#I have never wanted a pairing to be canon so badly that it would piss off antis 😒

[bluerosety-blog]

Any guesses how the Viz translators will word this lol! 🤣🤭

He looks scary yet so cool! But I want our cute/nerdy Izuku. 🥺 I miss his smile. 😔💔

[lissa612]

It’s sorta crazy how a stupid TV show has been able to trigger my anxiety so bad, but it makes sense when I consider all I had been using my hyper fixation on it to distract myself from. Alas, my anxiety has brought back my insomnia which means I wake up sometime between 1am and 2:30am every morning and just MIGHT start feeling ready to fall asleep against around 5…When my alarm goes off to get ready for work.

But it leaves me a lot of time for random pondering. And this morning got me thinking of one thing that either pisses me off or gives me hope (I guess I’ll know eventually…)

They didn’t need a character like Tommy for Buck’s bi (? Maybe - That actually hasn’t truly been confirmed in canon 🙄) awakening.

This is going to sound a lot like some of the anti-Tommy talking points, but please stay with me.

It really COULD have been any good looking, cool guy who did it. Imagine Johnny, a 40yo adrenaline junkie sport type that Buck and Eddie meet during a big emergency the way they met Ali. Now unlike Ali, Johnny keeps it together during the emergency and like Ali helps them save himself and others. Could even make him a military man. Now they could leave this emergency all having one another’s numbers and something along the lines of 7x04 still could have happened.

Buck calls Johnny to see his fun exciting job/hobby, but Johnny is pulled away when Eddie shows up for them to go do something they’d already planned. Buck isn’t complaining to Maddie about Eddie spending all this time with the new guy, but it’s not the cool pilot she already knows about but the cool free climber or whatever they met on a call. The same conclusions are still met with the conversation. Maybe the basketball game isn’t strictly first responders…Chim doesn’t have quite the same idea what’s going on since he really doesn’t know this guy, but he gets that Buck only asked him to the game because Eddie was bringing his new friend. Things still go badly for Eddie’s ankle and Johnny comes to the loft to apologize. There’s no talk about the 118 family, of course, but perhaps some other vulnerability about friendships and a kiss. There’s a date that still goes to hell. There’s coming out to Maddie and Eddie. There’s the coffee meet up. They could still have Buck go balls to the wall and invite him to the wedding despite him only really know Buck and Eddie. Johnny wouldn’t go to the bachelor party and maybe he comes to the hospital, maybe he doesn’t.

Their relationship does what Buck’s relationships do when there isn’t much connecting the person to his teammates or the plots of the show. Bobby can only say that Buck seems happy and settled…He can’t pass judgment on a person he doesn’t know. And they go through the dramas of the 118 together until something triggers a desire for a big move forward for Buck…And the same sort of break up happens.

It’s sad. It’s probably still a bit offensive. But there was never any loss to what could have been brought to the show overall by the departure of Buck’s latest partner, even if he was new in some ways.

But that’s not what happened.

They decided to bring in an established character that could be molded into what they wanted. A firefighter. Better yet, a firefighter PILOT on a show about firefighting that could use some fresh emergency plot ideas. A character with history in the house that holds Buck’s family. With Chim and with Hen and even with Bobby if it’s not nearly as much since Bobby wasn’t his open hearted self back when Tommy was there. And Tommy wasn’t either.

So you have this character who is compatible with the job. He can make for interesting storylines outside of relationship ones. There isn’t going to be a lame break up because the job is dangerous. There isn’t going to be a betrayal based on their mutual prioritizing of work since they would both understand how the work needs priority. You have things you can explore putting the character in pairings with practically every other main and have it make sense.

All that potential by choosing to go with this character that fits so well to just NOT do any of it.

That’s the real loss I am feeling as a fan of the show from the beginning.

And yeah, I shipped BuckTommy and I had hopes for things I wanted to see between them because Buck is my favorite character and I love seeing him shine. I’m heartbroken by his heart being broken. I’m heartbroken because I saw all this potential that I assumed professional storytellers would also see and not squander. That assumption left me blindsided when it seemed they did squander it.

And everyone saying it was written on the wall - It wasn’t. Yes, Buck’s relationships always fail. That’s how things work - Relationships fail until one WORKS. And this one seemed like it should work. Unless you are watching through goggles telling you without a doubt Buck’s endgame lays elsewhere, there was no warning that this is what would happen at the 6 month mark of the relationship.

And it seems like a really dumb thing to do, to let go of such an interesting tool you have available to you as a storyteller. You didn’t have to make the character such an asset to you and the story.

Maybe I’m jumping the gun and they do have plans for possible stories in the future. Awkward emergencies with the 118 and 217 on a scene together for some reason that will use some of that potential. So maybe there is some reason to hope.

Or maybe it is just wasted. And I’m pissed as a fan of the show and as someone who feels emotionally whiplashed by 8x05 and 8x06.

I guess we’ll see. I refuse get my hopes up. Perhaps I’ll watch the show live tonight…Depends if being up at 2am means I’m exhausted by 6:30pm again today (I was only able to force myself to stay awake until 8pm last night). I’ll watch eventually regardless. But I’m probably back to watching the show the way I did before and how I currently watch Ghosts and Tracker…When I remember the show, I’ll binge what I missed. Or I’ll turn it on if I remember during the timeslot. It’s no longer must see TV for me that I will make plans around.

Anyway, done rambling…

[sonicasura]

Oh is he ever. Isao is going to be an nightmare for No 9, so much so I won't be surprised if he managed to hold out longer against the kaiju. Giving everyone more time to get ready. And you got no idea how mad he is about the mushroom creating No 15 and how badly treated she is.

And Kafka being extra vicious to No 9 after this? Sonic, I think thats an understatment. Our himbo here is going to make sure the other kaiju is going to die painfully when he gets his hands on him.

Reno is also close by on that, as he is very pissed too. Noone messes with his little sister.

Awkward dosen't even come close to how it is between Isao and Kikoru once living with each other. Time can only tell how well that goes indeed.

Speaking of Reno and Kikoru, the pair has quite the sibling bond going on. Sure they got along as well as oil and water those, and many times Kafka had to separate the two when they got into physical fights as well. Kafka sometime swears it starts as soon as they make eye contact across the damn hall.

But despite all that, the two slowly form a proper borther and sister bond between themself. Given enough time, Reno and Kikoru would be seen often together when not around their friends or at school. Often getting odd looks when they get into a squabble or are just out getting some stuff for dinner when Kafka is working late at the Monster Sweppers.

Not to mention, with the insanity that is Kafka Hibino's life, the two have come to reley on each other on the sheer antics that the himbo can make. Its far easier and better to handle that when you know you ain't alone in this.

Though Kikoru finds herself calling Reno oniichan or aniki as time goes on, even saying it in public from time to time almost absentmindedly. Which ends up rather embarssing for the young girl when her school friends hears her calling Reno that or when with the other rookies of the third division.

But over all? The girl is blooming like nothing else under the care of Kafka, even with constant nightmares and other thing that life wants to throw at her. And she loves it when Kafka has the time to take her and Reno on trips, as it allowes her to see and experiance all kinds of things she's missed over the years.

My brain conjured the image of No.9 in the Peter Griffin pose because Isao is being extra feisty on him. He's beginning to regret eating the man then just the weapon. Never has prey gave him such suffering. The Mushroom Man is lucky that he ain't dealing with Kafka, Reno and Kikoru at the same time.

I love those two being siblings alongside Dadka shenanigans. Let the trio be cute and silly together during their free time. They deserve to execute that dynamic more often in canon.

[overwatch-does-stuff]

"How pissed would I be if they got a heterosexual love interest in OW2?" - a tier list

Explanations below cut:

"GOD PLEASE NO" category:

Bastion: Not that I don't think that Bastion shouldn't have enough agency to flirt, it's only that Blizz would force Bastion to be male and their love interest to be female and THAT would make me furious. Plus there's so much more interesting things you could do with their character. If hetero romance is the only spot where my bot gets screen time there's going to be violence.

Soldier 76 and Tracer: should be pretty fucking obvious lmao

Reinhardt: If I attempted to explain my reasoning on why Rein is aro/ace this post would be incomprehensible. TL;DR I want this old and still single character to not lament about how he's somehow incomplete just because he didn't find a romantic relationship. If I ever hear the words "I regret that I didn't settle down" come out of Reinhardt's mouth I'm assassinating Blizzard's lead writers.

"Mad" category:

Ashe: they'd just write her as a tsundere. Plus have you seen this woman she's so gay. I'm claiming her for the lesbians.

Moira: I just think she'd much rather use the men close to her in her life as lab experiments instead, you know?

Orisa: To be fair, do you really think she'd be interested in any romance at all at this point in her life? Romance isn't going to protect Numbani.

Symmetra: Not that I don't think she shouldn't be in a romantic relationship, it's just that I think she deserves a girlfriend, you know? I can feel it in my bones. Plus I think blizz would try and make Lucio or perhaps a Vishkar employee the hetero love interest and THAT would piss me off so badly.

Sigma: this man needs therapy first, jesus christ

Ana: This woman's already sacrificed her family once in the line of duty. She just flat out wouldn't seek out another vulnerable connection like that, I think.

"annoyed" category:

Junkrat: this dude getting any screentime would annoy me, actually, so I guess I'm not biased against him being straight??

Mercy: She's already so cookie-cutter already!! Being straight would somehow make her even more statistically average as a character!!

Pharah: I would prefer that the writers focus on her mommy issues first.

Sombra: I could see her fucking around to manipulate men for information but I think she's got too much of a complex to actually let herself be emotionally vulnerable in that sort of way a love interest demands.

Hanzo: this man is sad and pathetic. no woman would be attracted to him. (WAIT ACTUALLY ALTERNATE JOKE- he had a wife and now he's post-divorce with zero fix-it tension. I think that'd be funny, actually. I would accept that.)

"Neutral but still not wild about it" category:

Reaper: whatever Blizzard is planning with his old family is probably going to come to fruition, and I can honestly say I'm indifferent as I never was a R76 shipper.

Cole: He's charming enough. Seeing him flirt with women wouldn't be like pulling teeth.

Widowmaker: "redemption through love interest" sort of thing?? I'd probably be madder if I actually cared about her as a character. She's also here because of Gerard shenanigans. Angsty murder-regret-pining for him would be tolerable.

Baptiste: see Cole's notes, but also add in the interaction that confirms he canonically loves MILFs

Echo: "learning how to be human through love with a man" falls just close enough to the manic pixie dreamgirl trope to set off my alarm bells but not enough for me to place her any higher on the list.

Doomfist: I could see him having an evil wife that's doing the evil shenanigans with him. Actually, I would like to see whatever design Doomfist's wife might have. I think that would be badass as hell. But on the flipside there's an equal chance that Blizz could think that pairing him with a non-evil innocent little lady could redeem him or add angst or something and that keeps him thoroughly out "okay" territory.

"Okay, I could be on board" category:

(there's a surprising amount of people here!)

Lucio, D.va, and Mei: These three all fall under the same category for me, and that category is "I think they'd be cute with their crushes". Of all the Overwatch caste, these three give me the strongest hetero vibes. I can't explain it. I apologize

Roadhog: I could be on board with him finding a gal that softens him up. Only caveat is that the gal shouldn't be conventionally attractive either or I will eat Blizzard alive.

Winston: Have you seen this guy? I think it'd be cute as hell to have him try to flirt with girls. "but he's a gorilla-" shut the fuck up. Let him have his moment!

Zarya: okay here I have to explain. You were probably expecting her to be up in the "GOD PLEASE NO" category because you thought I might claim her for the lesbians. And that assumption. . . kind of pisses me off? Because every frat gamer boy back in 2016 looked at her nontraditional femininity and the only way their puny minds could rationalize seeing a woman that wasn't tailor-made for their boners was to just slap the lesbian label onto her. She got labeled a dyke as a very hostile thing against her character, so I think it would actually be more forward-thinking for her to be open to male love interests. Bi or straight women shouldn't have to fear "looking too masculine" in their search for men. TL;DR I think she'd appreciate a femboy

Zenyatta: He's just so sweet! He can be in love with anybody he wants to lol, man or woman or neither.

Brigitte: Okay, okay, this one's on me, but Brigitte reminds me way too much of my sister, who is happily married to her loving husband and I can't get that out of my brain. I apologize.

Genji: He's almost exclusively here for the joke that he's been happily married to a loving wife for three years now, and nobody knows about it because he keeps his private and work life extremely separate, and he just never thought to bring it up until Torbjorn mentioned anniversaries. Just to really, really stick it to post-divorce Hanzo and whatever Soldier 76 has going on with Vincent. (I'm not sure why this bit is funnier when it's a wife instead of a husband, but it is. Trust me.)

Hammond: I want him to have a human girlfriend back in Junkertown. No explanation. She even knows he's a hamster. She doesn't care.

"(Canonically married to the opposite sex)" category:

Torbjorn: Torb my beloved you're doing amazing sweetie, you go spoil that wife of yours!! You treat her nice and well!!!

--- tag section

@ow-anteater I apologize but I need you to see this. You should make your own tierlist lol I'm interested in your thoughts on the matter.

[darkfannibal]

Some more Nygmobblepot thoughts, as I don’t seem to be able to shake this show or the ship.

I’ve seen people call Nygmobblepot queerbait, but as I see it, the show acknowledged the ship and they had a storyline that played out badly for them. Unrequited love does not (always) mean queerbait, sorry. It’s just as valid a storyline as any other.

That said, I feel there were quite a few better ways to handle this.

First of all, later on in the show we saw Ed and Lee fall for each other, but in the end they betrayed and tried to kill each other too.

So what bugged me is how the two relationships got treated differently when it came to showing physical affection. During S3 Ed and Oswald were undeniably close, they were friends but it was definitely hinted at being more, from both sides. And what did we get to show this closeness? A hug, one lousy hug. Don’t get me wrong, I love that scene and I will defend it till the bitter end.

I’m not one for calling everything I don’t like homophobia, but here they could have kissed. It would’ve felt right. One kiss, leaving both of them confused and dangling. Ed still would have walked off and left Oswald sitting in the living room. It wouldn’t have changed the next events one bit, because Oswald would still have invited Ed for dinner. Ed would have gotten the wine and met Isabella. In his confusion, he still falls for her riddles and her beauty, because nothing has changed. Isabella would still be the same non-character that never gets any development because she’s only there as a plot device to make Ed start hating Oswald. By the time Oswald kills her all we know is that she seduces Ed, she dresses up like Miss Kringle, she likes riddles and she KNOWS Oswald loves Ed… that’s literally all there is to her. But I wasn’t going to critique Isabella here, just the way the Ed/Oswald relationship was portrayed.

The one thing that probably wouldn’t work is that Ed wouldn’t be as surprised by Barbara’s revelation. The kiss would have given him some idea as to the nature of Oswald’s feelings for him, but tbh… a kiss really doesn’t have to mean that much, right? Or maybe he forgot all about it after his all consuming crush on Isabella (totally canon by the way), leaving Oswald even more devastated.

Anyway… jump to season four when Ed spends time with Lee. There’s some kind of tension between the two of them, they play off each other really well and there’s some chemistry. So BAM, they end up together (in a way), like any other straight pair that has a common goal. In their ultimate betrayal, they get the dramatic, intimate and very Hannibalesque goodbye I wanted to see for ages.

I like Ed/Lee for several reasons, one of which is that they did work well together in The Narrows and that she genuinely seemed to help him even after their history together. I really don’t see anything wrong with the way their relationship developed and got destroyed in canon, it was a good storyline that worked for me.

But… and here we go… I hate that the writers/network felt the need to portray both relationships so differently. What’s the difference? How is that not homophobia? I’m still not convinced S3 was queerbait, but man… I do get pissed off at the difference in how the two relationships got shown on screen.

[littlemisspascal]

Pedro Pascal Characters as Element Benders

This has probably been done before, but I watched an episode of ATLA earlier and thought wow, I wonder what Pedro’s characters would be and thus this was written in about 15 minutes. It’s probably not very good cuz it’s so rushed, but read on if you want to see my headcanons for the boys.

Also if anyone out there wants to come up with their own versions, I’d love to see what you imagine ❤

Javier - firebender, definitely. I mean, the guy smokes more than any other character I’ve seen on tv and I love the mental image of him lighting a cigarette using his own hands. His anger, too, at the corruption of the government I imagine as a fire constantly burning away inside of him, making his skin warm to the touch and his snappy retorts scorch the ears of anyone who gets on his bad side.

Max -- waterbender only because he’d totally master bloodbending through it. He’s a vampire so of course blood has to factor in somewhere. His bending skills in combination with his hypnotism ability means he’d essentially be the most dangerous predator in the whole office building, inflating his arrogance beyond measure in the process.

Whiskey - waterbender because if Katara can use a water whip then Whiskey would definitely make use of one too. Enemies would think he carries a flask full of alcohol, but it’s really full of H2O ready to unleash upon them as a powerful wave. 

Pero - I really feel like he’d be an earthbender. I just picture him grumpily stomping the ground whenever William pisses him off (which is often) and sending a wall of rock directly at the Irish man’s face. Or if he gets really stubborn then he’ll just build himself a little rock fortress to block out the rest of the world and give him a minute of solace so he can pretend aliens don’t exist.

Oberyn - firebender, no questions asked. I mean, I don’t know much about GOT but I know Oberyn constantly wears a yellow robe with suns on it, plus I’ve seen a lot of interviews where Pedro talks about the prince’s passionate personality makes him impulsive. All those characteristics to me scream firebender and wouldn’t it have been awesome if during his final fight he actually breathed fire?!

Marcus P - this sweetheart is totally an airbender. He just seems like such a tenderhearted man and wants to help anyone in need whether that be sending them a cool breeze in the middle of a hot summer day or helping get a child’s kite down from a tree with one well-aimed current. Aesthetically I imagine his hair always looking fluffy and windblown, making his lover want to run their hands through his hair all hours of the day and he’d love every second of it.

Maxwell - earthbender. It’s canon he has a passion for gemology and an interest in oil and I mean, he literally becomes the dreamstone (sorry, spoilers) so in my mind it stands to reason he’d be a pretty good earthbender. Another spoiler (sorry) from the movie is that scene where the giant wall rises out of nowhere and blocks off the city? Imagine Maxwell doing it because that rich oil man pissed him off with his condescending personality. Everyone would know to never make a joke out of Maxwell Lord ever again.

Marcus M - airbender. I mean, the movie doesn’t really show what Marcus’ powers are precisely other than apparently he’s got a pair of katanas, so I think it’d be cool if instead of just having a really strong bond with a pair of weapons, he bends air to send them flying into his hands. Also that scene where he leaps at the alien and gets captured? It was a super high jump so I could totally see him using his airbending to help give him a boost. (I got nothing in this headcanon to explain why he uses the little droid to fly around though, so let’s just pretend that doesn’t exist).

Ezra - of course he’s an earthbender. Just like Maxwell, it’s canon this guy has a passion for digging stuff out of the ground and becoming rich off of it. I imagine it’d be a little hard for him to relearn how to bend with only one arm after the events of the movie, but maybe he could use his feet like Toph does and master a form of bending unlike any other seen before. He would also use his massive vocabulary and honey-sweet tongue to confuse/charm competing prospectors right before he makes the ground disappear beneath them. 

Din - I thought long and hard about this one and I kept coming back to earthbending only because the Mandalorians would teach him to learn metalbending through it. He would use it to get dents out of his armor as well as fix his beloved Razor Crest, but without a doubt the most important thing he’d use his bending for would be to play catch with Grogu and the little metal ball. The cuteness would kill all of us. 

Frankie - I see him as an airbender. He’s a pilot at heart, loves to soar above the earth through the clouds. When he was a kid, he definitely had one of those gliders like Aang does in the show and showed off to Santi just how high he could fly (I totally believe him and Santi were childhood friends, you can’t change my mind). There is nothing he loves more than the breeze ruffling his hair and occasionally using his airbending against the boys when they’re misbehaving by sending their hats flying off their heads. 

Dave - this murder-loving suburban dad is a firebender. He’s the type to burn at a low simmer, deceiving those around him by thinking he’s calm and collected, but he’ll burn you to ash the second you tick him off or get in the way of his plans. It also would explain why he lost so badly at the end of the movie because the torrential rain would weaken even the strongest of firebenders. 

Permanent Taglist: @promiscuoussatan​, @vintagesaph​, @sylphene​, @over300books​, @aerynwrites​, @softly-sad​, @chibi-yuki​, @theocatkov​, @oh-no-a-whovian​, @freeshavocadoooo​, @you-and-i-deserve-the-world​, @randomness501​, @lin-djarin​, @happiestsparkleofall​, @gallowsjoker​, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives​, @captain-jebi​, @absurdthirst​, @coaaster​, @leilei-draws​, @melobee​, @stilllivindue2spite​, @pointy-sharp​, @artsymaddie​, @disgruntledspacedad​

[m0e-ru]

Throughout writing the GSA SL AU, what has been your favorite part(s) of it to flesh out? Also, what drew you to Izanami as a character, what made you want to expand on them to write your AU? I think I've seen you talk about why in passing, though Bad Memory makes it to remember so sorry if you have explained that before.

I was going through my analysis tag and called myself so smart and maybe I am glad for my dramatic writing to make lore sound so pish poshy . also it's okay !!! if you don't remember . if the social anxiety I am a multilingual mess of a chatterbox who will say the same thing over and over again like a broken record but maybe multiple copies of the same record just warped differently . does that make sense. my english teachers have told me I need to work on my summary writing and I don't think I improved <3 anywho cracks knuckles. also happy 1.3k words

gsaslau........ my favorite was.... everything. the world building, the lore, the characters, mental flowcharts and concept maps. canon divergency has always been my favorite, paired with the fact I love analysing shit in the first place. I took one look at this idiot and saw all the pitiful overlooked potential hiding in their dumb oil scented uniform and tried to rip it out and put it in centrifuges and stretching it out as far as possible. people think I'm out of dough but I'm a little menace with a squirrel living inside my brain who just adds more dough. I will get a Thought and sit in a discord chat and monopolize it while literally everyone else is asleep because of the concept of timezones and I type for three hours and pass out; for an afternoon nap or the fact it became 3am.

iznmi is just sooooooo. barren. an absolute blank slate but also they're not. they're unpolished and deliberately dirtied. maybe theyre so empty and I have to take them to literal puddles and make sure every drop of whatever makes them at least half full in a sense. they're the puddle and I dug out a lake with a toy shovel. under all those layers I know there's nothing. but there's also something. there's a corpse. an actual person. an answer. a question. a migraine that would torment me for a week maybe.

a tiny tiny bit of context, before entering uh. here. the p4 community or if im ever actually considered to be part of it, I came from a humble little community where everyone was friends (ninokuni). I did my fair share of analysis and canon divergency and expressed my fear for bigger communities for mainstream media. so when i got here I decided to stay in this hole. this ditch. quarry mine. reminiscent of patrick star's house. I thought it'd be the same but NO. I fight tooth and nail in my own house and welcome people selectively like I'm a rabid animal sniffing people left and right. anyway

ummmm twirls hair swings legs. gsaslau origin story patreon special. i was obsessed with the dumb voiced npc at the start of the game the jp dub made him sound so fruity and my dad and sister and I joked around how he was a vampire for shits and kept making absurd headcanons throughout playing. the fact they showed up only on rainy days only made them more sketchy. in fact I could've casually liked this moron without the whole 'I'm god actually' bullshit going on.

I watched visualive! it was the end for me. no literally my brain was hardwired so badly I knew from that point on i would never be a normal p4 fan ever. adachis chair car adventure. THE END OF IT ALL.

D'OH I was obsessed. why was adachis clown ass acting like this. he's never like this. why has this been the only guy shown to piss him off ever. DONT get me started with th attendant I was sitting there 'NO WAYYY NO FUCKING WAYYYYYYY SO THIS GUY IS SIGNIFICANT IN ONE (1) OFFICIAL MEDIA.?' i was spiraling

I finished the game and that did Not help my conscience. I entered the fandom at that point and had my darkest days. but I learned a lot from it and I'm grateful for that

I was nitpicking EVERYTHING. I was asking so much questions and I had so much fun answering them. then coming back a year later with so much more answers, or maybe debunk my own views with something more enlightening I had to write my revelations while brushing my teeth after a shower. interpreting was great connecting dots were thrilling. the "what if" questions went too far and started. this (gsaslau) WHICH technically started when I watched vl and it hit me full force once I actually started thinking about it.

to me there was just. so much to do with the god and their humansona you don't understand. the fact they're intertwined with lore so much you had to check every nook and cranny and go mad while at it? then again that was a win win for me since I was basically picking at media analysis too.

I was there.... brute forcing translation as a non native. cracking into the game trying to find SOMETHING. I was buying books i couldn't read for One (1) page of trivia in a small little box with less than a paragraph. I went through spinoffs games and novels and drama cds and stageplays and art books and magazines and interviews and livestreams and blog posts and tweets. I was learning so much as time went by and i had so many new pieces I could tinker with and create completely new machinations I would adore.

I drew art comics wrote fic and analysis and wiki articles I edited pictures videos gifs modded games cracked into them for assets 3d models dialogue secret textures events I manufactured my own merch for pete's sake I gaslit so many people with fake screenshots and convincing formats and i wish i could do that again

okay kinda segued there I'll try and go back. my favorite to flesh out was... world building? dealing with the butterfly affect and figuring out the consequences in this and seeing how the story change would make me so excited. maybe souji wouldn't want to kill namatame on the spot and his vision would stay foggy because he can't accept the truth that some of the people he's friends with are those who started this citywide crisis. maybe adachi does care about people and realizes his feelings and decides to abandon his fake life he started for the sake of his loved ones so they wouldn't get hurt again. maybe namatame was a bit happier after the trauma of someone leaving him and more mentally stable and took care of nanako well that he's earned her trust and does his best not to break that loyalty ever. making parallels like marie and mim being one and the same and so different at the same time. MAYBE god develops humanity within themself after being so convinced they couldn't and has conflicting morals between their duty and their wants as their own person. exploring the possible relationships are also high up there like souji and namatame being friends or nanako scaring a gas station attendant twice her size. adachi and mim's friendship is a given.

iznmi canon or not, they just have....so so much potential and the fact they're lore itself doesn't help. and I think it's fucking hilarious you can finish the game knowing NOTHING about them. at all. what if there was more to this silly npc who only appears during a rainy weather flag..... vl sparked too many ideas. what if god had a bit more screentime in that personality that we could see their thought process some more while they observe the protagonist's journey throughout the entire game. the realization they hey, maybe humans' Shadows won't kill them one day. maybe they'll have the strength to stop denying themselves and accept them to achieve a greater power.

okay maybe this is enough rambling or i show you my two years worth of discord messages and scattered google docs . thank you for asking. hugs and kisses . and remember: gas staion atednat

[iceeckos12]

some prompt ideas for your perusal! cold hands; lingering gaze; sharp words; an unexpected gift; walking with the wind causing your scarf and hair to billow out behind you.

a;kdjf i am very slowly working through these prompts. thanks so much for sending them! i settled on sharp words. and since you didnt specify the pairing that means i get to pick so....s2 canon divergence jontim??

thank you again to Bloodsbane on discord for helping with characterization.

cw for stalking, jon is vaguely suicidal, casual discussion of tim theoretically murdering jon

It’s two o’clock on a Saturday afternoon, and Tim is standing in front of his house, arms aching under a heavy load of groceries, staring at the person sitting on the bench across from his house. Their face is hidden behind a newspaper, but he can faintly make out the peach-colored plasters that encircle the fingers even from here, and he cannot do this right now.

He sets the groceries down on the front porch with a bit more force than he meant to and marches across the street. The fingers tighten and the paper crinkles loudly as he approaches, but the hands don’t lower, and that somehow pisses him off even more.

Tim grabs the top of the newspaper and yanks, and Jon lets out a surprised cry as half his cover is ripped away. They stare at each other for a moment, Tim so incandescent with anger that he can’t even begin to speak, Jon’s eyes wide and surprised and tinged with the faintest flush of fear.

Tim takes a step forward. Jon lets out a tiny, pathetic sound and flinches, lifting his arms to protect his head, and Tim -

Stops. Feels every bit of the anger drain out of him, replaced with bone-deep hurt and bitter disappointment and pure exhaustion.

“Well?” he asks, gesturing toward his house. “If you’re not planning on leaving, you might as well come inside.”

Jon’s throat bobs as he swallows once, then twice, and slowly lowers his arms. His gaze is still bright with fear as he tentatively asks, “Are you...are you going to kill me?”

Anger flashes through him white hot, and he closes his eyes and breathes through it. Once he feels like he’s not going to start screaming, he opens his eyes and looks steadily down at Jon. “And what would you do if I was going to kill you?” his gaze travels slowly over Jon, noting the rumpled shirt, the stark lack of anything to defend himself with. Out loud he wonders, “What was your plan?”

Jon just looks at him, mouth agape, like he hadn’t thought that far ahead. Tim sighs, turns around, and walks back to the house. Either Jon will follow him, or he won’t.

He’s not sure if he’s disappointed or relieved when he hears quiet footsteps behind him.

Jon doesn’t say anything as Tim lets them into the house, as he puts his groceries away. He just hovers in the living room, looking around warily like he’s never seen the place before, which he has. Tim, Jon, and Sasha used to have movie nights here when they were researchers, and the memory of them sitting together on the couch, laughing over some stupid plot twist or what have you, almost bowls him over.

“Take a seat,” Tim orders stiffly. “Tea?”

Jon opens his mouth, then thinks better of it and simply nods, shoulders tight as a bowstring as he sits carefully on one of the chairs.

Tim thinks about all the things that he wants to say, all the things he probably shouldn’t say, as he fills the kettle. What he really wants are some magic words that will make everything go back to the way it was before they joined the archives, when there were no worms or murderers and things were easy. There aren’t, of course there aren’t, and it’s a stupid, wistful thought, but he wants it so badly that he has to dig his fingernails into the palms of his hands to ground himself.

But that’s impossible, because there were worms, and Jon’s paranoia has a very real source, for all that his reaction to it is invasive and unacceptable. He doesn’t think there’s any possible way to fix it, but there has to be a way to make this better, to - to relieve the pressure, so to speak.

Christ, Tim just wants his friend back.

So he puts the kettle on the stove, removes two mugs and a box of tea down from his cabinet. Takes a deep breath and turns to look at Jon, whose gaze immediately snaps from the house to him.

“So,” Tim begins, then stops, uncertain where to go from there. Then, because Jon is still favoring him with that wary, suspicious scowl, “Stop looking at me like that.”

Jon’s head jerks down and his gaze skitters away, but he doesn’t apologize.

Tim lets out a ragged sigh, drags his hands over his face, and reminds himself that Jon came here despite his suspicion, which must mean that deep down he’s sick of this too. “Jon, this has to stop.”

Jon bites his lip, his shoulders tensing up around his ears. He looks two seconds from bolting, but still he says nothing.

“Christ, Jon,” Tim bursts out, slapping his hand against the counter for emphasis. He almost pauses when Jon flinches so hard he almost falls right out of his seat, but shakes his head and soldiers on. “What - what the fuck do you want? From - from me, from Martin. What can I do to convince you that I’m not some cold-blooded killer?”

“What I want is to find Gertrude’s killer!” Jon bursts out, finally. “If I can just figure it out, get some answers -”

Tim throws his arms into the air. “And then what? You - you’re not even carrying anything to defend yourself. What if I was the killer?” he looks around the kitchen frantically. Points to the kettle, “What if I poisoned this tea? Or,” points to the knife block, “Or took one of these knives out and stabbed you? What then, Jon?”

“Then at least I would know,” Jon grits, eyes wild. “At least then it would be over.”

“Well sure,” Tim retorts, sharp as anything. “And then you’d be no better off than Gertrude, because you’d be dead.”

They both freeze mid-gesture at that. Jon stares at Tim, eyes wide, mouth pressed in a firm, tight line. Tim lowers his hands to his sides, the air in his lungs escaping in one long, slow rush.

“Is that really what you want?” he asks, and it comes out all soft, less like the sharp accusation he wanted it to. “Because...even if you don’t believe me, that’s not what I want.”

Jon finally looks away, his long, clever fingers rubbing senseless patterns against the arm of the chair. “I want to believe you,” he says miserably. “I’m just....”

The kettle behind him screams, and Tim finally creaks into motion. He turns around and mechanically pours the boiling water into the mugs, watching as the liquid almost immediately begins to darken. He adds a bit of the milk that he’d purchased just that day, then some sugar, and walks over to deposit one in front of Jon.

Then he sits down on the couch, cradling the other mug between his palms, and asks, “Do you really think that I’m a killer?”

Jon turns to him, eyes wide. “No!” then cringes inward, one hand reaching up to tug at his messy curls. “Yes. Fuck, I can’t...I just don’t know, Tim. You’re, I don’t think you are, I don’t - but Gertrude didn’t either, did she? She wasn’t, she wasn’t careful enough, and someone killed her, someone got her, and if I’m not careful they’ll get me too. I, I can’t relax, I can’t get comfortable -”

Tim raises a quelling hand, cutting him off before he can spiral any further, burying the hurt that one desperate yes had caused. “So we’re all equally suspicious.”

“Yes,” Jon says, relieved. He picks up his tea, looks down into it, before setting it aside again, like he really does suspect that it’s been poisoned.

“Okay,” Tim says, drumming his fingers against his knee, thinking. Jon is watching him intently, though it’s less frightened and more hopeful, like he’s expecting Tim to magically produce the solution to all his problems. It used to be nice, when someone as smart as Jon looked at him like that. Instead he just feels vaguely annoyed, because this isn’t his fucking responsibility - except he’s committed now, so it kind of is. “...What if I helped you?”

Jon gives him a startled look. “I - what?”

Tim shrugs, trying to figure out how to word this in a way that’ll get through to Jon. “I mean, you said it yourself. You don’t actually have a plan if you find the killer, so it doesn’t matter. If I’m the murderer you’ll be dead, but at least you’ll know.” He can’t believe he’s actually suggesting this. “If I’m not, then you’ll have a second pair of hands helping you figure this all out.”

Jon looks equally incredulous for a moment, but then it fades into quiet consideration. Eventually he says, “...But why? Why would you...”

“Because I hate that you’re doing this, but you’re scared and I don’t think I can convince you to stop,” Tim tells him tiredly. “I’d rather know what you’re doing instead of you just...shutting me out.” That hurts more than anything else, he doesn’t say. “And if I help, maybe this will all be over sooner. Maybe this will finally end.”

For a moment Jon looks at him, and for a moment he gets a glimpse of what’s buried beneath all the primal terror and sleep-deprived fervor: Jon as he was, young and small and scared. That little bit of clarity lands like a gut punch.

“...I’m sorry, Tim,” Jon whispers, curling in on himself, wrapping his fingers in his sweater. “I’m sorry that you have to do this. I’m so sorry. But...yes, please help me.”

“Yeah, well,” Tim forces a wry smile on his face that probably looks more like a grimace, and feels something lock in place. “What are us assistants for?”

[janiedean]

I feel bad for all the nice J*nsa shippers who like their ship for whatever reasons (tropes, pretty art, aesthetic appeal, whatever) and know it's not canon but get associated with the misogynistic Dany hating crowd who act like Jon being attracted to Ygritte is J*nsa foreshadowing because red hair (I guess Jon should fuck Edmure Tully too? Omg give me Dark!Jon getting revenge on Catelyn by seducing her brother!) Tell me something. I'm new to the fandom but was J*nsa popular before the show? And I've heard something about the OG J*nsa shippers being alienated by the new shippers who insisted it had to be canon and acted like the series is called, "A song of J*nsa #danysux." I don't find that hard to believe because I know people who are now ashamed of calling themselves J*nsa shippers. Like, at this point, it's not only rival shippers who hate it. Even Gendrya/Braime/Jon stans/etc have started disliking that ship. You know your fandom is a problem when people who have nothing to do with Jnsa have a problem with it.

me: reads this ask

me: iwastheregandalf.gif which I can't find now but

okay anon buckle up because I am sadly well-equipped to answer this ask but before I do lemme tell you dark jon seducing edmure to take revenge on cat is LITERALLY THE BEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD but *clears throat* ALL RIGHT THEN.

disclaimer: as anon says I have no issue with like the shippers mentioned by anon in the beginning and ngl I agree, I have ABSOLUTELY ZERO FUCKING STAKES in the j*nsa vs j*nerys war and the only het jon ship I gaf about is jon/ygritte and we all know where that ended up I just... have been here since 2011/adwd was over and all the fic around was just for the books under secret lj communities and asoiaf qualified for yuletide and I have... seen... things.... and I actually have like uh had... beef... with some people in there and I know things bc ppl who hated those others told me stuff so anyway *sigh* buckle up anon I'mma tell you the story of jon shipwars through the years

in order, the old gods help me here, under the cut bc this is long as fuck

when I got into fandom also given what numbers were on ao3 one ship was popular and it was sansan. no like sansan was lit. the only asoiaf ship on ao3 with more than 200 fics. jb had twenty when i checked first. jc had like around 100-ish because of the show but sansan dwarfed anything. I posted the first jon/ygritte fic on the ao3 tag and the fourth throbb fic and like the others were all reposts from lj kinkmemes. nothing was popular before the show except for sansan when it comes to huge numbers bc grrm doesn't like fic and it was all hush hush until the show made it impossible to control and that ship was the one with a huge enough fanbase it actually had numbers, so like... j*nsa wasn't popular in the way nothing else was popular until it got screentime on the show

now, that stated, j*nsa had a... fair amount of fic for a rareship which was mostly book-based and from og shippers that were there from before the show and liked it for what it was but literally none of them thought it was gonna be canon, like it wasn't huge or anything but it had a small but dedicated fanbase who did their own thing and thought it was fun/liked the idea but that was it

that fandom had their own niche of hcs that they cultivated and shit except that like... at the end of S5/beginning of S6 there was a surge in shipping for... well obvious reasons bc it was obv sansa was getting to the wall and that would have been all nice and good but a) it was the time puritanical shipping was starting to take root and the 'shipping sansa with sandor or tyrion is hella problematic' rhetoric had started to circle coming from sans*ery shippers mostly but I'mma not open that fucking can of worms here, b) while the ending of S5 had more of a theon/sansa spike, the j*nsa stuff started getting big

now here we have to mention my villain origin story ie: j*nsa fandom had this one stan whose name I won't make because honestly it's been years and if she's still around I don't want her to remember I exist who was a bnf, wrote for... the website that created the whole larry/carol thing etc who was really fixed on this thing that j*nsa was actually canon and started writing extremely popular meta about it. now you're gonna ask how do you know, I know because this person once wrote a meta named 'why robb stark is a dick' and I told her that it was really fucking bad meta and she took it so badly she kept on trash talking me on her blog/her podcast (I was apparently the insane robb stark fangirl l m a o good lord) and like that was when some sane ppl who argued with her informed me in pvt that she was basically harping on the CANON thing when they'd have been okay with like... it being crackshipping and that she was basically cultivating a hoarde of followers who were harping on them/the ogs and basically ostracizing them;

I would like to add that this person - before her tumblr got 'accidentally deleted' and remade it therefore deleted most receipts for, er, her so-called meta which included stuff like ned and cat raised sansa as a sexual object and only wanted to sell her like cattle - had at some point started a round robin fic thing where... some of the characters mocked openly said stuff that some of the og fans had said specifically targeting them and people in that side basically went harassing anyone who didn't agree with that specific notion

now never mind that this person basically coined an entire term to describe ppl who liked white guys and excused all their wrongdoings out of my conversation re robb basically lying about everything I said as if I didn't have the receipts and tried to sell shirts with it and it didn't work and like then she got kicked out of her own website because she was telling her commenters disagreeing pretty shitty insults (considering I was called psychotic for disagreeing with her that time I don't doubt it) I think at some point she stepped back from fandom bc idk wtf she's up to these days and I don't want to, but basically at that point the dam was broken and there was a bunch of puritanical shippers harping on anyone who didn't agree with j*nsa is canon endgame stuff

this also includes an incident when those ppl were like... passing themselves as throbb shippers and ended up trying to tell t*hramsay shippers off the theon tag based on moral reasons and I ended up arguing with all of them (and they were all from that crowd) which in turn landed me in contact with other og j*nsa shippers who were like detached from that fandom bc those same people harassed them away as well ssooooo fun

anyway when S6 happened everyone was high on it and whatnot but I wasn't gonna begrudge them that I mean... you shipped it for years, canon is delivering you, good for you, but then j*nerys happened

god j*nerys happened

aaand basically...... I mean personally I was there like are y'all seriously arguing about the best incest jon ship out there but like basically the j*nsa endgame side was like AH JON IS PLAYING DANY SEE IF IT DOESN'T HAPPEN, the j*nerys obv got defensive af and both sides were sort of alternatively shitting on jon/ygritte anyway and depicting any other romantic rship jon could have as abusive™ and during S8 it just got worse and like I tried to stay out of it but basically from what I'm seeing now idk how the j*neryses are doing but on the j*nsa one it's ah jon's gonna play dany anyway and she's going to go insane like in the show so SHOW TRUTHING EVERY OTHER WAY and like again denying that sandor exists or that tyrion exists and like I barely touch my corner (sansan) but I ended up arguing with j*nsa/th*nsa people on twitter who were antis and is2g it was white-hair inducing and I know for sure the sansa/tyrion shippers were harassed to hell and back throughout so FUN

and even if the show didn't go there now since everyone there banked on the jnsa endgame thing and admitting you're wrong is like... not a thing, they still haven't let go of it and attach to that ship any shred of evidence which honestly is grasping at straws half of the time (like... the sansa/alysanne parallels like guys please no) and which is why every other ship is starting to get fed up, attaching canon proof of stuff from other ships onto theirs see that batb argument and jb is platonic but jonsa is not nvm taking all the sansan stuff and throwing it on j*nsa but then denying that sansan has canon evidence (like guys I had to read sansa touching his shoulder when saying gregor wasn't a true knight wasn't meaningful and we were seeing things please) and blah blah blah

this also goes hand in hand with the fixation on like... villanizing dany at all costs and like is2g I have zero investment in dany or her storyline I don't even remember it and I don't particularly care abt her either way and sure af I'm not for j*nerys endgame but like.... some stuff I read is completely excessive esp when fixing on how she's a completely mad tyrant who's gonna have to be put down and like... guys no

(also there's some srs stannis hate in that corner which I honestly don't get why they even care abt stannis but I had to read stuff like ppl don't recognize that dany and stannis are the real villains in this saga and like........ idek)

I think most of the og shippers are gone or don't ship it openly bc they don't want to be attached to the drama but like I also think they're pissing off everyone else bc like... I mean a bunch of them also were down with sansa being paired with other ppl as long as it meant a good ending for her except those ppl were... like everyone but the ppl she has actual contact with in canon which meant that at some point sansa/gendry was a thing and like.... you can imagine why arya/gendry shippers & arya stans were fed up, and there's also this tendency to behave like sansa is the center of the entire saga which like these books is named a song of jon snow basically can we pls make peace with it and personally I've had it with both j*nsa and j*nerys people since they started with that dumbass JON/YGRITTE WAS AN ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP rhetoric but I'm also fed up with the total ignoring that sandor exists/depicting us as delusional and honestly I also was by proxy fed up from the harassing of the sansa/tyrion shippers soooooooooooo

there were also instances of 'well theon is an acceptable choice other than jon bc he can't threaten her' which... i mean we all know what that meant and I'm not even commenting it bc it's one AM and I have no force to but I don't have to explain why it's not a progressive take now do I

there were also metas about how cousin incest being legal in half of the world means that jondany is a worse incest and j*nsa doesn't count as such and I was basically there like guys please just fucking own up to it but honestly I chose to forgot where I read that and I couldn't find the link if I tried

tldr: no one wants to admit that it's not gonna be endgame which considering the amount of fic they have on ao3 is imvho useless bc they have more content than like.. anything I ship that's not jb or that's actually like canon *cries in joncon/rhaegar but I mean renly/loras is canon and has less fic than them* so idk what's the problem with enjoying that instead of insisting it's gonna be canon when not even the show validated it while show truthing anyway when the only show truthing that can be truthed is the small council made of minorities and possibly jon eventually fucking off with the wildlings but not like that but like most people who thought it wasn't gonna be endgame had left/were made to leave by the time S7 rolled by and at this point since wow isn't out yet everyone is fandom-grasping at straws to find stuff to discourse on and we're here beating dead horses *shrug*

so that's... how it is but I would again like to point out that I don't judge ppl on their shipping, I don't particularly care about this entire feud bc I only ship jon with ppl he's not related to in whichever way and I try to stay out of this mess bc I don't really care to argue with ppl who have already decided to bend canon to whatever they want and will have to realize that it's not what grrm wrote at some point but like I have a very good memory and the above rant is as objective as possible also bc again I don't literally have a stake in that race I just think romantic/endgame j*nsa is not a thing and that ppl should stay in their lane and not harping on other ppl who ship whatever in general but especially when their ship is the most popular thing in fandom in the first place /two cents

[sunlightdances]

Everybody Knows I’m Torn Apart

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Rating: PG-13 for canonical descriptions of injuries and swearing. Summary: You manage to call Dean a few miles away from the bunker. Despite your injuries, you tell him the basics: you lost too much blood, you need a ride, you’re pretty sure you’re going to pass out soon. His gruff voice over the phone is the last thing you hear before you physically can’t keep your eyes open anymore. Author’s Note: I can’t stop reading/writing hurt/comfort fics. This is shorter than I wanted it to be, but I’m trying to find my muse again. Bear with me, pals. Disclaimer: Lyrics inset and title come from the NEEDTOBREATHE song “Mercy’s Shore”. I don’t own Dean or Supernatural. There’s also some dialogue in there very close to a scene from “Band of Brothers” which I also don’t own. Bonus points if you can spot it.

My arms are tired and weary These wounds are on full display I've tried every door in the hallway There's just nowhere that I feel safe

You manage to call Dean a few miles away from the bunker. Despite your injuries, you tell him the basics: you lost too much blood, you need a ride, you’re pretty sure you’re going to pass out soon.

His voice over the phone is the last thing you hear before you physically can’t keep your eyes open anymore. He’s shouting at you when you don’t respond, yelling at you to stay awake, dammit, but you can’t. You can’t.

You’re barely conscious when a rumble starts in the distance. Dimly, you feel relief wash over you. It gives you a push - you try to straighten up in your seat and cry out when the gash in your side pulls hard.

The driver’s side door opens so quickly you almost fall sideways, and then there’s a familiar pair of green eyes boring into yours.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Hi, Dean. You should see the other guy.”

“Where?” He asks gruffly, eyes flitting over you, looking for injuries.

“My left side.” You grunt, “A knife. Also, maybe a bullet in my right shoulder.”

His eyes flash. “Maybe?”

“Pretty sure.”

He swears again and more gently than you expect, he leans in so you can put your arm around his shoulders. His other arm goes under your knees and slowly he lifts you out of the car.

“Don’t go to sleep,” he warns, “Keep your eyes open. Sam’s waiting in the infirmary when we get back.”

You groan, “S’gonna hurt--” Your speech is a little slurred, vision a little blurry. God, you want to close your eyes. You’re so tired.

“Yeah, well. Not gonna hurt worse than getting stabbed and shot.”

“You sound mad.” You say quietly when he stops near the Impala, setting you down so you can lean against the side of the car. He opens the door and looks like he wants to pick you up again, but you protest, waving him off. He helps you still, lowering you into the passenger seat, and then he’s shutting the door, the sudden silence overwhelming you.

When he gets in the car, he turns the key in the ignition and looks at you, “I’m not mad. I’m-- you’re hurt, you get that? Really badly hurt.”

“I called for help, didn’t I?”

He starts to drive. “Shouldn’t be hunting on your own anymore.”

You don’t say anything. This is an old argument. For a man who spent much of his formative years on his own, learning how to kill anything and everything, he’s so against you doing it.

When you first met him, you thought it was nothing but old school sexism. Women shouldn’t fight alone, the same old bullshit you’ve been putting up with for years. After you got to know him and Sam, you realized it was different - it came from a place of fierce loyalty, of friendship, of protectiveness. He wanted his friends close, even though he put up a front.

Ever since he was four years old and was told to protect his brother, he’s taken that mentality with everyone he’s ever met. Dean Winchester, the protector.

Sam meets you in the garage, hefting you out of the passenger seat before you can get a word out. His face is pinched in worry, and he curses when his hand slips from where it had gripped your waist, slick with blood.

“You’re getting blood all over my jeans,” he comments, trying to keep the mood light.

“I’m real sorry, Sam,” you reply sarcastically, wincing at every step he takes that lurches you in his arms.

On the table, you pass out from the pain.

When you wake, your shoulder and side are throbbing, and there’s two familiar forms slumped in chairs in opposite corners.

“Ow,” you mutter, trying to sit up.

Dean rouses, hearing you struggling, and surges to his feet, hands on your shoulders to keep you steady, careful of the new packed gauze on one side. “Sam got it out,” he says quietly. “You’ll be alright.”

“Nothing wounded but my pride.”

“That’s not funny.” He murmurs, sighing. “You lost a lot of blood.”

You stop his fussing with a hand on his arm. “Dean?”

He exhales hard through his nose.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I didn’t know who else to call. I just make jokes because… I don’t know. Trying to lighten the mood?”

He scowls, but it’s not as fierce. “Yeah, well. Do it when your life isn’t on the line, will you?”

He gives your good shoulder a quick squeeze, so you know he’s not completely pissed, but you still feel a little sheepish. You don’t mean to get yourself into trouble, you really don’t.

And -- maybe he’s right. It’s nice to hunt with other people sometimes. Hurts more when they leave or get killed, though, and you think that’s the root of it. Saving yourself from the potential loss.

You sleep a few more hours and when you wake up, there’s clinking of silverware coming from down the hall. You smell food and your stomach growls. You struggle to get to your feet, and notice idly that you’re wearing a shirt that’s two sizes too large. You remember how torn and bloody your own clothes were when Dean got to you, and have to resist the urge to tug up the neckline and inhale that comforting scent - whatever laundry soap they use and something else unique to Dean.

You make your way to the kitchen slowly. Every step pulls your stitches and you groan when you finally get to the doorframe, leaning against it.

“What are you doing?” Sam demands, “if you rip out those stitches—“

“Sit down.” Dean is on his feet too, pointing at the empty chair.

“I got hungry!”

Sam crosses his arms over his chest, doing his best big brother impression, and you shrink under the weight of his disappointment, sinking into the chair to his left. Slowly. Carefully. You try to tell yourself you’re not in a lot of pain, but you think it’s obvious, even with how you’re trying to pretend everything is normal.

“I would have brought you something.” Dean says, standing and grabbing another plate, starting to pile it up with eggs and sausage and pancakes. They really go all out for breakfast in this household, and you’ve missed it.

Conversation is quiet during breakfast, but you try to lighten the mood here and there, aware of Dean watching you like a hawk everytime you grimace when you move too quickly. Sam stares at you until you eat everything on your plate and drink two glasses of water, and then sends you back to bed with strict instructions to stay there for the next few hours.

“It’s so boring!” You say, not embarrassed about the whine in your voice.

(Okay, maybe a little bit.)

Dean rolls his eyes. “Come on,” he says, turning you around by the elbow and almost marching you from the room. “We’ll play video games or something until you get tired.”

An hour later, you’re on the third game of Mario Kart, and you’re fuming.

“You’re-- you’re cheating!”

“Or,” Dean says, pointing, “consider this -- you just suck.”

“Hey!” You protest, trying not to laugh. “That’s rude. I’m wounded.”

Dean rolls his eyes, but his face goes a little serious. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

He shakes his head. “You’re so damn reckless, you know that?”

“I don’t mean to be.” You look down at your hands, embarrassed for how much you’ve worried the two Winchesters. “I thought I could handle it.”

He sighs. “I don’t mean-- you can handle it. Usually.” He smirks at you. “I care about you,” he says quietly, the confession ringing in the air. “I worry about you when you’re out there alone. You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

You have no idea what to say.

He’s so sincere - the truth of his words and the weight of what he’s saying clear in the expression on his face.

“Dean--”

“Why don’t you just stay here? With us?” He asks, looking hurt. “All the times we’ve offered and you’ve never…” He stops himself, picking at a loose thread on the comforter.

You shrug. You’re not ready to have this conversation with him, though you suppose it’s inevitable. “There’s never really been anywhere I felt safe.”

Dean’s eyes are imploring, so you continue, even though you really don’t want to make yourself this vulnerable.

“I do, though, with you. And that scares me a little.” You shrug, acutely aware of his eyes on you. You feel like he can see right through you, see what you’re not saying. “I feel like I could be safe here, and that’s-- I’ve never had that before.”

Dean leans forward on his knees, hands clasped together. “I used to feel like that,” he confides. “Before we found this place. We never had any place that felt like home. That felt safe.”

You wonder if Dean knows he has this affect on people - that they so desperately want to hear what he has to say, that they want his approval, almost. Validation from Dean means everything. From a man who keeps everything so close to the vest, the fact that he’s letting you see this part of him means everything.

“I don’t want to keep running.” Your words are like a whisper.

“Then stay,” he counters simply, with a shrug. “Stay.”

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

Blame Me- Chapter 4

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Specified gender: Female

Word Count: 11.7K

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader,

TW: canon typical violence, canon divergence, flashback of past character death (OCs), cannibalism, detailed gore, sexual innuendos, suggestion of rape, reference to past child death, torture (dismemberment), Negan being Negan, probably badly written Negan, mention of a broken ankle?

Genre: Horror ig?

Series: Blame Me

Requests: CLOSED

Masterlist

A/N: Yeah, like I warned last chapter, I got a little carried away with this chapter. Negan is so fucking hard to write, so warning you for that as well. I loved this chapter though. And, uh, a lot of trigger warnings. Enjoy!

(Y/N) sighed, looking into her bag. Her supplies were running dangerously low - only two cans and half a water bottle, not to mention the nonexistent ammo. She wouldn't be able to stay out here much longer. But paranoia crept into her, as it had done regularly since that night, and kept her in place. Trusting people was damn near impossible. Being in a group, in a community, a camp? It was terrifying. Unless she was truly desperate, and only then, would there be the smallest slither of a chance of it happening. Maybe she would be better just moving on. Staying alone. She was safer alone.

"Don't be stupid, woman, ya barely standin'." She could practically hear Daryl's voice in her ear, and her head snapped to the side just to check. But she was met with empty, open-air, and her heart sank a little bit, despite knowing he wasn't there. (Y/N) let out a huff, a mix of frustration and sadness, and looked back to the clearing in the bushes where she was watching Terminus. Goddamn it, even when he wasn't there, he was always right. She was going to get herself killed. There was a herd on the way, so it wouldn't hurt to stay a couple days right? Restock, sleep, and then get on the road again before the herd hit. They'd destroy that place anyway.

(Y/N) watched with hardened eyes as the fencing was pulled open, fixed on the men behind it. He had a smile on his face and open hands but his eyes gave him away. There was something menacing behind them. She wasn't sure she wanted to find out what that was. Just a few days.

"Hello there! My name is Gareth, I'm kind of the leader around here. Welcome to Terminus," Gareth greeted, striding forward, much quicker than (Y/N) had liked. She stepped back in response, narrowing her eyes cautiously.

"(Y/N)," She responded after a long pause. Hell, the longer she spent alone, the more she was sounding like her husband. Gareth's eyes flittered to her dirty, bloodied face; to the gun, she held in a vice-like grip; to her furrowed eyebrows; to the way she swayed lightly in exhaustion.

"Well, we're glad to have you. Before you come in, though, I need you to put your weapons on the ground. All of them. Just so we have no surprises," He replied. (Y/N) glanced down to the gun, still with the safety off and hesitated. Gareth waited patiently, much to her odd annoyance. Eventually, she gave a small nod, watching as relief flooded his features. There was something off about him. What was he hiding? She didn't trust him. Not that that meant much anymore. Down the gun went, along with the knife from her belt, still covered in walker blood, and the small handgun she kept clipped to her bag. Gareth came towards her, slowly this time, like someone approaching a scared pet. "I'm just going to pat you down now. Just our policy."

Much to (Y/N)'s relief, he kept professional as he patted along her arms, down her torso and legs and back up again. He was giving her that fake gentle smile. That only made her stiffen and the leader was quick to back off when he was done. He was trying to earn her trust. A nagging voice in the back of her head kept asking why what was he up to? (Y/N) tried to shake the suspicion as she bent down to pick her weapons back up.

"C'mon in," Gareth gestured to the gate and despite her unease, she allowed him to take her through to a small courtyard. There were a few people, maybe ten or so. Some of them were sat down on tables and little booths that were dotted around, and two people were stood next to a barbecue, where there was a blonde woman stood behind cooking. The closer they got, the stronger the smell wafting through the air did, and it made her stomach twist in a knot. She knew that smell. Why did she know that smell? The lady shot (Y/N) a warm smile as she offered her a plate of whatever it was she was cooking. But she only stared at it, a look of scepticism and partial disgust and the Terminus people exchanged a glance. Finally, the lady shrugged and handed the plate to a guy who'd come to stand behind the survivor. "You really find it hard to trust people don't you?"

"I'll be here for a day or two. I just need to rest," (Y/N) cut in sharply, readjusting the bag on her back, leaving a hand on the strap for grounding. Gareth shook his head slightly and placed his hand on his hips.

"Right this way," He breathed, growing increasingly vexed with the newcomer's dismissal. This time, she was led to what looked like a canteen, made out of an old factory (maybe? It was hard to tell), and this time she let herself sit down on a bench that had been shoved against the wall. Her bag was placed on the floor between her feet, never letting it get too far. The three pictures and a random bobby pin that she had no idea how it got there, that were folded in her back pocket were stabbing into her ass through her jeans but she didn't move. If she was going to get stolen from again, she would happily lose everything as long as she could keep those three photos. Gareth disappeared into a back room and she let her gaze slide around the room. It was barren but looked like it had been untouched by the dead. A few minutes stretched by and her knee began to bounce nervously, before he returned, holding a can of sweetcorn, top already taken off, and a glass of water. He handed it to her, and hesitantly she took it. Hell, she was starving.

(Y/N) dug in a second later, ravenous, and it would long before the can was empty. The leader was babbling on about the community and rules and all that bullshit. By god, that man could talk. She'd zoned out by now, more focused on getting fed and hydrated. She took a gulp from the glass, nearly emptying, and putting on an expression that made it seem like she was listening. Slowly, however, his words started to fade in and out, muffling and blending together. Her head felt light, and she felt like she could barely hold herself up. She felt so damn heavy. Her body fell to the side, lying on the bench. Gareth knelt down in front of her. There it was. Through her dotted vision, she could see the dark grin on his face, and a shiver ran down her spine. He'd put something in her food and water. That motherfucker.

"What the hell did-" (Y/N) started. She could hardly recognise her own voice. It was slurred and quiet, but still filled with the anger she'd hoped for. Well, if she was gonna die, he wanted her to know she was pissed about it. Gareth just stared her down, and eventually, she surrendered to the black dots. For Fuck's sake.

The faint noise of hushed chatter made (Y/N) lift her head from the floor. Shit that was a mistake. She scrunched her eyes back shut, trying to relieve her pounding headache. Slowly, she let herself open her eyes again, only to be met by the same darkness, bar a slither of light coming from under, what she assumed to be, a door. Everything fucking hurt, but she still pushed herself up, shuffling until she met a wall, to get grounding. The room couldn't have been very big, a storeroom or something? Well, at the very least, she knew she could trust her instincts. She saw something suspicious in Gareth and the motherfucker had drugged her. Asshole. The next question was, why the fuck had he drugged her? As if the people outside could read her mind, the door slammed open, flooding the room in sunlight, which made (Y/N) shut her eyes. Fuck that headache was killing her. Whoever had opened the door gripped her arm, jerking her out of the room across the rough ground and tearing her skin slightly. That was gonna sting later. She moved to fight back but found her wrists tied by course rope. How hadn't she noticed that? Probably the headache, damn it. When her eyes adjusted, they raised to glare at the person. Gareth. Of fucking course.

"Hey asshole," She quipped, giving him a sarcastic smile and he smiled, though there was no kindness in it. She heard him mumble something about being a smart ass before he lifted a bit of cloth from around her neck (when had that gotten there? Stupid drug side effects) she was tugged to her feet and shoved forward. (Y/N) had no idea where she was going, but the faces of the Terminus people read glad and... hungry? They had plenty of food in that pantry, more than (Y/n) had seen in a long time, why would they be hungry?

It wasn't long before her surroundings became gloomy and darkened as Gareth took her into another old looking warehouse. The corridor opened up to a large room, with different kinds of tools littering the walls and various tools, along with a long trough in the centre of the room. Oh fuck, oh no. Oh no no no. She'd been hunting with Daryl and Merle enough times to know exactly what this fucking meant. She was NOT going out like this, no fucking way. And definitely not without a damn fight She squirmed in his grip, launching her leg backwards to try and kick him, but Gareth managed to jump back just in time. He twisted her arm slightly in return and she released a grunt of pain, but didn't let up, turning, bending, kicking, just moving as much as she possibly could, shouting out, trying to backpedal. Anything to get away from that trough. There were two guys in the corner, bouncing on their heels and shuffling, clearly waiting for Gareth to ask them to step in.

"Stop, fucking stop," Gareth growled in her ear, pushing her forward even more, despite her struggling. She was getting closer, and closer and closer and she was running out of options. This was gonna hurt like a bitch. Better than getting eaten. With a deep breath, she threw her head back, smashing into his nose. Shit, shit, shit she was right that fucking hurt. Instinctively, he let go, swearing violently and she made a mad dash for the door. The likelihood of her actually getting anywhere, especially with tied hands and goons around every corner but hell if they thought she was gonna just lay down and let them kill her, they were wrong. She raced back down the route Gareth had just taken her, and she soon heard three sets of footsteps behind her. She managed to get outside, back to the courtyard she'd been in hours (maybe? she didn't really know how long she was out) earlier, before one of the men who'd been in the slaughter room tackled her to the floor. Well, there went another layer of her skin on the ground. Ow. Over the slight ringing in her ears (Y/N) could hear slightly panicked muttering from the small crowd in the courtyard. Gareth came over seconds later, towering over her, and she grinned at him upon seeing his bloodied nose and the drips of blood on the collar of his shirt. He gripped her shirt harshly and pulled her up and hurriedly pushed her towards the small storeroom she'd been in minutes earlier.

"What? Don't have the balls to try and kill me again?" She asked through the gag, which Gareth pulled down before shoving her down to the floor. He stood in the doorway, glaring down at her with a wild look in his eye. He crouched in front of her, and despite the fear snaking into her, she kept his gaze, smirking slightly.

"Oh, don't worry, we'll kill you. But, you see, we have some newcomers, who we've yet to break the news of how things work here. We don't need you scaring them off. You can stay here for a few days, let things calm down and then..." He trailed off and ran a finger along her cheek. (Y/N) moved her head away, sneering at him.

"And what happens if your new people don't agree with the way you run things? I mean, eating people? You're not that different from the snarlers," She asked, her voice slightly hoarse, but still full of venom. There was that flash of amusement on his face and he leant forward, right in her face. She narrowed her eyes, resisting the urge to smash her head into his nose again. That headache was still hammering behind her eyes and Jesus, it still hurt.

"If they don't agree, you can have some buddies joining you, and you can help the rest of us out," Okay that was just a weirdly cryptic way of saying they'd get eaten too. The leader was still too close for comfort, and she just looked at him, before spitting and narrowly missing his eyes. He snarled and stood up before slamming the door shut behind him and flooding the room with semi-darkness. Fantastic.

The only way (Y/N) was measuring time was the light underneath the door. It'd been around three days, and her arms had started cramping just hours after Gareth had shoved her back in that shithole. Thankfully, around halfway through day two, someone had come and untied her, only so she could eat, but her arms still felt tender. They fed her, and while most of it had expired, it was more than she'd eaten in weeks, and it made her the strongest she'd been in a while. The smell of her own vomit had made her nose numb, and honestly, she couldn't wait to get out even if it meant her becoming dinner. In the darkness and mostly silent room, she had nothing to do, other than getting lost in her thoughts. It was the only thing stopping her from going crazy.

"You're telling me that Merle got you this?" (Y/N) asked, about three years younger, looking back to an also younger Daryl. The pair were stepping through dead leaves, and moving past bushes. He looked over, moving his significantly shorter hair off his forehead.

"Ya really surprised by that?" He questioned, raising his eyebrows. He felt naked without his crossbow, but his girl was holding it tightly, he knew it was in good hands. She laughed quietly, as he led them to the makeshift target range he'd set up the day before.

"Don't really know why I'm surprised by it," She replied, moving slightly closer, and looking down at the crossbow. Her eyes were bright and full of excitement. (Y/N) had been begging her boyfriend for months to teach her to use the crossbow, or at the very least hunting. Not because she was actually particularly interested in it, but because it was such a big part of his and Merle's life. And when Daryl had learnt that, he damn near melted. Stupid, affectionate woman, she remembered him saying, despite the faint blush on his face. "Y'know my mom's been pestering me about getting you to teach her how to use this thing as soon as she found out you used a crossbow."

Daryl glanced over to her, his lips twitched upwards and shook his head. Her mom, Lily, was so sweet on him, and he wasn't quite sure why. However, it was clear that she hadn't been swayed by Merle yet. Couldn't exactly blame her though. His brother was an asshole at the best of times.

"She still movin' to South Carolina?" (Y/N) and Daryl kept walking, but he used a hand on her back to direct her more to the left. She nodded with a small grin but didn't say anything. They walked in comfortable silence, occasionally sneaking glances when the other wasn't looking before they reached their destination. There were various little targets, ranging between small empty bottles and bags full of rice or hay. Daryl took her into a small box on the floor made out of twigs so that there were bigger targets closer to her and smaller targets further away. He started explaining how to pull the string back to the latch, showing her and then letting her do it herself.

(Y/N) brought the crossbow up to rest near her shoulder, closing one eye to look down the arrow track as Daryl had instructed her.

"Merle ever show ya how to use a rifle?" Daryl inquired. He was stood right behind her, so her back was nearly pressed to his chest, and his head was hovering over her other shoulder.

"Would it be Merle if he hadn't?" (Y/N) shot back with a playful smirk and he just chuckled, reaching around and adjusting her grip on the crossbow. He placed his hands over hers, and he could already tell she'd be teasing him about it later, especially if she saw him blushing. Well, if she saw him, he could shoot back that she was blushing too. Win-win, he supposed

"Ya don't damn act like it. Y'ain't even holdin' it right," Daryl returned, but it was light and he wouldn't deny the grin on his face if she said anything. (Y/N) tightened her grip, finding comfort in his hands over hers, keeping her eye on the arrow track. "Now, ya gotta line up the bolt and the arrow track, and when ya think ya got it, ya pull the trigger."

(Y/N) couldn't deny how at home he seemed out there, in the wilderness, with his crossbow. He was content, as content as a Dixon could be at one time, and the way he hovered around her made her fight back a smile. The asshole was just adorable and he didn't realise it.

He watched as her eyebrows scrunched more in concentration, and he felt himself soften when she stuck her tongue out slightly. Fucking hell, she was gonna make his mean redneck facade crack. Not like it mattered, there wasn't anyone around.

With a deep breath, (Y/N) lined up the arrow track with one of the rice-filled bags closer to the box, and pulled the trigger. The bolt went flying out, and the string lurched forward, making her jump and Daryl let out a loud laugh at the movement. The bolt stabbed into the floor right beside the bag and she let out a huff.

"That's pretty good for a first try. I want ya to try and hit one of the bottles. Don't matter if ya miss," He said, short hair sticking to his forehead in the Georgia heat while he moved from behind her to go and retrieve the bolt. As he was getting the bolt, (Y/N) pulled the string back, so when he returned she slid the bolt along the arrow track. She stood back up, and Daryl returned to his place behind her. A few seconds later, the bolt whistled through the air, and once again narrowly missed the bottle. But she felt pride blooming in her chest. It was further away, after all! She turned to her boyfriend with an excited grin, happiness seeping from her and Daryl couldn't help but smile back at her.

They continued like this for a few hours, until (Y/N) arms started to hurt from holding the crossbow up, and they started heading back. She was trailing ahead of Daryl, back in that comfortable, and very frequent, silence. He had to admit, she was pretty damn good. Her aim wasn't bad and after some practice, she'd probably be as good as him. But the excitement she'd had even when she'd missed the targets, her grin every time she got a little bit closer, made his heart feel full. If he hadn't been certain before, he definitely was now. She was it for him. He was gonna marry her someday, even if it wasn't his thing. He was gonna be with her.

The ground-shaking below her feet and an ear-splitting explosion, as well as a faint flash of bright light under the door, knocked her to her side and pushed her from her reminiscing. What the fuck? Silence stretched for a minute before panic started, and footsteps raced past the door. (Y/N) pressed herself against the door, and a second bang went off, close enough to knock some debris into her door, and send it shooting open and slamming her back. She groaned, using the wall to stand up, but she shot behind the door when she heard the all too familiar noise of snarlers. A lone snarler stumbled past her door, and she banged her hand against the wall, just quiet enough for it to only lure the one. It paused and growled, turning into the room. (Y/N) slowly bent down and picked up the bit of debris from the floor, before stepping out and slamming the debris into the snarlers head before it had time to see her. There were more coming, the explosion would have lured them for miles and miles. She had to think fast, but with only the sharp bit of debris, that would definitely break soon, she didn't have many options. Fuck. She was gonna have to cut the snarler open. Great.

With a small shiver, and a pause much longer than she probably should have risked with the oncoming storm of snarlers, she lifted the snarlers ripped shirt and brought the debris down into its stomach. Resisting the urge to vomit (god she'd never get used to that smell), she pressed on until the debris snapped and she started pulling out guts. A disgusted noise escaped her as she started spreading the guts all over her body, along her arms and legs, and, unfortunately, her face too. (Y/N) couldn't resist a shudder as the smell got caught in her nose. Jesus, she couldn't wait to find a creek or a river already and wash this shit off. At least she could go out with the snarlers now, and maybe find a weapon, and maybe her stuff. Not that she had much worth saving. She had her pictures and right now, she was just grateful for that. After giving her lungs a much-needed breath of fresh air, she walked into the sunlight, squinting in the sun, at a snail-like pace. Blend in, please for the love of fuck, please blend in. (Y/N) turned a corner, and she couldn't stop herself from hesitated. Terminus was flooded. There was no fucking chance of her getting her stuff back. She had to get out. Gunshots were filling the air, doing nothing to deter the snarlers.

However, while the snarlers hadn't noticed her, someone from Terminus clearly had. A ginger woman surged forward towards her, knife in hand. Perfect. She immediately stretched her arm out to slash at her face, but (Y/N) managed to duck under her arm and grab it, but the woman twisted and pressed it forward. It inched closer and closer to her face, and a bit too close to her eye, and (Y/N) used the grip she had on her wrist to push it back. Apparently, their strengths were matched, since they didn't move for a second. She grunted lightly, before glancing down. While she was defending her face, this woman had left her legs undefended, and she smiled at her before kicking her knee, hard. The woman went down with a cry of pain, clutching her knee and allowing the knife to clatter to the floor and (Y/N) didn't hesitate to pick it up and stab it into the woman's temple. She let out a sigh, leaning on her thighs for a minute. Christ being locked in a tiny room for a few days and launching into the fight right after wasn't a good idea. The snarlers were getting closer, and (Y/N) plucked the gun from the woman's holster and walked forward, allowing herself to fall into the herd.

She was trying to follow the herd's direction while also looking for an exit. There was a lot of shouting and gunshots and screaming surrounding her, not to mention the groaning and growling of the snarlers, and it was getting harder and harder to decipher which direction any of it was coming from. Her eyes skimmed her surroundings. There had to be an exit somewhere. Right as she thought that, she noticed a gap in the fence, like someone, had torn through it and she started trying to move towards it, as much as she could without alerting the snarlers. Despite the loud noises surrounding her, one noise that was getting easier and easier to pick out were gunshots that were getting closer and closer and the herd getting shoved into two, like a twisted version of Moses splitting the sea. A group of maybe 12-14 people were sprinting through, moving too fast for her to really see them properly, shooting and slashing as they approached the fence. (Y/N) continued on in the herd, hoping she wouldn't get caught in their rampage. It wasn't until one of them got grabbed, a little boy, and was getting pulled forward by a snarler. Some cowboy looking guy froze in his tracks, probably his dad. But he wouldn't get there in time, she knew that. And she wasn't going to have another Anna. Not again. She rushed forward, raising her gun and shooting the snarler right between its eyes. The little boy stared up at her, fear and shock still present in his eyes and her eye softened, before the father came running up. The father pulled him away immediately and stared her down like she hadn't just saved his son's life. She narrowed her eyes and yelled "go!" and thankfully, they didn't hesitate in following her instructions. But now, the snarlers knew she wasn't one of them. She had to make a break for that gap. This would be fun.

(Y/N) felt dead on her feet. She'd been walking for days, and while she was sure it was gonna kill her eventually, every day she was closer and closer to Washington. Maybe another one or two days and she'd be there. Her supplies were running short again, not that she'd found many after Terminus. Most places had been picked clean by now. There had to be something in Washington. There had to be. And while the realist part of her knew she shouldn't get her hopes up, another part of her was really hoping that Daryl would have made his way North, and be there, with his weird attachment to his crossbow, and his much too short hair, and following behind her louder than life brother-in-law, and the fiddling of his wedding band whenever he was nervous, or angry, or even just lost in thought. She hadn't really let herself think about him much since the world had gone to shit, apart from in Terminus, and it made her heart hurt. He could be dead. He could have died months ago and she was just holding out false hope. Merle could be dead.

That only reminded her of why she hadn't let herself think of her family much. (Y/N) shook her head and focused on the woods surrounding her. There was a map tucked into the side of the worn backpack she'd found two nights ago, and there were a knife and a gun strapped around her waist. Like the rest of her resources, she was running low on bullets. Maybe ten or eleven bullets left. Knife work had become common practice unless she'd gotten caught in a tight spot, which thankfully hadn't been often. But with each day and the lack of supplies, she was getting weak again, and she knew if there was nothing in Washington, she would probably die. And it was fucking terrifying. She was just thanking whatever god, or lack of, was up there that her husband had taught her to track and to navigate the woods.

Nightfall was nearing, and (Y/N) had managed to find the ruins of an old gas station. If there'd been more choice, she would have found somewhere else. It was too similar to where she'd stayed with her group near the beginning. With Kai, her mom, Andrew... But there was nowhere else, and it was safe enough, so it would have to do. It beat sleeping in a tree again. Seriously, sleeping in trees was going to destroy her back. After clearing the gas station, and trying to barricade the doors as much as possible, she opened the latch of the room, closing it behind her, and climbed onto the roof. She placed her bag down on the roof, and hesitantly lay down, using her bag as a pillow, keeping her knife and gun close. Nowadays, as it had been further proved by Terminus, it wasn't just the dead she had to worry about. After a lot of tossing, turning, rumbling of her stomach and worrying, her body finally shut down, and she let herself sleep.

Dawn was barely breaking when she was woken by the sound of brakes squealing. Fuck. People weren't something that reassured her. Not anymore By instinct, the sleep was shaken from her body and the grogginess was non-existent as she crawled back to the latch, panic starting to rise in her chest.

"You're sure it was here you saw someone from Hilltop? Boss is coming to check it out himself," An unfamiliar, and much too loud considering how many walkers were around. The door of their vehicle was slammed shut.

" I saw 'em last night. Just the one, killed a couple dead fucks and barricaded the doors. Looked tired, sick, think they ran away from Hilltop or something," Another voice replied. Oh fuck. This guy had seen her. He had to know where she was. She was gonna have to have a mad dash for freedom. Carefully, she opened the latch, making sure to drop into a crouch when she got back into the store and tiptoed towards the backroom where the least barricaded door was, only made of a relatively flimsy. metal shelf Last night, she'd been too exhausted to barricade it properly, which now she looked back was unbelievably stupid, however it was also potentially saving her life now. The two voices continued as they got closer to the storefront, and (Y/N) used the little strength she had to push the barricade out of the way and opened the door. However in her rush to escape, she hadn't noticed the bit of broken metal jutting out of the shelf, so as she pushed her body against it, it torn through the side of her leg. Red seeped down her leg, making a small pool on the floor quickly. (Y/N), you fucking idiot.

"Fuck!" She whispered. Fucking hell that hurt! She moved to try and apply pressure but the sound of glass smashing in the front of the store made her freeze. She didn't have time to stop, she had to get out of here, even if it killed her. Something about the way these people talked alone felt off. Honestly, she wasn't sure if it wasn't just her paranoia at this point, but after Terminus and that night at the camp, she wouldn't risk it. Just as she limped outside, she heard another squeal and she could only assume another vehicle had pulled up. Her bag, her body, everything felt heavy as she stumbled forward and back into the woods. She wasn't getting far, but if she could get just far enough that she could hide, maybe she'd be okay. Knowing her luck, it wasn't damn likely. (Y/N) couldn't help but be hyper-aware of the blood trail she had to be leaving behind. She managed to get a fair distance before the pain searing up her leg stopped her, and she hid inside a bush. She didn't have any other options. She heard swearing and shouting, and some snarlers getting taken down and eventually, two men came barging out the partially open back door. One of them was holding a rifle, up and ready to shoot and the other one had a revolver. Both of them looked like the perfect example of someone who could ruin (Y/N)'s day.

They were looking around, still on guard, and it was clear they were looking for snarlers until she saw a new guy on the roof where she'd been just minutes ago and called down that she wasn't there. Well hell, they were definitely looking for her now. One hand was clutching her leg, desperately trying to stop the bleeding as much as possible so she didn't bleed out, while the other gripped her gun tightly, ready to fight if she had to. She had to bite her lip to stop her from crying out as she applied more and more pressure. It wasn't deep enough to have hit a vein, and she knew if she'd hit an artery she would already be dead and eating these fuckers, but it was deep enough to not stop bleeding with a little bit of pressure. Upon hearing that (Y/N) wasn't on the roof they cursed, and pressed further on and unluckily, nearer to her bush. Rifle guy whispered to revolver guy and revolver guy went back around the building towards where she assumed the vehicles were. Maybe he was going for the boss? She watched carefully, before letting her gaze fall back to her leg, applying more pressure and she was starting to taste something metallic in her mouth as well as she bit her lip harder. Apparently, that split second was all it took for the rifle guy to creep forward right in front of her bush. It made her think that they'd known where she was all along.

There was the end of a rifle right in her face when she looked up and she couldn't stop the alarm from spilling into her eyes as they met his. This guy had a smirk on his face, looking very accomplished. The living didn't want to give him a fucking break, did they? Knowing her chances against a rifle were disadvantaged, she stood up slowly from her hiding, wincing as she put a little pressure on her leg. The barrel followed her as she rose, even as she stumbled slightly on her injured leg. The pair stared at each other in a moment of tense silence, and she tried her hardest not to let her internal panic spread to the outside, and (Y/N) scowled at him, eyes sharp and narrowed. What she was about to do was the dumbest plan she'd ever had, but with a fucked up leg and nothing to patch her up, none of her options was looking particularly great. So, she quickly raised her gun and fired, so soon he only just reacted. The bullet skimmed his head, tearing a bit of skin from the side of it, and he tackled her, his rifle falling out of either of their reach, but not before catching her face and leaving a nick on her forehead. A cry, borderline scream, escaped her as his knee fell onto her wound, but she gritted her teeth and stretched to his belt where a knife was protruding. He pulled back, but she'd just managed to grab it and turned them around so she was straddling him awkwardly, her injured leg at an angle to avoid any pressure.

(Y/N) raised the knife to stab it down into his head, seeing an angry but smug expression on his face. She couldn't help but wonder how the fuck someone in his situation could be smug, but her question was answered by the clicking of four or five, as far as she could tell, guns.

"I'd drop that if I were you," Rifle guy smirked from underneath her, and she glared but reluctantly released the knife and let it drop. He shoved her off and she let out a grunt of pain. Shit that leg was going to get infected. Her gaze raised to look at the semi-circle of men around her, along with one woman, with dark-haired and bleached tips pulled into a bun and a deadly look in her eyes. The rifle guy stood up and picked up his rifle and joined his people. A slight glimmer in the corner of her eye in the dawn sun made her look up, and there he stood in dead centre. He clutched a barbed wire wrapped bat, a glove on the hand holding it, and she had to admire his weapon. It was pretty damn cool. Baseball bat guy was wearing a white shirt, super impractical for the apocalypse she couldn't stop herself thinking, with a leather jacket on top. His hair was dark, but greying along the sides and in his scruff. And he was grinning, and while there was no malice in it, it didn't make her feel at ease by any means. If anything, it made her squirm more. His eyes raked down her body and suddenly she felt small. He was a predator, and she was the prey. Oh fuck. He whistled, almost akin to that of a wolf whistle.

"God damn lady! If that didn't make my pants tight I don't, know what will! Adam, you should be ashamed. She nearly killed you, and she was fucking injured!" Baseball guy grinned, stepping forward swinging the bat slightly. (Y/N) didn't say a word, just glared at him and she saw entertainment dancing behind his eyes. He crouched in front of her. She was starting to get really sick of egotistical men who had a little bit of power over her crouching in front of her. Fucking condescending assholes. His eyes dragged down to her wound, and he pressed two fingers to it, making her hiss.

"Go to hell," She growled, leaning towards his face. If only to prove she wasn't intimidated despite the terror in her lungs. He let out a loud laugh. But unlike the murderers at camp or Gareth, it wasn't fake or dark. It was a genuine laugh. Somehow that worried her more.

"Is that any way to talk to your saviour?" He asked with a cockiness that made her skin crawl. Her glare deepened, and he removed his hand from her wound. He wiped his bloody hand on his jeans, before using it to grip her chin. She had to resist the urge to pull her face away. This guy was more dangerous than the other asshole men she'd met. He was calm but dangerous. Like a landmine that hasn't yet gone off. One wrong move and he'd explode. After a second her eyebrows raised in question. "If I hadn't come, you would have killed Adam, not that I could blame you," He leant forward to her ear whispering the next part "He's made moves on some of my wives before. You'd be doing me a favour. However, my loyal crew here would have had to kill you. But I sent my crew and stopped you, so you get to live. You should thank me."

With that last sentence, she was suddenly back nearly two years in front of a dim campfire, with Andrew and her mom at her side. Kai's body, wide-eyed and still bleeding, was slumped in front of her, her mom's throat was slashed and she was gurgling, trying her hardest to cry out. Andrew was beside her, the ghost of a triumphant grin on his face and a bullet between his eyes.

"Really you should be thanking us."

Baseball guy was watching her with a wide grin, as she came back to reality. She was trembling, and tears were building in the corner of her eyes. God damn it.

"Should have a stony as shit lady like you had met some fucked up people. The way I see it, you're in my debt," He heaved himself up with a deep sigh, still holding the barbed wire bat, which he placed beneath her chin, the spikes cutting and pricking her skin lightly. He clicked his tongue and his eyebrows flashed up quickly. "Hell, woman, you gotta stop giving me that look. Makes me wanna take you back home and fuck you six ways to Sunday."

It took every fibre in her body to stop her from shuddering, and she already knew that when the adrenaline ran out she would be having some form of breakdown. That would be fun

"But, we can discuss that later," He said with a wink "As I was saying, you're in my debt, and you have two ways to pay it off."

"Which are?" She ground out, pressing harder on her wound. Oh, she was definitely going to pass out from blood loss soon. She was already starting to feel woozy.

"See fellas! This is what I mean when I say I want direct! Goddamn, I can tell you are gonna fit right in!" (Y/N)'s unamused look made Baseball guy laugh heartily before continuing on "You can either join us, work for me, we break you down and you become my soldier. Maybe if I'm lucky I can convince you to become a lovely wife for me," He shot her a wink and words of rejection were already building on her tongue "Or, we kill you. Right here and now and leave you for the dead fucks."

Well. She probably should have seen that coming. Men like him wanted few things, and they usually fell along the same lines. From the way he spoke, while he was brash, vulgar and clearly larger than life, he seemed to have a vague, fucked up, set of morals. While he'd talked about fucking her, he'd never suggested forcing it upon her. But she could never be too careful. (Y/N) knew if she tried to run, she wouldn't get anywhere and they'd kill her anyway. Maybe if she went with them, they would patch her up, she'd work there for a while and make an escape. Maybe this guy was just an asshole and his community wasn't bad. From the look of his crew, not likely. Once again, she had limited options. She was getting sick of being in these situations. Baseball guy was watching her, glee in his eyes. However, he was growing impatient, and she could tell when he pushed the barbed wire slightly more into her chin, tearing into her skin, that she knew she had to give him an answer. (Y/N) wasn't stupid enough to deny she was scared. If she wasn't full of so much adrenaline, she would probably be paralysed by it. But she looked up at him, as much as she could with the barbed wire pricking her chin and met his eyes.

"I'll join you."

Being in that room felt too much like Terminus. If it hadn't been for the stitches in her leg, her brain could have tricked her into thinking she was there. It was silent, more so than Terminus. At Terminus, she could at least hear people in the courtyard and walking past the door. She could keep track of time through the sunlight under the door. Here, there was nothing. No light. No noise. Nothing. She didn't know how long she'd been there. They fed her, and at least here the food wasn't expired and once in a while (once a day maybe?) some guy in a scientist coat came in to check and change her bandages. The doctor had told her that Baseball guy was called Negan, but everyone was Negan, which made no fucking sense but she was sure it would in time, and they were in 'The Sanctuary'. Narcissistic bastard. (Y/N) had a strong suspicion that he wasn't supposed to be telling her by the hushed voice he used, but she didn't reject the information. It was the most someone had talked to her in days (hours? Who fucking knew anymore). There had been six doctors visits, so maybe six days if she was right about the time frame, until they pulled her out.

Danica was still storming ahead, but Ben had fallen back to walk beside (Y/N) and Lily, who had an arm around her daughter as she worked through the shock.

"Thank you for saving our asses back there," (Y/N) mumbled quietly and Ben looked to her with a small smile. He shrugged, and turned back to his sister, keeping a careful eye on her. She was pissed, and she got reckless when she was pissed.

"Don't worry about it. Maybe you can save my ass in the future as payback," He quipped lightly, and a small giggle escaped Lily. They were deep in the woods by now, and the dim flashlights Danica and Ben were holding were the only things stopping them from being completely blind. (Y/N) smiled at him. He seemed sweet, unlike his bitchy companion.

"Maybe," She responded faintly. Milky white eyes kept flashing in front of her, guts spilling from a stomach and she shook her head viciously to remove the image. Ben's face suddenly fell, and his eyebrows furrowed as he began running towards Danica. Lily and (Y/N) followed soon after as soon as they saw Danica holding someone at gunpoint. There were four of them, one of them stood in front, wearing a military-style uniform, holding a gun and a military-grade backpack on their back. Two of them stood in front of a little girl, no older than 6 or 7. One of them had short ginger hair with thick eyebrows, looking stony and glaring at Danica. The other kept his hand hovering near the ginger guy and the other hand in front of the kid. He had long, shoulder-length green hair that was starting to fade. (Y/N) rushed to Danica's side, narrowing her eyes at the strangers.

"Hey, hey, hey, look we don't want no trouble. Just wanna get down ta Georgia," The military one said, attempting to defuse the situation, placing the gun down on the floor.

"We have a kid for fuck's sake," The ginger one snapped and (Y/N) looked to Danica. When she didn't move to put the gun away, she put a hand on her arm to get her to lower it. Danica glared daggers at her but hesitantly lowered the gun. The little kid was looking scared, but she had these big green eyes. (Y/N) was never one for kids, she and Daryl had had that discussion before, but she was cute, and she could see herself getting attached to her.

"Hey, alright, it's okay. We just had a tough time, we're all a little on edge. I'm (Y/N) Dixon, this is my mom, Lily, and these two are Danica and Ben," (Y/N) introduced trying to give them a reassuring smile. The tension in the green-haired guy's shoulders deflated slightly and the little girl moved forward a little.

"I'm Kai Thompson," The military one smiled, picking their gun back up and shoving it in their holster. "This is Andrew and Oliver Stewart, and their daughter Anna."

Lily crouched down in front of Anna giving her a little grin, as she moved from behind her dads. She extended a hand to the little girl who took it reluctantly. Her dads were watching carefully, still not trusting her entirely.

"Heya Anna, I'm Lily," She said softly, shaking her hand gently. (Y/N) folded her arms slowly, giving the group a once over, and she noticed how Ben kept his hand over his knife.

"Where y'all headed?" Kai asked, and (Y/N) could pick out that strong Georgia drawl anywhere. It only made her think of Daryl and Merle, out in the middle of nowhere, possibly dead by now. She had to get home.

"Down to Georgia, you?" Ben replied, raising his eyebrows. (Y/N) could feel eyes burning into the back of her head and it didn't take a genius to figure out it was Danica.

"Us too. Meant to be a safe zone in Atlanta," Kai answered, finally dragging their eyes away from Danica. There was a look of budding trust in their eyes, and (Y/N) could tell that they were going to keep each other safe.

When the door creaked open, (Y/N) squinted at the artificial light that flooded the room. Oh, this was way too much like Terminus. A deep chuckle made it abundantly clear about who was standing in the doorway, despite her current lack of sight. As her eyes adapted, she saw him extending a hand to her to help her up.

"C'mon gorgeous, think you've spent enough time in this shithole. Much too disgusting for a lady like you," Negan smirked, and she glared back at him but took his hand. He helped her to her feet, catching her as she toppled slightly on her bad leg. She could tell he was resisting the urge to make a shitty joke about 'falling for him' and she was glad he didn't say it. If he had, she probably would have hit him and sealed her fate as dead.

"Where are we going?" (Y/N)'s throat felt like acid, as she limped beside him. He was leading her back through the corridors deep in the Sanctuary and upstairs, which took her much longer than she'd hoped. Despite how long it took her, Negan didn't lose his patience this and with him still clutching that damn bat, that she'd learnt he called Lucille, she had to be grateful. He was even helping her when he could. However, after being alone for so long, she hated herself for relying on someone else, especially someone like him.

"You've got a big test, beautiful. Gotta make sure you belong here. And I really hope you do, because I wanna pound into you at least once even if you won't marry me," Negan grinned and part of her wished she were still in that cage. Sure, she was convinced she was going crazy in there, but at least she was away from his uncouth comments.

"Not interested," (Y/N) shot back, almost immediately, narrowing her eyes. That only made Negan laugh again, helping her up a small set of stairs.

"Well, that's a damn shame. Never say never though, princess. I'm sure I can convince you," Did he ever stop talking? She knew he was trying to get under her skin, and unfortunately, he was succeeding.

"You've got other wives, fuck them instead," She snapped, sarcastically. Shit, her smart mouth was going to get her killed someday. Pick your damn battles (Y/N).

"Just cause I've got wives doesn't mean I can't mess around some, right darling?" He returned. That cocky grin didn't fall from his face, but there was danger hiding in his eyes. Stop pushing, stop pushing.

"Clearly we have different definitions of marriage," With her response, Negan's eyes darted to her ring finger and he chuckled humourlessly when he saw the silver band. Well, she had just shown her hand. Good fucking job.

"Married, huh? What a shame. Always the hottest ones that are taken. He still out there?" He asked, voice light with glee but she looked away, glaring and biting her tongue. To (Y/N)'s relief, he dropped the subject as they reached a huge room, once again looking a bit too similar to the empty warehouses of Terminus.

Negan removed his hand from hers and moved her to be leant against the metal railing. Below them most if not all of the Saviours were gathered, looking scared and confused, and there was a guy tied to a chair in the dead centre of the group. (Y/N) managed to pick out a small huddle of women, all wearing strappy black dresses and tall heels. His wives. The thought made her squeamish as she looked at the discomfort on their faces. All of a sudden, he slammed Lucille on the metal railing beside her, making her jump out of her skin. He placed a hand on her back, but she limped to the side, just out of his reach. She didn't want his filthy hands on her. Everyone's heads shot up, and they fell to one knew. What kind of cult-level shit was this?

"As all of you know, when we save someone new, when we get a new recruit... they have to prove their loyalty. You know what's about to happen, and you know it isn't going to be pretty. But we got a rule breaker in our midst and a new recruit, so why not kill two birds with one stone?" Negan started down the stairs just beside where (Y/N) was positioned, and she watched him cautiously. "Now, I wish I could let this slide, I wish I could ignore the rules, but this man here betrayed us. Our little AJ here decided he didn't want to spy on our friends at the Kingdom anymore and made a runner! Now, you all know that one of the things I can't stand is a traitor. We're all we have in this shitty world and we can't be turning our backs on one another! Why can't I ignore our little rule-breaker here?"

"The rules keep us alive!" Seriously, this had to be a cult. (Y/N) didn't know how much longer she could stay here. They were all fucking insane.

"That's right! We survive, we save others, we bring civilisation! Rules keep us alive," The guy in the chair, AJ, eyes were darting around, filled to the brim with terror. "And we need to show that to our newest member! So, it's time to punish our dear AJ, and time for our newest member to prove her loyalty. Arat, hand me the saw."

The woman (Y/N) had seen at the gas station the other day strutted over, handing Negan a sharp saw, with the hint of a smirk on her mouth. God, what was wrong with the people here? (Y/N) felt her blood run cold as Negan took the saw and stepped towards AJ, who was starting to panic, wriggling in his bonds. Negan looked up to her, and he stifled a laugh at how tense she was. Without any other words, Negan pulled AJ's sleeve up, and rest the saw on his arm. He wasn't. He couldn't. But she was wrong. Negan brought the saw down, slicing it into the guy's arm. AJ let out a blood-curdling scream, and (Y/N) felt her blood run cold. Her eyes were wide, and she could feel panic sinking into her lungs. There was red everywhere, dripping down his arm, onto the floor, staining Negan's shirt, his scruff, his jacket. He just kept screaming and screaming and screaming. She couldn't breathe. The sickening noise of bones snapping and seperating, of flesh tearing filled the air. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.

Eventually, the guy passed out, just as Negan yanked his dismembered arm off. (Y/N) was frozen in spot. What the fuck, what the fuck. He looked at her again grinning and used AJ's arm to wave at her. (Y/N) managed to drag her eyes away and looked around the room. The saviour's faces were all blank, no one showing any emotion apart from Negan's wives, who were crying in horror.

"Doc, take him away, fix him up. Fellas, bring it in!" The doctor who had been checking (Y/N)'s leg started untying AJ and quickly whisked him away on a stretcher that had been placed to one side. There was an all too familiar noise of a snarler behind her, and (Y/N)'s head snapped to look at the doorway Negan had to lead her through earlier, and there stood two saviours leading a snarler on a weird adapted leash. It was reaching out, teeth-gnashing, and she tried to scurry back, but her stupid leg decided she had moved too quickly. She tripped and started to fall back but was stopped by Negan once again. She hadn't heard him come back upstairs, but to be fair she was more focused on the snarler. He wrapped an arm around her waist while she tried to move away, and she thrashed slightly. She had no fucking weapon, what the fuck was he doing? She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe.

"See, if you're going to be one of us, you can't be afraid to get your hands dirty, and do every little task I ask of you," Negan announced, handing AJ's arm to her. "Feed it to the dead fuck."

"You alright, princess? You look pale," Negan asked. He'd moved her to what looked like a meeting room after she'd...

(Y/N) didn't say a word. She still hadn't fully comprehended what just happened and she was just staring at the floor, silently. She couldn't reply. Even if she wanted to. Red everywhere, flesh tearing, bones cracking and creaking. Negan walked over to where she sat, placing Lucille on the table right in front of her, before he placed his hands on her shoulders, to which she'd flinched much to his satisfaction, and leant down next to her ear.

"Okay, better question. Who are you?" He whispered, and she squirmed at the feeling of his breath on her neck.

"I'm Negan."

"Hey Spencer, are Aaron and Eric back yet?" (Y/N) questioned, jogging over to the gate. They should have been back two days ago, but the storm must have stopped them and she couldn't deny how worried she'd been. Deanna had let her into Alexandria about two weeks ago, just after Negan had sent her on her task. She shouldn't be getting attached. She knew that. And she knew it would make it all hurt later, but despite how weak everyone in this place, and how little they knew of the struggles outside the walls, they were the first trustworthy people she'd met since Kai and the others. Spencer let out a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes.

"If they'd been back, do you think you wouldn't be the first to know?" He snapped, and she raised her eyebrows, daring him to keep pushing. She'd beaten his ass twice before, she would happily do it again. The way he and his brother dealt with runs was ridiculous, and they'd fought over it on more than one occasion. Deanna had nearly kicked her out the second time it got ugly.

In the short time she'd been there, she'd found herself growing close to Aaron and Eric. When she arrived, Deanna could sense something was suspicious about her. As much as the woman irritated her, (Y/N) couldn't deny her sharp wit. She'd put her in with Aaron and Eric after the latter had offered, in some weird hope that they would stop her from getting into trouble. (Y/N) had to hand it to her, apart from a few odd occasions, the couple had been keeping her out of fights, especially when she first joined the community. After so long out there, she was always on guard, and while she didn't think she'd be able to ever get rid of that, she felt safer here. From the snarlers at the very least.

After Nicholas walked over to take his shift on guard duty, Spencer shoved past her. That guy had serious issues. With a small sigh, (Y/N) turned around and walked back into her neighbourhood. She had to get back to her job. Even though she'd hated the idea of working again, of pretending that the world hadn't gone to hell, after a few days, she had started falling into a routine. Since she had much more experience out there than anyone in the whole of Alexandria (not even Eric or Aaron really had any idea what it was like despite being out there so often), she went on runs with Spencer, Nicholas and Aidan, though she knew there was something slightly fishy going on there. Half the time Aidan and Nicholas would wander off somewhere and leave her with Spencer. Spencer only came on runs sometimes, but he would share looks with the other men before they left. Part of her had been tempted to go with them, but she got an awful feeling that prying would do her little good. Especially if they started prying into her business because of it. That would get them killed. And probably her too.

Every week, she had to meet someone from The Sanctuary with information about Alexandria. He needed to know whether it was worth making a deal with them. At first, it had been every two days, and Negan had come himself, to ensure she didn't try anything. But after a few days, he started sending random Saviours, most of which she'd never seen before and extended the time between. She hated them. Every inch of her soul hated herself for ever accepting Negan's offer. She should have died that morning. That would have been better than living with the constant crawling guilt every time anyone showed her any kindness. Or the nightmares of AJ and that snarler that would haunt her every time she closed her eyes. Part of her was tempted to run away, but she knew they'd find her. Negan wouldn't let her go, now he had her unless she was very lucky. But as she'd learnt the past few years, she definitely wasn't.

When she wasn't on runs, she was helping run Alexandria, not that Deanna ever realised it. (Y/N) had learnt that suggesting was more effective than demanding. If she made it sound like it was Deanna's idea, it was more likely to get through to her. That was the only reason some of her ideas had even gotten put into place, like putting locks on houses of the elderly to lock at night in case they passed and turned in their sleep.

"(Y/N)!" A familiar voice sounded and (Y/N) turned around to see Enid jogging over. The teen was known to be extremely antisocial, and according to one of Jessie's sons, Ron, it had taken her nearly three weeks to say anything when she first joined. But for some reason, she'd gotten attached to (Y/N), and she stuck by her as much as she could. Maybe it was the fact that they both knew how much the post-apocalyptic world outside the walls sucked. Enid came to walk beside her as she started heading back to the house she shared with Aaron and Eric. God, she had to stop getting attached. They would hate her later.

"You doing okay, kiddo? I thought Pete was meant to be teaching you and Denise some medical crap?" (Y/N) questioned, shoving her hands in her pockets. Enid shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"He was, but he only wanted to teach Denise because I'm 'just a kid'" She grumbled, using sarcastic air quotations that made (Y/N) chortle. Enid gave a small smile, one that only (Y/N) really got to see.

"Well, kid, you already know how I feel about that man," The two continued walking, exchanging repetitive conversation about the pantry, Pete, Enid bitched about Ron and Sam before they reached her house. They stepped inside and collapsed onto the couch.

"Hey, I was wondering, next time you're on a run, could you try and grab some more comics? I've nearly read all mine, and Sam keeps stealing them," Enid asked, bashfully and (Y/N) smiled. The kid played adult more often than not, and it was nice seeing her actually acting like a child.

"Of course, Enid, I'll see what I can find," She answered, and Enid went to thank her when Denise came crashing through the front door, making the pair jump to their feet. Shit, walkers? An attack?

"They're back and Eric is in the infirmary, c'mon!" Denise dashed off again, and (Y/N) was hot on her heels, sprinting to the infirmary. What the hell did that idiot do now? How bad was he injured? When they reached the infirmary, (Y/N) didn't pause for even a second, and went barreling to Eric's side. Pete was hovering near his feet, but she couldn't help but notice how deathly pale her friend was.

"What did you do, you dumbass?" She demanded, but Eric could hear the pure relief in her voice, and he smiled back at her, despite the small glare on her face.

"Just took a page out of your book," He teased, but let out a groan as Pete started setting his ankle, which she was starting to guess was broken.

"Be careful, asshole," She hissed, and Pete sent her a deathly glare. Eric put a hand over hers, to reassure her. She knew it wasn't Pete's fault, but she was still winding down from the worry.

After about half an hour, Eric was moved home, with the help of Denise, Enid and (Y/N), and she hadn't moved from his side, except to get him anything he needed. Enid had left to give them some space. According to Eric, Aaron had found a new group of about 14 people, and at some point, they'd split up and half of them had found and saved him from getting eaten by snarlers. She made a mental note to thank them later. Aaron had gone with the group for their interviews. Yeah, she remembered hers. Even then she'd found Deanna pretentious. Eric was the one who noticed Aaron walking back to the house, and he laughed when (Y/N) sprinted out of the house to nearly tackle him in a hug. Aaron had to step back a few steps so he didn't fall over, and he was more than a little surprised. She didn't show affection very often, but he supposed he'd probably scared her by being out for so long. Over his shoulder, she couldn't help but notice some kid in a sheriffs hat with his dad. Hell, he looked a lot like that kid from Terminus. But she was probably imagining it.

"You can't just stay in here until my ankle heals, you need to leave, do your job, actually talk to people. Besides, Denise is bringing my crutches later," Eric stated, folding his arms. Aaron was stood behind him from where he sat on the couch, and they were ganging up on her.

"When you first got here, we didn't stay here every day while you had that gash in your leg," Aaron agreed, and (Y/N) started messing with her ring absently, narrowing her eyes.

"You barely knew me then. It's been two weeks and I know you better now," She shot back, starting to pace slightly.

"Okay, look. If you go out for at least an hour, you can come back and check on me. I can survive for an hour, as long as I have a book or something," Eric tried to reason, and (Y/N) paused, holding his gaze. Fuck, they weren't going to let this go until she went outside. It was two against one, and she wasn't going to win this one.

"Alright, fine. One hour, but then I'm coming right back," She snapped grumpily, and the men both grinned. "But let it be known, I'm not happy about this."

"Oh, believe me, we know," Aaron laughed, before kissing Eric's cheek and heading out the door. (Y/N) went to walk out but Eric caught her arm.

"I'll be fine, (Y/N). I promise," He stated and she sighed, leaning down to give him a brief hug before nodding and waking out the door after Aaron. He was stood out front, talking to a large group. Must be the new group, since she knew all the faces here by now. The kid (Y/N) had seen yesterday raised his arm, waving at her with a kind smile, and she waved back, beaming. Then it dropped and she froze, as her eyes caught with some in the small crowd. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. She had to be hallucinating. This couldn't be real

"Daryl?" She heard someone say, but it sounded like her. She couldn't move. This was it. She'd lost her mind, she'd gone crazy. She felt her eyes building with tears, as the breeze blew her hair into her face.

His crossbow, the one he'd taught her how to use so many years ago now, fell to the ground with a clatter, and suddenly he was moving, running, closer and closer until he stopped right in front of her. Her eyes darted all over his body. This felt so real. Could it be real? There was a moment of dead silence between them, where she couldn't hear the confused muttering of the group behind her. Where she couldn't see the wide grin on Aaron's face as he put the pieces together. Then suddenly, Daryl launched forward, yanking her into him so tightly she thought she felt her ribs creak.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. She wasn't crazy. He was there, he was right fucking there, holding her so tightly, a hand on the back of her head keeping her locked against him. Her fingers stabbed into the back of his vest, and she was whispering against his neck without even realising it.

"You're alive, you're alive, you're here," Over and over. She could feel him trembling and tears dripping onto her neck but she didn't care. Her Daryl was alive. Her husband was alive.

"Holy shit," Daryl choked out, and she felt like she could have cried. She never thought she'd hear that gruff, southern drawl again. She let out a teary laugh and she pulled back just enough so she could see him properly. Her hands drifted from his back to hold his cheeks, thumbs running over his cheeks, still laced with dirt and grime.

"If you haven't brushed your teeth, I'm going to kill you, Dixon," She said with a smile before she tugged him forward into a rough kiss. His hands shifted to her hips and he held on so tightly. Like she would disappear if he let go for even a second. Behind them, she could hear Aaron's voice, filled with glee, and the voice of a woman in a similar tone. Confused voices, borderline shouting, and the sound of footsteps running over. But none of it mattered.

He was alive.

TAGS: OPEN

Tags (for this series): @graniairish @fuseburner @gloomystorm @bxxbxy @browneyes528 @hoemadegrace​

(Some of the tags didn’t work last chapter for some reason I’m sorry!)

[navigatrixnarrations]

Sometimes Always, Chapter 1: Thieves Alley

The first chapter of a canon divergent kind-of fix-it set after Season 3 as encouraged by @whenimaunicorn. The beginning looks familiar because I posted it as a WIP, but it continues.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence and profanity

Words: 2034

Charles Vane once heard that a man can only truly possess that which he cannot lose in a shipwreck. For all the times he’s had to run with nothing but his life in his hands, and those times are many, this most recent is the hardest to bear.

The late autumn sleet beats against the drafty window of his rented room by the wharves. Nor'easters, he learned these storms are called, blowing in off the Atlantic, bringing traffic in the harbor to a standstill and turning the muddy streets into debris-strewn rivers.

Until recently, he spent his entire life in the heat of the West Indies. New York City is cold and unceasingly raw. Its damp chill seeps into his bones and makes old injuries ache damnably. Vane finds himself taking a liking to these storms anyway; they match his mood.

Perhaps he should head to the tavern where he works instead of huddling by the small fire trying to ignore the past. The tavern owner is a freedman, known to give a hand to other former slaves. All Vane had to do was show the brand on his chest and scowl a little, and he was given a job as a bouncer. The irony of it: Charles Vane, notorious scourge of the seas, reduced to breaking up drunken brawls and preventing grown men from pissing on the floor under an assumed name. Still, he’s alive and free, right under the noses of the fucking English…

He’s definitely being followed. He dislikes being followed. He turns to see that several of the tavern-goers are coming toward him, an assortment of weapons in hand. He dryly thinks that times must be hard indeed if they intend to rob him of his pay; split several ways it wouldn’t even be enough for a mug of ale each. A pistol goes off, grazing a leg just barely recovered from the last time he was shot, and Vane staggers. His attackers are nearly upon him when a slightly-built figure leaps between them. A low-pitched female voice, an oddly familiar voice, calls out something in what Vane recognizes as Dutch. There is laughter from the others, and they withdraw.

The woman approaches, her hands empty, reaching down to assist him. He gets the impression of large eyes in an angular face, a dark coat wrapped tight against the mist. Is it? Can it be?

She looks at him as if seeing a ghost, albeit a ghost with whom she is slightly cross. Then she remembers herself. “Charles.” Her expression turns wry. “Did I hear them refer to you as ‘Mr. Thatch’ back there at the tavern?”

He checks her face for any sign of fury, and sees none. “I can’t very well go by my own name now, can I, Miss Teach.”

“It’s Mrs. Sullivan now. And no, I suppose you can’t. I’m sure my father wouldn’t mind you using one of his last names; you’re more his child than I ever was.” Her tone is matter-of-fact, without bitterness.

He forces a levity to his voice that he does not feel. “So you married Sully? How is he, anyway?” At least she wedded a brave man and a kind one.

She shuts her eyes slowly, shakes her head, then reopens them. “He’s been dead three years. Took a bullet to the head in a raid.”

“Margaret, I’m…”

“Save the platitudes, Charles. They don’t suit you.” She looks tired, her eyes far away. “He was right beside me when it happened. He died free and he didn’t suffer.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. What can he possibly say to that. Memories of the three of them as teenagers, skylarking in the rigging of the Revenge. Vane was the strongest, Margaret was the fastest, and Sully, well, Sully was acrobatic and fearless. And Sully made her laugh, something she did far too seldom. Vane envied him that ability.

She turns her sharp gaze back to him. "If you’re wondering what I said to your new friends back there, I told them that while it is clear that the only thing you use your head for is growing hair, entering Thieves Alley alone as you did with a pocket full of coin, it would be cruel to deprive you of it."

In spite of himself, he huffs out a short laugh. She’s studying him, and he thinks she sees the question that he cannot bring himself to ask aloud. I missed you. Did you miss me?

“My last words to you were cruel.” She takes a deep breath, steeling herself. “I regret them. I’m glad I have the opportunity to tell you so.” Why did I get you out of there if you’re going to go do her bidding, be her attack dog? She doesn’t love you, Charles, she’s incapable of loving anyone. And now you’re walking right back into another kind of slavery and it was all for nothing. If I never see you again, it will be too soon. She jumped into one of the longboats and never once looked back at him as the men rowed it out to the ship. He wanted to call out to her to stay, that he changed his mind, but youthful stupid pride made the words stick in his throat. In the end he watched her climb the rope ladder to the Revenge, watched her sail out of Nassau Harbor, watched her disappear over the horizon...

Vane holds her gaze because he’s certain that she would not welcome him holding her body. “Everything you said to me was true, though I couldn’t see that at the time. You had every reason to hate me.”

Margaret tilts her head to one side. “I never hated you, though I tried. Never even resented you, really.” She sighs. “I resented my father for wanting a son so badly that he all but ignored me once you arrived, and I resented the hell out of myself for trying so hard to win his approval.” She pauses. “You’re shivering.”

He starts to deny it but Margaret rolls her eyes at him. “Yes, I know, you’re tougher than the rain and wind and you’re made out of pain and hunger, but you’re not dressed for this climate. Let’s get you in front of a fire. I didn’t come to your aid yet again for you to catch consumption in fucking stinking Thieves Alley.” Vane knows better than to argue with her when she takes that tone.

He falls into step beside her and follows her through a series of alleyways, up some back stairs to a garret. It’s two rooms, sparse but clean, a fire burned down to embers in the small hearth. She drags two chairs and a small table closer to the fireplace and gestures for him to sit while she sets about stoking the fire. He finds himself admiring the quiet confidence with which she moves, the deft precision of her hands. That hasn’t changed. The wooden chair feels like heaven after a night on his feet, and the fire quickly warms the small room. He slouches back and stares into the flames while Margaret bustles around, hanging her coat on a peg, boiling the kettle. Unconsciously, the fingers of one hand worry at the scar on his neck left by the hangman’s noose. It’s slight, but it’s there. In most ways he’s recovered from his brief hempen jig. He can sometimes go hours without thinking of it, but there will always be reminders. Much, Vane muses, like his years sailing with Edward Teach and daughter.

Everything hurt. The latest flogging from the taskmaster tore his back open from shoulder to waist, and he could barely stand. His whole body was wracked with fever. He heard a girl’s voice, and a man’s voice, both unfamiliar, distorted-sounding, and then he was being carried. He must have lost consciousness; when he came to, the whole world was swaying and he heard the creaking of boards, waves lapping against the...hull? Why was he on a ship? Had he been sold again? And then a girl about his own age was looking down at him with a grave expression, her hair in a braid and her big eyes curious. “Where am I?” he asked her. “You’re on the Revenge,“ she said, and, seeming to intuit his next question, she added “you’re free now. We’re all free here. We’re pirates.” There was pride in her voice and her posture at that last. He later learned he was free because Margaret Teach talked her father into taking him with them.

In the silence that has fallen between them, his stomach growls. He tries to ignore it, but she’s heard. She fetches bread and cheese from a box on the windowsill, a bottle of rum, and a pair of dented tin mugs into which she pours tea, putting it all on the table between them.

That’s what seemed off. She’s wearing a dress, and it’s all wrong. It flatters her well, but it’s all wrong. A proper pirate like her, dressed like a merchant’s wife.

Margaret raises an eyebrow at the look on his face. “It isn't poisoned, Charles” she says dryly as she pours rum into her tea. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead by now. I wouldn’t waste good rum.”

He takes the offered bottle and adds a heavy pour to his own tea, then takes a sip and lets it burn all the way down to his belly. “Thrown your lot in with civilization, have you?”

“No.” Her knuckles whiten on the edge of the table and she scowls. “I fucking hate it here.”

He reaches over and places a hand on hers, and is gratified when she doesn’t pull it away. “You’re like me, Magpie. We belong at sea.”

“We do.” Her voice is quiet, wistful. “Nobody’s called me that since Sully died.”

Sully grinned at the way Margaret's eyes tracked the doubloon that Vane set dancing back and forth across his knuckles. “You’re a magpie, that’s what you are.”

“ What’s a magpie?” she asked.

“Very clever little bird, a bit like a crow. They’ll steal anything that catches their eye, especially if it’s shiny, and they’ll have a go at birds of prey many times their size. They live in England.”

Margaret curled her lip. “Fuck England.”

“Fuck England,” Sully agreed. “Rest of it suits you, though.”

Vane thought it was apt for the clever dark-haired pirate girl. His fierce little Magpie.

She turns her hand over in his and gives it a brief squeeze. “I don’t mind you calling me that.” They finish their meal in silence, but it almost feels like the silence of old times. As in old times, it’s easy to fall back into task organizing without needing to discuss it much; he clears up the remnants of their meal while she makes up a cot for him near the hearth.

He hadn’t expected her to invite him to her bed, not really; she never did in the past, and the disastrous choices he made when he was a young man likely destroyed any chance of that in the future. They’re no longer children with a habit of falling asleep in a pile among coils of rope like a litter of alley cats between their watches. But now, all these years later, they’re reunited. It will have to be enough.

From the other room, he hears a sob, quickly stifled. Vane knows Margaret doesn’t want him to know she’s crying, perhaps wants it less even than he wants her to cry, yet how can he ignore the pain she’s in? He tries her door, only to find she’s bolted it from within. He returns to his cot. Eventually sleep takes him, and by some mercy, he does not dream.

[rwbyconversations]

The Scarlet Letter: Let’s talk about RWBY’s male LGBT rep

I have been sitting on this post for nearly four weeks waiting until the 15th due to the Before the Dawn spoiler rules.

So let's start with a blunt statement: RWBY's male LGBT representation has not been good. If the series' handling of female LGBT rep is good (which... well there's worse shows) and the general standard for how you write LGBT characters in a show like this, its handling of male rep has been... how not to. And Before the Dawn kinda solidified the idea in my head that the show's handling of its male LGBT cast just isn't good enough, either by the standards of when RWBY began in 2013, or today in 2020 when compatively massive steps have been taken over the past decade to show a more diverse list of characters... or at least a more diverse list of female characters.

I don't wanna make this a pissing match over how over-or-under-represented male or female LGBT characters are, but I feel like it's safe to say that the majority of the trend-setters for modern romances, especially in western animation, have been between women. Korra and Asami from Korra, Chloe and Max from Life is Strange, Marceline and Bubblegum in Adventure Time, (insert the relevant Steven Universe characters here, never watched it), and more recently, Adora and Catra in She-Ra and Luz in Owl House.

Compatively, while studies have shown that in general male LGBT characters get more appearances on a purely numerical level, in general they're more one-off characters there to pad a roster, or played more for comedy (see Josh Gad in the Beauty and the Beast remake or the gay guy in Avengers Endgame that was more notable for how hard China and Russia snapped him out of existance). The only big male-LGBT focused media I can think of from the last decade would be Yuri On Ice, Moonlight, IDW's Transformers: More Than Meets The Eye (Chromedome/Rewind best pairing fuck you Roberts for issue 16) Love Simon, and the anime adaptation of Banana Fish.

So it's no surprise that RWBY basically follows these ideas. It's big romance is (unless the writers are very stupid) going to be between Blake and Yang, their first out character was Ilia, Coco got sent to the Book Dimension where she confirmed "I use my sunglasses to perv on women without their knowledge" which uh... yeah you can definitely tell RWBY is written by men... and Volume 6 had Saph and Terra being a good example of an LGBT couple without any real drama. In the last three years alone, the show has drastically increased its lesbian and bisexual characters, alongside even including its first out trans character in May Marigold (albeit only revealed on Twitter). In general, these depictions of sexuality have been pretty OK. Would have liked it if Ilia wasn't immediately written out of the show after Volume 5 as it made her feel a bit more disposable than intended but whatever, subject for another day.

RWBY's male rep though is a bit spottier. There's the plant bois in Volume 5's premiere, we nearly had Pilot Boi until some last-minute revisions, and... Scarlet.

Why Scarlet's a bad launchpad for male LGBT rep

I don't like Scarlet or how his sexuality has been handled. Scarlet's homosexuality wasn't revealed in the show, or by the writers, or even in anything that's actually canon. He's confirmed gay in his sole of dialogue in a non-canon fan anthology, where the manga's Twitter team had to say that Miles suggested the idea and approved of it.

In short, Scarlet is Dumbledore'd, where his sexuality is revealed in out-of-show material and in a way that doesn't make it supremely obvious (Miles himself never commented to confirm this so this news was limited in how far it could spread. I'm genuinely curious how many people still don't know Scarlet's gay), and Scarlet himself is a nothing character who was written out of the show after Volume 3 and only reappeared in Before The Dawn, half a decade after he vanished. Compared to Ilia, as this came out after Ilia's entire arc in Volume 5, it's not a great starting point for mlm rep. But things would have been forgiven if it had gotten better, if the show did have more male LGBT characters introduced, even just on the Saphron/Terra level of just being around for a few episodes before leaving. Then it would have been a misfire but then we could all say "Things got better."

It... didn't. Which is why when Before the Dawn released in 2020, a full two years after Scarlet was first confirmed gay, while the franchise had more than doubled its wlw rep, Scarlet remained the one male character in the entire franchise who had a name and liked men. I remember vividly a fake leak for After The Fall which claimed Yatsuhashi would come out to Velvet and admit to having a crush on Fox. And I remember as well how many people were disappointed when it was said to be false, because it would have been nice for Yatsuhashi's character, especially after the fleshing out he gets in the CFVY books. If Yatsu had come out as gay in the books I'd like his writing enough to say he's a good case for rep, albeit with the caveat of "This is all in side material." But in reality, the leak was fake and Coco was confirmed gay instead.

Unfortunately, Before the Dawn proceeded to ruin Scarlet and made me at times feel genuinely uncomfortable as a queer man! Let's talk about that.

Before The Dawn is crap and Scarlet's writing is borderline offensive

I hate Before the Dawn. It's... bad. I read it while on a vacation and the only solace I had about the entire thing was that I'd bought an M&M chocolate bar. The bar was finished before the book. That bummed me out. It's not a very well written book, the prose is very Early 2010s YA Writer, none of the characters are memorable and there's various Fun Incidents like "NGDO using children as bait for Grimm," and "Neptune's hydrophpobia being used as a threat to torture him and the scene is played for comedy."

Theo was cool. I can't wait to see him as written by good writers, he should be a highlight of the Vacuo arc.

I had two hopes for Before the Dawn- "Don't be bad," and "Let Scarlet and Sage be well written." I'd liked how After The Fall had handled some of its characters (barring, y'know, Coco perving on women), especially Fox and Yatsu who were surprising in how much I liked them. I was looking forward to seeing Myers give Sage and Scarlet similar treatment- two relatively nothing characters meant he'd have a blank slate to write them however he wanted, he could give them unique personalties and if nothing else it could be cool to see their Semblances.

And then I read the book. (Sage fans I am so sorry for you, you got baited harder than Johnlock fans)

Scarlet's a giant dickhead in the book. It's his sole character trait and his inner monologues go on, and on, and on about how much he hates Sun, how he revels in mocking him. Most of his dialogue is sarcastic put-downs about Sun and how lame he is, and Sun is never properly allowed to defend himself or point out how going with Blake meant he was able to help save Haven Academy.

(hey remember when Sun in Volume 6 expressly says to Blake "I was a bad leader for ditching Neptune and the others, and I need to work on that" only for Before the Dawn to have him staunchly refuse to accept that he let the team down? I don't think Myers did but I do)

Scarlet being a ratty bitch would be one thing if, again, the franchise had done more rep. He'd still be a badly written character, but it wouldn't sting as much. But because Scarlet is still the only expressly confirmed male LGBT character in canon (the book teases that Nolan is gay but there's never confirmation either way beyond him smiling at Scarlet), it means that he has to represent that entire ideal. So when the one gay man in Remnant is being an asshole and a snide loser, that means that by extension, this is how the franchise sees gay men. And that fucking sucks! I wanted to come out of Before The Dawn singing its praises, I wanted to like the book, but it was a massive letdown, especially coming off of the other big 2020 RWBY controversy involving gay characters.

Yeah. We're doing this.

Clover and Fair Game: Technically not queerbaiting. BUT:

Let's pre-empt this: Clover wasn't queerbaiting, and Fair Game, while cool and I dig it, kudos to them for becoming one of the top 5 RWBY pairings on AO3 in one year that's fucking impressive (I say with mild malice as an IronQrow main), never had a chance. The writing never seriously boosted it barring one interaction which was flirty (them talking in the lobby of the Schnee Manor), and everything else was out of show boosting through the social media teams and CRWBY hyping it themselves by saying they liked it. If you wanna blame people, blame the animators who went off-script with stuff like Kim Newman adding the wink as a deliberate nod to the Volume 4 waitress, or the social media team deliberately using the same policies for Fair Game as they do for Renora and Bumblebee.

It wasn't Eddy's fault that things escalated, and he himself has said that in retrospect, he should have warned people that this never had a shot.

But I can't blame the Fair Game fanbase. Because Fair Game took off like wildfire. It came right as the fanbase began seriously asking for more male rep, Qrow's pretty hot, and the Clover wink came right after the Great IronQrow Reawakening of November 9th, 2019. The rocket was primed, and they rode it to the moon. Finally, to these people, after seven years RWBY seemed to be doing something with mlm rep in show. People started getting into RWBY just for Clover and Qrow's interactions. And if heroes were boring, Watts and Tyrian also had a fantastic dynamic that made Nuts and Volts one of the more popular villain ships overnight. Things seemed to be turning around! RWBY was remembering that gay men existed! You could hear the choir sing!

... And for those people, that meant that episode 12 hit like Truck-Kun.

People got pissed. People were horrified. And it didn't help that some members of CRWBY had said in the build-up that episode 12 would have some shots that made them nauseous (probably the Tyrian thumb thing) Out of context, it looked to these fans like CRWBY were basically laughing at their suffering, like they were saying "Lol, you thought you had a chance, get fucked, I hope your vomit burns on the way up."

Yeah, Fair Game was never gonna be canon, and I think some people ran too far with it. But in the wider context of how desperate RWBY's mlm community had gotten for basic crumbs of content? I can see why they'd run with what they had. The writers aren't at fault for what happened, but CRWBY didn't help matters. And that desperate mix of what felt like official backing from the crew, jokes about how cute the ship was, and the hope that finally the show would have onscreen rep? I can see why people ran with it.

So why is the show more lackluster in depicting mlm characters?

Money. Let's be honest, most RWBY fans don't care if the show doesn't have good male rep. I'm willing to bet some of you reading this won't care and just dismiss it as not being that big a problem. I don't think the writers care if the show doesn't have good mlm rep because they're not poaching that market. They're after what they see as a bigger, more lucrative market, which in this case is female LGBT rep. That gets people buying games, watching shows, raising awareness and boosting awareness of your property, which means you make more money. In short: Two women kissing hits more markets and generates more attention than two men.

Am I saying that Miles, Monty and Kerry deliberately sat down seven years ago and said "We're not doing gay men because it won't generate enough ad revenue and traffic to be worth the loss in revenue from homophobes?" No, that's silly. But I'm saying that it's less important for them, and it shows in the things that are small and add up. Things like Miles not verifying Scarlet's sexuality or retweeting the manga account's confirmation to spread the message (compared to how he enthusiastically confirmed Ilia being a lesbian himself during the Reddit AMA). It shows in how Pilot Boi would have been the first mlm character only to die in his second full episode until M&K were told about the Bury Your Gays trope. It shows in how Shannon believes that Ozma is "megaqueer" and Miles jokingly laughs it off instead of confirming it, leaving it to just be Shannon's headcanon. It shows in how actor shipping is compared between the mlm and wlw ships, where Arryn and Barbara's frequent pushes for Bumblebee are seen as "official confirmation that it's endgame" while Michael and Kerry saying they enjoy Seamonkeys is treated as "well it would be cute if they did it, but they're never going to."

I'm not gonna say anything like "CRWBY are gonna have Qrow end up with a woman like Robyn out of spite against the bad apples of the Fair Game crowd." I'm not gonna say that I don't think CRWBY cares about male representation in the series. It is, however, definitely a low priority for them, and because that leads to gaffes like Scarlet's writing in Before The Dawn being offensive in his depiction, it only makes the contrast between the sexes all the more painfully apparent.

I'm kinda tired of waiting for Rooster Teeth to show that they do care about mlm. I'm kinda tired of RWBY's male rep being written like it came from a 1993 time capsule where I have to enhance the screen to see a guy holding a sign of Sun's abs or be content with the only onscreen rep still being the plant bois in Volume 5. I'm tired of how often the crew dances around answering basic questions about sexuality (and age, and birthdays, and heights, and so on) by treating it as a spoiler question, as if just wanting to know what way people swing would ever be a spoiler. I'm just... tired of all this. When the best mlm rep in Rooster Teeth's history remains the two dads in Camp Camp who show up in a few episodes, that should say something really bad about your company and your biases (To say nothing of the recent Red vs Blue seasons and their blatant queerbaiting for Grif and Simmons and the whole can of worms that is Donut).

I'd like to not feel like I'm borderline unwelcome because I'd like to see two men in this show kiss, and that the sole thing that represents people like me in this show is some British twat who complains about sand.

I'd just like to feel like my sexuality isn't a joke to Rooster Teeth (or at the very least, be like Donut and have it be a funny one). But at this point after the last few years? I feel like a very uncomfortable punchline to them. And it just sucks.

[alexlabhont]

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

Chapter nine.

Book: Queen B - Choices (Universe)

Pairing:  Poppy Min-Sinclair x Trans!Male MC (Beck Hughes)

Genre: Canon re-write (Because I can)

Rating: Anyone can read it, really

Tags: @dopeyouth @theymakemegayer @save-me-the-last-dance @poppysmc (If anyone want to be tagged in, just tell me)

This is me trying to write by and for the Trans community, specially FTM community, meaning, trans guys, but I actually took the liberty to use They/them pronouns for everyone out there who´s interested (Also, the name Beck was the most neutral one I could find, trying to use the cannon Bea Hughes)

If you have any comment, PLEASE BE RESPECTFULL and patient with me. This is also my first english fanfic and english is not my mother language, so… i’m sorry fo the grammar errors. I also installed recently Grammary, so... hope its worth it.

CHAPTERS

Chapter eight

ONE-SHOTS

Just a dance (Zoey x MC)

—————————————————————— 

"Zoey, please... Can we just talk about this?"

 Beck asked, sounding tired but worried while sitting in the common room. Their eyes glued to the other girl passing back and forth inside the kitchen, pretending to be alright as she made some tea to herself. Even Pepes knew something was off, that little ugly face looked at her with those sad cute eyes as if he was grounded because of something he didn't understand.

 "Talk about what exactly?" Zoey stopped for a second to look at them, she was pissed, the tension over her shoulders was like concrete. "About how you always manage to take my warnings and toss them in the trash? The way you keep going on and playing with fire over and over again despite my attempts to keep you safe? Whatever Beck, is your life."

 They closed their eyes for a second, breathing deep. This problem started the moment Zoey saw Poppy in the room with Beck a few moments ago, and while the Queen B left almost immediately after that because of some business back at the shelter, Beck could feel their roommate's disagreement so thick and still in the air that they could almost cut it with a knife.

 "Why are you so mad about it, anyway?" Beck asked, feeling a bit upset. "I get that you don't like her and all, but..."

 "I don't trust her, Beck." She replied sharply. "She's mean, she's selfish, she's a spoiled brat who is not up to something good and you're falling into her web. She's gonna use you the moment she has the chance and throw you aside when she's tired!"

 Something inside Beck snapped at that. Yes, they definitely did understand where that came from, for all they knew, Poppy made Zoey's life hell since day one, treating her badly constantly. Even Beck was once a victim of the blonde's anger and resentment during their first months in Belvoire, so much so that Beck thought she was naturally mean and a complete bitch. But, somehow, they had a chance that maybe nobody had before, to get to know her, and slowly they began to see that- maybe she wasn't a born-bitch, maybe she didn't know another way. Maybe she wasn't taught better. Something on their chest knew that, deep down, Poppy wasn't that bad at all.

 "How-how can you know that?!" Beck said, standing on their feet. They didn't like a bit the way Zoey was talking about the strawberry blonde. She wasn't there every single time Poppy showed them how much she cared about them, how kind and attentive she could be every time they were alone, and Beck was tired of all these misjudgments. "She can be mean and cruel sometimes, but it doesn't mean she has something planned to hurt me! I like her, a lot. And I think she likes me too. Why can't you be happy for me just this time?"

 To their surprise, Zoey scoffed sarcastically, as if she couldn't believe exactly that.

 "How can you be so naive, Beck? Do you think someone like Poppy is into someone like…"

 She stopped abruptly, realizing how bad it might sound.

 "Like me?" Beck asked suddenly, feeling hurt. All the times they heard people say shit like that, every single mockery and awful stares came back to their memory, making their chest hurt. The way Zoey looked at them broke Beck a little more.

 "Beck... I didn't mean it like that..."

 And they knew, Zoey would never say something to hurt them about being trans, but Beck couldn't help but feel a hit in the stomach. They latched their fists and looked down, clenching his jaw, waiting for her to speak before they let all their anger out.

 "What I meant to say is... " Zoey walked towards them, stopping until both were face to face. "She has been awful to you all this time and suddenly, one day to another she treats you right? You are different from her... In a good way, you're kind, talented, and down to earth. I'm just afraid you’ll fall into her claws and come to be like her, or worse... That she'd hurt you badly..."

 "I don't need your protection, Zoey" Beck said, feeling tired of being treated like some fragile being who needs to be protected. "I need you to trust me. Poppy has made some mistakes... But I know she cares about me. I know it! I can feel it every time we're together..."

 Zoey remained silent as if she was processing every word Beck said. In the meantime, Pepes jumped over their legs asking to be held, Beck took him carefully in their arms and snuggled him against them trying not to hurt their rib as they felt him curl up with a whimper.

 "I know, Pepes... Poppy's a whole different person to you too."

 Just at that moment, Zoey rested her arms around Beck, hugging them by the hips.

 "Beck, you know this goodie-Poppy better than anyone else on campus at least, so tell me... What do you think she feels about you?"

 "I think she wants me," Beck said, petting Pepes’ head softly. That wasn't even a question to think about, it only took them a minute to bring back all the moments together, every time Beck could feel Poppy's concern and protective side... Zoey had a point, but Beck decided to bet on Poppy's good side no matter what. "She really wants me, Zoey. She has proven that to me in her way."

 "Ok, next question. The real question. The one that matters." Beck could feel her taking a deep breath as if she were preparing herself to hear something she didn't want to listen to. "How do you feel about her?

 "I..." Beck thought about all those moments together, how that caramel eyes made them shiver, every time Poppy managed to take their breath away, her touch, her smile, gosh, even their fights, and that thunder-like personality she had... "I want to be with her. She really makes me feel something special, Zoey. This thing between us is challenging, thrilling, and keeps me on my toes but it can be a good thing... I truly like her."

 For a moment, Beck noticed Zoey's face fall for a second, defeated; but then, she pulled on a smile.

 "Well, if you trust her... I can trust her as well."

 Beck couldn't really believe that. Was she serious?

 "Do you really mean that?"

 "Why wouldn't I?" Zoey simply said. "I may still be skeptical of Poppy behavior, but I trust you, Beck. You're a one of a kind." Zoey sat down on the couch, slinging her feet up on the coffee table.

 Pepes barked happily as if he could understand the massive step Zoey just made, and jumped right to her legs, licking her face as excited as Beck would do it if they were a dog.

 "No, stop it! You're ruining my makeup!" Zoey laughed while Beck did the same, defiled by the scene. "You are so cute I actually forgive you for chewing on my Valentino pumps, you little monster." She scooped him up and placed him on her lap before turning her attention back to Beck. "'Kay, here's what you're gonna do about Poppy."

 "Take her on a date?" Beck asked, resulting in a giggle coming from Zoey's lips.

 "I love when we do this whole telepathy thing."

 "Really? It scares the shit out of me sometimes..." They said joking around. "Like that one time when...!"

 And because of that telepathic bound, Zoey didn't even let them finish that sentence, waving her hands in Beck's face while a red color crossed her cheeks.

 "Uh-uh-uh... We swore not to talk about it!"

 Yep, they both swore that. Sometimes, being roommates was a door to discover a lot of things about the other that may or may not be expected… at all.

 "Anyway..." Zoey continued. "You're going to take Poppy on a date. A real date. We all already know her lifestyle, but it's time to let her know about yours. To get to know you. And if you're really willing to trust her… You need to tell her about Bree." Beck looked away, biting the insides of their cheek. That actually made their heart jump with a little bit of fear. "That's the only way she'll be able to find out where her head is at and what your limits are."

 Pepes lunged for Zoey's fingers, but she snatched them back just in time.

 “Not the manicure.” She said angrily, making him off to go to break something maybe. Beck followed him with their eyes, feeling actually amused by the interactions, secretly loving that love-hate relationship Zoey and Pepes had, it was quite funny. “Quit smiling, Beck. It’s not funny.”

 “Oh, come on…!”

 “Back to Poppy.” She quickly said, avoiding Beck's jokes about how she would rather have a broken finger than a broken nail. “You have to show her what’s going to happen if she dates Beck, if she wants it or not, is up to her. Just remember one thing: you are totally worth it and priceless. No more underestimating you. Trust me, there's a ton of ladies who would gladly take her place.”

 Zoey smiled at them with a subtle hint Beck couldn’t fully place quite right, but they didn’t read too much into it, their mind was off, planning a lot of ideas for the date. There were a ton of possibilities for hot dates, but almost everything was so New York-ish that Poppy could do them with any person. Zoey was right, they needed to show her their true self, they had to open up to her…

 And frankly, that was really scary.

 So Beck took a deep breath and started typing on the phone.

Beck:

Hey. Wanna hang out?

 Ok, that was it. Beck had to admit it, it was always Poppy, the one who made the plans, he wasn’t fully interested nor ready at the time, like… really, who would ever want to date their bully? But now things had changed and so did the dynamic.

Poison Poppy:

Missing me already?

Beck snorted, but a second message came in.

Poison Poppy:

I’m not surprised, tho

I knew you were obsessed with me. Happens a lot.

Beck:

Take it easy, baby girl. It's just a walk. Don't read too much into it.

It was definitely a date, but they refused to let her win this one over; Beck could be as hard to get like her.

Poison Poppy:

Ew, don’t you ever call me like that ever again. 

Aren’t you supposed to be resting?  

Beck:

Is that a “no”?

Poppy saw the message but then went off-line. That actually scared Beck a little, because even though they knew she was busy at the shelter, their nerves kept on saying she wasn’t as thrilled as them to hang out, maybe they should’ve waited until Poppy told them she wanted a date or something, but again, where was their initiative? They were interested, so they needed it to show her what they wanted. “Relax, you were fine.” Beck said to them, even though their heart was beating fast. The Poppy Min-Sinclair effect. So they spend a little too much time reading the whole conversation, was something they said? There were no signs of anything, it was actually a normal-flirty conversation… right?

Sooner rather than later, the typing sign showed up, alarming Beck. Quickly, they tapped the menu button just to get out of the chat. They definitely did not want her to think they were waiting for her reply… even though they were.

Poison Poppy:

I just don’t want to make something to worsen your rib. I didn’t pay a doctor to go to waste.

Same old Poppy, Imma right?

Beck:

It’s going to be low-key, I promise. Does tomorrow morning works for you?

Poison Poppy:

See you then, tushi face 😉

Beck let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding, as the realization of what was happening hit them loud in their chest. Beck asked the Queen of Belvoire, their old enemy, the one and only Poppy Min-Sinclair for a date. And she said yes.

“Well… here goes nothing….”

____

Next

[wellhalesbells]

as i no longer sleep (apparently), let’s do this awesome thing @yodas-yo-yo tagged me on!!  thank you!!

Rules: Tag 9 people who you want to know better/catch up with and then answer these questions.

3 SHIPS

i’m going with not necessarily my all-time favorite ships but the ones i’ve been reading like crazy lately

stiles and derek, as i’m sure we’re all well aware.  those’re my boys.  the dynamic they have just cannot be beat; it’s all shades of gray and built rather than plopped down without foundation.  derek, who has been betrayed and abandoned and is neglected at every turn by every other character in this universe, and stiles, who - importantly - doesn’t have pity for him but pragmatism: ‘you’re a useful dude, and so i am going to use you regardless of how everyone else would just like to write you off.’  it’s not an immediate, ‘ah, you’re perfect for each other,’ moment, it’s kind of a, ‘shit, dude, that is not a guy you should use because he’s suffered that too many times already and this is bad.’  but only through that does it become less about using derek and more about relying on each other, trusting each other’s judgments, and being the first call rather than the last.  i’m so emotionally tied to it because it’s freaking earned and no one is... pure.  stiles’ motives aren’t pure, derek’s actions aren’t pure, no one is a one-dimensional hero who can abide by a concept as infantile as good vs evil, they’re more real because of it and i’m more attached to them because of it.

okay, weirdly, lately..... clark and lex (and after i was just talking about one-dimensional good vs evil characters, lol), preferably with the smallville backstory of once being besties.  it’s just like the best of the best when it comes to tropes that do it for me.  they’re baked in and, unless it’s an au, unavoidable.  epic pining, best friends turned enemies turned lovers (or some variation thereof), a betrayed character (love when that’s lex and it’s post-belle reve), a morally gray manipulative genius who if they are depicted as not having ulterior motives is considered WILDLY out of character, a fucking canonical son made from both their dna, parallel universes in canon, not to mention there’s sex pollen in canon as well with red kryptonite in the mix.  (there’s nothing better than fics where clark is dosed so he’ll finally kill lex luthor only to fuck him practically down to his soul instead.)  i never even finished smallville and while i was always a fan of the ship, it was sort of more of a ‘ships in the night’ kind of ship, like: oh yeah, i know you *waves as you cross my dash* and nothing more.  then i read (and read and re-read and read some more) reconcilable differences and.... there is not enough fic for them out there, friends.  there just isn’t, and i’m sad.

merlin and arthur from bbc merlin.  again, i really like what’s often baked into this pairing: a scenario that comes up with some regularity is a betrayed or banished!merlin and arthur realizing too late what merlin means to him and having to go after him and prove himself.  i live for that shit, okay?  i live for the character who seemingly has everything realizing they have nothing without this other person (especially if said person is often mistreated or sidelined in canon - thank you, fix-it fanon!!!!).  i never was big into merlin fanfic UNTIL ao3 came up with the ‘exclude’ part of the search function.  i don’t want modern merlin pretty much ever and somehow that fandom is about 50% modern aus????  so i never read fic for it because it was so hard to find what i was looking for.  literally the day i saw the exclude option, i started reading merthur fanfic.  i wish there were more percival/merlin fics (i am SO FUCKING INTO size difference lately and i do noooot have a pair that i LOVE that has that, some that i casually read like jaskier/geralt but none that i can’t live without yet and i NEED IT), especially ones featuring a jealous arthur that endgames into merthur but that’s, er, a bit specific?  haha, and i have less than zero desire to write for either this fandom or the one above it sadly.

LAST SONG I LISTENED TO

clairo - sofia, i love how hard my radio station is fangirling over clairo, she has such a nostalgia-inducing sound for me.

CURRENTLY WATCHING

okay, well, i actually just finished the shows i was watching: prodigal son, which was like a less avant garde, less horny, less gay, less people-eating version of hannibal.  instead of a guy who was too unstable to qualify to be an actual fbi agent and who has a loose relationship with reality and mental health, and maybe also a darker side, and a cannibal who definitely does, both of whom badly want to bang each other, it’s a serial killer father who has a darker side and a guy who was fired from the fbi for being too unstable, who maybe has one of his own, in addition to a loose relationship with reality and mental health.  i mostly enjoyed it.  i really liked the actors, the morbid and understated humor was hilarious (seriously, some of those one liners, both the delivery by the actors and the offhandedness inherent to them were just perfection), but.... they fridged the love interest (very VERY predictably) and they’re clearly shoving together the only unattached (”normal”) vagina and penis on the show because HETERONORMATIVITY!!!!!  (i expect more of you, greg berlanti, tsk.)  i’m hoping for more edrisa in the future because she is a fucking GEM (and it’s just SO NICE to see lane on my screen again!!!!), more jessica who might have the best sense of self and humor in the whole dang show, more michael sheen (because i just love the man in anything and everything), and about that finale (even though i saw it coming WELL in advance) i’ll just say: AINSLEY, MY GIRLLLLLLLL!!!!

the other i finished was the crown, season four.  this show never really wows me tbh.  i watch it mostly for a) the performances and b) my mom and dad, who love it immensely and love to talk about it with me.  if not for them i could easily zone out for an entire episode without even realizing it, with all the quietness and sweeping landscape shots, there’s just nothing grabby in there for me.  it’s very uppercrust british, y’know?  haha.  where a comment about your lilac drapes is really a dig about how you’re bringing down the entire commonwealth, which i love to read but watching?  it doesn’t really pull me in.  the high point of this season for me was gillian anderson’s portrayal of margaret thatcher, just the way she would contort her face was amazing to me, and the episode with fagan because hey, i totally knew about that already (which never happens, lol) and i love that actor from preacher and it was just really well-written and acted.  but, overall, pretty much i spent the whole season wanting a violent and bloody and embarrassing death to befall charles, that entitled and cruel little piss-ant, while knowing it wasn’t going to happen.  it’s one of those shows i watch where i’m glad i watched it, but i won’t remember any details about it in a week’s time.

and as for what i soon will be currently watching: i’m starting the great tomorrow!

okay, tagging: @livthelion, @ohlookagaydraco, @grimmypuff, @clotpolesonly, @midnightisquiet, @urban-barbarian, @callunavulgari, @hrast-ika and @i-sveikata!!

[robotslenderman]

For the 21 questions otp ask, Elisa/Lettow, 3, 6, 11 and 12. I hope that wasn’t too much for you 😊

:3!!!!

OTP ask box game.

3. What is your favourite AU/prompt idea/trope for your pairing?

Favourite AU is the one where Lettow didn’t lose track of Elisa and managed to adopt her.

It did... not work out well at first, lol. Lettow had severe depression and had never had a childe before and had no idea what to do with her. Elisa had gone absolutely feral after three months of surviving night-to-night and sleeping in burrows she’d dug herself.

Over those three months Elisa had slowly gone batshit insane. In canon, Lampago scraped her out of it and taught her some survival skills, but this takes place earlier, before Elisa could do anything more than solve intra-kindred issues with “run away or claw their face off.” So in this AU Elisa has gone from a kind, generous and loving vet nurse that loved animals... to this near-wight who actually killed a couple of kindred over territory disputes.

Basically, she couldn’t control her Beast and was getting awfully close to wighting herself. In canon this was reversed by her watching Lampago and fighting hard not to be like her -- in this AU she doesn’t have a bad example to warn her away from going down that path, so she keeps indulging the Beast’s impulses by killing her prey and anyone trying to claim her territory.

Eventually it got bad enough that Lettow intervened before the Prince could put a blood hunt on her head (or his).

At first Lettow had a hard problem just keeping her around -- Elisa kept running away because she’d be overwhelmed or pissed off enough. Each time Lettow would give her a few nights then reappear at her burrow and talk her into coming back, because if she stayed out on her own there was no way she wouldn’t wind up killing someone else and he was highkey really worried the Prince would have her executed.

(Dove thought this was hilarious and that Lettow reaped what he sowed. “You left her so she could learn to survive on her own. Well, now she’s trying to do what you wanted her to do!”)

Needless to say, Elisa developed a Reputation among the Kindred of Tucson for being Lettow’s feral, low-humanity brat.

It did reach a turning point. In canon Lettow wouldn’t give her Stellaluna for thirty years, but in this one he had the same idea and gifted her her own famulus -- that little vampire bat she named Stellaluna. A bit of Elisa’s old humanity came back enough at the gesture that he was able to get through to her, and bond with her through teaching her animalism. Her love for Stellaluna, and her being touched at Lettow’s gesture, was a counterbalance to the Beast.

Yep, that’s right, Elisa had an emotional support vampire bat.

He’d been so desperate he’d seriously considered blood binding her to him until they both got her out of it; a blood bond would have made her so attached to him and desperate to please him it would have given her positive emotions to help lift her out of it instead of primal instinct and impulse, and would have given her willpower to fight her Beast at his behest.

Years later, she’d mention to Lettow that she attributed this phase of her life to severe depression. And he’d be like, “no, you weren’t depressed, you were turning into a wight.”

6. Least favourite canon moment of them?

I honestly can’t think of any explicit moments. All that comes to mind are concepts (that Elisa couldn’t bitch at Lettow about the blood bag thing) or moments that aren’t their moment (Lettow’s bizarre response to Jasper’s torture of Modian and his callousness to Dove), or something that isn’t even a moment (lack of more Reremouse-like missions in-game where you get to work with him hands on!).

11. If they aren’t a canon pairing, how would you get them together?

Their relationship didn’t happen as it did in canon.

Basically, canon moved too fast for them. Elisa strongly resented Lettow at least until the midpoint where he offered her the final three jobs, and she was terrified of him for the whole game except the epilogue because she kept waiting for him to throw her under the bus (the first half) or execute her for Diablerie (the second half). Even after he confronted her about Aila, she was mostly convinced that him having her be the bait was his attempt at killing her without having to execute her.

(Years later he’d tell her that that was sincerely not the case -- that he had her be bait because he firmly believed she could survive anything.)

Needless to say, that’s... not a healthy base for a relationship, even though she was crushing damn hard by the end of the game and was genuinely upset that he didn’t even intend to say goodbye.

But they did get together. After Lettow returned from the Middle East Dove wanted Elisa to do some dangerous jobs and was like, “hey, why don’t we get mister fucking invincible to play bodyguard?”

Lettow was genuinely surprised at how emotional she was at his return -- she would’ve been brought to tears if she could cry. They bonded better this time around, as equals. They talked about Aila and laid that to rest -- it was harder for Elisa to talk about than Lettow. Elisa talked about how Aila was still around. Lettow talked about how he resented Aila for leaving him and letting herself get Diablerised. Elisa got to be turned on by watching him beat the crap out of people who tried to hurt her.

But it was a slow burn because, well. Elisa ate his wife so how could she, in good conscience, ever make a move on him? And on Lettow’s side -- he absolutely despised himself and thought he wasn’t good enough for Aila to stay awake or even alive, and if Aila hated him so fucking much she basically killed herself and put an (in his mind) innocent childe at risk to get away from him, how could he possibly make Elisa happy?

Cue months of mutual pining, and occasionally doing couple things like sharing a bed or cuddling without acknowledging them as couple things.

At one point Lettow bites off more than he can chew even by his standards, which Elisa was able to see plain as day at the time. Their usual tactics when overwhelmed was for Lettow to distract the attackers and for Elisa to run, but this time the opposition was so overwhelming that Elisa knew if she ran Lettow would get destroyed, so she refused to run, which only made things more dangerous for both of them. They had a huge argument about it -- Elisa accusing Lettow of trying to kill himself, Lettow accusing Elisa of being an idiot who didn’t trust him to do his job -- but the whole “oh my god the other person almost DIED” helped them realise that

hey

maybe they should stop letting the Aila thing get in the way and just... get together anyway.

Because they loved each other.

So they did.

And they’ve been together ever since.

12. If you had to take them and plunk them into another fandom, what fandom would that be? Why?

Ooof I really had to think about this one.

There’s no one fandom I’d put them in, but I went into a lot of detail with just one so here’s the one I did:

Subnautica -- Human AU. Elisa is a courier on the Aurora delivering classified governmental data, stuff too important to trust to the post or the internet (or extranet, as it would be). She becomes the only survivor of its crash on 4546B. She feels guilty about falling in love with the planet she’s on and genuinely enjoying much of her time there (when she’s not pissing herself in fear) while knowing at home she has a boyfriend/husband who must be absolutely frantic with worry. She keeps a video diary of her survival there and documents the world as best as she can, tries to find other survivors, and wonders if she’ll ever make it out alive and see Lettow and her parents again -- and if she’ll ever be able to come back if she does.

Meanwhile Lettow is losing his shit, alternating between thinking she’s dead and hoping she’s alive. His subplot is him getting in touch with the loved ones of other survivors and harassing Alterra into mounting a rescue; his hopes are shot down, quite literally, with the discovery of the orbital canon and the fate of the Sunbeam. Alterra is refusing to destroy the orbital canon because uhh we don’t want war with ALIENS??? WE’VE GOT NO DIPLOMATIC TIES WITH ANY ALIENS??? DESTROYING IT MIGHT GET US ALL KILLED???,

but they have a satellite in orbit, out of range of the canon, and it’s looking for evidence of survivors. And it’s been picking up activity -- somebody they can’t identify swimming around near a life pod, or moving on one of the islands, or moving around the Aurora. It’s only when she one day takes a nap on the beach near the orbital canon, her face up to the sky, that they’re able to identify the first survivor -- Elisa Mulgrew, government worker.

That picture of her sleeping face and wet hair makes headlines across multiple systems.

So Lettow finds out she’s alive -- but there’s nothing he can do to bring her home. Nothing. And he doesn’t know how long she’ll live for, or how long Alterra will keep up the expense of the satellite. Because over time it’s becoming clear that Alterra is sinking millions into these efforts and there’s no evidence of any other survivors. There’s only camera recordings of one vehicle moving at a time, one person moving at a time, and the only person they’ve ever managed to record always has the same reddish-brown hair as Elisa. Alterra are trying to stop the search because they see it as essentially wasting millions on one person, who’s “only” a courier, who they can’t even save.

The only reason they’ve been humouring people this long is because of the amount of anti-Alterra political sentiment being whipped up in the wake of the disaster and Alterra’s handling of it, and how many people even within Alterra are upset about the whole thing, and how many people are behind the families of the people who were on the Aurora. And with less and less evidence that anyone other than Elisa survived, even they are starting to lose interest.

Yeah Lettow really copes badly in this AU. “Barely gets out of bed each day” badly.

(When Elisa eventually gets home she leaks the “the usual” audio, which starts a whole new wave of people being mad at Alterra and the guy on it almost certainly getting fired so hard nobody will ever employ him again. Elisa actually feels kind of bad for him.)