#fic: tcat

[teencopandthesourwolf]

If he were to be true to himself, which he generally isn't when it comes to this shit, Derek knew he was fucked the very first time he met Stiles Stilinski—no, actually, that's not entirely accurate. It was before that. He was fucked the second he smelled the kid's unique scent hitching a ride on the damp breeze that cut through Beacon Hills preserve on that fateful day, just over two years ago, when Derek stood on his family's land and tapped a claw against the plastic casing of the inhaler he'd found. The inhaler he'd sniffed out from the undergrowth in the middle of the night. The inhaler sitting inside the pocket of his dead Dad's leather jacket that he'd recovered from the ruins of his childhood home. The inhaler he'd returned the day after he played pretend with himself that it had been him who had bitten Scott McCall.

Derek has been playing pretend ever since.

But how is he supposed to pretend now, with the rogue piece of Stiles's clothing screwed up in his fist and him finally home alone in his own apartment? Worse (or better) is the fact that it's the kid's favourite beloved hoodie, the one he wears all the goddamn time which Derek can tell hasn't seen the inside of a washing machine in a while because of the way it reeks of nothing but pure, unadulterated Stiles.

Stiles's red, red hoodie.

Derek's eyes flash blue to remind him of who he is, at the same time as his fangs drop and his short nails extend into yellowed claws. Absently, he thinks of Little Red and The Big Bad Wolf when his form shifts, his resolve shattering like mirror glass as he accepts his seven years of bad luck with grace the moment he shoves his face into the fabric, now releasing that throaty groan that turns to a low growl then into a sex-hungry, shuddering snarl.

He inhales.

Deep; deeply; deeper.

And Derek is lost to Stiles, forever.

.

(from my current sterek WIP fic—let me know in the comments if you'd like to be tagged when it's up!)

#can't sleep? write #sterek #sterek wip #sterek fic #POV derek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #teen wolf wip #cassidy wips #ooh er missus #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #queer fic #m/m #should be finished with this and be posting in the next few days xp #tcats writes #teencopandthesourwolf

[angelasscribbles]

The Crown and the Shield Chapter 7: All Fall Down

Series: The Crown and the Shield

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Constantine x Jackson

Word Count: 740

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: Gun violence, blood, death

My other stuff: Master List.

The king of Cordonia approached the podium to thunderous applause. The negotiations had been successful. He was one press conference away from the end of this trip, and the beginning of a new life.

He was nervous, but excited, to confess his love for the head of his King’s Guard to his wife. Jack was right, Eleanor was nothing like Helena. She hadn’t married him for the crown but for their shared love of Leo. She was kind and loving and there was no way she would abandon her child the way his first wife had abandoned hers.

He would tell her about himself and Jackson and she would understand, like Bianca had. He could be more freely himself, Jack could be a bigger part of his life. Everything was going to work out. He just had to get through his part of the press conference.

The peace accords had gone far better than expected and he was confident about the future. He shot a discreet glance at Jackson as he took his place at the podium and cleared his throat.

His parents and his wife were seated on the stage behind him, along with the heads of state of all the attendee nations. Rivala, Auvernall, Monterisso, and Vallenheim. All of them hereditary monarchies. All of them targets of the anti-monarchy terrorist group The Liberation Core.

“I’d like to start by thanking the Spanish government for hosting this summit,” Constantine turned his head to nod politely at the king of Spain. He smiled broadly as he opened his mouth to compliment the culture, the cuisine, and the hospitality they had been shown.

The words never made it to his lips.

Gunshots shattered the bright June morning. Screams erupted from the audience, from the stage, and from the security teams as people scattered and dove for cover.

The crowd that had gathered for the historic announcement descended into complete chaos as panicked people trampled each other in an effort to escape.

The government officials and their families that had been seated on the stage seconds before were being drug from the area by their security teams or already lying on the stage floor, bleeding.

Security team members stumbled and slid through the wetness that now covered the floor as multiple people lay dead or dying.

Seconds stretched out like an eternity as Constantine turned his head wildly trying to find the source of the gunfire. Before he could react, a body hit his full force, tackling him to the ground.

There was a loud ringing in his ears, the gunshots and the screaming sounded dim and far away as darkness clouded the edges of his vision. He blinked rapidly trying to clear his senses as every survival instinct he possessed screamed at him to stay conscious.

He turned his head to the left and felt bile rise in his throat. The king of Auvernall lay mere feet away from him, unseeing eyes fixed and empty, his queen next to him gasping for air as her lifeblood ran out of a gaping hole in her chest.

His eyes swept the stage in horror searching for his own parents. The ground was covered in blood. Bodies lay everywhere. He spotted Eleanor being pulled from the stage by the head of her security detail, hands clutching at her stomach as blood soaked the fabric of her dress.

“No!” The scream tore from his throat as he began to struggle to get free. He had to get to her, to all of them. Why couldn’t he move?

His attention shifted to the body that lay motionless on top of him. Time suddenly sped up again as he gazed up into the face of the man who had shoved him out of the line of fire. The man who wasn’t moving. The man who was bleeding out on top of him.

Hot, sticky blood covered them both, but Constantine wasn’t bleeding.  

“Jack! Jack!” Terror clawed at his insides, panic washing over him as tears and snot smeared his face, “Wake up! Wake up!”

Then he was being pulled off the stage by another member of the King’s Guard as he fought with every ounce of strength he possessed to get back to the man he loved.

Three more guards joined the first and he lost the battle. He was pulled away from the danger as his lover lay in a puddle of blood, limp and unmoving.

#trr au #trr fanfic #trr fandom #trr au fanfic #choices fic writers creations #tcats #the crown and the shield #angelasscribbles #the royal romance #trr #the royal romance fanfic #cfwc fics of the week #Constantine Rys #Jackson Walker #Connie x Jack #choices stories you play #choices

[lovebugism]

I check your acc every day to see if there's new The Customer's Always Right 👀🤭 (this isn't to pressure you, just love the series and love you!!)

ahh omg i'm so sorry anon! i know the feeling, it can be kinda insufferable sometimes! i haven't been updating super regularly because 1.) writer's block is a bitch and 2.) i don't think people will care too much abt the series to want regular updates

but everyone's been showing the series a lot of love lately and i plan on turning all my attention to tcat when i'm done with the wip i'm working on right now!

there should be a part five out by next week, since this week i'm gonna post my steve harrington fic bc i did a poll and people wanted that first <3

thanks for checking in anon! ily!

tldr; sorry for taking so long to update tcat, part 5 is coming next week, stay tuned for my steve harrington / eddie's bff!reader in the meantime!

#bug answers

[suhmayzooka-creates]

To Clear Away Today UPDATE!!!!

Chapter Two: The Foundation for the Refuge and Education of the Extraordinary

In which Rei Ryugazaki’s post-high school plans are thwarted by the arrival of a new superpower.

Work Summary: 

Stifling a groan, he wondered what would kill him first: the global uprising that was aiming to raze the Foundation to the ground, or the midterms he had later that afternoon.

If war didn’t do him in, then “Topics in Diplomatic Relations III” surely would.

The Foundation for the Refuge and Education of the Extraordinary seeks to train young people who are gifted with supernatural abilities and help them acclimate to the world as soldiers, politicians, medics, and academics.

They can only hope there will be a world left for them after graduation.

read from beginning 

read update

#fic: tcat #i gave up on the artbreeder portraits they're too horrifying #free! #reigisa

[skyshoujo]

This is all of the art I’ve done for TCATS so far;;; idk why my art suddenly takes a trip to the shitter the moment I start drawing from memory but,,, aha,,, I’ll have to try again soon lol

#tcats #the cat and the strawberry #my art #my fic #grimmichi #bleach #grimmjow #ichigo kurosaki #grimmjow jaegerjaquez

[caffernnn]

Evil Makoto anon here. Here’s the fic I was referring to:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5226761 .

Also I’ve read that fic where Makoto is an undercover agent. I loved it! The way their relationship developed was so good that it made the ending even more satisfying IMO. It’s also the closest I’ll probably get to a makoharu spy au sadly. 😩

Ahh thank youuuu!! Also I found the spy fic and saw a few others when trying to find this one again but didn’t look too much into them 😅 buuut I CAN recommend a very cool in-progress superhero/superpowers au written by @suhmayzooka that has an amazing universe and character exploration 👀👀

#thank you evil makoto anon #almost forgot about the spy fic tbh #tcat seems to be in a similar ballpark to what we’re talking about #but I also have a tcat agenda and want more people to get invested in the story #oops #fic recs #tcat supremacy

[brokskar]

omg i just wanted to say I LOVE THE CALM AFTER THE STORM SO MUCH EVERYTHING norway wearing the hockey shirt and sweatpants I THINK ABOUT THAT

yooo😭😭 this was the nicest thing to wake up to, thank you so much !! it’s the first chaptered fic i’ve ever written (to completion) so i know i’m gonna look back on it one day and cringe, but i really did enjoy writing it and i’m glad some other people liked it too!!

#fun fact tcats was originally a prucan fic that i thought of years ago #but since i’ve moved into nordictalia (and hockey canada has been done before) i thought i’d change it up #it was my excuse to write norway in a way that i feel is very different that usual #aph norway #hws norway

[romanadvoratrelundar]

it's an open secret that i do not like batcat, but what you may not know is that bmww is lowkey my shit

#bmww is wonderbat #i prefer the acronym b/c 99% of the jlu fic i read is on ff.net and was posted in 2009 #the reasons i hate b*tcat are not really logical i just think it's boring #the reason i like bmww is jlu #flashtxt

[b-rainlet]

Fake fic title meme, both for any fandom: "where is there left for poor sinners to go?" or "the bend is worse than the break"? (Also sorry if this sends more than once, tumblr hates me right now.)

Where is there left for poor sinners to go?

I know I am supposed to write a fake summary but I don't think it would make much sense so I'm just telling you what my immediate idea for a fic was :D

Probably something for Jeremiah/Selina since Miah has a whole church and a cult that worshipps him like a god so why not take that opportunity lmao.

Although the lyrics do give me kinda angsty feels so it'd fit perfectly for a Post-S5 but Pre-10 year time skip fic where Jeremiah and Selina meet up in Jeremiah's church (that's now abandoned because Gotham is slowly going back to normal but all the remnants of the brief cult stint are still there, like....the coloured windows with Miah's face and the altar and the candles) and it's from Selina's PoV and she can't explain to herself why she keeps coming back every week to fight with Jeremiah (because that's what it is at first, the two of them spitting poison at each other at every opportunity) but it slowly turns into them kinda....actually talking to each other and there's something there that Selina vehemently tries to deny.

Also, if we have a religious title and the church as a meet up point, why not put more focus on Selina and her thoughts about whether she's a good person or not and how maybe Bruce left her - just like everybody else - because she's inherently bad.

She hurt Jeremiah and she enjoyed it, maybe she is plain evil. Maybe she doesn’t deserve 'redemption' (in this case, Bruce forgiving her for killing Jeremiah since that's one of the biggest fighting points for B*tcat).

And we can go even bigger, by adding one of those baptismal fonts??? To the church and having Miah baptise her as a way to 'absolve' her of any 'sins'.

The fic would get a big fat Blasphemy Tag of course aksndndn

Also while I would play with religious images because of the setting, neither of them would actually talk about or believe in God, the whole baptism thing would be more about Jeremiah showing Selina he forgives her for killing him, giving her the absolution she needs - by somebody who hurt her way worse and probably still enjoys the thought of hurting her and who is just as rotten as she is but none of that matters in that moment, that one utterly surreal moment, where she's perching on the edge of the font and he's holding her upper body tightly before dipping her back, murmuring things she can't hear and doesn't care about while she cries and thinks about Bruce. Ivy. Bridgit. Her Mother.

(The inherent intimacy of being shown the slightest crumb of compassion/affection when you're touch-starved).

The bend is worse than the break

This makes me think something character centric and inexplicably I am thinking Bridgit?? But I don't know what I would write.

The bend and the break could be about her relationship to her family? Like, 'bending' to her brother's will and then finally breaking away from then by deciding to kill them.

Which in this case is the better option since she is finally free.

Or something about her friendship with Selina. How it became distorted when she started being Firefly and wanted to help all those people and then later one changed again when she came back from the dead and then completely broke off when she was a full on villain and in the legion.

(I had thoughts about Bridgit visiting Selina in the hospital when she fell out the window in S3, so maybe I could incorporate that?)

But honestly that one doesn't give me as much as the first lyrics.

#Idk if the Jerelina one made sense #I was mostly trying to translate the vibes the lyrics gave me aksndj #Maybe I'll write it #Jerelina #Also the hospital thing is actually an idea for an Ivy/Bridget fic #Firewitch #Thx for always sending me asks even tho you're not in the Fandom and therefore don't even understand my rambles aksnsn

[suhmayzooka]

4 9 11 😇😘

oooh JUICY!!!

4. What’s one scene that pisses you off?

this is hard... hm..... my gut instinct is to say "anything with nao and makoto" but if i'm being honest, maybe every time rin was really angsty in s1 hahahah like when he yells at nitori and all that. i love my angsty angry shark bby but i'm glad he got better ^^

OR (controversial! bc he is one of my favorites) not a scene but, while i love his chaotic disaster self, in retrospect watching natsuya just fuck around getting drunk and winning money is cringeworthyyyyy. i don't blame ikuya for turning out like he did. natsuya, ily, but man he's something else. so i exaggerate the danger of his irresponsibility in tcat

it's interesting bc i love natsuya and nao (both together and as their own characters) but they are... put simply they are very far from being the best "team parents" lol

9. What’s your favorite AU that someone else has come up with?

this is hard hmm it's been a while since i've read AUs... catch a falling star was one of the first fics i read and it's stuck with me through the years, so i'll say that!

11. Which episode/movie have you rewatched the most?

I DON'T KNOW!?? probably the fireworks ep tbh

#ahobbitinhogwarts #asked

[allurascastle]

After months of not touching Talis' fic, I finally break 9k...on chapter one

#any fic really #vaguely have a tcats one started

[teencopandthesourwolf]

“Why did you ask me that?”

“Huh? What's that, big guy?” Stiles mumbles, answering the query with one of his own without looking away from Derek's laptop screen. The laptop Derek kind of bought for Stiles for when Stiles is at the loft.

Whatever. 

There's a ballpoint pen shoved in the kid's mouth—God, that mouth—and another slid behind an ear, the latter ready and waiting for Stiles to click to death in the In Between Typing Times.

The others dispersed a couple of minutes ago. Apart from Derek and Stiles, only Lydia and Deaton now remain at the loft and they're deep in conversation about the preliminary theory of who or what is killing the humans of Beacon Hills this week and are standing at the opposite side of the open-plan space, making more coffee. Scott and Malia left to rally the other ʼwolves (not answering their phones as they're at a cinema screening) plus find and talk to Argent to arrange a pack meeting proper about the situation, so they can all work on devising a plan. Granted, there is Peter to consider—who's probably still lurking somewhere, what with lurking being one of his favourite pastimes—who can obviously hear any and all conversations that are, or could be, happening inside of the building. Sadly though, Derek has never been able to hide much of anything from his uncle.

So. 

He thinks about elaborating on the question he asked Stiles, but can't.

He tries not to stare at Stiles, and fails.

Stiles is squinting at the screen with intent and looking like he has forgotten that Derek said anything at all. Or that Derek is still hovering close by. Or that Derek, you know, exists.

Derek is just standing there, all difficult and awkward in his own fucking home and his own fucking body, looming over Stiles like a creeper as Stiles taps away furiously at the keyboard and violently zig-zags a fingertip across the mousepad like an actual lunatic.

Derek almost laughs at that.

The Boy Who Runs With Wolves.

“Why wouldn't I?” Stiles now asks, still mumbling around the chewed ballpoint Derek is trying not to be jealous of. 

“I—what?” Derek's caught off guard; always and only by Stiles. 

Stiles doesn't skip a beat, unlike Derek's heart. “Why wouldn't I ask?” he adds.

Oh, right.

“I, uh, I don't... ” Derek trails off pathetically, swallowing any confidence he had previously mustered and looking away from Stiles, even though those big, brown devastating eyes aren't actually looking at Derek because they are, of course, still zoomed-in on whichever web page is currently yielding the most information.

Dusk is quickly closing in and all around them and the light filtering through the loft's huge window has begun to dim somewhat, so that the glow of the computer screen is now filling Stiles' eyes with bright, dancing sparks and arrhythmic shapes as they flicker like lightning from one tab to another, then another, then another. And as mesmerising as it is to watch—Stiles looks as though he is brimming with magic—the sight becomes too much for Derek, and looking away feels like his only option.

It doesn't last.

Stiles' long, large-knuckled fingers still their rapid movement just as Derek's eyes find their way back.

Derek watches the kid some more, like a lifeline.

An anchor.

Then, Stiles is taking the pen from those perfect lips as sneaker-toes slowly spin the swivel chair around, so that Stiles is now facing Derek where he stands with arms crossed reactively over his chest.

His heart.

“I asked because I wanted to know if you were okay, man," Stiles divulges, as if that's nothing at all. As if it's something Derek hears often. He tilts his head to catch Derek's eye, which works, of course, because it always works, no matter the nature of the moment they're caught up in. "Like, I was concerned, y`know?” 

Derek feels guilty just for looking. And not only because he wants to touch but because he wants to let Stiles care.

“I care, dude,” Stiles says on cue and Derek tries to self-implode while Stiles waits, probably for Derek to look at him and say don't call me dude and probably hoping not to have his head bitten off or his throat ripped out. 

Derek does look again, just not for long. Barely a glance. He can't afford himself too much Stiles, not when Stiles is looking directly back at him. It's safer that way—self-preservation and all.

“You do know that, right?” Stiles tries again. “That I care.” 

Derek wants to ask Stiles if they can talk, if Derek can tell Stiles things. Derek wants to ask Stiles if he'll stay, and if he'll let Derek spill his secrets, let him tell Stiles everything, like Derek never does with anyone these days, and if Stiles will hold Derek's hand when Derek cries about it, like Derek doesn’t allow himself to anymore. Derek wants to ask Stiles if Derek can touch him and hold him and if Stiles would hold him back, if Stiles would ever want that, if Stiles could ever be his.

“Don't call me dude,” is what he actually says because he can't not. But then he steals himself, head staticky and heart thumping as he dares himself to add (after what is undeniably too-long a pause), “And yeah. Maybe I do.” 

Then they look at each other. They just—look.

They look and look and look.

And they each keep looking at the other for a very long time. Definitely too long for two people supposedly not much more than acquaintances. Allies, maybe. Comrades at tenuous best.

Then they look for longer. Look for more. Look until it starts to feel as if they are the only two people in the room, in the building, in the world.

Whatever happened to self-preservation?

Something is starting to happen, and Derek is pretty sure it's not just happening to him, and he finds he is equally stunned as he is thrilled as he is completely fucking terrified about that. 

Eventually, Stiles says, “Derek, we're friends.” Then he's licking his lips and looking Derek up and down, shameless, adding—with a nonchalant shrug of one shoulder—“Till we're not.”

The latter part is spoken like a ominous secret, but one without the slightest hint of malice, because that's not how he means it. It's more promise than threat, if Derek is remembering correctly what genuine affirmations sound like (it's been a while).

The sparks from Stiles' eyes are then flashing blue in Derek's and Derek could swear he hears every one of his neurons firing inside of himself, all at once, as each of his mutated cells flare into overdrive, nail beds and gums tingling, the short hairs on the back of his neck and arms and hands standing up on end.

He feels utterly alive.

It's honestly a struggle not to keen and whine like a pup, and Derek has truly never been more happy of the fact that Stiles is unable to scent chemo-signals because, oh, yeah, Derek would be so fucked right now.

He has a reply for Stiles but it's caught in his throat, the sentence forming then solidifying, fast as a quick-drying glue.

Derek is just—standing there. Statuesque. Alternating between trying to swallow his words down and attempting to speak them, like a first class dipshit. Just looking and looking and looking at Stiles.

In an entirely mortifying turn of events, it is actually the sound of Peter's low, mocking chuckle from some tucked-away shadowy place in the loft that is the thing that forces Derek unstuck, and it takes all Derek has to not roll his eyes to the back of his skull and growl out I'm going to kill you again now, Uncle. 

He takes a breath, un-clenches his fists and tries for a smile—or at least a hint of one. He doesn't want to freak the kid out.

Derek then manages to repeat Stiles's words back at him, no more than a whisper.

“Till we're not.”

Stiles is just looking and looking and looking at Derek, before he's asking, “Can I stay for the evening? You can talk to me while I research. I always work better with noise. It'll be soothing,” like he's ordering pizza instead of answering all of Derek's prayers.

Derek notes how the kid's usually erratic eye-contact is weirdly as unwavering as his usually erratic heartbeat, which is now weirdly steady as a metronome.

That's a lot of weird. 

Derek fights the urge to bite into his lip with his fangs. He wants to draw blood, and to taste it.

He embarrassingly feels his eye twitch and his breath hitch as he dares himself to do this. 

He sputters, “What do you want me to talk about?”

Stiles slowly swivels back towards the light of the laptop—ethereal milky skin and dark moles once again luminous in its white-blue glow—at the very same time as the evening's first moonshine peeks through clouds and seeps in through the loft's huge skylight.

Derek is memorised. 

Stiles starts annoyingly clicking away at the Clicking Pen, while shoving the other back between those beautiful lips of his, now mumbling his words around the thing once more and speaking them as if they are the most obvious thing in the universe.

“Everything, Der.”

.

for @poebin for asking <3 (unedited, soz)

#with love <3 #sterek #sterek ficlet #sterek fic #derek hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #teen wolf fic #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #eternal sterek #sterek is eternal #everything der #for poe #peter hale #tcats writes #teencopandthesourwolf

[angelasscribbles]

The Crown and the Shield Chapter 8: Healing

Series: The Crown and the Shield

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Constantine x Jackson

Word Count: 922

Rating: PG

Warnings for this chapter: none

Special thanks to @aussiegurl1234 for her input.

A/N: So, we finally come to the final chapter of this “one-shot” lol. I hope it meets expectations.

My other stuff: Master List.

“Today is the one-year anniversary of the Madrid Peace Summit Massacre,” the news anchor addressed the camera.

“It was a dark day for all our countries,” His co-host replied nodding her head sympathetically, “Isabella Hasapis was forced to take the Auverness throne when both her parents were killed, making her the youngest monarch in their history, ascending the throne at only sixteen. In Monterisso, the late queen’s sister was appointed as regent until crown princess Amalas is old enough to rule.”

Constantine turned the volume of the TV up as his mind ran back in time to the worst day of his life.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” the white-coated doctor stood with his hands in his pockets as he delivered the news, “We did everything we could. Heroic measures were employed but the injuries from the gunshot wounds were too grievous, and we were unable to save him.”

Constantine’s body shook with sobs. He let himself be led to a chair. He sank into it and dropped his head into his hands. He gathered his emotions as best he could and lifted his head, “And her?”

“I’m sorry, sir, again, the extent of the injuries-“

“So I’ve lost them both?”

“I’m very sorry for your loss. Would you like to see your wife now?”

“Connie, why are you watching this?” Eleanor took the remote from his hand and clicked the TV off just as the footage of his remarks from the south lawn of the palace earlier in the day began to play.

He turned to her with tears in his eyes, “It was the day I lost both my parents. The day I almost lost you. I don’t know how Leo and Liam would have-“

“Hey, we don’t have to worry about that. I’m here. I made it and so did you.”

“Thanks to Jack.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “Thanks to Jack. Speaking of him…don’t you have somewhere to be?”

He glanced at the clock on the wall and jumped to his feet, “Shit! Yes! I have to go!”

“It’s fine, go!” She shooed him out of their private living room, one hand at the small of her back and the other resting on her burgeoning stomach as she felt the baby kick. “Settle down, Lena. You have a month left in there.”

She missed her in-laws, but she was grateful that both she and her husband had been spared. The bullet had hit her in the side. There had been a lot of blood, but no major organs had been damaged.

She would have joined the king, but she was on partial bedrest for the duration of the pregnancy. She had told Constantine to give her love to the Walker family. She would be forever grateful for the sacrifices made that day.

Constantine stepped out of the limo and approached the group gathered around the gravesite. He made his way to Bianca and swept her into a hug before doing the same with Drake and Savannah in turn.

He stepped forward and touched the cold marble of the marker, his fingers tracing the etching. His throat constricted as he croaked out, “He died a hero.”

“That he did. He stepped right in front of that bullet.”

Constantine turned toward the voice with a solemn expression, “So did you.”

“Damned straight I did! And I’d do it again!”

The king pulled the other man into a tight embrace as he fought back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him, “Don’t joke about that, Jack, I almost lost you that day!”

It had been touch and go for two weeks. Constantine had never left his side.

“I’m not joking,” Jackson hugged him back.

Constantine had tried to get him to transfer to a less dangerous position, but Jackson had refused. There was no one else he trusted to safeguard the man he loved.

“Eleanor sends her love to all of you,” Constantine pushed out of Jackson’s arms and turned back to the monument, “We know how much Bastien meant to you.”

“He was like family,” Bianca agreed.

“He didn’t hesitate to take that bullet for her,” Jackson removed a flask of whiskey from his jacket pocket and held it up to the monument in salute, “Here’s to the best junior officer I ever had the privilege of training.”

“To Bastien!” the little group chorused.

When the gathering was over, Constantine and Jackson walked back to the limo together, hand in hand.

The perpetrators of the attack had all been brought to justice and The Liberation Core dismantled. There was some amount of closure in that.

Eleanor had taken the news of his relationship with Jackson in stride.

“I suspected, Connie. But it doesn’t change anything for me. I love you, and I love our boys.”

The only thing she had asked him for was another child. A chance for a girl and he’d given it to her.

In return, she’d given him complete acceptance of his relationship with Jackson.

He was as happy as he could be while still grieving his parents. He would always miss them, but he had a baby on the way, a queen who understood him, and the love of his life by his side.

Next year for his birthday, Jackson was getting that white water rafting trip. Constantine had already booked it. Just the two of them…give or take a few dozen guardsmen.

He glanced at the man next to him with happiness in his heart. He was healing, Cordonia was healing, and the future looked bright.  

~fin

#trr au #trr fanfic #trr fandom #trr au fanfic #choices fic writers creations #tcats #the crown and the shield #angelasscribbles #the royal romance #trr #the royal romance fanfic #cfwc fics of the week #Constantine Rys #Jackson Walker #Connie x Jack #choices stories you play #choices

[lovebugism]

for reference:

the steve fic is already about 10k words and i’m barely halfway done. basically everyone’s obsessed with eddie’s best friend (who is basically just eddie but in a different font). steve meets you and immediately swoons. you used to know him in high school and thinks he’s only into “pretty girls” like nancy so you try and change yourself for him. steve promises he likes you the way you are and sickly sweet smut ensues.

the eddie fic is part 5 to the customer is always right. without giving too much away, here is a very short summary: eddie makes a confession, jim hopper goes into papa bear mode, reader has a confrontation with billy hargrove (the first of many) and we see a peek into her troubled history. smut isn’t in the outline right now but it’ll be very angsty and very fluffy.

happy voting!

#im slowly working on both #but if i don’t devote my time to one of them neither will get done lol #and i wanna know which you guys would like more <3 #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #rolly polly

[suhmayzooka-creates]

and a bit of tcat—this is from chapter five bc i cannot write in chronological order without losing motivation

#fic: tcat

[skyshoujo]

#FINALLY! A CRISP AND COMPLETED WORK FOR TCARS #TCATS #the cat and the strawberry #grimmichi #grimmichi day #grimmjow #ichigo kurosaki #my art #my fic #bleach #bleach anime