#the moment i need to add any detail it explodes under my hands though rip fhsdkhj

[copper-skulls]

listening to Czech Philharmonic's new year concert and drawing blorbos dancing. good two hours.

[ladyartemesia]

The Terms

◐ PART III of THE ALPHA ◐

◐ Part I ◐ Part II ◐ Series Masterlist ◐

Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Jimin x Omega Reader

Rating: Mature (for this installment)

Warnings: ABO sexual dynamics including discussion of scenting, marking, mating, and claiming. Violence and discussion of violence relating to ritual combat. Jin’s pheromones need their own warning. Yoonji and Yunli are not the same person.

Word Count: 2300

Author’s Note: As promised, this chapter is twice as long as the previous two and a lot of what people have been speculating about in the asks is discussed in this chapter... along with a few surprises...

“Luna rex provocatione means ‘the moon king’s challenge.’ It is never invoked lightly as its consequences are grave indeed... If an alpha believes that he is the true Alpha and the goddess has placed another in his path as a test of worthiness and dedication to the pack, then he will acknowledge his acceptance of this test by declaring luna rex provocatione. Once the challenge has been set forth only the death of the Luna’s first mate or the total surrender of the challenger can satisfy it...”

Text of the traditional speech given by a chief elder to begin a luna rex provocatione ritual [7th century]

“I know you won’t understand, but this isn’t personal-”

Jimin offered his rival an overtly feigned smile.

“You plan to kill me and claim my mate. Which part of that could I possibly take personally?”

Tae snorted somewhere in the background and Yoongi elbowed him hard.

Tradition dictated that both alphas meet with their second-in-commands in the chief elder’s chambers to discuss the terms of combat.

Namjoon brought Min Yoongi and Jimin had somehow ended up with Taehyung.

He didn’t remember actually agreeing to make Tae his second...

It just sort of happened somewhere between calming his hysterical mother and quickly reading up on archaic pack law.

The chief elder coughed uncomfortably. Goddess, this ascension was supposed to be easy. He never in a million moons thought he’d be in this position.

The last chief elder who oversaw a luna rex provocatione ritual had immortalized it in his journal as “the single most horrific moment of my life,” describing in detail the Luna howling in torment at the loss of her mate and the victor collapsing over the corpse of his foe in misery and guilt.

As in the past, the outcome of this conflict was already decided by fate...

Pain and regret weighed heavily on the older man as he considered the younger of the two alphas.

Park Jimin was going to die violently and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Because Kim Namjoon issued the challenge, his opponent will decide combat form. Your choices are human form, half-shifted, and wolf-form. After your choice is declared, Namjoon may add a minor alteration if he so desires. Park Jimin, please declare form.”

“Human,” he answered softly - and every single occupant of the room recoiled in response.

It was bad enough to witness a fight in wolf form or half-shifted... but to engage in ritual combat as a human-

It would be brutal - even psychologically disturbing - without the benefit of a wolf’s hide to mask the savagery.

Namjoon’s eyes widened in shock, but he recovered quickly.

“I request teeth and claws.”

Not quite a half-shift. Teeth and claws allowed for attacks using lengthened canines and claws.

It could make a kill slightly more... humane.

Jimin nodded and the elder pressed his seal over the first of the terms.

The were no windows in the small, stuffy chamber and between the heavy ceremonial garb and the nearly twenty braided praesidium bracelets wrapped around his wrists, Jimin felt as if the blood in his veins was literally coming to a boil.

Though he dared not remove them to relieve his discomfort.

Each bracelet represented a prayer to the goddess. They were given as protection to a loved one before a great trial.

His mother had not stopped making them since the ascension. She’d torn apart her most expensive dress and spent hours twisting the fabric strips into intricate traditional braids while she prayed...

Jimin’s fingers sought them out for comfort as the miserable parade of ritual legalities marched past the two hour mark.

Many agreements (like Jimin’s insistence that his mother not be allowed to attend the fight and Namjoon’s pledge to financially support the Park family in the event of their alpha’s death) were settled quickly, however the sheer number of details to be solidified was overwhelming.

“I think it best if we adjourn for a short recess,” the chief elder sighed wearily and Taehyung nearly ran Yoongi over in his desperate scramble to finally use a restroom.

Jimin turned to leave, but a hand on his elbow drew him back.

“I want you to know, I did this for you as much as for the rest of them.”

His tone was low and carefully respectful, but Jimin’s wolf snapped irritably at the elder alpha’s presumption.

“What an... interesting statement to make.”

He pointedly removed Namjoon’s hand from his arm with calculated nonchalance.

“No one expected you to be chosen... Jungkook, or even Hoseok, would have been an understandable alternative, but you’ve never taken being an alpha seriously-”

“According to you,” Jimin fired back, finally allowing his voice to harden in cold fury. “I have always known and valued what I am. I simply never felt called to your version of it.”

Namjoon tilted his head in acknowledgement.

Park Jimin might not look particularly dangerous ... but for the first time, the Kim alpha considered that he may have underestimated his opponent.

“Either way - the pack does not trust you. They are not confident in your ability to lead them,”his hands fisted reflexively at his side as he considered the weight of his next words, “...but if you beat me, they will never question your strength.”

Jimin’s hands tightened into fists.

Namjoon might be an overconfident windbag, but he had a point.

He faced an uphill battle to subdue a restless pack as well as increased threats from rival clans looking to expand their own power and territory.

The challenge was a chance to establish his claim.

Or die trying.

“You think rather highly of yourself,” he chuckled and Namjoon bristled indignantly.

“I have devoted my life to the pack. I have never questioned my duty to them.” He leaned forward a bit, holding the younger alpha’s gaze with purpose. “That is why I will not hesitate to kill you.”

“And what of the Luna?” Jimin wondered in mock contemplation. “Do you think she will take kindly to the loss of her mate if you win?”

Namjoon’s jaw clenched. The Luna was clearly a sore subject.

“If I win, then you were never really her mate were you? Your entire existence boils down to nothing more than a sacred test in my destined path.”

Silence stretched heavily as the two alphas regarded one another with open hostility.

“I will fight you till the last shred of life is ripped from my body,” Jimin snarled.

A shiver ran down Namjoon’s spine, though he was far from intimidated.

“At least now you sound like an alpha,” he scoffed.

Then he was gone.

Jimin waited till the sound of the older man’s footsteps faded before slamming his fist into the table.

He needed air and to be alone with his thoughts for moment before he could civilly resume the endless negotiations.

Unfortunately, the only place offering both of those things was a cluttered balcony near the back of the building.

The room traditionally designated for luna rex provocatione proceedings had been used as a storage closet for at least the last hundred years (and therefore needed to be hastily cleared after Namjoon’s inconvenient declaration). Consequently, the room’s former contents (piles of toys from this season’s charity drive) were now strewn haphazardly across the narrow outdoor space like debris from a brightly colored bomb.

Jimin carefully navigated his way to the balcony’s wooden rail and lifted his eyes to the moon.

“Please,” he begged softly “... send me a sign.”

“If he did not hate me before, he surely does now,” you sighed, staring morosely at the lights flickering in the old chamber building. Somewhere within the bowels of that archaic fire hazard, your mate of less than twenty-four hours was negotiating a nightmare.

“This is not your fault, Luna-“

“Isn’t it?” you snapped. “That’s who I am. I’m the Luna, if I could just accept another mate without someone getting their throat ripped out, then none of this would be necessary.”

Jin sqeezed your hand sympathetically.

The council placed you under guard in a small cottage across from the elder’s chambers in order to prevent the alphas from having any contact with you. Since then you kept a constant vigil from its rickety porch, hoping to catch a glimpse of the young man whose life you had ruined.

“Would you do it then - if you could?... Would you accept another mate to spare the Park alpha?”

Bitter tears burned at the corner of your eyes.

“Yes,” you whispered, “...I think I’d do almost anything to save him.”

Comfortable silence settled between you for several minutes - until a small flutter of movement drew your gaze to the chamber balcony.

Then he walked out.

And just the sight of him was enough to slam your heart up into your throat.

Jimin...

Jin quickly turned to your guard and unleashed a wave of pheromones that would have knocked out a grizzly bear. The guard whined and abandoned her post to follow him inside without a second thought, leaving you conveniently alone.

Male omegas are a rare and dangerous breed, you observed wryly, before retuning your attention to the man across the path.

A painful ache twisted hungrily in your gut as you watched him tilt his face to the sky. Somehow the relentless beauty of his features was even more captivating in the moonlight...

Suddenly a strong breeze braided though the air around you, playing with the loose strands of your hair and carrying your scent away from the small cottage and up to the balcony where the young alpha sought solace.

Jimin’s eyes shot open as the rich, unforgettable essence of you exploded over his senses. His gaze immediately locked with yours, cutting through the distance and darkness with an intensity that left you reeling.

You could not see his face at the ascension - instead the blindfold left you burning with curiosity as your mind conjured a thousand variations of how he might have looked on you in that moment...

Yet every last one of them fell short.

You could never have imagined the naked longing - the fierce desire - that burned boldly in his regard.

A strange, desperate frustration overtook you.

He was too far away - and Namjoon was going to take him from you before you could touch him again - before you could breathe him in again-

The cruel wind continued to pull your fragrance toward Jimin like an erotic incense, yet it offered you no such gift in return. You could not discern his scent and you wanted to - needed to - with a voracity that was almost blinding.

Please...

A mournful whimper tore from your lips and Jimin’s body reacted instantly to your distress.

Suddenly he was digging through the piles of mismatched trinkets and toys on the balcony, tossing aside all manner of discarded treasures till he finally found what he was searching for.

“Jimin-hyung! Where are you? Chief elder wishes to resume-”

Jimin glanced toward door as his fingers worked frantically over the object his hands.

“I’m on my way!”

His eyes found yours one last time, then he drew back-

A muted thwack echoed a few inches from your shoulder as whatever Jimin threw embedded itself into one of the porch beams.

Your fingers trembled with anticipation as you reached forward to retrieve (what appeared to be) a pointed metal dart - probably from a wall-mounted Darts game someone donated...

A length of braided cloth was tied tightly to the shaft and you recognized it immediately as a praesidium bracelet.

Soothing waves of Jimin’s scent drifted up from the fabric where it had rubbed repeatedly against the glands in his wrist.

Your body calmed instantly. Cold desperation gave way to the soft warmth of tenderness.

He knew.

He knew what you needed and he found a way to send it to you.

Your hand closed tightly over the bracelet as you crumpled to your knees and sobbed.

A gentle knock sounded at Namjoon’s door and a familiar figure slipped inside.

“...Yunli?”

Namjoon blinked for several moments in confusion before closing his evening read to approach her.

“Yunli... why - what are you doing here? It’s late - the ritual set to begin at sunrise.” He glanced at the door behind her, “Is Yoongi with you?”

She shook her head.

“My brother doesn’t know I’m here.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened as he considered all the ways his best friend’s younger sister sneaking into his house (in the middle of the night no less) could go horribly wrong.

“Ah. Well... that’s ...not good,” he mumbled, running his hand over his face. “Are-um - are you here to wish me luck for tomorrow?”

He reached for a glass of water to soothe his suddenly dry throat.

“No. Frankly I hope Park Jimin beats you to a bloody pulp.”

Water sprayed comically out of Namjoon’s mouth as he began to cough violently.

“What?!” *wheeze* “Why?!”

She offered him a sad smile.

“You know why, Kim Namjoon.”

He did know why.

Yunli had loved him (or believed she loved him) since she was a little girl.

He sighed heavily.

“Yunli, we’ve been over this-”

“One week. The change comes to me in one week-”

“You’re Yoongi’s sister-”

“I’ll be twenty years old, and for the last time I’m not your sister-”

“Goddess above, Yunli!” he shouted, “You’re just a child!”

Yunli’s hands gripped the collar of his shirt and yanked him down to her level.

“I am not a child!” she growled.

Then her mouth was on his and every single thought he ever had disappeared.

There was only her.

Heat poured through him like heavy syrup as his senses surrendered one by one. His arms wrapped around her without the slightest hesitation, as if their sole purpose was draw her in.

Sweet... Oh goddess, she’s sweet.

Yunli whined needily and a possessive growl rumbled from his chest in response.

Then she was pulling back - wrenching herself away from him with an anguished sob.

Bitter tears flowed freely down her impossibly beautiful face and Namjoon - who spent the majority of his life barely acknowledging his heart - suddenly felt it shatter.

“You should have waited for me,” she whispered.

“Yunli-I-” he tried calling out to her, but it was no use.

She was already gone.

“Are you sure you have everything you need?”

Jimin offered his second a distracted smile and nodded. His room looked the same as it did the morning of the ascension, yet his entire life was different...

“You were great today, Taehyung. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Tae felt his chest swell with pride. He didn’t want to think about what sunrise might bring, but he was determined to serve his old friend well.

For as long as he could.

“I don’t know about that,” he chuckled, recalling that he fell asleep on his feet for three entire terms before anyone noticed. “You’re a surprisingly ruthless negotiator. I barely contributed.”

“I wasn’t alone though...” Jimin whispered, “and when Namjoon first issued the challenge... I thought I might be.”

Taehyung gulped, pushing back the oppressive sorrow settling in his gut in favor of some levity.

“You - uh - you actually missed the wildest part of the whole day.”

“...I did?”

“Yeah it was bizarre. Did you notice the table was different after our break?”

Jimin shrugged. His thoughts had been... elsewhere at that point.

“We couldn’t find you at first, so you missed the whole ordeal but - when we all came back to the room, that big oak table was split in half.”

Hello my precious readers! If you would like to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments.

(If you are already on the taglist, I will automatically tag you in all future chapters, you do not need to ask to be tagged again.)

Please please please PLEASE let me know what you think! This chapter was HARD and I genuinely aganized over it. Your feedback and support are what kept me pushing though. Truly. I would love to hear from you! I treasure every word of feedback like diamonds.

End Note: Yoonji was mentioned earlier in the story. She is Yoongi and Yunli’s cousin. Yunli and Yoonji are separate characters.

[sunjaesol]

love, between the shadow and the soul

chenford | drabble | post-canon | title: sonnet xvii - pablo neruda

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Look, Tim Bradford did not get attracted to rookies, okay? In all the years he had been a TO, none had grabbed his attention. Not when he and Isabelle were dating, or married, or when she disappeared into the night with a trail of illicit affairs and a shot of heartache for him. Dozens of young women had sat in that car beside him and never ever had he let their femininity distract him. He served his country. He fought wars overseas. He looked Death right in the eye every single day and never blinked.

But then came officer Lucy Chen. He instantly knew the type of cop she’d be the second she turned in her seat, meeting his gaze for the first time, and nervously smiled at him. Nerves were normal, he was aware, but the doe-eyed look and the hopeful grin sold her out. No mystery. Just another young cop that would either slip through the cracks by the exam by tanking their grade due to stress, or she’d become a desk duty cop — one that stayed far from danger, that handled life with a perpetual softer touch ‘cause of her shrink parents.

Nothing wrong with that, Bishop would chastise him. Every cop had its use, she’d add. Sure, that might be true, but Tim didn’t want to babysit an armed toddler waiting for it to cry and call for mom. With just a couple well-placed Tim-tests, she’d be out of his hair in no time and then he could cross his fingers for a better recruit in the following weeks.

Life had the ability to change in a snap though — their funny, yet stern reminder that the universe called the shots, not the gun in his holster, or the rulebook. He got shot. Officer Chen backed him up. Her stubborn, yet brazen, yet honest attitude reeled him in just enough to ignore her little quirks she always joyfully displayed in the shop. Whenever he didn’t nip her ramblings in the bud fast enough, she babbled on and on about her personal life, her personal issues and relationships, like they were best friends (They weren’t! Boots and him never befriended!), like their relationship was anything more than a transactional training period. They got each other’s six. That was it.

But fuck, man. She got under his skin, too.

Lucy wore this… really nice perfume. A lot of female officers had make-up and perfume on, allowed a small sliver of self-expression, and he and Lopez had spend countless hours in a shop together. He was used to it. But somehow, Lucy’s stuck in his nose and didn’t leave. He felt like a creep, thinking about the blend of cardamom and oranges and cherry blossoms mixing with her warm skin, uncontrollable while also wanted. He wanted to fantasise about that fucking perfume of hers, a realisation that took a long time to come to terms with.

That didn’t mean he liked her though — he quickly corrected himself the first time he caught the pattern of behaviour — all it meant was that Lucy had good taste in perfume. Case closed.

So why did he linger whenever her shimmery eyes flicked up at him, why did his breath catch in his throat when her voice dropped to that infuriating sincerity as she uttered words of appraisal? Why his heart go haywire when she recorded all those audio books for him; an out of line gesture and overzealous task for a boot, which would normally result in him laughing their face.

Tim never thought he’d get over Isabelle, nor did he ever believe he’d have his happily ever after with Rachel, but with Lucy he foolishly hoped for more. A more that came from such a stupid and deluded place, probably fostered through months of loneliness and the Pavlovian response to her perfume, but one he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop it. The man was always in control about everything, ran his own tests and went over every possible outcome every day, every hour — and yet he didn’t see her coming. Lucy Chen had been right under his nose and he hadn’t been prepared for the ground to disappear beneath his feet; something that should honestly get him fired. The callousness of his emotions while entertaining the idea of a relationship with his own boot sentenced him straight to P2 or desk duty, or whatever.

Lucy deserved someone better, anyway.

Someone that understood her love for sage and cleansing homes. Someone that liked veggie burgers, chai lattes, karaoke nights and social media lurking. Someone that wouldn’t hesitate for one second to open her door for a teenage girl in need of safety and a little bit of that Chen-love. Someone that wasn’t any of those firemen assholes, but wasn’t Tim either.

He never let his insecurities get the best of him, but after seeing her thrive as a P2 without him, handling undercover stints like a pro, conquering her trauma of being buried alive, it only showcased that she had more bravery in her index finger than some army members had in their entire body, all while staying innately kind. Of course Tim lost his mind over her. Of course he tried shaping officer Barnes to be more like Lucy — more sun and bite and charisma, less army BS. Of course, of course, of course. Even Rosalind, the person he hated most besides Caleb, had him figured out in seconds. He was obvious as hell.

Which was why he had to move stations. Away from the Mid-Wilshire Division and to another. He couldn’t be around her anymore and risk compromising missions or attacks. He didn’t tell Angela the details, though her knowing look said enough, and simply replied that she’d miss him and that she was sure the chief would happily reinstate him any time.

He should’ve known that information leaked through like a wildfire.

The morning of his resignment, uniform neatly folded in his locker, Lucy stopped him in the hallway with the most befuddled expression he’d ever seen.

“What?” he said.

“What the hell,” she exclaimed. “You’re leaving and I have to hear it from Angela? Why’re you…? You love this division. Is everything okay?”

Shouldering past her, he drawled over his shoulder: “Everything’s fine, officer Chen. I’d advise you to put on your uniform and get to roll call.”

“Don’t pull this crap with me,” she bit back, latching onto his arm before he was out of reach. His feet reflexively stopped in place, stupidly waiting on her to finish her train of thought. “Tim, you can tell me if something’s wrong. We’ve been through… way too much for you to act this cold with me.”

He scoffed, feigning mockery, and put his hands on his hips. “We? Chen, I was your TO. That’s it. Get it out of your head it was more.”

Lucy blinked, once, twice, a hurt expression crossing her features, followed by disbelief and a quiet contempt he had become awfully familiar with. Swallowing back the regret, he watched as she pursed her lips and took a step back. “Wow. Okay.”

“Don’t take it personally.”

“Hard not to, officer Bradford,” she muttered. Turning to the locker rooms, she added, “Talk to me when you’re ready to not be an asshole.”

That should’ve been his cue to let her go and resume his trek to sergeant Grey, but a whiff of her fragrance wafted in his face from her dancing curls and any sensical thought was knocked out his head. He wanted to embrace her and burrow his face in her hair, he wanted to hold her with intent, he wanted to kiss the scent off her skin. His feet followed her instead, both fully aware and totally impulsive at once. He chose the excuse of loving a good argument with her to then utter: “I’m not an asshole, Chen. I’m honest.”

“If you’re honest, you’d admit that we’ve been very close friends these past months,” she exhaled, refusing to look him in the eye. He supposed he deserved that. Stopping in front of her locker, she continued with, “Distorting your own reality to fit your macho narrative isn’t healthy. Also, this is the women’s locker room. Out. Now.”

Tim sputtered out a laugh and crossed his arms. “Macho narrative? Please.”

Lucy’s eyes narrowed, all air sucked out the room at the intensity of her stare, and Tim felt himself flailing, suddenly wondering why the hell he wanted to turn in his badge when the only place he could have moments with lucy was, well, here. Why was he giving up on this, how silly it might be?

With a resolute voice, she said, “Tim, why are you resigning?”

Nothing in his entire career prepared him for this. Tim Bradford had survived Iraq and Afghanistan, twelve years of the LAPD and counting, a deadly virus, hundreds of bullets taken by the vest and felt the power of death on the blue lips of Lucy in the quiet countryside. Fear got pushed aside. Pride pulled him forward, onwards. But right now, he had to take a leap of faith — the sole thing he never relied on, but Lucy did — and trust she’d be there after the fall.

(He wanted to be that amazing someone for her.)

“Because of you,” he whispered. His fight or flight told him to run for the first time in forever, but he kept his feet glued to the floor.

Her jaw fell slack in shock. “E-excuse me? Me?! I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“Exactly,” he spit. “You… you’re…” Tim sighed. “You’re the best, Lucy.”

Faltering, her brows furrowed in utter confusion, a grain of her fury replaced with compassion. He wasn’t sure if that was warranted. All he was trying to do was get it off his chest, confess, before it escalated to insurmountable heights. “I don’t think I understand.”

“Uh…”

“You’re resigning, because I’m the best?” she tried to deduce. “No offense, any other day I’d be dancing right now, but this is just…” She gestured at him. “So weird.”

Tim let out a miserable sigh and ripped the band-aid off. Fuck it. “I’m trying to be honest about my feelings, Lucy.”

She froze. “What?”

“I like you. A lot.” Her wonderstruck expression didn’t make him feel better, so he quickly added: “Which is why I gotta decrease the risk of this exploding in our faces and go.”

“Whoa!” Lucy’s hand wrapped around his, eyes wide and searching, like any empirical data would be found within his green irises, otherwise known as fondness and unresolved tension with every quiet moment they had. “Is this… another test? Are you getting back at me for pranking you?”

He quirked a brow. “You’re a P2 now. Tests are over.”

“Right,” she quipped, catching herself. She let go of him and nervously tucked a lock behind her ear. “Yeah. Okay. And you’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. O-kay. Let me, uh…” the locker swung open “… wrap my head around this.”

“It’s a pretty easy thing to—”

“Tim.”

“Yeah, okay.” He backed off, hating how the control was out of his hands now, how he practically shoved his heart in her grip and her pretty fingers could crush it to dust if she wanted to. “I’ll let you do that.”

Walking out the locker room, he took a deep breath and straightened up his face. Alright. He royally screwed that over. If his army buddies knew, they’d all laugh in his face and tease him for the rest of his life. But at least he told her and got his answer, that a relationship was off the table but that they could save their friendship once he switched divisions and some distance mended his twisted, inside-out heart. Lucy had rocked his world and all she had to do was exist.

“Tim!”

“Wha— wow!”

Her body crashed into him the second he turned around to her beautiful voice, Lucy’s arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him down to her level ‘til all he experienced were her sweet eyes and breathless smile and a kiss. Lucy kissing him, slow and tentative, but it lit his heart aflame and urged him to hold onto her. Her perfume was all-encompassing, nose full of the fragrance and the soft slope of her neck and long, brown hair and fuck, he was kissing Lucy Chen. Except he didn’t care if the entire precinct idly watched by, or if she yanked him out the building on impulse, or anything — ‘cause he was kissing her and it was perfect. Her plump lips were better than he ever imagined.

Her hands slid from his hair to his shoulders, arms and then his hands, squeezing. His forehead pressed against hers, embarrassingly weak in the knees from that incredible kiss that he didn’t dare to stand up straight. Two silly grins broke loose on their faces. He had no clue what to do now, or not do, but he did know he wanted her. He wanted everything.

Lucy decided for him.

“Don’t go,” she whispered.

Tim smiled. “Okay.”

[newnewyorker93]

Blueprints for a Rescue

read on ao3 here

Pepperony Week 2020 • Day 1: battle couple

Summary: Tony gives Pepper something special for their 1st wedding anniversary, and Pepper makes an important decision.

—

“Hey, Pep! Do you have a minute?”

Pepper looked up from where she was sitting, curled up on the living room floor with baby Morgan lying on her stomach next to her. Morgan was giggling and shrieking excitedly as she grabbed for the toy Pepper held out for her - a plush platypus, a gift from Uncle Rhodey and currently one of her favorite toys; its beak let out a very satisfying squeak! whenever she managed to squeeze it tight enough in her tiny fists. The two of them were so engrossed in their little game that Pepper hadn’t even noticed Tony entering the room but there he was now, standing next to the coffee table. He had something held behind his back, a thick roll of paper, and he was tapping it against the back of his leg while doing that shift-shuffling move with his feet that Pepper knew meant he was nervous about whatever it was he wanted to tell her.

Instead of answering his question directly, she instead addressed Morgan. “What do you think? Should we see what your silly father is up to this time?” The baby gurgled happily in response and tried to roll over, a move she hadn’t quite mastered yet, and Pepper gave her back a quick rub in acknowledgement of the attempt before looking back up at Tony with an inviting smile. “Sounds like a ‘yes’ to me.”

“Are you sure?” Tony asked, hesitating slightly. “I'd hate to interrupt tummy time.”

Pepper laughed. "Morgan's got a very full schedule today, but I think we can squeeze you in."

“Oh good. I've got something for you. A present, actually. For our anniversary.”

Pepper stopped rubbing Morgan’s back, a puzzled expression crossing her face. “It’s not our anniversary.”

“I know.”

“Our anniversary is next week.”

“I  know.”

"But you're giving me a present today?"

"A stunningly accurate summation of the situation, yes. Astute as always, pepper pot!" Tony was teasing her now, but Pepper could tell there was an undercurrent of real nervousness behind his words. His voice softened, then, as he explained, “It’s just, this is- well, is about to be- our first anniversary, and I want to get it right, and given my, shall we say, mixed track record on gifts…” He trailed off, giving Pepper a second to fill in the blank. She did a quick mental inventory of Tony’s various ‘surprises’ over the years - when he got it right, he got it really right, and when he didn’t...well when he didn’t a team of construction workers ended up getting hired to rip a hole in their wall so a 15-foot-tall stuffed bunny could be maneuvered through. So yeah, maybe his concern wasn’t entirely unwarranted, although whatever this was at least already had the advantage of fitting inside the house. Evidently enough of this thought process could be read on Pepper’s face because Tony nodded in agreement before continuing. “See, you get it. Hence, my brilliant solution! I give you your present a week early, and then I’ve got time to put together a plan B in case you don’t like this one!”

“And if I do like it?” Pepper asked, amused and touched by Tony’s mildly convoluted approach to problem solving.

“Oh, in that case I will…um, still have to find something special to give you on the day of…” Tony scratched the back of his head, a sheepish expression on his face. “I really didn’t think that part through, did I? Although In my defense, this is my first go at a wedding anniversary.”

“Hmm, fair. You’d better get used to it though,” Pepper teased. “You’re going to have a lot more of them to figure out.”

“Yeah…” A soft happy smile lit up Tony’s face, the kind that made the corners of his eyes crinkle up and he was lost for a moment, thinking about that.

“So,” Pepper eventually prompted, “do I get to actually see my pre-anniversary present?”

“Yes! Right. Of course.” Tony moved aside the few knick-knacks left out on the coffee table and unrolled the papers he’d been holding behind his back onto it, revealing a stack of technical drawings. He gestured for Pepper to scoot forward and take a look. "I made you a suit! Well, to be more precise, I designed you a suit."

Pepper examined the figure on the top page and frowned. Armor would be a generous description for whatever this was, as it looked more like a bikini that just happened to be made out of metal rather than anything meant to be in any way protective. It wasn’t until she looked up, ready to indignantly lay into Tony because what the fuck, that she caught the tell-tale mischievous twinkle in his eyes and realized what he was doing.

“Oh god, babe, you should see your face right now!” Tony crowed. “Just a little joke to break the tension,” he reassured Pepper, “I mean, come on, it’d be completely useless as armor like this, no defensive coverage at all. Although I'm sure we could find something else to use it for… Yes? No? You're smiling, Pep, I can see it!” She was smiling, biting back a laugh because it was just so Tony, getting his anxiety out by completely designing and drawing out by hand an entire prank suit of armor. “We'll file that one under maybe, then… But seriously, as much as I enjoy a bit of pin-up Pepper, this-” he pulled aside the top sheet with a dramatic flourish, unveiling a set of schematics for a suit that looked much more like his own Iron Man armor, if slightly more feminine, “-is your real present, should you choose to accept it." 

Tony sat himself down on the floor across the table from Pepper, giving her some space to study the blueprints more closely. After a few moments of forcing himself to sit perfectly still he scooped Morgan up off the rug and snuggled her up to his chest, letting his daughter’s squirming distract him from the otherwise irresistible urge to start fidgeting and drumming his fingers against his leg as he waited for Pepper’s verdict.

“This is…wow.” Pepper didn’t even know where to begin. She was awed by the sheer scope of the project, at the amount of time Tony must have put into making this for her - there were pages and pages of plans, intricate renderings of every piece of the suit from helmet to gauntlets to boots and every bit in between, all painstakingly (and gorgeously; with so much of his work done in holograms and machinery, it was easy to forget how much of an artist Tony really was) hand-drawn and neatly labeled down to the most precise measurements. “How… You drew all of this?”

Tony shrugged. “I’ve had the image in my head for years, this was just letting it all out, finally. Like an exorcism.” Pepper cocked her head at that and Tony laughed. “Ok, maybe that’s not the best metaphor, but you know what I mean. Besides, it was kind of nice to go analog again, break out the old pencil and paper. And it wasn’t all me! Morgan helped too.”

"Oh really?"

"Yep! Very helpful design critic, our daughter. Here, I'll show you." Tony flipped forward to a sheet that displayed detailed close-up and exploded views of the suit's helmet. "She really liked this part, see?" He pointed out the signs of Morgan's interest - a wrinkly spot on the corner of the page where the baby had clearly drooled on the paper, and a few smudges the exact width of her tiny fingers streaked right across the center of the main drawing. "Tried to grab your helmet right off the page!"

While Pepper fondly examined this father-daughter collaboration, Tony turned his attention to Morgan, giving the pint-sized engineer a playful bounce in his arms. “You really are your Daddy’s little girl, aren’t you?” Morgan smooshed her hand onto Tony’s face in response and he pretended to nibble at the tips of her fingers, making her (and Pepper) laugh. “You want a suit too, baby girl?”

Pepper stopped laughing at that and looked sternly at her husband. "Tony, please tell me you aren't…"

"Of course not," Tony retorted, making sure to sound appropriately scandalized at the very notion. “I told her, I said, not until you’re at least six-” he waited for Pepper to glare, right on cue, then finished with an impish grin, “-teen.”

Pepper rolled her eyes at that, but affectionately, and focused back on the schematics. “What’s this mean, here?” she asked, pointing out the title block at the corner of the page.

“Oh, that’s what I’ve been calling her, Rescue.” Tony explained. “You can change if you want something different though!” he hurriedly added. “Maybe something a bit flashier - you don’t know how tempted I was to go with Iron Maiden; a bit more my speed than yours, of course, but you’re welcome to it. Anyway, I just kept coming back to that first time I saw you suited up, remember? In the Mark 42 armor, how you saved me…” How you’ve saved me so many times, in so many ways over the years, he thought, but left unspoken. “It’ll still have all the usual defensive and attack capabilities, of course, and we can add in whatever fancy tricks and toys you want, but the primary intent is, well, rescue.”

“Did you start building it already?”

“No, I-” Tony’s eyes met Pepper’s and she could see the vulnerability there, the kind he only ever let her see. “I did this for you, Pepper, only for you, and it’s your choice. It doesn’t need to go any further than this, it can just be some art for our bedroom wall, if that’s all you want it to be. But I needed to show it to you either way. So…what do you think?"

Pepper traced her finger lightly over a little inset drawing on the last page of the blueprints. It was an image of Iron Man and Rescue flying next to each other, more of a sketch than a schematic really (although, knowing Tony, more likely than not still to scale and accurate in all technical aspects). There was probably some mundane reason for that picture to be there, maybe to show a size comparison between the suits, but all Pepper could think of as she looked at it was Tony sitting at his worktable in the garage, lovingly drawing the two of them twirling through the air together. Maybe telling Morgan about it, spinning her stories of her parents as knights in shining armor, off to save the world. She could see how much he wanted this - for her, for them - in every line, in every detail so lovingly rendered, and to her surprise she realized she really did want it too.

They’d talked so much, over the years, about the negative side of Tony and his suits - the obsession, all the ways he’d hidden away and almost lost himself in them - but that’s never been the whole story. There’s freedom there, and joy too and this...this, she understood, was Tony trying to share all that with her. It wasn’t insecurity or a distraction, it was calm and careful - and beautiful. Invention born out of love, not fear. And just like that, Pepper knew what her answer was. She shifted her gaze back towards Tony’s tentative, hopeful face. “I think…” she gave him a soft smile and nodded. “Yes, Tony, I’ll be your Rescue.”

[shanlulu-writing]

Levi X reader  - I Am All Yours - Part 2

So here it is, I hope that you like it, I have been really worrying about keeping true to Levi. I hope I have done him justice. Please let me know what you would like to see in the future, or what we could throw at Levi to make him fall off his throne  I am more than willing to be a sacrifice to be thrown at him *wink wink* Any Critique or comments are always welcomed as it will further my writing skills. Thanks to all of those who have commented so far, I really do appreciate it. Much Love, Lulu xxx !!Caution!! Swearing and Mature themes from the outset Part 2 “I think it has everything to do with me.” His fingers trace your wound, you can't help but feel there is something wrong with him completely ignoring your personal space. Every touch was agony, and you try your best to lean away from him. “Idiot, stay still. It will hurt more if you struggle.” “Say that to all the girls do you?” You retort flippantly. He glares at you, which makes you feel a little better, you managed to piss him off. Yet you can't help but notice a hint of a smirk at the edge of his mouth, you didn't like where this was going, being this close you could see flickers of what he was thinking, even if they were generally only taunting you. He looks away from you and tilts your chin upwards so he can take a better look. It is only then you realise that he is leaning most of his body weight on you so he was close as he could be to look at your neck. You never thought you would be this close to him again, especially outside of a fight. He smelt, the only way you could describe, as clean, with a hint of cologne. If it had been anyone else you probably would have gone weak at the knees, but you could only feel defenceless and bitter around him. Something about him completely disarmed you, and all you had were your words, which seemed other than an annoyance, completely ineffective. “At least I can control myself around the opposite sex.” He didn't move away from his ministrations. Is he going on about Eren again? What was his problem with him? Your tensing made your muscles ache, and against your better judgement, you relax your body. You hear a small chuckle emanate from your 'personal doctor', he obviously felt the change in your body. His hand moves to the side of your neck and rests it there, supporting your aching muscles. His hands were like Eren's, rough, but so cold, you could almost feel the icy grasp seep into your skin, you decide to   concentrate on the ceiling, rather than the uncomfortable situation. He tilts your head in the opposite direction from him and sighs. “There's no permanent damage, you may have a little scar tissue here.” He traces a finger down a particularly tender part of your neck. It stung, but within that touch, your heart started to beat a little faster and you became increasingly more conflicted in what you were feeling. What the heck was going on? Why were you acting like this? He was an asshole! One that almost killed you!! “No thanks to you.” You reply offhand manner. “Yes, I am aware of that. I do not have any remorse as to what happened, however, I am regretful that you are in unnecessary discomfort.” He distances himself from you and cleans his hands in a wash bowl in the corner of the room. You raise an eyebrow. “Is that some kind of convoluted way of saying sorry?” It would be a bloody miracle if it was, you watch as he dries his hands and settles back down at his desk. “Tsk. Take it as you will.” You sit back down and wrap the discarded scarf back around your neck. You eye him, carefully trying not to draw too much attention to what you were doing. His skin still looked perfect, his black hair falling over his eyes as he wrote. You wonder what he would look like if he actually smiled, probably quite attractive at any rate, if he wasn't a class A prick. You watch his hands as he writes, his hands weren't so much like Eren's at all, on reflection, his were smaller, with slender dexterous fingers. Interesting that you had never noticed these details before, and it frightened you as to where your thoughts were taking you. You reprimand yourself, you were still angry at him, and scared as hell, wondering when he might snap again. Maybe it was because you were so scared that your body was reacting to him like that, almost like a survival instinct. You ponder on whether you would prefer to be killed by a titan or the Captain, it didn't take much thought, you would take your chance with a titan. “You can paint a picture if you like.” You jump as you hear him speak, you didn't realise he had noticed you watching him. You laugh nervously. “What do you know, I'm all out of paint!” You flash him an obviously fake smile and watch him roll his eyes. “Look Captain Ackerman-” “Captain Levi is fine.” “Fine, whatever, Captain Levi. Do you actually need me for something or am I just going to sit here all day?” He raises his eyes to meet yours, his tongue quickly flicking over his bottom lip. “If I require you to sit there then you sit, brat. However, now you mention it I wouldn't mind a cup of tea.” “What?!” He raises his eyebrow. “Black, strong, and bitter.” He lowers his head and returns to his papers. Sighing you get up from your seat. “Are you sure we are talking about tea?” You say as you walk out the door with a smirk. He mumbles something under his breath but you aren't able to catch it. Happy to be out of his office, you almost skip at your new found freedom. You head towards the kitchen, glad to be away from his intense stare and the even colder way that he manhandles you. It shocks you how happy you feel, though why, you couldn't say why. You feel your stomach growl, you hadn't eaten, now you think of it, you hadn't drunk anything either, and felt your head start to feel fuzzy. You make a note to grab something while you are in the kitchen. You are just about to turn the corner when someone grabs your arm and pulls you into an adjacent corridor. With a yelp you land in warm arms, and blink a little at the confusion, only to see blue-green eyes staring back at you. “Eren?” He smiles at you and lets you go. “Heh, Sorry about that. I wanted to get to you before he finds us talking.” His comment sounded strange to you. He finds us? You look at him quizzically. “The girls told me he had sent you to his office. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” “I'm fine Eren. He just creeps me out that's all.” Eren looks at you sceptically. “Has he laid a finger on you?” You couldn't lie, but you didn't want Eren to make things worse. “Well-” You start. “He fucking has, hasn't he!” You can feel the anger radiate off of him. You start to feel yourself shaking, all of this stress had really worn you down. “I'm going to kick the living shit out of him when I see him! I will not have him treat you like this!” “Eren, please. Stop. I can handle this. He just grabbed my chin that was all. Nothing bad, and he was just looking over my neck, that's it. Nothing to worry about.” You weren't going to mention that he had his body pressed up against you for about fifteen minutes, that would only add fuel to the fire. You couldn't believe that you were defending him, in a sense, a few days ago you would have formed a queue for punches, but this situation was so odd, you were confused about what exactly you were meant to do. “He tried to kill you!” He lowers his voice, obviously trying to make sure that your conversation wasn't overheard. He places his hand on the wall behind you, making sure you will listen to him. You were sandwiched between the wall and Eren, another first, you might get an award at this rate. “I really appreciate that you are trying to protect me, and I would do the same for you if the roles were reversed. But I cannot, and will not have someone fight my battles for me. You are so caring-” You place a hand on his cheek and gave him a friendly smile. “And you have no idea how much that means to me, but I will not have you getting involved in this, it would only make things worse.” He places his other hand wall beside your head, you were well and truly trapped now. Your head feels like it's about to explode as a sharp pain rips through your head. Typical now a headache! “He's threatened you! You are going to tell me next that you aren't allowed to talk to me, for some fucked up pathetic reason, but it will be because he knows that you cannot protect yourself from him. Don't you see? I don't know what his aim in all of this is but it can't be good.” “Eren, he-” You feel another wave of dizziness, and a second stabbing pain in your head. Within moments you feel yourself falling and losing consciousness. ~ “Jaeger! What the fuck do you think you are doing?” The sound was fuzzy at first becoming clearer as you come to. You try to lift your head, but with your neck the way it was, it was too much of a struggle. You open your eyes as you see that you are being carried, on the way to the infirmary, with Captain Levi marching towards the both of you. Oh, Shit! “What do you think I am doing?” Eren replies angrily. “I am taking her to the infirmary so she can rest like she is supposed to. Not only is it bad enough that you are the one that caused all of this shit, you make her work when she is meant to be healing!” His voice was getting louder with each word. “Brat, shut your fucking mouth. The orders came from Commander Erwin. Not that I have to explain myself to you. She was off making tea and I came to find her, only to see that she is unconscious and with you.” The Captain sneered at Eren, you can feel Eren's grip tighten on you as you sense him getting angrier. “What does it matter that she is with me? At least she is safe. You almost killed her!” “Safe? May I remind you of what happened to Mikasa, while she was under your protection?” Captain Levi's voice was mocking in tone, face as always, devoid of emotion. You feel Eren's heart beat louder and faster. “You shut the hell up about that! It wasn't like that! This was different, you did it with the full intention of hurting her.” “Tsk.” You hear him tut. This was going to get nasty if you didn't do something to stop them. You wiggle free of Eren's grasp and set your feet on the ground still feeling wobbly. “Both of you, calm down!” Your voice cracks as you speak, and sounds laboured. “Please stop arguing. I don't know why you are butting heads over this.” You look at Captain Levi. “It's true you tried to kill me, for what reason, I'm at a loss. I've never done anything to you to warrant your anger and neither has Eren. You have a problem with me, take it out on me, don't involve him.” You stumble as you begin to take a step towards him. You are caught before you manage to hit the floor and find yourself being held up by the Captain. “(First name)” Eren shouts as he tries to come to your aid, but all you hear is skin hitting skin, you hear Eren grunt and stumble backwards. What the hell had Captain Levi done? You had told them to stop. May as well have been speaking fucking Latin! You try to put weight on your feet again, in an attempt to put an end to this stupid squabble; only for your legs to do a very good impression of jelly on a plate. “That's enough discussion, Jaeger. Go and ask the cooks to make something for her to eat and drink.” Eren tries to object. “Enough. Do as I say!” You hear Eren growl at him and walk away. He picks you up, very much in the same way Eren was carrying you. “For fuck sake woman, can you not doing anything you are told? You have no respect at all, do you? Fucking useless brat.” You look up to meet his face. He seemed angry. Was it because of Eren again? Or the fact that you hadn't made him tea? You feel completely hopeless, being carried by someone your mind hated, your body was scared of and your heart...should bloody well despise him too! You hang your head, ashamed of yourself. “I. I'm sorry Sir.”  You sound, for the first time, remorseful, though really you were just bitterly disappointed in yourself. You hear him chuckle, he doesn't speak, but you know then, whatever battle you were fighting, you had lost. You were soon sat on the sofa in his office feeling particularly sick. All you wanted to do was go to your bed in the dorm and sleep for a week. Whatever had been happening, you still couldn't fathom, why you were still in the Captain's office was any ones guess. A knock at the door echoes into the room. “Enter.” Eren walks in, you can tell he is clenching his teeth and eyes are raging. He must have still been fuming about the remark about Mikasa, you wonder what had happened. It was a cheap shot, even for the Captain. He places the tray on the table in front of you, and you see that the cooks have prepared a bowl of soup and a glass of water for you. You must remember to thank them, it looks delicious, but you know you couldn't eat a mouthful, your stomach turns at the thought of eating it. “Thank you,” You say helplessly. You hate the way you felt, it was so alien to you. This was the first time that an injury had affected you this much, and you hated it. Just as much as you hated what was going on. You see Eren watching you cautiously, he pauses, and you shake your head, looking at him pleadingly, you couldn't take any more fighting. “Go.” Captain Levi commands. With one last glance, Eren resentfully leaves you alone with him again. Great. Feeling sick and being stuck with Mr obnoxious. “Eat.” One word, that's it, just one. Not are you okay? Did you need to sleep? Did you want me to jump off a cliff? Yes. Fucking. Please. “I'm not hungry.” You answer sullenly. He walks round the table and bends down to you, nailing you with his stare. “I told you to eat, so eat.” “I am not hungry, I feel sick.” He sits down next to you stiffly. He seems uncomfortable with the situation. You hear him take a deep breath. “Just eat the fucking food” He pauses. “Please.” You cough as your breath gets stuck in your throat. He just said please. Hell has well and truly frozen over and the dead will rise from their graves! You blink at him aghast, words formulate in your mind but never make it to your mouth. He sighs. “Don't look at me like that. I am more than capable of asking nicely, and as I have done so; Eat!” You try your hardest to eat but only manage a few mouthfuls. You do drink deeply, however, and start to feel less dizzy. You were still reeling that he even knew how to say please, this was definitely a revelation but even eating was unnerving as he just sat there observing that you do as he says. He was really quite odd. “I take this is the reason no one goes out to dinner with you.” You give him a sideways glance, just to see if he reacts. “I have no reason to take anyone out to dinner.” He says matter-of-factly.   “Ah, hah! I'm right! You're a creep, and just a bit of advice, you might make a few friends if you don't try and either insult them or kill them.” He gets up from his seat and sets your tray on the sideboard close to the door. “Fancy yourself as becoming my friend, do you?” His voice gave himself away that he was actually amused. You think back on what you just said and wonder where you went wrong. You shake your head violently, instantly regretting it as your neck reminded you that you are still injured. “No, I didn't sign up for that. I like living. Thanks for the offer, though.” You breathe in relief, glad  you had got yourself out it, completely missing he had just played you. “Such a shame.” The sarcasm just oozed out of his mouth. You clench your teeth as you realise he had completely outwitted you, again. He sits down on the table, where your tray previously sat. “And I had already arranged walks in the park, and feeding the ducks together.” “Thank goodness for that, I hate ducks.” You desperately try to deviate away from the winning look he had in his eyes. You sit back in the sofa, trying to make a bigger gap between you. You stifle a yawn and feel your body desperately fighting off sleep. “Look, I am really tired, Captain Levi. The last couple of days have been deathly tiring.” You shot him a glare of disdain. “But I really need to get some rest. I feel like shit.” He nods, eyes becoming their standard emotionless state, and he stands up. “It would be best if you were to stay in my quarters.” You were half getting up as he said the words and you pause. “Excuse me?” “It is merely for your benefit. My room has a fire, and is also closer to the infirmary if an emergency occurs-” “Like me being murdered” you mutter. He continues, ignoring your comment. “If an emergency occurs, then I will be able to get you to a medic sooner. Believe me, it is an inconvenience, I will have to sleep on the sofa.” “Don't put yourself out Sir” You say in a desperate attempt to get yourself out of his clutches. “The infirmary still has me reserved in for another night of observations, so it would be best really to stay there.” “You will stay here, brat. That is final.” Oh, joy, now you weren't even going to be awake to witness your own death. Maybe he might even write a eulogy explaining your death at your funeral. “For now, however, rest.” He walks you over to the closed door on the opposite side of the room and guides you through. He starts making a fire as you scan your eyes over his room. It was still fairly bare, much like most others, with a few books dotted on tatty dark wood furniture. The bed was neatly made, and in your current state, captivatingly inviting. Gone were your worries of death, you just needed to sleep. You sit on the bed and take your shoes off, slowly, as your neck threatens to cause more pain. You unwrap the scarf from around your neck and slip your jacket off and lay them on the end of the bed. You sit there for a while as you watch the Captain expertly fan the small flames to help the wood catch fire. The flames entrance you being so close to sleep, and even sitting up you can feel yourself drifting off. You feel yourself slipping away, when you hear a 'tsk' close by, and hands pushing you onto the bed ,lifting your feet up so you are fully laying down and cover you up with numerous blankets. You try to say thank you but your body doesn't respond and just before you slip off into sleep you hear the Captain speak, though not to you, as he walks out the room. “What the fuck am I doing?” ~ You wake feeling a little more refreshed and feeling better than you did before your sleep. You look outside to see that it was still daylight. Had you slept at all? Taking your jacket and your boots, you slip them back on quickly, finishing with wrapping your scarf around your neck. You get up, making the bed, and glance at the fire. It was still slowly burning; Captain Levi must have kept it topped up, or not at all, you muse, reminding yourself that it was still light. Walking into the office you don't see the Captain. Taking the chance, you walk out and proceed to the infirmary to get checked over. It didn't take long, and they give you some more salve to put on your skin. It is when you are told it is actually a day later, you had slept all of yesterday and all night. Crap it! You thank them for all their help and make your way to the mess hall, you were desperately hungry. “(first name). I'm so glad I caught you.” Sasha bounds over to you, she seems excited to see you. “It's lunch time!” You laugh, you should have known. “But asides from that, you didn't come back to the dorm last night, and when I looked for you in the infirmary before breakfast you weren't there either.” She squealed. “Were you with Levi? What's going on?” “Nothing is going on Sasha. I stayed in his room because he has a fire.” You speak very slowly for the next part. “He didn't stay in his room.” You made that part very clear, there was very distinctly nothing going on. “Well, people are saying that he did it so he could spend time with you.” You roll your eyes, and laugh, beginning to walk with her to the mess hall. People surely had better things to do rather than gossip, they also needed to get their heads straight. “Really? Come on. He probably just red misted, we have seen so many people do it, there's too many pent up emotions in this place and the fact we are all stuck together. He had a massive fight with Eren yesterday though..” you trail off. “That explains why Eren was moody yesterday then. What did they argue about?” “I don't really know. I don't think he was happy with me being around Eren and he mentioned something about not keeping Mikasa safe.” It still seemed strange to you, half of it, you didn't understand. “Oh, yeah. When Eren turned into a titan to block up the wall he went for her. Could have been quite nasty.” She paused and changed the subject. “But, he wasn't happy with you and Eren, surely that must tell you he likes-” You clap your hand over her mouth as you reach the hall, and place a finger on your lips to show silence. “Enough, he is an asshole! It doesn't matter whether he does or not, nothing is going on.” You glare at her as she inanely giggles at you. Maybe talking to her wasn't such a good idea. You make your way to the far end of the hall and grab your lunch. You take the chance to thank the cooks for your food yesterday and walk off to find your teammates. “Well well look who it is, Mrs Ackerman.” You hear Jean jeer at you. “Don't tell me you're listening to that shit as well? I thought better of you.” You roll your eyes as you sit down next to Armin. “Hi (first name)” Armin greats you smiling. “Hey, Armin. You don't believe the crap that everyone is gossiping about do you?” He was one that you hoped wouldn't be swayed by the rumours. “I don't think that Captain Levi likes anyone particularly. Just hates us all equally.” He offers you a reassuring smile, you could have hugged him. You feel triumphant that you had managed to find someone who actually possessed a thought for themselves. Worrying really, the saviours of humanity couldn't work out fiction from reality. “Thank goodness. I honestly thought everyone had gone mad.” You laugh and begin to eat. “I think there is something in it, though.” You gaze across at the voice opposite you, Mikasa, chin resting in her hands looking thoughtful. You can't believe that Miss Stoic was actually entertaining the idea. Maybe you were still in a dream. “No, think about it. He gives you a hard time from the get-go, punishes you for the silliest things, especially if Eren is involved, and then loses his temper, really hurts you and then spends the next day keeping an eye on you.” “I am really disappointed in you Mikasa, I expected you of all people to know it was all bullshit.” She gives you a dismissive look and shifts her weight onto her other hand. “I am just giving my opinion. The facts are there to see, it's just how you put it all together.” “Wrongly, that's what it is.” Eren sits down at the table next to Mikasa. “I don't care who it is, no one should treat anyone like that, especially my friends.” You smile at the thought of Eren calling you a friend, it was a very lovely sound to hear. Sasha bounds up to the table and joins in the conversation. “Oh don't get all angry again Eren. He likes her it's obvious, we need to do something to get him to show her.” “NO!” Everyone shouted, at least they were in agreement with that. If by some twisted reality they were right, then him 'showing he liked her' was a death wish. Sasha's face fell and sat down at the table quietly. You had stopped eating, you didn't feel hungry anymore. You look despondently at your food and sigh. “Hey, don't worry about it. Have you put more of that cream on your neck today?” Eren changes the subject, your shoulders relax in relief, you had had your fill of stupid gossiping for the day. You shake your head and pull out a small bottle out of your pocket to show him. He nods, walks round the table and gets Armin to shuffle up so he can sit facing you. “You want me to do it? Take your scarf off then and I'll put it on.” You wind the scarf off your neck hesitantly, you didn't want the whole squad to see. You hear gasps from your table and other tables around you. You close your eyes, trying to pretend that you were somewhere else. You feel Eren shuffle closer to you. “It's okay, just ignore them. Right, this will probably hurt, grab my hand again, like last time and I'll get it done as quickly as possible.” You nod, move your hand to his, your eyes still shut tightly. You gasp as he starts applying it, it stings like a bitch. You grab his hand as he runs his fingers across your skin, you can feel your eyes watering at the pain and you bite your lip. One day you would make Captain Levi pay for this pain, you promised. Finally, he finished and you breathed deeply, opening your eyes. Everyone was still looking at you, horrified. “I am so sorry (first name)” Sasha stutters. “Yeah, shit I'm sorry if I knew he was hurting you that badly I would have got him off of you” Jean adds, you can see his eyes were full of guilt. “Don't worry guys, honestly it's fine.” You wrap your scarf around your neck once more and feel the  hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Your eyes widen, as you see the look on Eren's face, you turn quickly to see Captain Levi striding towards your table. How long had be been there?You stand up quickly to stop his advance. “Captain Levi, what can we do for you?” You are shocked to see that he is almost boiling over with anger. Eren stands up behind you, you reach out behind you and put your hand on his chest to stop him from coming closer. You see the Captain, try to compose himself. “You did not report to me as soon as you awoke.” You raise an eyebrow, that wasn't what he was angry about, you could see that quite clearly. “I had to go to the infirmary for more cream and a check up. I then came here to have some lunch. I am eating like I was told to do so. So there is no problem here is there?” You said firmly, you were not having these two starting a row in the middle of lunch. Captain Levi had to maintain a sense of decorum around his subordinates. “You completely disregarded a direct order, brat.” You could feel everyone around you starting to tense. Eren was trying to push your hand away but you stood firm. You had your friends around you, you weren't going to back down now and you were fed up of being called a brat. “My name is (first name, Last name), not brat! And what order was that sir? The one where I am not allowed to talk to anyone? Or a new one that I am not allowed to let anyone help me put cream on the injury that you caused?” You heard a few intakes of breath and everything was silent. “No, it was back chatting me!” He grabs your wrist and yanks you towards him. “You will not fucking disobey me again” He jerks you so hard you lose your balance and start stumbling towards him, in the same moment he starts pulling you down the hall. “No fucking way” You hear Eren shout and footsteps behind you. You look back and see Jean and a few others holding Eren back. He tries his best to get loose but fails. You hear someone trying to calm down and Armin runs off to go and find Erwin. You try to get your arm back but without much luck, you wonder how you ended up in this situation again. You were just beginning to feel normal again and he had to start acting weird. What the hell was his problem? “Why are you such a fucking idiot?” He was still dragging you, you hadn't a clue where you were going. “I ask you to stay away from Eren and as soon as you can, you go straight back to him. It disgusts me.” “I haven't got a clue what you are talking about! I honestly must be missing something here, you are acting like an asshole for no reason and I don't know why!”He stops dead, causing you to crash into him. “You really are a fucking idiot” He grabs your other wrist and pushes you into the wall behind you. The thud jerks your neck instantly, and you start to panic, he was going to kill you there and then. Within the next second, you feel his lips on yours, in a hard, rough kiss. You freeze, what the fuck was this?! What the fuck was he doing?! You try to wiggle free of his hands, which he grips tighter, stopping you completely. You felt like you were watching in third person just watching it all happen, and scream internally as you see yourself relaxing into the kiss and letting him deepen the kiss. You were completely insane, maybe this was your dying wish because you would be in the ground before the night ended. If he didn't kill you, you'd dig the grave yourself. “Ahem, Levi. A word.” The kiss stopped, and you turn your head to see Erwin. You watch Levi walk off still giving you an angry glare. What the actual fuck?

[21forestglades]

Sick Fic

@macgyvercairo

The next time his eyes open, it’s snowing again.

Mac blinks slowly, grimacing at the pounding behind his eyes. The snow dusted forest seems like it was waiting for him, snowflakes dancing languidly in the air, stolen from their slow descent as they get caught in the breeze. The branches sway above him in greeting. Mac’s stomach churns. It wasn’t as dark before... before...

When did he stop walking?

He shifts in the snow, body stiff. Pulling in a deep breath of air only serves to burn his lungs. The fog around his mind remains, exhaustion surging up like a wave, threatening to take him under once again. Mac swallows. His hands twitch, searching for something in the snow to ground him. Keep him awake.

There's an urgency, in the back of his mind. Something he's forgetting. He just knows he needs to stay awake.

This is the drugs.

When the drugs had first kicked in, that phrase had been Macgyver’s only strong tether to reality. Hours before, in the back of his mind, Mac knew it was the drugs. It was easy to keep track of what was real and what wasn’t. Logic won out over the haziness. After he had escaped the compound, however, the exhaustion added it’s toll. The stretches of time between alertness and blurred reality started to worsen, and the lines distinguishing the two started to disappear under the snow, lost as the drug coursed through his system. Pertinent information bled into hallucinations. The hallucinations bled into memories. It only got worse from there.

Hours ago, Mac knew it was the drugs. The phrase wasn’t just a fleeting thought that he hoped to grasp unto. Hours ago, this information concerned him.

Now, he can barely remember reason for even being out in the snow in the first place.

Come on, brother.

Jack. Mac forces another breath, letting the burn in his chest clear part of his head. He's not sure how long he's been walking. At the least, it's been hours. His feet were past the state of being numb, almost as if they were no longer a part of him. Absent. He lets his eyes drop back to his boots. Still there. That's... that's good. But it’s not the only thing that’s off. His back is numb, a telltale sign of... something. It means the cold has finally soaked through his jacket. That’s... dangerous. He blinks his eyes open, not sure when they shut.

He needs to take it off.

Mac's head spins as he pushes himself to his knees, black spots exploding in his vision. Swallowing back the nausea that has persisted since the drug was first administered, his fingers fumble with the zipper. He lost motor function in his fingers hours ago. It didn’t matter a few minutes ago. He forgot about it, actually. But there's a reason for needing it, now. A reason for, for taking... He can't get it.

He rips off his gloves with his teeth, letting them drop forgotten into the snow. Desperation drives him forward, but even then, his fingers fail to grab hold the zipper. Panic wells, though he's not sure why. He resorts to his teeth once again, biting the zipper between his chattering teeth. The air is like needles to his skin when he finally tears the jacket off, following quickly with the windbreaker beneath it. When it's over, layers of clothing tossed in the snow, Mac can only breathe as the world swims before him. The shivers become worse, a rythym he can't track or control. The world blurs.

“My, my, Macgyver. Look at you. Why, you’re practically half-dead.”

Snow crunches in the snow behind him.

Heart stuttering to a stop, Mac doesn't even have time to turn before arms suddenly wrap around his chest, lifting him up in the air and closing around his throat. Memories slam into him, not of Murdoc but of the compound and the the torture and the drugs.

This is the drugs please be the drugs please be-

As the hold tightens, it almost completely cuts off his air supply. Mac chokes on a cry. Terror builds in his throat, stealing what air is left from his constricted airway as any hope of this being another hallucination is dashed. Someone is yelling. Kicking his his legs out, Mac struggles for purchase in the deep snow. His frozen hands scramble at the arm around his neck. Black seeps into his vision, enveloping the fireworks. Something sharp sinks into his neck, warmth spreading in his veins, and white terror explodes in his chest. A noise of pain escapes between two desperate, sharp gasps for air. His fingers tighten in his shirt. He hunches over as far as he can manage. But he can't escape. He can't and the drugs will kick in again and he can't hecan'thecan'the-

BANG

His assailant jerks violently, and Macgyver barely recognizes the sensation of falling before he hits the ground with a grunt. The world sparks out.

In that moment, the world is underwater. Mac blinks, eyes open but unseeing. The exhaustion is a weight on his chest. He's not able to breathe. The exhaustion is pulling him deeper into the snow. Warning bells become muddled, world darkening from gray to black as he is dragged further underneath the waves. He’s drowning...

Mac drags in a desperate gasp of air as he resurfaces. Every sense fires back to life. His lungs burn, heart racing in his ears, and the white snow is painfully bright, stinging his face and soaking into his cotton shirt. He's in trouble. He kicks out his leg, kicking back the tendrils of exhaustion as he swallows hard. They're tracking him. His torturers. Hunting him. He needs to... they were going to... going to... The drug swallows the rest.

When something, someone, grabs him, lifting up from behind once again, overwhelming dread crashes through him. The world flickers.

“Mac.”

Macgyver's mind kick-starts, his chest tightening. Jack isn't here. He slams his head back again, hitting flesh, but this attacker doesn't budge, only holding tighter and it hurts and please he was already dying and why isn't that enough?

“Hoss.”

This is the drugs. This is the drugs, Mac.

The drugs are spreading through his system like a fire now, slowing everything down in their wake. Finally, he goes limp against who is holding him. The adrenaline drains from him in a torrent.

Escaping the compound was a desperate gamble.

One he apparently lost.

““Come on, brother. Respond to me.”

Mac barely recognizes when he's placed back in the snow, feet away from where his other assailant lies. The cold doesn't burn him, anymore. He's too cold to feel it. Numb. His body's no longer shaking.

It's not... not a good sign.

“Just give me a sign, Mac.”

Jack. The name almost hurts. He didn't deserve this, Mac thinks, not quite sure why they weren't cutting off his air anymore. The world is quiet, white noise filling in the silence. Jack had spent years by Mac’s side, protecting him, guiding him. To have it all end here, for Jack to find out that Mac failed and died in a frozen tundra? It adds to the tightness in his chest. It wasn’t Jack’s fault. Mac shouldn't have left the campsite. Neither of them knew that they were being followed. Jack can't carry that to his grave. He can’t think that Mac ever blamed him. This was his own fault.

Someone's holding his shoulder, keeping him upright. Another wave is forming in the back of his mind, building in the distance. A promise that he doesn’t have much time left. Distantly, Mac realizes that tears had begun to slowly track down his face.

Was Zoe this cold before she died? His eyes flutter, threatening to close. When the icy water sloshed up past her knees, her waist, about to overtake her head, did she ever feel warm? He couldn't save her. Why couldn't he save her? The world spins dangerously, tilting to one side. Mac rolls his head with it, wondering if he'll fall off into the darkness below. He's so, so tired.

Maybe he'll see her.

“Geez, kid.”

A hand moves in his peripheral, and then Jack is there. Jack is there, his vision blurred by Mac’s tears, like a sick repeat of that night in the war room. This time, the roles are reversed, Jack being forced to watch as Mac finally succumbs to the cold. Terrified. Helpless. At least the real Jack won't have to watch.

Jac- no, not Jack, his hallucination, looks just how Mac had imagined he would look, tense and concerned and wrapped in too many layers “because I hate the cold, Mac.” He slurs out an apology, trying to wipe at his eyes, because even Jack's hallucination shouldn't have to be cold. Murdoc wasn't cold.

“It's okay, brother.” When Jack reaches for him Mac flinches back. Pain always shattered the hallucinations, and he just wants to sleep .Of all the hallucinations he's had, please let this be the one he accepts that warm embrace with. He was done fighting. He'll stop here, with Jack.

Real or not.

But his flinch doesn't deter the hallucination, because it's reaches forward, outward, concern painted all over his face. He, it, Jack, grabs onto his shoulder. It's strong, painful, reigniting every bruise from the last two days. Fear constricts around his chest. But then the fog clears and he's not back in the compound, and there are no syringes or brass knuckles or ropes, just Jack.

Just Jack.

Jack's still there.

For a moment, the world stills. Mac lets out a strangled breath. “J-Jack?”

“Yeah,” Jack, Jack, shifts, laughing wetly as he wipes at his nose, and why was there blood? “Yeah, kid, right here. I'm right here, Mac. Are you back with me?”

Relief hits him like a truck, and Mac doesn't realize he's falling forward until Jack grabs him. The older agent is talking, and it's too loud and too fast, or maybe he just can't keep up. He hasn't been keeping up. Mac barely recognizes the steadying hand that remains on his shoulder, pushing him back up to a sitting position. His body feels heavy, his head light. The tears don't stop dripping down his face.

“Hold on, Mac. Hold on. Man, brother, do you realize how messed up you are right now?”

And then Jack is touching him, warm, solid, there, hands brushing over the bruising on his arms, neck, and torso as he checks for any serious damage. Mac can only blink now, taking in every detail. Sleep's tendrils still wrap around his mind, promising. But he can't listen to it. Not now. His eyes flick over his crease between Jack's brows, the redness of his cheeks, the snowflakes caught on his jacket. His breath catches every time he inhales, disbelieving. Even the pain is background noise at this point, Jack in the forefront. He can't... he can't be real.

Is this the drugs?

“Geez, Mac, you're freezing.”

And then Jack is pulling off his soaked shirt. Mac lets him. Everything feels heavy, distant, and maybe he can still drown. The wave is closer, daunting as it looms in the horizon. Jack moves slowly, oblivious to the water, working the sleeves off his arms. It's already been pulled over his head, Mac realizes. Jack presses warm fingers against the inside of Mac's wrist.

Mac's eyes fall to his hands, almost uncomfortable with the warmth as Jack holds his arm steady. His fingers were... blue? They shouldn't be... shouldn't be blue...

“Hey, hey. You stay with me, brother.” Suddenly, Jack's snapping in front of his face, pulling Mac from a brink he didn't even know he stood on. It's... terrifying. Dangerous. He lets his shaking fingers twist into the sleeve of Jack's shirt. Grounding him. Finally, he has something to ground him.

Don’t be the drugs.

“Easy. Right here. I'm right here. Haven't left ya. Hold on.”

And it doesn't make sense. “J'ck...”

“I know, Mac. Give me a minute.” Jack zips down his jacket. Mac's grip tightens. Every muscle tenses, and it hurts. He's shaking his head, even as Jack pulls off the layer and drapes it around his shoulders It's too cold not to be wearing a jacket. Jack should know this. Jack can't freeze too. Jack can't die with him.

He is helpless to stop it, though, as Jack zips the over-sized jacket up around Mac's form. Jack grabs Mac's numb hands, thumbs brushing over the rope burns circling his wrists, and puts them in the deep pockets. Warm needles prick his fingertips.

This is the drugs.

“It's not. It's not the drugs, okay? I'm right here.” Jack's punching something into his phone, one hand holding Mac up. His hunt and peck method is even slower with one hand, and for some reason Mac can't help but chuckle at it. He wonders why Jack looks even more concerned. He doesn't understand how Jack is there.

“Why did you take off your jacket, huh?”

Mac blinks in confusion, a low buzz growing louder in his ears. The exhaustion is settling in his chest, making it harder to breathe. His mind blanks with the answer. He... he had a reason. He meets Jack's eyes, eyes blown wide, and then he turns towards the forest. Panic starts building in his throat. He took off his jacket but he had a-

“Hey, hey, Mac, it's okay. I don't need to know. Not yet. You just stay with me. You're stronger than this, you hear me?” Jack's talking to him. Mac blinks, raising his eyes to meet Jack's. He finds his smile. “That's right. Just stay with me, brother. You did good, and we're going to get you out of here. Get you to a hospital. No more of whatever's going on up there, all right?”

The older agent looks close to tears. Somehow, that was his fault. Mac swallows, because it always was. Was the blood trickling down from Jack's nose his fault too?

Abruptly, Jack moves, leaning forward, and Mac flinches out of instinct. The sharp movement sends the forest into a spiral, spinning and tunneling, and suddenly the whole world drops out from underneath him. He's falling. Falling into the darkness and wait not now I'm not ready-

Familiar hands grab him, halting his descent, and then he is lifted up away from the inky waters.

Jack's talking to someone else, Mac realizes slowly. The gray retreats from his vision. He rolls his head upwards, and the trees are moving. No, he's moving. Jack's holding him, carrying him, trekking through the forest. Was it east?

The world tilts once again.

Maybe he makes a noise, because suddenly Jack pauses, calling out Mac's name. His voice is distant. But he's there. He's right there. Mac breathes through the nausea, nodding once to let him to know that he's okay, he'll be fine. Jack's there.

This... this can't be the drugs.

Jack doesn't respond for a moment, and Mac is suddenly unsure if the nod looked any different than the tremors that have begun to wrack his frame once again. Mac forces out another breath. Wonders if he needs to try to speak.

“Okay, Mac, hold on. Just a little longer, brother.”

But Jack knows. He always does.

It's when the helicopter comes into sight that Jack starts talking directly to Mac again. It's a soothing flow of words, something about Bozer and hot chocolate and blankets. He's past the point where he can focus on them. Instead, Mac lets the words wash over him, comforting his frayed senses. He buries his nose into the jacket, welcoming the comforting smell of leather and cologne that was just Jack. This is... this is safe.

This isn't the drugs.

Finally, safe in Jack's arms, Mac lets his eyes drift close.

[canadian-buckbeaver]

Give Me a Chance (ch.3)

Prologue:  You cheated on Stretch with Red, a mistake that you would never forgive yourself for.  Once Stretch found out, he broke up with you and cut all ties. You can’t move on.

Another day.  More pain.  You sat on your bed, slowly rubbing the sleep from your eyes.  You knew that it was late afternoon by the way that the sun was trying to burn through your curtains.  Another day, slept away.

You didn't care.  You no longer cared.  Time was nothing.

How could anything hurt so bad? All you felt was pain these days.  There was no joy, no love.  You felt empty and then pain. Your very heart wanted to explode.  You wanted to leave this earthly plane if only not to feel like this anymore.

Your friends had been so kind, texting and calling, trying to encourage you to come outside again.  To live again.

But you couldn't.

Not without him.

Stretch... your soulmate.  Your everything...

How could you have been so stupid?  How could you throw him away like it was nothing?  Just for a mistake?

It wasn't Red's fault, you knew that.  Blaming the sharp skeleton was your way of guarding yourself.  Of protecting your own image from yourself.  It wasn't like you had been forced against your will. You had just loved the feeling of being wanted. Stretch had been flirted with the entire time the two of you were a thing and it had driven you crazy.

He had never given into temptation though. He belonged to you alone.

And now... now he didn't.

Stupid.

You held the bear tight in your arms, sniffing as you felt the burning sting of tears return.  Why.... why didn't you say no? Why couldn't you go back in time and fix everything?  If only for a split second you would right all wrongs.  You would make his favourite honey cookies again, watch as he ate them with that soft look in his eyes and...

There was a knock on your door.

Freezing, you turned to look at the door.  The apartment you lived in was one of the most secure in the area. So it was probably one of your neighbours checking in on you, making sure that you didn't die.

You should probably answer the door. Before management called your parents again. With a sigh, you  rolled out of bed, not even caring to fix your appearance.  No one cared what you looked like anyways. They knew that you were a shut in, probably a few years from becoming a crazy cat lady.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door.  You froze at the sight, your eyes taking in a tall, lanky form.  The familiar orange hoodie and black sweatpants. "Stretch?" you managed to whisper out.  It couldn't be.  Not after everything.

He looked tired and defeated.  The eye lights were dim and a darker orange than you remembered, and the bags under his eyes were darker and deeper than before you realized, another jolt of guilt rushing through your body.  You had hurt him. He gave a sigh, looking up and down the hallway before looking back at you. "can I come in?" he asked, "or would you prefer me to stand out in the hallway?"

"Oh! Come in!" You stepped aside, watching as he slowly came in.  Every detail of him seemed in hyperfocus.  Every curve of bone, every small, minute scratch.

You couldn't take your eyes off of him.  The last time you had seen him was when he saw that large mark on your neck.

You wouldn't to absorb every detail to memory.  Just in case.

The skeleton settled easily on the couch, like he belonged there.  He didn't say anything to you yet.  He folded his legs and looked down at his hands, staring at them like he had never seen them before.

Careful not to break the spell, you settled next to him, not saying a word.  You could barely breathe.  Stretch was here, in your room.

The atmosphere was tense between you two.  Thick and dry, quiet and all encompassing, settling around the two of you like a thick, unwelcome fog.  At the back of your mind you could remember when it was light and airy, the air sparking between you two.

Seemed like that too was nothing more than a distant memory.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, finally Stretch gave a sigh and looked at you.  His eyes were hurt but lacked the signs of indifference.  "Why?" he demanded.  "Why did you do it? Was I not enough for you?  Was there something that I had missed?"

You jumped slightly, not expecting him to be so direct. It was your turn to look at your hands as you shook your head.  You couldn't meet his eyes. You couldn't bear to see what you had done to him.  "No... it.. it was stupid... a mistake.  I'll... I'll always regret it... you and I... we were the best thing that ever happened to me."

"then why did you throw it all away? there has to be a reason."

Again you shook your head.  "I... I don't know."

There was a cold silence, the tension being replaced with heavy anger.  "you don't know." he repeated back to you, spitting the words like venom.  He adjusted his posture, staring at you.  "tell me, what's so hard to answer?  is the question too difficult for you?  or perhaps you don't know why you decided to fuck another monster?  or was it a 'moment of passion' that you will always want to forget?" His fingers were clenched into fists, shaking with anger.

He had never sounded like this before.  But he was right.  He deserved his own closure after what you did to him.

"I just... I was scared.  I loved you so much and..."

"so you decided that making me hate you was the perfect solution to this?"

"It wasn't that!  I could see how the others looked at you and..."

"did you see me looking back at them?"

"No, but-"

"i'm not understanding."

"Please just let me finish!" You begged him, tears already forming in your eyes.  Stretch scoffed at your emotions, looking away.

But he did not speak.

It was a sign that he was open to listen.

"I... I hated how the others looked at you.  How they would flirt with you, how they would judge me for being with you. When Red first started flirting and putting the moves on me... I had first thought it a way to get back at you.  That there would be others who wanted me too. That you weren't the only one who could have options... but I... it went too far.  After I got drunk and I was upset with you, Red listened to me.  He heard me talk about how much I loved you and needed you and how the others hurt... one thing led to another and... and then..."  You couldn't say it.  He already knew what had trapised that night.

"why didn't you say anything to me?" he asked you, eye sockets narrowing.  "if this was supposed to be a partnership, why didn't you say that this was bothering you?"

"I was already labeled as jealous from Muffet.  I didn't want to add any more fuel to the fire.  I just..." your eyes filled with tears again.  "I miss you... I need you Stretch. I love you so much it hurts.  I can't be another day without you.  PLease.  You're my everything. I am so, so, so sorry. If I could do anything to go back in time and fix it I would.  I would never get jealous of the other girls.  I would know that you were mine.  I would cook your favourite cookies every day, make more puns and jokes... I just...."

His fingers tipped your chin up, letting you look into his eye sockets.  They were warmer now having lost the cold anger and indifference that once filled them.  Perhaps...

"i missed you too." he said, as you felt your heart skip a beat.  "i didn't want to, but i did. i though about you every day. it destroyed me." he sighed, looking at you.  "but, but perhaps that was my mind trying to convince me to give you a second chance."

Your heart fluttered at his words, your lungs wheezing softly.  It was everything that you had wanted to hear.  Everything that you had dreamed about and now...

"Stretch..." you whispered, leaning in to him just as he began to lean in towards you. Your lips touched his teeth and there was that familiar crackle of magic, sparks between the two of you.

* * * * * *

You woke with a start, the static from your blanket waking you from your dream. You sat up, looking around your room, the treacherous blanket slipping from your shoulders. You were in your bed, all the sheets gathered at the bottom, your pillow tossed away in some far corner. It was dark, probably still late at night or early morning.

You were all alone except for the teddy bear in your arms. There was no Stretch.  There was no kiss.

There was no forgiveness or make up.

You were all alone.

Your eyes filled with tears, your throat constricting and you began to sob. Why... why of all dreams to wake from... why was it that one?  The one tiny, shred of warmth, the small feather of hope that came with the dream had been ripped from you, leaving you exposed and raw.

Whimpers turned into full sobs as you allowed your emotions full control of your body.  Sobbing, you seized your prized teddy bear, the one Stretch had won for you, and curled up in a ball on your bed.  Surrendering to the sadness, you allowed the darkness to take over.

[toukaisbetterthanyou]

I come again bearing a long review to spam your blog because I don't know how to add the read more cutoff line

I wish I could add gifs to this, sadly you’ll have to deal with the wall of text and mountain of salt because I just got off a 36 hour shift from hell. I did sneak a peek at the Ayahina fluff so I am saving that for after I finish this because I have a feeling- based on last week’s ending- that this chapter will royally piss me off- in a good way.

I am also going to play a little game with this chapter based on this because I just recently read this book on recognizing emotionally abusive relationships so I am going to check anything that fits Touken in this AU.

/I am sorry in advance for any poor comprehension this reaction will show. 36 hours with only 30 minutes of sleep in them./

– and even ignores the phone calls that she received on her cell phone. After the first day at his flat, she turns it off entirely. He can’t hold back a smile from seeing her do that.

And here we go. Touka, baby girl, y u do dis? Those are your family and friends. I realize they have been less than understanding about the whole situation but you’re ghosting them for the goth fuckboy?!

He would miss her once he was gone.

/EXPLODING IN RAGE/ YOU LITTLE BITCH! IF YOU HAD A DECENT BONE IN THAT RIPPED BODY OF YOURS YOU WOULD LET THE POOR WOMAN GO! Not that I am absolving Touka of the blame here, she is willingly going along with this but he is seriously pissing me off. I realize his love is supposed to be selfish but imho, that line proves there isn’t much love to begin with because he hasn’t yet considered changing his plans for Touka and/or the baby.

Sex had always helped her forget her problems. When Ken is inside of her, she doesn’t have to worry about the growing child inside of her, or Nishiki and Yomo-san, or her own anxiety about whether this child was even viable.

The trouble always came after.

You feel bad about yourself when you are around him. [✔]

You only feel good about yourself when you are with him. [✔]

This isn’t love.

She just wants it to be. Badly.

At least we can rejoice in knowing she is self-aware.

She could fool herself into believing that it would last. That he was doing this out of love and not some misplaced selfishness in finally having something to call his own.

She was hurting too, and in a moment of resigned irony, accepted it.

She would play the fool and take what she was given.

You find yourself accepting him “for now,” even though you have plenty of red flags that would help you terminate the relationship if you paid attention to them. [✔]

How funny that Kaneki of all people was taking her out on a date? After everything they had gone through, it was laughable that the prospect of a date was what really tripped her up.

Babe, it’s part of the “not giving any fucks” attitude a lot of people with concrete suicidal ideation have. It should trip you up!

or she’d go to the chateau, and later, his flat.

I thought she avoided the chateau because of the murder babies in it? I am interested in knowing more details about this, would any of the Qs know about her? Would this affect the story?I want Saiko!

Even back then – long ago, there hadn’t been a label placed on what they did. She had viewed it as stress relief, and who better to sleep with then the sweet boy that he had been? She had realized too late what he had meant to her, and by that point he had become an entirely different person.

I was under the impression they had a one night stand before the raid but this paragraph is making me imagine they had a thing going for longer than that which would be really interesting to contrast with their current relationship.

Still, nothing had changed. He was still a dove. He was still choosing to kill ghouls.

She tries not to think about it.

Your value system and his are very different, and it is problematic. [✔]

I have been thinking about this since last chapter tbh. I come from a minority that has suffered genocide in its history and I kept wondering if I would ever actually date someone who was an accomplice to the murder of my people and the mere thought of that made me feel disgusted with myself.

I know Touka is self-loathing and does not value her ghoul nature but even so, being with someone who works and profits from killing her species (or race?) would just add to the slew of issues she has going. Especially when you consider she started re to be a haven for ghouls the way Anteiku was and now she was sleeping with the enemy, the internal conflict must be out of this world and no result of it would be positive.

What are you trying to do right now? The question is lodged in her throat, like lead. Did he really want them to be together? Did he truly want a family with her? Or was this some sort of elaborate scheme to cage her even further?

…

She’s the oddest mix of ecstatic and devastated. Her hands tremble around the bunny. It was an adorable little thing – so cute. This was nice of him to do, wasn’t it? Ken was always doing nice things like this for her. Things that made her fall for him a little more each time. She’s almost hysterical.

You feel uncomfortable about something he has said or done, and the feeling remains. [✔]

You think he’s too charming or a little “too good to be true.“ [✔]

But I have to admit that the bunny date idea is quite adorable. I wonder if those actually exist? I don’t want to Google and be disappointed. I do find it tragic that this is something Touka would enjoy but she is so melancholy right now that she can’t ease up and forget about everything for 30 minutes to pet a bunny.

 “Do you want to buy it?” Ken asks, watching her as she sets it back into the pen.

Sure, dick, bring in another life to abandon later. The more the merrier. Why not adopt a couple of impoverished children while you’re at it? 

“Why not?” Ken asks, “You’ll be living with me now. There’s no reason for you to work, so you’ll have plenty of time.”

I’m sorry? Who the fuck do you think you are? Did you accidentally get into Marty McFly’s car and transported yourself back to the 1950s?

“Yes,” he responds, still smiling that cheerful smile of his. The dimple on the side of his cheek seems to be taunting her.

SOCK HIM AGAIN TOUKA! SOCK THE BASTARD RIGHT IN THAT FUCKING DIMPLE OF HIS!

“You’ll need help with the baby,” he says, in a very matter of fact kind of way. “I don’t want you to be alone in case there are any complications.”

Oh, good to know you are considering complications but before you imprison her in some flat with a disgruntled reception office employee, have you considered getting her a doctor? Prenatal vitamins at least? Moving away from the CCG who want her dead? A college fund for the kid? Finding a place to live? I doubt the CCG will just ignore your apartment after you go rogue on them and you want her to be there when it happens? May as well put a bulls eye billboard on top of your apartment building.

And who is going to help with the baby? Will your ghost ass drop by from the afterlife to change a couple of diapers? Maybe rock the baby to sleep? What a shit excuse.

“I won’t let that happen,” he says stubbornly.

Unless he is planning a Samson style suicide attack on the CCG, I have no idea how he could possibly do that from beyond the Cochlea compactor.

“Where are we?” She wanted to go home. This entire day had been tiring and her mood only continued to worsen.

You are emotionally tired from him; you feel he “sucks the life out of you." [✔]

He answers, getting out of his side to open the passenger door to help her out.

At least he’s being a gentleman?

“We need to start shopping for them, or else we won’t have enough time after they get here.”

We? We? We?!!! What we is he fucking talking about?! That’s it, this proves he believes in reincarnation or something. Either that or he’s taking Touka and the kid with him when goes to get his ass kicked by his dad. 

I don’t think I can explain how much his attitude is pissing me off!

No, she couldn’t do this. But his grip on her arm was firm and he looks at her with a pensive stare, almost like he was trying to make amends.

Touka, babe, embrace your inner Chuck Norris and roundhouse kick him in the face!

Once we get home, those words make her feel good, pathetically enough.Stupid , one word from him was enough to make that pathetic, longing part of swell with misplaced hope

/ugly crying/ mods, y u do dis?

He holds up a little jacket, too small to belong to a child. It was pink and soft looking, the insides lined with fleece.

There were bunny ears attached to the hood.

He gives her a wry smile.

“What do you think?”

Dirty move, Ken. Dirty fucking move. I am 19 weeks pregnant now and I crack at the sight of any baby items, using bunny ears to break down her defenses is such a dirty move.

On a side note, the image of the goth reaper in a sea of pastels and waddling pregnant women is making me laugh so hard. That image is not enough for me to forgive you for this chapter though.

What would they act like? How would she – be with them? She’s always liked kids, but to be a parent? She wonders how her mother had done it?. How had she brought in two children into their world, even knowing that it wasn’t a safe place for them? How did her father support her knowing that any moment, one of them could be snatched away?

/ugly wailing/ 

This makes her blink. Too late? Too late for what? “What do you mean?” He doesn’t answer her, and instead lifts her dress up over her hips, and palms her over her panties. Then, he’s hastily removing his gloves and sliding his hand underneath the elastic band to touch her directly. She loses track of what she had been attempting to say.

Using sex to ignore present problems, kinda like how you got into your current predicament. Nothing new to see here.

Maybe this could work. 

Don’t be stupid.

Maybe he was changing. Things could be different now

Don’t delude yourself.

This honestly breaks my heart. I am alternating between NO and YES so fast that my head is getting whiplash.

Then, she asks again.

“What do you mean by too late?”

…

“Answer my question,” she says, this time taking only the head into her mouth and hollowing her cheeks as she sucks

Aha, the deepthroat interrogation technique. Classic. Can’t say I haven’t used it myself. I am sure the CCG would get a lot further with their investigations if they used it in Cochlea.

“T-There’s never enough time,” he says weakly. “With you. Being with you. Like this,” is the only sentence that he has the presence of mind to string together. She has a feeling that’s not all there was to it, but she’s satisfied with his answer for now.

That is such a half assed  answer and Touka, dear, I don’t know how you could possibly be satisfied with it. You have his cock in your mouth, that means you have the upper hand, play it!

not ripping them to shreds because she would be upset.

So you didn’t mind her getting upset before? What a piece of shit.

She can’t respond when he begins to suck her pert nipples into peaks, kneading the swollen breasts and making her quake from the sensitivity she felt.

When my fiance did that, he ended up with tinnitus from how loud I screamed so lucky you Kaneki, lucky you.

“You’re mine,” He whispers, with an excited smile, “All mine,” And then, “It’s just going to be us.”

Now read that with the soundtrack to any thriller film and tell me it doesn’t fit perfectly.

He’s never been like this during sex. So attentive. Well, he was always attentive – like giving her pleasure was more of an impulse, something that he needed, rather than something that he actually did for her benefit. It had gotten him off to make her come, to make her delirious from her pleasure. This feels – different now, though.

/screams into the night/ I didn’t think it was possible for me to like this dick any less but here I am, somehow sinking lower into the abyss. I thought you did rough sex before because you both liked it? But now he stopped for the baby or because he may have feelings for her? So you are really embracing your fuckboy status?

Her earlier worry about his behavior was becoming less and less of a concern. Maybe it was idiotic of her to trust him – to blindly have faith in him this way, but maybe he was right.

Maybe they could finally be a family.

You make excuses for why you are dating him. [✔]

You make excuses for his character and minimize his behavior. [✔]

“Why do you need to go back to Re?” Ken asks, watching as she places her phone and the keys that he had given her into her purse. “I told you that you didn’t need to work.”

…

“What if they tell you not to come back?”

You feel isolated from other relationships with friends and family. [✔]

While he is not actually isolating her, he wants it and is manipulating her- consciously or subconsciously- by showing vulnerability to fall for it. What are you so worried about, jerk? That her family may actually talk some sense into her? You want her hanging on your rope till you off yourself then fuck her and her kid?

Something about that fills her with excitement. He needed her. He needed her.

NOOOOOOOOO! BAD BUNNY! BAD BAD BUNNY! THIS SHOULD NOT FILL YOU WITH EXCITEMENT!

Ken’s gloved hand curls around one of her hands.

Why the fuck is he wearing gloves indoors? Was he roleplaying Kureo Mado? Is that the sort of kinky fuckery they are into now?

This might be a cage – but if it was like this,  then it might not be so bad.

/facepalm/

It had been a good week since she had left.

I had to read this a couple of times because I thought it was from Yomo and Nishiki’s point of view and was about to add them to the fuckboy list.

But in the end, it’s not a lecture as much as it is a hug from Yomo and a playful slap on the arm from Nishiki.

I am glad they went his route and didn’t give her hell for what happened. It is important for her to know she has a supportive place to go home to.

I’ll be there in half an hour, we can go to the place with the cakes that you like.

Bitch, she is traumatized by throwing up and you want to take her out in public to do an activity that will make her nauseous? WTF?!

Yoriko better be in that bakery.

Touka is deliriously happy.

Denial is not just a river in Egypt.

Neither of them notice a pair of watching eyes from outside of the bakery. A man woman in a black trenchcoat  an apron smiles, and then laughs.

…

Somewhere, Kosaka Yoriko is laughing.

Here, fixed that last paragraph for you.

Well, putting aside the emotional trauma this chapter put me through, this was a really well written chapter. I can’t remember the last time I felt so frustrated by a character in a fanfic or so invested in the story in general. I am angry with you in the best way possible because I don’t know if I can wait till next week for a new chapter, the clowns getting involved should make things fun not.

Looking forward to the next chapter but for now, I will just go get depressed about the pathetic state Touka is in.

[lodessa]

It’s been a while since I did this

Tagged by@carlynroth

List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or as little detail as you like then tag some friends to see what they’re working on: writing, art, gif sets, whatever.

Okay so I set some rules for myself in making this list in an attempt to maybe clear it out a bit to what I’m more likely to write any time soon: I did not allow myself to look at any of my previous lists OR my WIP documents/folders until after I’d made the list (only to add details/links after I’d finalized it).

Star Trek: Voyager - Janeway/Chakotay

Stumbling: Post Endgame Janeway and Chakotay struggle to get back what they once had (trust) even though they both want it.  Basically I really wanted to explore how messy emotions are and a realistic struggle to recover from what happened. I think it’s going to be like 8 chapters, but for all I know it will end up being 14 like Parameters and Voyager High; because, that’s apparently my natural length for drawn out chaptered fics.  Three chapters are currently posted. Chapter four is partly written.  Excerpt: 

“Here’s the thing: She still wants him.  It’s ironic, after all the years he was diligently waiting and she was able to stuff it down and put it aside some ninety something percent of the time Now, now she is so angry with him, so distrustful, but it’s like that pain has wrecked her self control. She can’t come back from the blunt honestly of her despair. When she’d been so secure in him it has been easy to set aside her desire.

Now. Now she feels raw, not just with the sting of his betrayal but also with her own longing.

Now he meets her for long afternoon walks between her meetings and his office hours and she can’t take comfort in his arm linked with her but she can’t ignore it either. His warmth beside her is a provocation, unsettling her.

He brings her a series of peace roses and part of her wants to feel comforted by the gesture but there’s something inside her that balks at any memory of how it used to be.” 

Just Once: Five times Janeway and Chakotay were only going to kiss once (and the time they finally gave that pretense up).  This is really a more drawn out version of “Why Janeway and Chakotay Can't Share the Couch: 5 Times They Slipped Up”   but it’s not like there can ever be enough of that type of fic. Currently I have posted 1 of 6 total chapters, but I do have all of it outlined.

The Greek Mythology AU Epic.  I only have a couple actual paragraphs of this written, but I have a very clear idea of the plot and style.  Basically it’s a homeric style epic, wherein Janeway is the hero and involves a plotline with her going down to the underworld to get Chakotay back.  Very different from my usual style, obviously.  Excerpt:

“You have heard, of course, about the great ship Voyager, and it’s captain: the wise but willful woman king known as Janeway, favored by Athena. The tale of how her ship was blown off course by a powerful storm and ended up in distant waters far from home, how she subdued the outlaw ship she’d been chasing on the other side of the world, won over it’s captain: the noble Chakotay, how together they kept raiders from causing Atlas to drop the world, and thereafter Chakotay and his followers served under her and he became her most trusted subject and against all odds they returned to Greece in seven years and seven days is widely known. 

Less famous, however, is the tale of Janeway’s descent into the Underworld and how she came to prevail upon Hades to undo what his wrathful brother, Poseidon, had done in spite and wounded pride.   Many heroes have gone down to plead with the king of the dead for lost loves, but few are those to emerge again to the sunlight.”

That One Where Chakotay Gets Pegged.  So I have a number of fic ideas involving this (Including a follow up to Happy Accident) but the longest standing one and one I really mean to write in the near future is one where Janeway happens to mention one of the ways she has gotten the upper hand in diplomacy situations with men who want to fuck her  involving a strap on and well... Chakotay can’t get the idea out of his head. 

Daxverse:  After three years of intending to do this AU with Jadzia on Voyager and not actually writing it and @talsi74656 having been in the same situation for a couple, we are seriously exploring joining forces and merging our two different versions into one in hopes of getting it written.  Because, the idea is too good to sit forever unpublished.

Year of Hell PWP: Chakotay offers Kathryn a different kind of birthday present.  Excerpt:

Kathryn felt herself blush deeply at his probably innocently intended question.  She was wound so tightly right now she might explode on impact at the slightest jostling.

Chakotay flushed as well as he realized from her expression what she wasn’t saying.

“Oh…” he pressed his lips together, “I see. No wonder you are having trouble sleeping.”

“Chakotay!” she replied with a scandalized gasp.

“Let me help?” his voice and his expression both were beseeching, “You know you’ll sleep better and that will make you way more productive.  You wouldn’t accept my birthday gift… at least let me do something for you.”

Cracktastic Anthropomorphic Voyager/Janeway/Chakotay Situation: Sentient Voyager takes human form and interacts with its Captain(s) in a variety of ways. Set over the course of the series and post series when Chakotay takes command.  Most likely ends with a threesome.

Post Endgame Angst Where Janeway is Hallucinating: Janeway cracks once the immediacy of all those years of pressure lets up and loses touch with reality.  Feeling abandoned and lost, she hallucinates a Chakotay who is cruel and kind in turns, and by the time the real Chakotay shows up she doesn’t believe he’s actually there.

Timeless Timeline Chakotay/Endgame Timeline Admiral Janeway Fixit AU: Somehow the Admiral goes sideways instead of back and ends up in the averted Timeless timeline. Both of them are so damaged by loss and time in these timelines and I’d love to see them interact. Ultimately, they join forces and go back to save their past/alternative selves from becoming the selves they are then and there.  This started out as a coauthored fic that got abandoned midway through, but I still really love the idea.  Excerpt:

"Well that depends, what year is it and how long have I been dead for." She said it teasingly but the question still felt heavy, "How do you think I died?"

"Are you sure you want me to tell you? I'm not even sure I can." He shook his head, running his hand over his face, suddenly overwhelmed with the memory of seeing Kathryn dead on Voyager's bridge.

"It's important, I think." she sighed, running her fingers through his hair, "Unless you'd rather I tell you."

He wasn't sure what was worse, watching the pain that crossed Kathryn's face when she mentioned his death, or thinking about how hard it would be to relive her death. He couldn't bring himself to cause her more pain than he had to, even if that meant bearing the brunt of it himself.

"It was the slipstream drive..." he said quietly, trying not to go back to that day, "Harry and I went ahead in the Delta Flyer, but we'd miscalculated..."

He could barely get the words out, as the lump formed at the back of his throat. She reached for him, her hand cupping his face.

"All these years, and you still..." He could see her calculating how long it must have been.

"Always." He kissed her softly.

Her hands lingered on his face, thumb stroking his cheek.

"It's an alternate timeline," she said at last, "we never attempted that slipstream flight... Seven," he couldn't help but notice something off in Kathryn's voice as she said the former drone's name, "Seven got a message warning us."

RPF

KM/RB Fic No One Wants That Involves RealTalk(TM) Racism.  Because I feel like this needs to be addressed in terms of KM’s exoticism when it comes to him and also that she only publicly dates white dudes. She looks like a jerk in this one.

Another One No One Asked For: Why Both KM and Braga Got Pissed At RB Really. As JR is added to the cast, RB is upset that KM chose Hagan and decides to get back at her by exploiting somewhere he knows she’s already feeling vulnerable.  He looks like a jerk in this one.

KM Has Zero Sympathy for the Problems RB Created For Himself. Because KM sass is life and seriously CHOICES dude.

KM/RB As a Taurus/Scorpio Dynamic Case Study. Because they are.

Veronica Mars

Balacing Act: Two parts are written. Part 3 of the series is still in progress.  Continued  post movie threesome action with Logan, Weevil, and Veronica. Excerpt:

“I have acquired bagels… and coffee.”

It takes a moment for Eli to remember where he is or how he got there, gradually regaining enough consciousness to register Veronica’s way too chipper voice and remember that it must be Logan’s fucking arm he can feel slung across his hip. Reluctantly, he opens his eyes and there she is, looming over them with a take out tray of coffee cups in one hand and a paper bag in the other, looking cheerful and relaxed, like this is something that happens every day instead of being unprecedented, like she is used to him fucking Echolls up the ass until they both come.

“Enjoying the view from above from once, V?” he teases, refusing to act like this is weird if she isn’t going to.

“Wait… you went all the way to-“ Logan sits up, looking perfectly mussed as he notes the logo on the coffee cups.

This is weird. This is definitely weird, even for them.

That Season 3 AU I Started Around the Time The Movie Came Out: So season 3 was a mess as a whole, but it also always bugged me that Veronica’s “I was wrong not to trust” moment is about Logan (who didn’t deserve her trust and yeah actually his explanation in the end was shitty) and not about her dad (who deserved better than her judgement and criticism) and Weevil (seriously did she really think he’d rip Lilly’s necklace off her).  It’s a lot bigger than that, but basically this AU starts from there and has Weevil be the one to find her in the parking garage instead of Logan and goes from there. I need to finish it because it’s important, even if it’s a dead fandom. Excerpt:

“Would now be an appropriate time for me to list the reasons why you shouldn’t even be wasting your time with that spoiled gringo asshole?”

Weevil knew that was never going to be a productive addition to any conversation with her.  She had some mad feelings about Logan Echolls, every bit as much as Lilly had.  He didn’t think about Lilly so much these days, but sitting in Veronica’s car talking about whether Logan was a bad boyfriend was bringing the memories back.

She must have noticed the parallel too; because she said, “Is that what you told Lilly?”

They had never talked about Lilly.  Whenever possible she stuck to cases, favors, and harmless flirtatious banter that he knew didn’t mean anything at all. They avoided talking about Logan, but this - this was taboo.  And Weevil doesn’t know what to feel about that.

And what the hell is Veronica thinking, anyway?  Maybe it was the lingering effects of the drugs.  What the docs call trauma?  He hasn’t got a freaking clue .  All he knows is that Veronica Mars had bought up the girl whose ghost seemed to have more life than most of the people walking around Neptune. And he doesn’t like to say no to Veronica Mars.

“Sometimes I think it was what she wanted me to do.” He answered, deciding to pursue this line of potential honesty, “It was probably just a way to stroke her ego.   It’s not like I don’t get that, but she sure did like to paint a picture to me about how unhappy she was with him…”

“You and me both.” Veronica replied, gaze fixed away from him. “What were you supposed to tell her?  That she could do so much better?”

Sometimes these days he almost forgot that Veronica had been Lilly’s best friend, that she told her everything that really mattered.  Of course, that meant that he didn’t really matter.  He had always known that, even when he maybe wanted to believe otherwise, but there is maybe a small part of him that wanted to hold on to the idea that maybe he did.  

“Is that what you would tell me? If I said yes… If I asked you to tell me why I shouldn’t be with Logan?” Veronica turned around sharply to look him in the eyes.

“Pretty sure it would be a better option than giving you the spiel I gave her, the one that goes something like ‘I’d never let you feel alone’ and ‘Just let me show you how much better it can be.’ You know, that kind of crap.”

It was his turn to stare out the windshield, away from her.  Normally he would make a joke out of it, wink and suggest that maybe she wanted that all along, for him to profess his undying love, but not now.  They were both too raw.

“Tell you what.  If I ever do decide I want you to talk me out of dating Logan, I’ll let you know which version of the speech I’m looking for.”

“Deal.”  He agreed.  He knew they would never have that conversation, or at least not that version of it. That was what Lilly wanted to hear - she got  off  on hearing how much he wanted her. But Veronica wasn’t Lilly. She liked having leverage of a different kind.  Getting the better of someone.  Oneupsmanship . Veronica wasn’t interested in the straight power of someone finding her desirable, even if she used it to her advantage if she felt it was needed.

A Song of Ice and Fire (really not Game of Thrones)

Jaime/Brienne Adventure Romance:  Because this ship deserves a long plotty romance novel and I wasn’t ready to write that kind of thing in 2008 when I stopped writing them but I am now.  Definitely book and not show universe.  Jaime and Brienne go looking for Arya across Essos.  Excerpt:

“Indeed father.  He does know me.  Do you not recognize Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer?”

Brienne waited for Jaime to respond to the barb, but he did not. Her father looked surprised, doubtless he had expected Brienne’s visitor to be of less consequence. She could see him going over Jaime’s features and attire, as if putting the pieces together.

“It is an honor Ser. We so rarely get such important visitors here on our humble island.”

“Doubtless, Ser Jaime is here for his reward.”

“Reward?” Lord Selwyn looked, if possible, more perplexed.

“For saving my life, father.  Surely you will satisfy him.”

“He… he saved your life?”  

“Yes, when I was in the bear pit at Harrenhal. Really father, you’d think you didn’t listen to a word I said about my travels.”

Her father was indeed no longer listening to her.  Doubtless he was busy concocting some heroic version of her rescue that would culminate in his at long last marrying off his daughter.  Brienne was sure that’s what he thought the outcome of this visit would be, though he must have known Jaime was part of the Kingsguard.

At last Jaime spoke, “You mistake me, my lady.  I came seeking no reward.”

“Surely Ser, you came for something.”

“I came to see you, Brienne, for there are things I wish to discuss with you.  That is all.”

“You might have sent a letter.”

“Perhaps, but it I did not.  Will you walk with me?  While I am here I was hoping to witness the splendor of the Sapphire Isle.”

Jon/Sansa Fake!Married Trope:  Also definitely book!verse.  Following Danaerys’ reconquest, both remaining Starks attempt to leave Westeros without attention.  They run into each other. Excerpt:

She was undeniably lovely, with creamy skin and blue eyes he hadn't seen the like of since he left Winterfell.  She stared at Ghost in surprise, but not in fear.  Indeed she seemed transfixed by the direwolf as she reached her hands out to him and Ghost nuzzled his head against her.  Jon was amazed; he did not think she had noticed his own approach, she seemed so distracted.  

“It can't be.” She murmured to the direwolf, “But there is no mistaking you.  How did you get so far?”

Jon was unsure of how to alert her to his presence without startling her, yet it seemed rude just to stand here.

“They are all gone now, aren't they? Lady, and Nymeria, and Summer, and Greywind, and even Shaggydog.  Is he gone too Ghost, is that why you've found me?”

The woman sounded close to tears, and stranger yet she'd known. She had known not only Ghost but all the rest of the direwolf pups.  Realization dawned on Jon and he recognized Sansa, although his half sister had grown from a pretty child to a beautiful woman since he'd last seen her.  He wanted to say something, but the words caught in his mouth as he watched her fling her arms around the direwolf with a sob.

Crossovers

Restoration: Dresden Files/Revolution NBC, coauthored with @jaqofspades.  Miles Matheson doesn’t remember he’s a wizard, not that it matters with all the magic gone after the blackout.  Dark twisty multishipping with every kind of delicious wrong.  We need to get back on writing this eventually. 

Tagging: @talsi74656, @jaqofspades, @joyful-voyager, @sophia-helix, and @starfleet-vs-maquis if you guys want.

ETA: Oh I forgot one my favorite current projects!

That Massive 24th Century Trek Series Crossover AU: Which is a follow up to The Smallest Twine, in which certain details of the Cardassian Treaty get leaked before it is signed and the Federation is very nearly plunged into civil war.  It continues to explore the J/C relationship from the first story in the AU but also features a lot of our favorites from TNG and DS9 as well as more of the VOY characters.

[unoutan]

New Bakudeku storyyyy! I’m was so hyped writing this and it got a life of its own now. lol This was made from me taking a break from my current stories for the BNHA fandom on A03. Enjoy! -Unoutan

Summary: Stressed out Bakugou Katsuki, single father and professional hero, learns how to deal with having Deku back in his everyday life so suddenly, while Midoriya Izuku, daycare teacher of Kokoroiya Daycare (We accept all families! Ages 5 and under!), learns how to deal with Kacchan all over again...along with his two kids!!

A Bakudeku kid-fic, fix-it fic romantic comedy with a crap ton of drama, smut and more drama.

Tags: Daycare Teacher!Midoriya, Daycare Teacher!Shinsou, Papa Bakugou Katsuki, Platonic Soulmates Shinsou & Midoriya & Hatsune, All Might is okay and not hurt, Fix-It of Sorts, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Bakugou Katsuki is Sexually Frustrated and Doesn't Know It, BAMF Midoriya Izuku, Quirkless Midoriya Izuku, Adorable Midoriya Izuku, Fluff and Smut, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Canon Universe, Power Bottom Deku, Porn With Plot, Slow Burn, Kid Fic

Mini Excerpt Chapter 1: 

It all started when Bakugou Katsuki said this one simple thing to himself aloud. “Goddamn it, I still need to find a daycare for my kid.”

All Might instantly turned towards Katsuki, putting a hand up to a random rude reporter asking him about unimportant rumors than about the current situation getting resolved, and appeared right next to Katsuki like a salesman ready with a pitch. “I know this area like the back of my hand! The best daycare is actually nearby UA High, so it’s convenient for us both! I know a few heroes that have their kids there actually, so it’s a trustworthy place for many, including myself. It’s called Kokoroiya Daycare and you should check it out, Bakugou my boy.”

Bakugou Katsuki, official pro hero for four years, soon to be five, has officially moved to the center city to be close to his work at UA High and all the main hero firms. He is also a single dad with two sons. His eldest son being age five and his youngest age four.

And single, Professional Hero dads with kids are busy as fuck compared to other heroes.

Katsuki managed to get his five year old in on time at one daycare that had an opening. The waitlists for daycare centers are killer. But for his four year old, it slipped Bakugou’s mind to find place for him too; tunnel vision on one kid and realizing too late that he needed another spot too. A lapse in intelligence, a moment of stupidity, a daze of overworked single hero dad problems are the reasons Bakugou Katsuki came up with for fucking that up.

To his extreme distaste, he would probably have to pull some stings for getting his four year old into a daycare now. He knows that he is wayyy past late on the daycare applications since it’s already halfway of July…and daycare applications were due October last year for the start in April of this year!

BUT SHIT HAPPENS. BAKUGOU KATSUKI IS A PRO HERO AND HAS BEEN BUSY OKAY…doing hero shit, making sure people don’t die and shit, so that’s why he’s late. And…some crap has been going on with his youngest too and said son can’t concentrate, therefore neither can Katsuki!

The explosive hero has too much on his plate both professionally and personally…

So, the fact that the number one hero All Might easily did all the leg work for him, saved him a few hours of sleep tonight just by simply suggesting a daycare he knows and trusts, Katsuki was thankful. Very thankful…and tired, very tired.

Kokoroiya Daycare, personally recommended by All Might it is then!

He didn’t want to admit that All Might helped him though, so Katsuki only grunted at the hero, “I’m not your boy anymore, All Might. I’m 25 already.”

“Oh Bakugou, you’ll always be my boy! Ever since you’ve been my student at UA, even if you’ve graduated, become a top hero alongside us pros and have become an old man saying get off my lawn to poor kids minding their own business, you’ll always be my boy.”

Bakugou’s eye twitched at the old man reference All Might said about him and covered his eyes with his gloved hand, letting out a big sigh filled with all the annoyance in the world.

And then some random fucking jerk tried to talk to him.

“Explodinator, do you have anything to add? Any details about the villains you and All Might apprehend-“

“No fucking comment.” Bakugou turned his back to them and walked away to sit on the street curb behind the police tape. All Might laughed at his actions and turned back to addressing the rowdy paparazzi like the number one hero he is.

The rescue specialist Backdraft is already putting out the flames and the Villains are shoved into armored vehicles, so Bakugou Katsuki wanted to just rip off his mask, strip, throw on his pajamas and sleep on the cement ground. He would if he could, but he doesn’t have his pajamas and unfortunately it’s only 4pm. And he’s not a stripper…no matter what hot cold dork said he did during the last time they went out eating and drinking with the floating round face.

He wants to collapse on his bed and pretend he doesn’t have to adult, but he still has to call this Kokoroiya Daycare before dinner tonight and do things like talk with people. Shit. Hell, Katsuki will just get a random, available hero secretary representative to do it for him.

And damn it, his youngest brat better not have burned down the babysitter’s house this time. He still doesn’t know how his youngest did that and it was something he expected the older to do, not the younger.

Life is full of surprises…like surprise explosions and fires. No one died.

The previous babysitter was a little shit, but Katsuki didn’t deserve to pay the damages and cover up, so that he won’t get sued. He has money…it’s not that he’s struggling, not that he’s swimming in it either, but the shushing cost still hurt his wallet.

On the bright side, the papers did not get wind of his kid exploding someone’s home.

His mother handled all the legal trouble like the badass lawyer she is and now, Katsuki owes his mother a dinner visit to see his new home. She demanded from him to make this a play-date get together for his kids with her, his father, and the eight-year-old child of Aunt Inko together with the new husband, which Katsuki has never met.

Katsuki has not met the two new Midoriya family additions, but that’s not what worries him most.

He doesn’t want to do this, but he has his hands tied with owing his mother from bailing him out of shit. It will probably be awkward too, very awkward since goddamn Deku will likely be there too, to be with his mother, half-baby brother and step-father.

That is what worries Bakugou Katsuki the most: Goddamn Deku.

[echoeternally]

Nexus of Lylat (Prologue 2)

Hi again! This is still the beginning of my Star Fox fanfic. It’s a little long, since I had a divided set-up for the beginning of the story.

Unlike the previous chapter, set in the past, this one details an omnious future, filled with characters that are more or less made up, with one exception. To tell the full truth, I wasn’t interested in adding a bunch of original characters in, but the story needed some more folks included. World building and such.

After this, the main fanfic starts, which is set to take place after Star Fox: Assault, the second installment from the GameCube.

It shouldn’t be too rough, just a little lengthy. These characters are only the focus for two chapters, including this one.

So, bear with the set-up, and enjoy my attempt at Star Fox!

[25 years after Aparoid Invasion; Future]

 A hooded figure stood away from the shattered window of the old building. His head jerked back a bit as something thundered in the distance. Quickly, the figure leapt back and covered himself as a missile burst through the window and exploded.

 Glancing up past his navy blue hood, he gasped at the crumbling ceiling. Without missing a beat, he blitzed for the unhinged door and bolted down the stairs. The charred hallways crashed behind him as he escaped through the side exit of the building, diving as it collapsed behind him.

 “This is Alpha Felidae, over.” A feminine voice radioed over. The cloaked figure pushed up from the ground, checking the night sky as he hurried to a shadowed alley. He tapped on his headset communicator, opening the channel. “We saw the explosion from here. Vulpes, do you copy?”

 “Vulpes here.” His voice was more hoarse than usual and he coughed to clear his throat. “Got out, just barely.”

 “Copy,” a more masculine voice came up. “Felidae Omega here, and I think we seriously need better code names.”

 “Oh, shut up,” came the first voice. “Vulpes, you need to get back to HQ. They’ve got sentries deployed and they’ll swarm you any minute now.”

 “So, run and gun.” Vulpes slipped out a black blaster and turn the safety off. “Should be fun.”

 “Fun?! Vulpes—”

 “Relax, Alpha. He’s got it handled.” The second voice chuckled over the communication link. “Give them hell, Vulpes.”

 “Will do. Give me a few; I’ll be back soon. Over and out.”

 He pulled his hand away from his left ear and lifted the blaster, glancing out of the alley. Though nothing appeared to be around, he crouched down and lifted an empty glass bottle. Aiming it, he flung it out into the street.

 Yellow lasers zipped through the sky, piercing and shattering the bottle. Vulpes crept further down the alley, ducking behind a dumpster and waiting.

 He peeked out and watched as a silver robot marched in front of the alley, turning and scanning it. The bulky sentry held more than seven inches over the cloaked figure, with a single red scanner for an eyepiece, and one arm that transformed into a cannon.

 Charging his blaster, Vulpes steadied his breathing. His free hand slipped over his belt and pulled out a yellow sphere. He clicked it and it lit up.

 “Threat detected,” announced the sentry. The hooded figure peeked out quickly and retreated as three more sentries entered the alleyway.

 Under his breath, Vulpes let out, “You have no idea.”

 Deftly, he lobbed the yellow sphere out toward the robots. They turned to face it as he sprung from behind the dumpster and fired a red beam from his blaster.

 As soon as it connected with the sphere, he dove back behind the dumpster, his cloak taking a few shots from the sentries.

 With a sharp bang, the yellow sphere exploded, and flames engulfed his adversaries. The alleyway lit up as Vulpes ducked down and covered his mouth, holding his breath for a moment.

 After waiting and watching the light from the alley fade, Vulpes stepped from behind the dumpster. Burnt parts of the robots were scattered around, with at least two arms and a leg still aflame.

 Vulpes smirked and sped from the alleyway, charging his blaster again. He glanced back and watched as three more silver sentries rushed out into the otherwise deserted streets.

 Spinning around, Vulpes let a charged blaster beam rip out and pierce through the first robot. A hole burst through its chest, but the sentry only fell back in line with its comrades, still pursuing their target.

 Still, Vulpes ran through the streets between the burnt and broken buildings, only giving the blue and gray blurs a passing glance as he raced from the city. He dropped another grenade from his belt, activating it as he rushed out.

 Slowing for just a moment, Vulpes turned and watched as the grenade went off, bursting under the three sentries. He smirked again, and then dashed off once more.

 The figure tore across the scorched fields, his cloak flapping as the wind brushed beneath him. A yellow laser fired out beside him, and then another ripped over his shoulder, grazing him slightly.

 With a yelp, Vulpes turned back and his eyes widened. Five more robots aimed their arm cannons, marching out of the city after him. A large black and green tank rolled out behind them.

 Abruptly, a missile whizzed out and crashed into the robots, blasting them along with the front of the tank. Looking skyward, Vulpes noticed a large, red and black fighter ship floating overhead. He sighed in relief and waved as it lowered. The cockpit opened and a helmet covered wolf waved to his hooded friend.

 “About time you showed up, Canis!” Vulpes laughed.

 “Aw, sorry, were you waiting on me?” The wolf teased and stuck his tongue out.

 He climbed aboard and sat behind the wolf, as Canis closed the top back down. They flew off, leaving the city far behind them.

 “Lucky you, having me save your butt yet again,” Canis ribbed. “Are we still keeping score? I think I’m up by two now.”

 “Please, you owe me your life,” mocked Vulpes. “And no, you’ve just caught up.”

 “What?!”

 “Remember the time where I had to grab you from the exploding factory?”

 “That doesn’t count! I was already out!”

 “Sure, right,” Vulpes ridiculed. “And the time where you almost drowned after dragging a sentry into the lake?”

 “Again, I had it handled!”

 “If that’s what you believe.”

 Canis sighed. “So, did you find the documents?”

 “Yep, already scanned and sent them to the twins.” Vulpes pushed back his hood a bit, wiping his forehead. “We can finish it up and have it running soon.”

 “That’s great! And then we…uh oh.”

 “What is it?”

 “Trouble.”

 Leaning forward, Vulpes gazed out the window past Canis as his mouth dropped open. A larger, silver fighter floated ahead of them, blocking the way to fly forward.

 “You can outrun it.”

 “I can try.”

 “Canis, we need to get back to base!”

 “…Yeah. Ok.”

 Hesitating, waiting to see the opposing craft make a move, Canis attempted to rocket his ship to the west instead. A cannon rose from the other ship, and it launched homing missiles against Canis’s ship.

 “Death seekers,” murmured Canis as he checked his radar. “They must have been saving them for us.”

 “No worries,” reassured Vulpes, “we’ve gotten past these before!”

 “That didn’t end well for the other guys though.”

 “Focus! We won’t end up like them!” Vulpes tugged his hood forward. “Just get to the ship.”

 Using the thrusters to boost the ship, Canis watched on the radar as the missiles continued to fly after them. He dropped a Smart Bomb back and flew forward, hoping the missiles would be engulfed in the ensuing explosion.

 “Did that work?”

 As the blast settled, Canis watched the radar kick on again, with the missiles still inbound. He grinded his teeth and shook his head.

 “Vulpes—”

 “Relax, we’ll be fine.” He pointed forward, at a valley in the distance. “We’re almost there, we just need to the vale.”

 “And the missiles?”

 “The twins can take them down once we’re close. They’re on stand by!”

 Unconvinced, Canis sped up again, closing in on a space between the hills. He spun the ship around, flipping it over. Touching the roof, Vulpes pushed himself back down into his seat.

 “What are you doing?!”

 “Preparing safety measures,” explained Canis. He punched a sequence into several buttons on his computers. “The eject sequence is prepped.”

 “Fine, but we won’t get there fast enough if you launch us out too early.”

 “Don’t worry about that.”

 Light blipped over the fighter’s radar, as the missiles closed in on the two of them. Vulpes tugged on his hood, nervously staring back out of the ship.

 “Hey,” Vulpes spoke up, “I know that a straight line is the fastest way to close in, but if you don’t add a trick maneuver in this flight pattern, we really we get burned.”

 “I already calculated that.”

 “Then what are you doing?!”

 Canis chuckled lightly to himself and shook his head. “You’re just too trusting of people, Vulpes.”

 His companion glanced forward, noticing too late that Canis had a finger over a pair of lit crimson buttons.

 “Canis, wait—”

 “Just fix this Vulpes. And hey,” he elbowed his ally’s arm, forcing it back as Vulpes attempted to stop him. “Trust your heart, but do whatever it takes.”

 “CAN—”

 Pressing the back eject button, the roof opened and the back seat of the fighter flew down from the sky. Vulpes gripped tightly as the seat flipped and deployed a parachute.

 He gazed up past it, helplessly watching as the fighter soared up into the sky. The black missiles chased after it, closing the distance easily. Watching the first one near the wings of Canis’s fighter, Vulpes turned back and looked away, as explosions burst above him.

 Not too long after, his seat soared down and landed in the valley. Hesitating as his mouth quivered, Vulpes unbuckled himself from the seat and slowly walked away, reaching the hills a short distance away.

 From behind a split tree, two cats in armor rushed out, blasters in hand. They hurried over and pulled Vulpes along, dragging him behind the tree. While they focused on the silver fighter that loomed in the distance, Vulpes only turned back to see the smoke from his teammate’s fallen fighter.

 A slight whir sounded as the three jumped into a hole in the ground, and one of the cats covering it with a manhole lid. They descended into a dark tunnel, traveling beneath ground for a ways in silence.

 Eventually, the trio reached a larger opening to a cavern, which housed a massive, partially destroyed white flagship. They passed a few rocks while water dripped from above, making their way to and inside of the flagship.

 They walked inside and entered the vessel’s monitor room, where a violet falcon sprung up from her seat. She whirled around and smiled as the three walked in, but waited in silence as the door closed behind them.

 “Vulpes? Where’s—”

 “Didn’t make it, Ava.”

 Her shoulders dropped and she heavily sighed, lifting a wing over her face. The two cats took off their helmets, revealing one black one and one white one, with similar facial features.

 “Look,” the white cat turned to Vulpes, resting his hand on the cloaked figure’s shoulder. His yellow eyes searched past the hood, trying to reach through his comrade. “Canis did—”

 “Not have to die for this!” Vulpes slammed his fist against the nearest wall. “He didn’t have to…”

 “Vul—”

 “Let him be, Omega,” the black cat responded and shook her head.

 “Do we seriously need to use codenames right now?” Omega shook his head as Alpha rolled her blue eyes. “Look, I get that they could be listening in at all times, but we can’t live like that.”

 “I agree that it’s annoying, but we have to,” reasoned Alpha. “Just for now.”

 “Ava,” Vulpes shook his head and strode over to the falcon, “how long until it’s ready?”

 “Just a few more days, and I should be all set.” She wiped her eyes and nodded. “The documents were worth the trip to the city, and I’ll be able to finish it now.”

 “Good.” Vulpes marched over to the main monitor, glaring at it. “We need to fix their mess.”

 “But Ma…Vulpes, we can’t—”

 “Canis shouldn’t have died for nothing,” Vulpes murmured. Silently, Ava nodded. “Come on. We all have work to do.”

 He marched back across the room, making his way out with Ava in tow. Alpha and Omega exchanged confused expressions, and then turned, staring at a damaged screen. It displayed a distorted side profile of a running red fox, with a giant wing and a flowing tail. They shrugged to one another and started typing at the smaller computers in the room.

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