one who dealt with the potential families, showing them around the shelter, doing background checks and whatnot. I was the one who sealed the deal and dealt with the paperwork. I was terrible at social niceties, somehow I always ended up saying the wrong thing and had the worst timing in the history of humanity. 

Before Jason and I could retaliate Moonji burst through the door. “He’s back, Yonu is here,” he was breathless. He must’ve ran here all the way from the gates. Moonji was the other animal handler, he was a retired botanist with a wife and two daughters. 

We all collectively sighed. Yonu was a proud member of Animal Liberation Front, an extremist group or as the government would like to call them “animal rights terrorists”. Once in a blue moon Yonu would drop by without a warning to drop off rescued lab animals, he had a thing against scientists. The problem was that they were illegally acquired so we had to lie on the paperwork. Every time Yonu visited Calico, it was a stress fest for everyone, well everyone except Yonu. 

I reluctantly made my way to the exam room. Yonu was standing there bickering with Song Hwa with a box of rabbits. 

“We are NOT taking in the rabbits unless you tell us where you got them!” Song Hwa put her foot down. 

“It's classified,” Yonu said with a grin. 

“Then take them back,” Song Hwa was staring daggers at him.

“Yonu, you know we need to clear the legal side of things,” I shook my head, he knew how things worked. Usually he would brag about his conquest, giving us in depth details about his adventures. Sometimes he brought back research and documents for evidence.Something didn’t sit right with me. Where did he get the rabbits? Why wouldn’t he tell us?

“Sorry sugar, can’t share the details this time,” I sighed at his nickname. One day Yonu discovered that I didn’t like sugar in my coffee and he decided to start calling me Sugar. He was one annoying bastard. 

Jason was already weighing the rabbits and taking their temperature. No matter what methods Yonu used to ‘rescue’ the animals, we always took them in. Song Hwa always said I was too soft, she didn’t know how wrong she was.

There were seven rabbits in total. All white with long ears and pink noses. They were unusually small. “Yonu did you kidnap kittens?” I frowned as I leaned in to take a closer look. 

“No they are all adult males,” Jason interjected. He was checking them one by one, taking their blood to run tests, checking their limbs for any injuries, it was a routine procedure. 

“Aren’t they too small?” they were.

“Maybe they are like those toy poodles… toy bunnies?” Song Hwa suggested. It could be or maybe their growth was stunted. Either way, I didn’t like it, something was off about this, I just couldn’t put my finger on it. 

Jason was running blood panels in the lab as I took over the paperwork. The rabbits were safely left in a hatch outside in the garden. Yonu had miraculously disappeared as soon as we turned our backs and I was starting to get a headache. 

The rabbits barely showed any movement when they were being examined. They were practically limp in Jason’s hands. They had clearly been abused. I didn’t like the blank look in their eyes. Most of the time if the animal was scared it’d get defensive and lash out, it was a good sign, it meant that it still had its faculties. These rabbits didn’t make a squeak as they were moved to a new place, it was worrying. I just hoped they weren’t too far gone. 

“We have a problem,” Jason said as soon as I entered the lab. He was sitting in front of the computer, double checking the results. 

“This day just keeps getting better,” I murmured as I leaned in to see what he was looking at. Not that I could make any sense of it. 

“One of the rabbits is a hybrid,” did I hear that right?

“Come again?” did he just say what I thought he said?

“We have a hybrid in our hatch,” my heart sank.

The presence of a hybrid posed a threat to Calico. Not because he was dangerous, but because he was stolen. The laws regarding hybrids were still primitive in most countries. They were basically slaves to the system, regarded as sub-human. Hybrids were considered as property, something to be owned. Rare animal hybrids were highly sought after by the wealthy to show off their status. So technically the rabbit hybrid in our hatch belonged to someone, we had no right to keep him here. If his owner found out, they would sue us. If the government found that we were keeping a stolen hybrid they’d shut us down. 

“Let’s just send him to a hybrid shelter,” Shownu huffed. The staff was gathered in your office for an emergency meeting.

“Most of those shelters have terrible conditions. Why not just keep him here, we have license to house hybrids, it's not that big of a deal,” Jason said. 

“Might I remind you that he is stolen. We can’t keep him here, we have a shelter inspection next week,” Song Hwa frowned. 

Few months ago we had decided to expand Calico to accommodate hybrids too, we had enough room to do so. We had constructed a hybrid “enclosure” as per the government guidelines. They had sent us the requirements. … they wanted us to put people in cages. We all collectively agreed that no hybrid will ever be housed in that place. No matter what anyone said, they were still human. 

“We can’t just abandon him, who knows what those lab people did to him,” Hana retaliated and an argument broke out. I knew they loved this place, they all wanted what’s good for the shelter. This wasn’t this first time we had to lie but having a hybrid was different. None of us had ever dealt with a hybrid before, even if we decided to keep him, what then? But I knew I couldn’t hand him over. Calico was built on a simple principle, to help those who were in need. And that rabbit hybrid needed our help. 

“Enough. We took in the animals that Yonu had brought before because they needed help. We’ve lied on the documents and it’s no different this time. That hybrid needs our help, we just need to come up with a plan,” I passed the verdict. Not everyone liked it but I knew they’d never let me down. 

After the stressful day all I wanted to do was curl up on the couch with Jason and watch TV. Our house was on the edge of the property, secluded in the forest. It was a country cottage with a private garden. YouI stopped by the rabbit hatch on my way back. The poor bunnies were all squished together in a corner, scared of the new environment and the open space outside. 

I couldn’t tell which one was the hybrid as I leaned in to take a look. Looking for him was no use. Maybe talking would work. I sat down beside the hatch with a sigh.

“I know you’re there,” I said quietly. “It must’ve been scary huh? Being taken from the lab. Yonu, the man who brought you here, he’s a good person. He only wanted to help. His methods aren’t always ….well savory but his heart was in the right place. Do you know what this place is? It's called Calico, it's a shelter for animals. We take care of animals who need help and find them a new home. 

“This is my sanctuary. Nobody will hurt you here. You don’t have to be scared. You are safe here, I’m going to keep you safe, okay?” One of the rabbits was looking at me, he quickly ducked his head as he caught my gaze. I smiled, he was listening. 

“You must be hungry huh? Rabbits only get veggies and greens, don’t you want to eat pizza, and ice cream, and pancakes, maybe some sashimi…” I rambled on about food, about Calico and the staff, inside the hatch a bunny was listening intently to my stories. 

Next

[petri808]

Nalu Yakuza Au *cover art by @jmoart214 💜

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The tit for tat game was well known to both of their top confidants and lieutenants because it had been going on ever since Natsu and Lucy broke up. Plus, it was hard to get around such knowledge considering most of them came from the same neighborhoods. These intrigues ebbed and flowed like waves. Months could pass by without any interactions between the two, at other times they’d go back and forth continuously until one of them finally gave up, and on the odd occasion ended in a huge fight that led to another round of ignoring each other. Up until now, it had been kind of amusing to watch them torture each other because it was better than a drama shows on television. But that didn’t mean Natsu, and Lucy’s friends didn’t worry about one or both being truly hurt one day because of it.

“It’s fine,” Natsu rolled his eyes as Gray chastised him after the soapland incident. The two men were at Natsu’s home after work hours and supposed to be relaxing. But clearly his friend didn’t want to drop the subject. “What’s the big deal?”

“Dude, you let yourself be blindfolded in a public space! Have you forgotten what kind of business we’re in? What if it had been an assassin instead?”

“Oh, that’s just ridiculous. We’re talking about Lucy’s company, and I trust their security measures because she has just as much to lose if a hit took place there.”

“Still, you should be more careful, at least take a bodyguard with you…”

Natsu’s eyebrow twitched in irritation. “And what, so they can watch the show? We got any voyeurs on the payroll? Cause I can’t think of anyone here who’d wanna see another guy getting his balls fondled!”

Gray ran a hand down his face. “So not the mental image I wanted. You’re missing the point.” He sighed. “Natsu you are the head of this clan, and your safety is my top priority.”

“I get it, I get it,” Natsu drawled.

“And frankly,” Gray continued, “you’ve become distracted by her lately.”

“Tch! No, I haven’t!”

“Yeah, you are. You think I haven’t noticed? I know you drive by her place sometimes. I know you’ve followed her to that coffee shop she likes to frequent. But ever since her employee was robbed, things have escalated again.”

“You’re imagining things and apparently spying on me. I’m just keeping an eye on the competition.”

“Watching over you is my job! That’s not spying.” Gray crossed his arms. “And oh, it’s no doubt that you’re keeping an eye on her. That’s why you went to Katsunuma’s party and to soapland too. The problem is you’re getting sloppy and sloppy gets people killed.”

Natsu groaned. “Are you done yet? We’re supposed to be enjoying the baseball game, not psychoanalyzing my life.”

“Almost.” Gray placed a hand on his friends’ knee and leaned in. “Natsu, you’ve been chasing that tail since high school, just lock her down and convince her to work together already.”

Natsu snorted a laugh. “Gray we all grew up together, so what in all these years makes you think that’s a possibility? You know damn well Lucy’s not a woman you can control without her consent.” Natsu knew that, and frankly he loved that part of her. In fact, it made him even more fired up whenever he thought about it, just like a treasure you don’t just find but must win at the end of a game. “I’ll find a way, some day.”

“Well until that day arrives, could you promise me you’ll be more cautious?”

“Fine, fine,” Natsu waved his hand. “I’ll back off of Lucy for now.”

“Good.” Gray relaxed back onto his recliner thinking the drama was over.

“However, there is a new guy I want surveillance placed on.”

“Who?”

“The bartender from the party.”

Gray groaned. “Seriously? Why? He’s just a bartender!”

“I don’t trust him.”

“Was he spiking the drinks or something? Dealing drugs at the party?”

“Maybe.”

Gray huffed. “You really gonna try that? Do I look like an idiot? This is just straight jealousy talking.”

“I don’t care! I want someone to dig up what they can on the guy!”

“No, what you wanna know is if he fucked Lucy that night!”

Natsu jumped up with his fists clenched. “Fuck you!”

“Fuck you too!” Gray stood up and matched his boss’s energy. “Unless you give me a damn good reason to check into him, I’m not wasting my guy’s time! You might be the boss, but don’t you fucking forget who you’re talking to! I’m not some punk off the streets!”

Realizing he was taking things too far, Natsu sat back down. “Sorry.”

Gray sighed and plopped back down too. “I only joined because you asked me to and you’re my best friend, then I helped you build this new empire, so I’m just as invested in protecting it as you are. But Natsu, personal emotions have led to the downfall of many in this business, and as a friend, I’ll check you any time I think you’re going to far.”

“You’re right…” Natsu sighed too. “She just gets me so worked up.”

“Don’t I know it,” Gray laughed, but stopped when Natsu glared at him. “Sorry, it slipped out.”

“But I swear, there’s something suspicious about him. When he saw me, I thought he just reacted because he thought I was Lucy’s boyfriend or something, but the more I think about it, he might have recognized me.”

“Well, that wouldn’t necessarily be suspicious either.”

“True. But the look in his eyes just made me wonder.”

“Alright…” Gray groaned, “if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll have someone do some digging. So, you said he has orange hair and glasses, and the name on his tag was Loke?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s an unusual name, shouldn’t be too hard to check on.”

Over the course of a couple of weeks, Gray sent out feelers for any information on this Loke guy. Katsunuma junior gave them their first small lead that the bartender had worked the party through a local food catering company. That catering company was a legitimate business who had both full-time staff as well as independent contractors brought in per event as needed. Loke had been one of the latter. From there Gray obtained a last name, de Lioncourt.

According to his sources at the local precinct, Loke de Lioncourt had no rap sheet, no prior dealings with police, and for all they knew was an average citizen. The man’s Line blog profile listed him as a 28-year-old, Japanese/French American, model and bartender, and it was filled with pictures from events, parties, as well as many gorgeous women— none of which contained Lucy. But as Gray trolled through the man’s feed, he did come across one person he recognized and passed the information along to Natsu.

“Wow, she’s in a bunch of photos,” Natsu mumbled as he scrolled through the blog.

“Well, considering Cana’s reputation are you surprised. Parties and alcohol are the two things that woman lives for.” Gray laughed. “Now see, this makes sense to me. Lucy and him, not so much.”

“Tch… still pisses me off he even tried.”

“Lucy’s a free woman, she can go out with whoever she wants to.”

“We’ll see about that,” Natsu mumbled low.

“What was that?” Gray asked with a raised brow.

“Nothing.”

“Better be nothing, cause this is a dead end. He’s just a flirty bartender. It’s how they make tips.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” Natsu sat back in his chair. “So, back to business. What this I heard about some missing stock?”

“Oh, right. One of the warehouse clerks noticed a shortage, but when I checked with Yura, he said the books were fine. I had him show it to me, and it appears the numbers were just inverted by accident. So, instead of 185 kilos, it’s supposed to be 158 kilos.”

“Did you talk to the clerk again? Does he have any history of messing up like this?”

“Nah, he’s one of our better clerks.”

“Just keep an eye on it.”

“Sure thing, boss. By the way, have you seen Gajeel today?” Gray questioned. “I haven’t seen him.”

“He called me this morning said he wasn’t feeling well, thinks he ate something bad for dinner last night.”

“Tch, seriously? Thought he had an iron stomach?”

Natsu shrugged. “Must’a been some bad sushi or something. We ain’t got much happening today, so it’s fine. Anything else? I got some stuff I need to finish.”

Gray tapped his chin. “Just a reminder you have an appointment with our tech guy dropping by later this week to go over some upgrades on the system.”

“Like I’m supposed to know anything about that stuff, it’s what I pay him for.”

“You still gotta approve it,” Gray shrugged and took his leave.

Once the man was completely out of the office, Natsu opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a nondescript box he’d hidden inside. He grinned to himself. It was time to make another special delivery. Even though he’d told Gray he was backing off the whole Lucy and Loke subject, there was no way he was gonna let it slide. Natsu didn’t care if the man seemed legit, and he wasn’t the first nor would probably be the last that he’d eventually scared away. And besides, being a Yakuza boss had a lot of down times too, easily filled with having a little fun.

Today’s little care package was being sent to Lucy by a courier service and Natsu just had to drop it off to the delivery company. Just a normal company like Kuroneko Yamato so it wouldn’t rouse too many suspicions. It was turning into a fun game for him just coming up with ideas of what he could do to rile Lucy up or irritate this Loke guy. Natsu chuckled to himself. So far, his favorite prank was a box of small sized condoms and a bottle of enhancement pills that he’d had delivered to Loke while on the job at another party. He’d even snuck in to watch it delivered, gaining a good laugh when the man took a peek in the box and frowned at its contents.

It was childish, but Natsu didn’t care. Every day for two weeks now, something new was sent to Loke. Random gifts like children’s candy to a toy gun, a big bottle of lubricant wrapped in a bow, a week’s worth of meals sent for lunch one day, even an empty box with rocks inside it just to drive the man crazy wondering who in the world was sending them. Lucy too wasn’t immune to his pranks, though hers had a different feel to them. Flowers with no note attached. Tickets to a canceled show he made up. A supposed dinner invite from Loke that wasn’t real— okay that was to test her, but she didn’t fall for it. And today’s little care package fit right into his prank scheme.

Natsu dropped off the package at a Kuroneko Yamato office with the address instructions already filled out and paid the company’s employee extra to keep their mouths shut. ‘She’s gonna kill me one day,’ he laughed to himself as he rode back to his office. ‘If it’s suffocation by her boobs it wouldn’t be a bad way to go!’

“Anymore stops sir?” The driver asked Natsu.

“Nope. Back to the office.”

He looked at his watch. The package should be arriving at Lucy’s office within the hour. Give or take another to open it, and by 4pm he would be receiving another phone call. Maybe he won’t answer it. Oh, that would piss her off even more! ‘Well, if she’d just take the hint...’

The afternoon was supposed to be mellow at headquarters that day. No shipments, and no appointments. But when Natsu got back, another general in the organization named Jellal Fernandez came to his office to inform him of a problem. One of the new local restaurants in their territory was refusing to cooperate and he wanted to know how Natsu wanted it handled. They were right in the middle of discussing it, when Natsu’s office door flew open with a loud bang!

In stomped Lucy who immediately threw a box at his head, causing Natsu to duck and Jellal to pull his gun.

“Don’t!” Natsu screamed at his general and motioned for him to stand down, to which the man complied. “Do you have a death wish Lucy!”

“Get. Out.” She snapped at the general. “Get out! This is between me and your boss!”

Jellal looked to Natsu, who nodded his head to scram. “I got this, don’t worry.” The man holstered his gun and left, but Natsu could see he’d stayed right outside of the now closed door.

“I take it you didn’t like the gift,” Natsu pretended to stay calm.

“Gee, me throwing it at you give you that impression? I know it’s you sending all these damn deliveries to me and Loke. That needs to stop now!”

He crossed his arms and scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Play dumb all you want. Just stop! Why are you even doing this?!”

“Take a guess,” he sneered back.

“I could’ve sworn we were adults now, but apparently I’m the only one who grew up. Stay out of my love life Natsu!”

“So, you admit you’re sleeping with the guy!”

“That’s none of your damn business! I can fuck whoever I want!”

“Not as long as I’m alive,” Natsu growled back.

Lucy crossed her arms. “That could be arranged.”

“Is that a threat?!”

“Yes! If you don’t stay out of my love life!”

“A woman shouldn’t be sleepi—”

“Don’t you finish that sentence!” Lucy grabbed a stapler that was within reach and chucked it at Natsu’s head. “Stop trying to control me!”

“Are you crazy?!”

At that moment, Gray barged into the room. He’d heard the screaming from the other side of the office, and when he got close enough to see Jellal standing outside the door, he became alarmed. Why would a general leave Natsu vulnerable! The man told him their boss told him to leave, but as the sounds inside escalated, Gray couldn’t wait anymore.

“Stop it!!” Gray got between them. “What are you two doing! Lucy you shouldn’t be here!”

“Then tell your damn boss to leave me the fuck alone!” Lucy spat back. “Ask him how he’s been harassing Loke and me!”

Gray turned to his boss with a groan. “Natsu, we talked about this!”

“Tell Gray what you been doing!” Lucy pressed. “Show him the stupid packages you send!”

“What packages?” Gray looked to Lucy, then repeated the question as he stared at his boss. “What packages?”

“Tch,” Natsu crossed his arms, “it’s not even that bad.”

Lucy stomped over to where the box fell and picked it up, pulling the contents out. “Bullshit!” She snapped as she held up a very racy, red nightie with flame prints, a pair of fluffy handcuffs, and a large dildo. “See this shit?!” Lucy shook the floppy latex toy at Gray before chucking it to the ground again. “He includes messages too,” then handed the man a folded piece of paper.

Gray read it aloud, “to make up for what playboy lacks. Had it custom made to my size wink wink. Ugh, seriously man,” he tossed the letter.

Natsu shrugged. “I was just having fun.”

“This is the yakuza, not a daycare!” Gray snaps. “I’m not here to babysit the boss so he stops harassing the competition! There’s more important business to worry about!”

“That’s right listen to Gray,” Lucy sneered.

Gray turned to her. “Oh, you ain’t innocent either, so don’t even try it. You both do things to purposely rile the other up and get mad when there’s consequences. Stop it!” He looked back and forth between the two. “Just stop it already!”

Natsu and Lucy looked away from the man with scowls on their faces. Neither wanted to admit he was right.

“Jellal,” Gray called out. When the man entered, he instructed him to escort Lucy out of there. “Next time, just call me instead. It’s best you two just stay away from each other. Got it?!”

“Yeah,” Lucy grumped.

“Got it?!” Gray questioned his boss.

“Yeah,” Natsu mumbled.

“Fucking like high school,” Gray ran a hand down his face in irritation. “You two need therapy.”