#I'm not forcing anyone to ship it or anything but just let people ship whatever the hell they want

[rafyki]

[Valgrace fanfic]

First Valgrace fanfic!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Inspired by @neo-kid-funk's beautiful art and by our constant talking about angsty Leo finding comfort in Jason's arms :')

So, here it is!! Hope you like it~

You can also read it on AO3!

~~~~

If you asked anyone, they would probably say that Leo is loud and talkative, sometimes too silly and unserious, and most of the times a little annoying too.

Anyone else might get offended by something like this, but truth be told, Leo is fine with it - more than fine, actually, he likes it. He has worked hard to craft such an image for himself, after all, to make so that the people around him would see him like the funny friend who always makes jokes even in the most dire situations, the one friend who you could always count on to make you laugh.

It feels safe, being perceived like this. An easy way to hide.

Leo has learned during the year, that if you are annoying enough almost no one would bother to check if your smile is an honest one or not; almost no one would care enough to dig and find out what is hidden under it.

It hurt at first. 

Leo has smiled and laughed and made jokes while screaming inside fake, fake, fake, how can you not see it's all fake! ; holding his tears until he was alone, letting it all out only in the safety of an empty room.

It has gotten easier, with time, so much that sometimes he isn’t sure himself how much of his smile is true or fake, how much of his personality is honest and how much is just his carefully crafted mask.

Maybe he is too good at building things, and that is why no one has been able to see the cracks all over his bubbly and annoying armor.

It’s easier, thinking like this rather than thinking that perhaps, simply no one cares enough to take a closer look.

And so he smiles, he cracks jokes, and he laughs. 

And no one notices when his smile turns forced, or when the light in his eyes dims and his stare gets lost far away for a long moment.

Leo is good at pretending, and so no one notices.

He wonders now if, perhaps, he has been so busy building his armor and thinking that no one would ever bother to see past it that he himself failed to look around and check if, after all, at some point, someone arrived that has been watching more closely than he believed.

It feels weird, raising his eyes after a moment of weakness and meeting Jason's concerned ones. 

“Leo, are you okay?”

The first time it happens, it takes Leo a long moment to really register Jason's words. They sound foreign, like they shouldn't be directed at him.

“Huh, yeah, man, sure I'm okay!”

Smile, fake, pretend. He could feel something cracking underneath. And, judging by the look in Jason's eyes, perhaps he heard that too.

Jason notices. Jason looks more closely. Jason cares enough to do so. 

It is subtle, at first. Subtle to anyone else's eyes, at least, but it still feels huge to Leo.

It is a simple ‘are you alright?’ when Leo gets too lost in his own head, a concerned look thrown his way when no one else seems to notice that there is something wrong with him, a shoulder bumping into his in support.

It is little, but it is there.

It is there when Leo doesn’t know he needs it, in those moments he is so used to hiding alone somewhere and just dealing with whatever it is that was pulling him down - Jason is there and, honestly, Leo doesn’t know what to do with that realization.

Sometimes Leo needs to hide, sometimes he can’t bring himself to crack a joke and force a smile and keep the facade up, and the only thing he can do is hide.

“Are you okay?”, Jason asks, because of course he does, he always does.

Leo nods, wears his signature smile and waves a hand to dismiss the question. 

“Sure am”, he says. “I just need to go to the engine room and check some things - Festus doesn't sound too good right now”.

That's his best excuse when they're on the Argo II; no one can say anything to that, because no one understands, and it's his work to check that everything is perfect with the ship. So they don't bother him, they let him go. Easily, always so easily dismissed.

“Do you want some company?”

Leo feels a little unstable on his feet. This isn't how it's supposed to go - Jason should wave him goodbye and let him go, and then Leo could hide in his safe space and just let the mask fall for a little while.

He really doesn't have the strength to keep it up right now, it's starting to feel a little too heavy.

“Huh, you'll get bored, man”, he replies. “I'm not really all that entertaining while I work”.

Jason shrugs.

“I'm just going to keep you company, you can do your work as you always do”.

It's hard, being on the Argo. For the obvious reasons (quest to save the world, constant monsters attacks), and also for the ‘only related to Leo' issues; it's hard not to feel alone, it's hard not to feel like you could easily be replaced, like no one would even notice you're gone if you threw yourself overboard. It feels unfair, thinking of his friends like that, but the knowledge doesn't make it easier to keep the thoughts away.

It's never been easy to feel like he really belongs. He's not sure anymore he knows what it means, and he's not sure if he'll ever find out.

Jason is looking at him, and Leo wonders how many of the cracks in his armor he can see.

Leo doesn't want company.

Leo desperately needs company.

He's so used to being alone in moments like this he's not sure what he wants anymore.

But Jason is there.

And Leo nods.

Jason isn't the first one to ask, of course. But he is the first one who doesn't seem to believe Leo when he nods and replies that yeah, of course he's okay why wouldn't he be; he's the first one who seem to realize that the smile carefully plastered on Leo's lips is as fake as the belief that the Greek gods have never existed. He's the first one to take a second, closer look, and he's the first one who keeps asking.

And Leo, well, Leo is getting used to it. And maybe he likes it a little too much.

He shouldn't, knows he shouldn't, knows Jason is just that kind with everyone, that he cares for everyone, that the way he cares for Leo is no different from how he cares for any of his other friends.

He knows.

It doesn't really make it any easier.

Jason asks and, usually, Leo lies.

The lies always feel familiar on Leo's tongue, so much that he's not sure he would be able to be honest even if he wanted to.

It's so much easier to laugh it away and pretend it's nothing, rather than trying to explain to someone everything that's wrong with you. What even is wrong with him? It's been so long he doesn't even know anymore. He wouldn't know where to start in telling anyone (in telling Jason, because there's really no one else. He can be that honest with himself, at least).

So, Jason asks, and Leo smiles, and lies.

And Jason doesn't believe him.

Leo starts to lean on it. To lean on the soft words of concern, on the feeling of a solid shoulder pressed against his, on the comfort of a pair of blue eyes looking concerned at him.

He’s not sure when, but at some point lying to Jason starts to feel wrong.

It takes Leo a while to recognize the feeling - he hasn’t been feeling like this for a long while, he’s pretty sure the last person who has ever made him feel this way is his mother; it feels so weird now, but Leo finds himself wanting to be honest.

“Ehi”, Jason says. “Are you okay?”

It’s become such a familiar question now, as long as it’s coming from Jason’s lips, accompanied with Jason’s thoughtful eyes scrutinizing him. 

“Yeah, sure”. It’s a reflex, replying like this. Leo regrets the words as soon as he’s done speaking them.

They’re sitting near the canoe lake, and the Camp it’s weirdly quiet.

The war is over, they’re both alive, and Leo should feel better. He does, in some ways - it’s easier to tell himself he’s enough, it’s easier to show a smile that is a little less fake than usual.

Still, sometimes, he doesn’t, and he’s not sure why.

There are those moments when he simply deflates. Once, he would have said he needs to be alone in such moments; now, he’s not so sure.

“You don’t really look okay, Leo”.

Leo looks at him, and Jason looks back at him. It’s doing something to Leo’s heart - Leo is a little afraid it’s going to set itself on fire any time now.

It’s the first time Jason calls him out on his blatant lie.

“I…”, he starts. He’s not sure how to be honest anymore, how to take off the mask completely. “I… will be?”

It’s true, he always does feel better in the end. It still sounds like a question more than anything else.

Jason touches his shoulder to Leo’s, and this time he doesn’t move back after a few moments; he stays there, shoulder pressed against Leo’s, a solid and real comfort. Leo leans into the contact, he can’t really help it. It feels nice, like he could allow himself to fall, because Jason would be there to hold him and help him back up.

“You know, you don't have to smile if you don't feel like it”.

It hits Leo like a truck. It’s such a simple thing to say, so obvious. Right now, it feels bigger and heavier than anything. 

“Smiling is easier though”, he finds himself saying.

“Is it?”

Leo thinks that right now the only thing that’s keeping him safe is the press of Jason’s body against him.

Is it? Leo tries to remember when was the last time smiling and pretending while he felt like this had actually made him feel better. He comes up empty handed.

He leans more into Jason, wishes for a second that Jason would put his arm around his shoulders to keep him together. He wishes it so hard it takes him a moment too long to realize it’s real when Jason actually does.

But no, it really is true, the weight is real and firm, and Leo still feels like he’s going to crumble any moment, but he also feels like he doesn’t have to worry about picking up the pieces, because Jason will do it for him.

Jason pulls him closer.

His heart is definitely going to set itself on fire now, but Leo goes willingly, and finds it a little easier to breathe.

He closes his eyes, and doesn’t force himself to smile.

The next time, Leo doesn’t wait for Jason to ask.

He feels himself grow distant, getting lost in the maze of his thoughts and memories, he feels a little too outside of the chatting around him; and he feels his lips grow heavy under the weight of his smile, the mask getting harder to keep in place.

It’s a little like instinct, going to find Jason. It’s a little like fate that he finds him immediately in his cabin.

And it’s a little too easy to let himself fall on the bed against him.

Leo feels a little better just with that. 

“Ehi”, Jason murmurs, quietly.

He doesn’t ask, this time. Instead, he wraps his arms around Leo, pulls him closer and closer until Leo is basically curled in his lap, head against his chest.

Jason is sturdy under him. Safe, Leo thinks as he melts in the embrace.

He closes his eyes, and can’t feel anything but Jason around him, his hand caressing his head, his scent filling his senses.

He hasn’t been this bare around someone in years; he never realized how heavy his armor became until now, when he’s finally thrown it on the ground. Jason has taken it off of him piece by piece without Leo even realizing.

He doesn’t feel like smiling right now, but feels calm, quiet. 

The sound of Jason’s heart is the only one he can hear, and Leo almost thinks he can follow a morse code hidden in it, behind every beat.

His own flaming heart is doing the same as he runs and runs - but that code, Leo knows all too well.

His fingers start tapping it on Jason’s chest.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Maybe, one day, he’ll be able to tell him out loud. Maybe he can give Jason some more honesty.

Maybe Jason can understand it already.

For now, he holds tighter onto him and lets himself be held.

Leo soon finds out that Jason's arms are incredibly warm and welcoming, and that it's way too easy to fall into them.

It becomes a habit, and something that Leo doesn’t want to go without. He tries to, reprimands himself every time because it’s not right and it’s not good, and it’s only going to hurt him again and again and again. And where will he even find hiding and comfort once Jason himself is the reason for his spiraling?

But Jason is always there, and Leo can’t help himself.

And so, he doesn’t even wait for him to ask anymore, he simply allows himself to let the truth show, to stop smiling and fall silent, and he leans into him. Jason is always ready to catch him.

Leo wonders if Jason has the slightest idea of what it means to him - of what he means to Leo. Leo would love to have the courage to tell him - or, better, tell him in a language that Jason understands. 

Instead, he falls into him, snuggle into his chest, and loses himself in the feeling of strong arms circling him as his heart runs around in a fire in his ribcage and his fingers tap the same hidden message on Jason’s skin.

It’s so engraved into him, at this point, that his heartbeat probably follows the same pattern, the blood in his veins pumping to that same rhythm.

Maybe that’s why it takes him a long while to realize that that same pattern is being tapped on his own arm. Jason’s fingers follow the familiar movement of Leo’s, speaking the same words that his heart screams every second of every day.

Leo feels it against his skin, and he wants to cry.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Jason doesn’t know, Jason doesn’t understand, or he wouldn’t be doing that.

Leo lets himself feel it one more time before reaching out and catching Jason’s hand to stop him.

“What’s wrong?”, Jason asks.

For a long moment, Leo can’t find his voice.

“Stop”, he manages to say in the end. 

“Why?”

Such an easy question for such a complicated answer.

Leo wants to be honest. He desperately wants to put a fake smile on and leave. But he wants to be honest. He tries to find a joke to say, somewhere in his brain - something that would make the tension dissolve. 

It’s become way too difficult to lie to Jason though, especially when he’s holding Leo like this.

“You don’t know what it means”, he ends up saying. 

A moment of silence follows. Maybe Jason has gotten tired of trying to talk to him, after all.

“Of course I do”.

Leo stops, then turns to look at Jason.

“No, you don’t”.

Jason smiles, and Leo’s heart stops beating. There’s no way he isn’t going to set himself on fire any moment now.

“Yes, I do”.

“Then why are you doing it?”, Leo asks. He tries to move away, to put some distance between them, tries to take his armor and his mask back; but Jason keeps holding him, and keeps them out of his reach. 

“Same reason why you’ve been doing it all this time”, he says. Then adds, “Or I hope so”.

“Oh, I doubt it’s the same”, Leo scoffs. 

He hates the way Jason is looking at him right now, hates the way he himself is feeling right now. Still, he can’t help but lean into the touch when Jason cups his face - gently, he’s always so gentle with Leo.

His fingers start tapping again, slowly, like they’re engraving the pattern right onto Leo’s soul.

“Leo”, Jason says. “I’m going to be brave for the both of us if you’ll let me”.

Leo wants to say something, anything, but his voice is gone again.

Ha can feel nothing but Jason all around him, can’t hear nothing but the hidden words being written on his skin.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

The pattern merges with the spoken words as Jason says them.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Leo still can’t find his voice but his fingers know what to do, and so they reply, carving his feelings on Jason’s chest.

It’s a little like a dream, except that Leo’s dreams are never this nice.

He hides his face in the crook of Jason’s neck, hoping that he won’t set fire to the both of them. Jason lets out a soft happy laugh and holds him closer, leaves a kiss on the top of Leo’s head.

Leo is bare and honest like he’s never been before.

He smiles, and thinks that that feels like belonging.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Noticed something about zutarians: for people who claim to be "THE femist ship" they spend too much time praising Zuko for doing chores, being empathetic, supporting women and other stuff he didn't really do in canon all that much.

Like, feminists would consider these a basic level that any normal person, man or woman, should do for their own's sake without any praise. Oohing and aahing "look, he spends time with his own child!", "oh, you washed the dishes, my hero!", "where would I have been if you didn't do the laundry, my knight in shining armor, you really are a savior!" is... very sexist, actually! And zutarians do just that. It’s not enough for them to write him doing chores, they have to emphasize this, compare him to Aang/Sokka/anyone else who of course doesn’t do chores (because no one except Katara and Zuko ever does anything chorelike in these fics it seems), or just outright praise him for that.

Of course, zutara never was a feminist ship, so my observation doesn't add anything new. I understand that zutara kinda fits "female gaze" or whatever, though, it's a women's dream about a perfect partner, which is totally fine by itself – it just has nothing to do with Zuko (and, dare I say, Katara – I doubt she would be so ecstatic about a guy doing "women's chores", she is used to dividing the work around camp and takes it for granted). And that's why I cannot read even relatively harmless zutara fluff – it very often is very focused on this exact subject. I like Zuko for who he is and the truth is 1) he's flawed even after his redemption and 2) a huge part of how he sees himself is his prince title. Nothing of it matches zutara fantasy of a male housewife, so they have a whole other character named Zuko to fit into their imagination land, and I just have no interest in that.

I'm still impressed by that one fic (not in English) where Fantara was 100% sure that Fanfic-Firelord-Zuko will never ever "force any hapless woman" to take care of his newborn daughter (as opposed to her awful, awful husband, Fanfic-Aang who can't even feed his son, who's still eating only breast milk, for several days while Fantara decided to be away). Sure, girl, he's a fucking ruler, he has a whole country to think about, tons of very important shit to do every single day, a full palace of servants, of course he will always personally change diapers, no doubt. I bet he'll even do all the breastfeeding by himself, since his wife died at childbirth and forcing other women is out of the question.

I'm bitter now, and maybe taking it too far but what if – just "what if" – there are very few people who actually ship Katara and Zuko? Because it seems that most content creators in zutara fandom actually ship their two OCs who are very loosely based on these two characters (but don't I dare tell it to their faces, haha, they are under impression that their image of Zuko and Katara is somehow the only correct one).

Just one little disagreement: Zutara doesn't fit the Female Gaze because there's no such thing in the first place. There's not a single trope, way to direct a scene, or romance formula that universally appeals to women, and the same thing can appeal to different women for radically different reasons.

"Male Gaze" and "Female Gaze" were supposed to be a way to point out sexism (and sometimes straight up abuse) in film-making, but it honest God became some bullshit gender-essentialism nonsense REALLY fast. We gotta let that "That is for boys, this is for girls" mentality die.

Aang does chores with Katara. That is completely irrelevant to me shipping Kataang. Aang is not sexist. That doesn't even reach my top 50 reasons to love him as a character. Aang does a lot of things that don't match the idea I was raised to have of a "manly man" and I could not give less of fuck about it. It doesn't bother me, but doesn't particularly appeal to me either.

But for lots of people that is HUGE and some of the main reasons why they love his character and his romance with Katara. And notice I said people, not women.

I like plenty of enemies-to-lovers ships - I don't relate to a single meta/analysis I've ever seen of "Why women like bad boys/enemies to lovers/redeemed villains so much." It all rang hollow to me. But to plenty of women it hits the nail right on the head.

Hell, 50 Shades of Grey is a "romance/erotica" full of accidental misogyny, abuse-apologism, and slut-shaming yet the fanbase is 90% women from all kinds of demographics, and the main thing they praise about these goddamn books/movies is that it did NOT make them feel like they should be ashamed of wanting to have kinky sex with a hot guy.

The Female Gaze isn't real.

[itsgrimeytime]

The Nurse (Part Two) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Part 1, Part 2

Taglist: @strnqer, @1985bitch, @curlycarley, @imaginemyfavoritefics,

Summary: Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You'd always wondered where he'd ended up; until in your search of shelter, you run into a familiar face.

TWS: Blood, gore, hospital mention, mentions of death, gun violence (just violence in general), swearing, all things typical of TWD.

[[A/N: Let me know if you want to be tagged! And this time is loosely based on S3, E5, where Daryl and Maggie go to get baby supplies for Judith. I will not be following the story to a T though, and will kinda carve out my own path, it's been ages since I've seen it so, any weird story omits or things I don't mention are just not happening here lol. And I know this is kinda fast, I'm just writing as I feel like it, so don't expect super quick updates all the time, but here's a treat. Thanks for reading!]]

You stopped, hand resting on a tree, just for a moment. Taking some deep breaths, you scanned the area, looking for anything familiar or anything that you could, at least, stay the night in. You were practically running on less than an hour of sleep, the pure adrenaline of surviving being the only thing forcing your eyes open.

Currently, your plan was to use some old lipstick you'd found in a purse - somewhere along the road - to mark trees. Leaving a trail, so you knew where you'd been and where you were going. It was simple, and would probably wash away in the rain, but it was enough for now.

With an exhale, you kept moving deeper into the forest - a hope for a cabin, deep in your heart. An unoccupied cabin.

It's not that you didn't want to help people. You truly did. And if you found anyone who needed it, you would - other straggling groups with limps and cuts and bruises. You'd give them advice on how to clean wounds properly, some regular items they could use. If an injury was more serious, you'd stay with them just for a while to watch the person, keep an eye on whatever you had to.

It never stuck, though. You found it easier to be alone, to be on the move. You could help more people that way.

Plus, there were... others. Driven to madness by the tragedy, brutally ready to kill at first sight for whatever fucked up reason they came up with. Some of them had used you for a while, providing you food and shelter, just to ship off wounded soldiers to you - ones they wounded themselves. It was eerily familiar to your previous job, and you almost fell into a rhythm - even thinking about it now, it snuck a knot of guilt in your stomach. One too many threats, and you found yourself back to traveling.

The scrubs you still wore stuck to your skin, hair matted and blood soaked - you imagined this wasn't one of your best days. But it honestly probably wasn't your worst either.

And then, you heard it. The snap of a twig.

"Fuck," you whispered barely even a breath, pulling your duffel over your side and readying your fire axe. (You'd grabbed it back at the hospital, all that time ago.)

There was something to be said about a single snap of a twig because the dead were noisy.

They were unaware - would continue down the path, crunching leaves and snapping more twigs, dragging their feet through the dirt. In different circumstances, they could sneak up on you. With the soft grass under their feet and the hum of the animals in the forest mixing in with their own tones, sometimes you had to rely on the quietest of noises.

But this forest? No.

Without thinking a second more, you spun behind the nearest tree, the red of the lipstick - grazing along your fingers.

"What, so-" a voice spoke, "-we just give up?"

"No," a gruff tone responded, hair a little overgrown, and what seemed to be a crossbow on his back, "-Just means we got some extra work to do."

The woman, who had short brunette hair and a pistol in her hands, said, "Yeah, and we're gonna do it. We... have to. She deserves a chance."

"Of course," the man responded, a little bit upset she even insinuated he wouldn't care.

You watched carefully, eyes following the pair as they roamed through the woods - before stopping in front of one of your trees, your marked trees.

"Fuck," you muttered, so soft, the wind could’ve whisked it away, exhaling carefully and turning around to face the other way.

"What's that?" the woman asked, a tone of mixed concern and curiousity.

There was a scrape, and you could only assume the man touched the lipstick mark, as he hummed, "Not blood."

"I think..." the woman muttered, the slight slur of her accent becoming stronger, "-I think it's lipstick."

The man huffed, his accent strong, "What for?"

There was more leave crunching, and the woman replied, "Maybe a path? I don't..."

"Hello?" the man spoke, and you heard the click of metal, like he'd moved his gun up, "Is anyone there?"

The woman seemed to keep moving, leaves crunching getting closer and closer to your ears, you knew they'd notice an end of the path.

You needed to do something quick.

"I'll give ya 'til a count of 3," the man spoke, the metal clicking once more, "-one."

Your breaths shook, as you debated your options, based on what you'd seen the gun the man had was long range. So, running was out of the question.

"Two," his accent lilted.

Your feet were almost rooted in fear, what if it happened again? What if all you were surrounded by was death? What if they used you and then killed you next? God, you couldn't die, not now. Not after everything you'd done.

"Three," he added, tone more aggressive, and the click of the metal once more sending fear down your spine.

You couldn't wait any longer, squeezing your eyes shut, you spun around, "Wait!"

Expecting the blossoming pain, you flinched. Yet, after a moment, nothing happened.

You cracked open your eyes, and saw two guns trained at you, the woman and man now in clear sight. Noticing now, the bags full placed at their feet, you wondered if they thought you were here for their supplies.

Without hesitation, the man straightened his gun and asked, "Are ya bit?"

"No," you answered quickly, flourishing your arms forward as if to show the lack of teeth marks, "-no, I'm clean, you can check."

"What's your name?" the woman spoke, tone solid and unmoving.

"Y-Y/N." you stuttered out, looking down the barrel of two guns wasn't exactly calming.

The man, a bit distant, replied, "What are you doing out here?"

"I..." you exhaled, trying to calm your shaking hands which were still caked in blood (as the rest of you were), "-I'm just looking for shelter for the night. Look, I don't mean you two any harm, just leave me be and I'll-"

The woman faltered, her green eyes flickering with emotion -just for a second, "You need shelter?"

"Uh, yes," you spoke, a bit bewildered that they were listening but too tired to question it, "-I haven't slept in 3 days, I just need some rest and I'll be-"

"Maggie," the man spoke stern and low, and you weren't sure you were supposed to hear it.

The sun was setting now, and if they had some shelter, this was your last chance for the night and you were just so tired. What else could you do?

Maybe you could bring something to the table.

Interrupting their hushed conversations, you began, "I... I heard you say a 'she' earlier, is there something wrong with her?"

The two stopped talking, the man's icy glare set on you, "Why you askin'?"

"I-If she's sick, I can help," you beckoned, "-I come from a hospital, I have all kinds of medical supplies. I-I can show you if you want. And-"

The man interrupted again, as the woman, Maggie you now knew, carefully watched you, "You a doctor of some kind?"

You paused, waiting for a moment before responding, "Y-yes. I'm a nurse, er well, I used to be. I... I worked at Harrison Memorial Hospital when it all went down."

The woman started this time, "And you're willing to help us?"

"Yes," you asserted, "-as long as I have a place to stay for the night. That's... that's all I ask."

"But you'll stay as long as we need ya?"

You furiously nodded, "Of course. I won't... I won't leave someone I know I can help behind."

The two turned to each other, before slowly pointing their guns to the ground. You exhaled a big breath of relief as your heartbeat slowed, muttering out, "Thank god."

The woman, held out her hand, "Maggie."

You hesitated for a moment, at the current state of your hands, before accepting it with a quick shake.

"Daryl," the man added, hand extended as well. You shook his, and began to follow in their footsteps -leading about west of where you were headed just earlier.

"Are you with a group?" Maggie asked, strolling along the woodlands.

"No," you replied, "-I... I come and go. Sometime people need a doctor so I help, but-"

The two looked at you, still watching you to say something wrong. They were still heavily armed afterall. The thought made your hands shake.

"I ended up in some shady places," you continued, "-because I stayed. So, I don't really stay anymore."

Daryl hummed in response, and Maggie simply looked at you with eyes of hesitant trust. Like she wanted desperately to trust you, but it seemed hard. You didn't blame her. Not really.

The last time you trusted someone, it hadn't gone well then either. This world is not one of trust, you knew that.

"We have a group," Maggie continued, walking in step with you as Daryl scouted ahead, "-it's small but we don't trust too well."

"Right," you murmured, expecting as much.

Daryl hummed, "We have a leader too. You'll have to meet him. You gonna be alright with that?"

Before you could even respond, Maggie interjected -an unsettled look in her eyes, "Daryl, is he even... in the space to do this?"

"Don't have to be," he responded, a little coldly, but you figured that was just kind of his tone at this point, "-he's gotta. I'll talk to 'em."

You furrowed your eyebrows, a question on your tongue, but found the following silence was not one to be interrupted. Without thought, you simply adjusted your bag and continued along. Their path was set as if this happened often, and the knowledge that you were going to a very settled camp irked you just a little.

A dynamic that felt substantial in this post-apocalyptical world usually wasn't the kindest. Oftentimes, it was 'kill or be killed'.

You knew that well, staring down at your hands (which had definitely dried by now) -you wished you had a way to wash them off. But the water was too precious to risk anyone's supplies, frankly. It reminded you of before, when veins would rupture, when hearts wouldn't beat, and everything felt like it was on the line.

An exhale, and you scrubbed your hands on your pants.

It felt immoral, as you held a fire axe in your hands. Weren't you supposed to save people? Wasn't that in the oath?

Shaking your head, you glanced ahead at the pair wondering how exactly this group operated -where they had a protocol for finding people. That wasn't... You hadn't seen much of it.

"This group," you questioned, "-how long have you guys been together?"

"Long enough," Daryl answered, curtly, "-prove yourself and you might just have a spot with us." Maggie hummed in agreement, pulling her pistol close to her chest, as a large barbed wire fence came into your view. And... were those... watchtowers?

"Is this...?" You trailed off, eyes taking in the surrounding concrete and the few stragglers either slowly trudging to the group you found yourself in, or mindlessly clawing at the tall fences as if it would do anything.

"Our base," Maggie finished, pulling her pistol to attention and shooting one of the dead just ahead of you -right in front of what you assumed was the opening gate.

"And it's a..."

"Prison, yeah," Daryl finished, pulling out his bow and killing the other one without a flinch.

"Right," you responded, a bit astonished, "-have you guys cleared the place?"

"Almost," Maggie answered, as the three of you stood directly in front of the gate. There was a watchtower to your left, and you could see the familiar glint of a scope shining down from the top.

"Glenn!" Daryl shouted, you watched as the dead stirred toward the noise, "-Let us in!"

There was a moment of hesitation, a breath of air catching in your lungs as the corpses made their way to you -slowly but surely. You knew a few weren't a threat, not with a group the size you currently were in, but you still felt this buzz of fear under your skin. Normally, you would be gone by now, vanished into the dust -not wanting to waste durability on a fight that would only bring more opponents.

Without warning, the door swung open and you assumed they had silenced the mechanism because no sound other than the screech of metal moving across the concrete filled your ears.

Which was not pleasant. At all.

The crowd there wasn't particularly large, but still seemed odd. Maybe you had been alone for too long.

A man quickly approached the group with a warm smile, rushing up to Maggie and scooping her into a hug. This figure hardly even noticed you or Daryl, now that you thought about it, but you doubted you would have either.

Daryl spoke, with a taste of disgust (you couldn't tell if it was playful or not) "That's Glenn, Maggie's boyfriend, you'll get used to it."

You nodded, pointing to a few stragglers around what looked like crops, "Okay, and... who are they?"

Without answering you, Daryl called out, "Rick out here?"

The older man who was tending to the crops looked up, eyeing you for a second, before answering, "I think he's inside, clearing out block F."

Maggie responded, "Daddy, can you see if you can get him out here?"

You blinked, absorbing the new information, Maggie's dad, right. The old man sighed, standing and brushing off his hands on his knees.

"I'll try."

Daryl nodded, not leaving your side, and it would've been comforting had you not known it was because you weren't fully trusted yet. Maggie guided you to a table, assumedly brought out from the cafeteria, and sat you down with a calm gesture to a chair. Glenn followed close behind, and Daryl merely observed.

You doubted he'd even blink while you waited for the mysterious Rick. He seemed the type to take his duty seriously.

"I'm Glenn," he held out his hand across the table, sitting just beside Maggie with curious but cautious eyes. It seemed he trusted Maggie's hesitant judgment of you.

"Y/N," you replied, accepting his hand, "-this is a lot, huh?"

"Oh yeah," Glenn continued, looking around the courtyard, "-finding the prison has been life-changing for us."

"I imagine," you laughed, a little in disbelief at the mere size, and looking over the two's shoulders to see the dead staring in through the fence. There weren't that many at all, but it still trickled in some of your solo senses.

Which were mostly bashing their head in before they get too close.

Maggie caught your eye, inquisitive almost like you were in an interview, "How familiar are you with the walkers?"

"You mean the dead?" you clarified, fingers trailing along the blood in the creases of your palms, "More familiar than I ever wanted to be, that's for sure."

Glenn opened his mouth to say something, but something bumped into your ankle and you were immediately on your feet. Prepared for the worst.

Instead of what you expected, there was a ball... An old deflated basketball probably from the court somewhere around here, you stared at it a bit incredulously. Like you'd almost forgotten it was a thing. You picked it up, brushing your finger along the bumpy texture.

"Sorry," a voice spoke. Squeaky and... familiar.

Your eyes snapped up and were met with those eyes 'You have to save him, please.' Breath caught in your lungs, your mouth moved but nothing came out. He was a little older now, with hair a touch longer and a sheriff's hat on the top of his head. But that was-

Daryl grunted, "Play somewhere else-"

"Carl?" you interrupted, tilting your head and dropping the ball to the floor; what were the chances?

Maggie stuttered out, a tone of protectiveness in her voice you'd have yet to experience, "You know him? Carl, do you know them?"

He paused, tilting his head in the same way you had just seconds before like he was trying to get a good look at you, "I..."

He looked into your eyes, eyeing your scrubs for a second -probably the same he'd seen you in so long ago. And the blue eyes that were so achingly familiar seemed to light up in recognition, he questioned, "Nurse Y/N?"

It was like a pin could drop, as the boy's gaze settled on you curiously, and every adult in the vicinity watched you like you were the most dangerous criminal in the world. A tension settling within the air that gave you uncomfortable goosebumps, and desperately made you want out of the spotlight.

Slowly, a grin slid across his features, his tiny finger pointing at you, elated, "You saved my Dad!" And before you could even react, the little boy had scurried up to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your middle - almost knocking off his hat at the force.

You blinked, a little stunned at the current predicament, but shook yourself awake. Completing the hug, you exhaled a sort of relief you hadn't known you needed. Seeing this little boy surviving such a terrible world gave you a spark of something. Like you'd been waiting to hear this.

"I promised I would, didn't I?" you hummed with a very soft smile.

Just as he let go, you crouched down and fixed his hat on his head, suddenly much more comfortable in a known presence, "Cool hat, kiddo."

He grinned even wider, but before he could even say another word, another voice echoed through the courtyard. Tone hardened and deep, this one could not be missed.

"Carl?" a breathy southern drawl -that you knew- interrupted, and your stomach flipped.

The tone was accusatory, dangerous even, so you stood quickly. A distance now established, you looked up into the figure. That couldn't be-

The blue eyes had burned into your head, so clear, so decisive.

"Rick Grimes?"

[zootopiathingz]

Genuine question: Why do you ship Radiobelle? I've seen a lot of people doing it, and I'm curious as to what the appeal is!

The real question is, why do people ship anything? Why do we all see two or sometimes more characters interact with each other and imagine how cool it would be if they both had deep-seated romantic feelings for the other?

Answer: cuz we can!😌

Idk about the rest of you, but I don’t exactly have much control over what I ship and don’t ship😅 I just see the characters together and my brain randomly decides either “yes I want them to make out” or “nooo I don’t really see it”

But as for Radiobelle specifically, there’s just something about them that my silly fangirl heart can’t resist. While I am fairly new to the HH fandom, I did watch the pilot around the time it came out and a small part of me did ship them back then. But I never really allowed myself to indulge in it and I just wasn’t that into the show anyway so I didn’t bother. Now, after actually watching the episodes and engaging in fandom content, I finally embraced the cringe to the full extent and let myself be consumed by the radio demon and his charming demon belle! :P

Now I’m aware that the majority of people don’t like Radiobelle, or even full-on hate it for multiple reasons. Sure, whatever. You don’t have to like every ship, nor does anyone expect you to! I can understand it’s not for everybody. The main thing that bugs me, though, is when people try to start arguments about why it’ll never be canon and why you shouldn’t ship it. “Charlie is with Vaggie and Alastor is aro/ace!” People ship Alastor with a multitude of other characters and nobody bats an eye,, why is it only when you see him being drawn with Charlie that you lose your shit and get offended about his sexuality being ‘erased’? (That’s a topic for a whole other post tbh). And people can ship Charlie with other people. Hell, they DO! I’ve seen numerous art of her and other characters.

Then there’s also the “Alastor thinks of her as his daughter!” See, I want everybody to actually watch episode 5 again and come back to me on this. No, he fucking does not. The only reason he was saying any of that was to get under Lucifer’s skin. That’s it. That was his whole intention. He doesn’t like Lucifer and wanted to rub it in his face that he has been a lousy father to his daughter, in comparison to all the ways he has helped her, with the hotel and whatever else.

Phew, now that I’ve gotten that out of the way! Onto why Radiobelle has stolen my heart!

I just love their dynamic and it all really started with the pilot. Alastor—this mysterious force of nature who can kill anyone and anything, is capable of unimaginable power and torture—randomly showing up on the doorstep of a hotel to help out. And literally no one else trusts him (reasonably so) but Charlie, the good-hearted soul she is, lets him in. She’s cautious, of course, but she’s giving him the chance to do some good because that’s what her dream is all about!

Now while I do wish they had some more interactions in the actual show, what we have so far is scrumptious✨ Alastor may have been giving an abundance of praise to Charlie to piss off her dad, but I don’t think he was lying. Deep down I’m sure he is enjoying the time they’ve spent together—even if he doesn’t fully realize it. Charlie defends Al’s sadistic behavior to her dad because he was doing it to defend the hotel (and bc he’s a cocky mf lol but it’s endearing to her in a way).

Oh and don’t even get me STARTED on episode 7 bro,, omfg the content!! The way he’s extra touchy with her even after they’ve made their deal. Her being nervous and stressed out but he encourages her anyway and verbally admits that he had faith in her the whole time. Him giving her his microphone—which is likely the main source of his power as shown in episode 8 (where he let her use his mic AGAIN!!!) which just shows how much he actually trusts her,, UGH it’s just 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻 give me more!!

Now, do I expect Radiobelle to become canon? No. Would it be fucking awesome if it did? Oh absolutely. But I know it won’t, and I don’t care! I’m having the time of my life shipping these two hell-dwelling idiots and I don’t care what anyone says about it!😋

[beanghostprincess]

Sorry I really didn’t mean I’m attacking you or your ship. I also don’t think it’s a red flag, most gay men I saw don’t really like shuggy either. I mean, probably the entire world prefers any other shanks ships? On almost every site, con or store there’s always tons of mishanks and Bennshanks and never shuggy. I get it’s also about dynamic and connection those two pairs have, like with the parallels to other ships the base for them is extremely strong. But the minimal shuggy does speak volumes. I genuinely wonder about this. Shuggy is unpopular and again while I do agree there’s strong connection between “rival ships” I don’t think that’s the only reason… and like…. Buggy is ugly, isn’t he? He doesn’t have cool style, doesn’t look cool, makes ugly faces all the time, also is a coward. I like him as comedy character and shanks brother though!

I understand where you're coming from when you say Shuggy is unpopular amongst some people (actually, before anyone says anything. It IS an extremely popular ship in Japan but I have seen A LOT of hatred towards it in this side of the fandom, so that's what I'm talking about when I say it's unpopular). I have talked about this before. And I have said a lot of times that the reason why is often because people only focus on looks and Buggy is not conventionally attractive for the fangirly twinkified sexualized gaze numerous sides of the fandom and the general audience seek. Like, I am not forcing people to ship them, but I have had people admitting the only reason they don't is because of the looks, and I personally believe that is a very (despite valid, of course) dull way of seeing ships. And respectfully, I don't care that other gay dudes or all the people in the world agree with you. It's not a red flag to not like Shuggy, what it is a red flag, though, is to come into people's inboxes to do what you're doing!

I know you don't mean to attack me or anybody who ships them but your tone does wonders showing otherwise. Your perception of shipping is just based on looks and the fact that you came here, to a blog that explicitly ships these characters and is fond of Buggy, talking shit about one of the characters' looks... Is just straight-up mean and not following the social etiquette this site should follow, which is "let people do whatever the fuck they want".

So with all due respect, what makes you think I won't find your questions offensive in any way? Because you keep talking bad about a character I like in my inbox for literally no reason. Do you expect me to admit that the ship is unpopular because Buggy is ugly and boring? Well, I do admit people view him as ugly and only a comedy relief, but I don't. Expecting others to find beautiful and interesting the same things you do is having a very close-minded vision that One Piece's plot itself is against.

By the way, you're showing that you clearly don't like Buggy in the slightest because you're only talking about the traits that you find negative about him. But of course, you like him as comedy relief. Of course, you like him as a character in Shanks' story and not as a character himself. Despite Buggy having lots of depth. Your perception of these characters seems, in my opinion, extremely empty and, as I said, only based on looks. And you're free of shipping whatever you want however you want! But please, please, don't do this anymore. This is just petty high school mean girl behavior. Even Regina George would word this in a more polite way.

So, as a little advice for you, let people ship whatever they want without questioning their favorite characters! I am sure you will live a more peaceful life!

[wingsdippedingold]

My statement on ACOTAR characters

(unedited; really just a brain dump)

I know I use a lot of pro and anti tags when it comes to ACOTAR, and while I do have characters I like more than others, I really just dislike them as a whole. I think the series is poorly written and SJM is the one I actually hate.

I honestly can't really criticize or defend any character properly, because the characters themselves are just deficiently made. They all come from the same dumbass author. The main thing keeping me in the fandom are the actual people in it, because they have actual thoughts that make sense, and I find discussing the topics presened entertaining. So I don't wanna hear any "Well if you hate the books so much stop talking about them" bs

I don't hate Rhysand, in fact I think he has a lot of cool moments. I like the idea of him not bowing to anyone but his own people, so he got a knee tat of Velaris (even if I think its dorky). I enjoy his outlook on what's right, and I did genuinely like him early on. But I think the way SJM writes his actions (especially political ones) and their justifications incredibly disjointed poorly thought out. I think he's wrongfully used and justified and digs people into a bad way of thinking ethically because SJM has made no move to do anything but portray him as a white knight. Had the narrative acknowledge some of the things he's done as actually bad, in fact that most of them have bad outcomes for some even if they benefit others, I'd have no issue with him. SHe just writes him doing heinous things for reason and then is like "Oh but he's traumatized so its okay!"

I don't dislike Feyre, but I think she's often shoved into a backseat role in her own series. I know this is a multi-pov story, but seriously? How the fuck did SJM make Feyre's pregnancy climax to nothing more than more Nesta hate??? Why was her experience and thoughts just completely missing in the plot that literally revolved around her?? I find her flaws charming, and yet they're often forgotten or used to justify things that shouldn't be justified. I don't have any issue with her beyond the SC disaster. But, I think the fact that there's Feyre antis in general speaks to how bad of a writer SJM is. You can't even make people agree on liking your main fucking character? In fact most Feyre antis are Pro Nestas... which is ridiculous. How poorly do you have to write for people to pit sisters against each other WHEN YOUR MAIN TROPE IS FOUND FAMILY. The way SJM uses Feyre pisses me off endlessly

I think Feysand has its moments, and I don't hate anything about them specifically - but rather how they're presented and treated by the narrative. I think they make sense together, and I prefer them to Feylin, but I hate how SJM and fans bend over backward to justify everything.

I'm not a Nesta stan, I just think the narrative (and especially SF) is an injustice to real world issues and the logic used against her makes no sense in reference to the other characters. SJM says she loves her so much, but shows her none. I find the way the fandom treats her lacking empathy, and SJM has done nothing to actually better her character. I think its ridiculous no one acknowledge that she grew up in the same fucking cottage as Feyre with the same parents. SJM constantly dredges up new shit to pit her and Feyre against each other instead of just letting them be happy. She treats Nesta like she's irredeemable, and when she does "redeem" herself its literally in service to the people who are forcing her to fix herself??? She's used as a point for juvenile drama and placed in a cycle of being antagonized with no outlet to place blame. See my full thoughts on her here

I don't actually despise the ic, I think they all are just wasted and thrown into whatever whirlwind situation gives SJM a boner. I think Morrigan had so much potential, but SJM decided it would be better to use her for petty drama and forwarding a ship. I don't hate her because she doesn't do anything for the woman in the CoN, because quite frankly I don't think SJM has thought that far. I don't think Cassian's the worst man alive, but I think SJM has a poor grasp on him and what a healthy relationship (even in the bounds of a fantasy novel) is. And I just find Azriel particularly useless, he's not a thoughtful sensitive soul, he's just yet to be focused on. And I do not look forwards to the day he is, based on his first and only current pov.

I'm not a Tamlin stan, in fact I really don't care for his character, but I think he suffers from lazy writing and some severe character assassination. I think the switch up on his character after the first book is absolutely ridiculous.

I dislike how SJM throws Elain around and treats her like a little precious baby and making her out to be an airhead whos absolved from the same crimes Nesta's hated for.

I'm not an SJM fan, I'm an avid SJM hater. I actually despise her, and while I won't write out my entire long list of grievances with her here, just know that literally all of my issues with the series would be gone if she was just a better person and writer. Seriously, I think she lacks so much mechanical and analytical skill (which is crazy, she's been publishing books for 12+ years and written like 15) and I see no change in the future. She constantly retcons, switches characters up for whatever her narrative calls for, and sacrifices good character writing for a fast track to mediocre faerie smut.

I hate the way she sexualized Feyre's experience under the mountain. I hate the way she immediately objectified Feyre when she got pregnant (the blurb describing Feyre walking around while pregnant is insanely kinky and I hate it). I hate the way she throws around trauma and mental illness like cute little stickers so that she can pick and choose the aspects she thinks are cool. I hate that she's fucked up people's perception of abuse and mental illness. I hate the way she uses poc and steals credit for representation she didn't care to make. This isn't even all of it, its just what I can remember within the 9 minutes I spent writing this brain dump. SJM does not deserve more of my time 😭

If I was a character in the series I genuinely think I'd avoid all of them, because I don't care, and if I somehow did have to be cornered with any of them, I'd hate all of them. But If I ever faced up with the mother (aka Sarah), it'd be on sight. My hatred for her knows no bounds. Hate is a strong word, and one I used so many times in this post (something SJM does a lot too though, so I'm not worried, seriously get a thesaurus and stop using the same phrases every 6 pages) because it's true.

[scrunglepaws]

Some Kits from my various AUs! Details below the cut! <3

Someplace Kit (aka Aquarius Kit) is frikkin tiny. For some reason, his cyborg-ification halted his growth and, well... He hadn't hit puberty yet and is a shortie fennec on top of that, so... Womp womp. :/ He is a grown ass man now and loathes being infantilized. He has worked VERY hard to combat the programming to be doggedly loyal to Surge and still can't resist it when directly in her presence. He also pushed a lot of his issues under the rug (whether consciously or not), leaving him a pretty apathetic shell of a person. He does have a secret hobby that makes him genuinely happy, but he would rather die/kill than let anyone know about it. His wardrobe consists of 5 sets of the same clothes because he can't be bothered. #1 Tails hater. Thankfully, he doesn't live near him.

CaveTails Kit grew up a homeless orphan in a 50s/60s-ish setting. He now works as Dr. Starline's personal assistant at a university. His childhood friend, Surge, pops by on occasion to participate in clinical trials for cash. He's a hard worker, almost always consumed by whatever Starline has him stuck to the grindstone on. This includes being forced into dangerous fieldwork, like being shipped off to a mysterious land full of terrifying megafauna. But some of the megafauna might actually be mobian and just like, messed up with some dark Gaia energy or something (whatever that is). And also they might be really attractive- something to jot down in the scientific logs for sure.

Folklore Kit is a kelpie and just straight up evil. He will drown you and eat you without feeling remorse. ... I like him a lot! :D Anyway, he has a horse/quadruped form (I'm undecided on making it a straight up horse or more of a horse/fox thingamabob?) and a mobian form. The mobian form usually looks dashingly handsome- y'know, to lure people over so he can drown their asses. But he can look more scrungly and swampy as well. Hopefully there isn't a super smart inventor living nearby that creates a magical bridle that tames kelpies and makes them docile. That would really suck for him. :)))

CtfBL stands for "Creature from the Black Lagoon," a 1952 film. This AU is basically just that movie. I proooobably won't write anything for it unless it's just short and silly? But it has been fun tweaking my Creature Kit design, getting closer to the perfect amalgamation of the both of them! He's so ugly!!! :D:D:D <3

"BFF AU" is something I came up with just now to call Kit Doll's uh... Is it even an AU? Idk, Tails Doll just made Kit Doll because he wanted a friend! That's basically it. They're cute. :333

In case you couldn't tell, these are all kittails aus- with varying degrees between romantic and platonic. :>

[rochenn]

ohh hello there 🍈+ 🫐

Eyyy thank you! :D

🍈 Who’s your blorbo and what are some of your favorite headcanons/ideas about them that repeatedly show up in your fics? Free pass to rant about blorbo opinions.

Am I supposed to choose just one blorber? Cruel, but also LET'S FUCKING GOOOO

Dooku. Man. To get some technical stuff out of the way, I think he has a castle in the Serennian hills that isn't an egg-shaped chrome dome. A *really* nice one made of painted stones and wood. Old. Full of portraits of his ancestors and with a stupid whimsical garden that has only become more whimsical ever since he stopped hiring people to trim it. I also think he has a room full of traditional swords in there. Steel blades, all types of lengths and edges, and he knows how to wield each and every one of them to perfection. That room has been collecting dust for a while, though. It comes up in Gone with the Light and I'm VERY excited to write that segment! Hehe

And I just love his inner world - or lack thereof. Old fuck in a castle who can't seem to keep anyone around for one reason or another, but he never makes himself acknowledge the pattern that's so obviously there. His internal monologue is so tasty to write, partially because he's his only hypeman, and also because he has no idea who he is unless he forces himself into the Sith grindset. That way, he doesn't have to think about all the painful stuff so much. Between the genuine revolutionary intent of his younger days, his Jedi upbringing of even younger ones and his present holding on to Sith teachings for dear life, he is lost. There is so much MEAT to him and whatever the hell is going on inside that thick skull man <3 The loneliness and denial always comes up in some way

Also, a more basic headcanon: he's a BIG eater. That body needs a lot of energy even in his old age, considering its dimensions and what he does with it. Back when Qui-Gon hit his growth spurt they could hit a pantry the way the locusts hit the fields of Egypt - in contrast, Dooku deliberately under-eats in official company. Diplomatic dinners, long-winded negotiation meetings, the days he inevitably has to spend with Sidious, you name it. The Republic has an abundance of overly indulgent Senators and Count Dooku, leader of the Confederacy, very much does not want a reputation like Orn Free Taa's. Whenever we see him in canon there's a 50/50 chance of him being hungry as fuck (I am convinced of this because it amuses me greatly)

🫐 What’s your favorite underrated thing in your fandom? (A ship that only you seem to write for, a character there’s almost no fics about, a trope that criminally hasn’t been written yet, etc.)

DEFINITELY the Dooku & Asajj dynamic! It's the sort of juicy but under-developed part of canon that you'd expect to have a couple hundred fics, and among them some of those lifechanging longfics. You know the type. But tragedy strikes... we're not getting that for these two. There's barely anything. I am planning to rectify that because they make me insane and I need to drag more people into the insanity pit with me until the numbers add up. I swear I'm already following every single person who has ever been unwell about them in the character tags augh

Thank you for the ask! <3

[dolphingirl1234]

its time for more headcanons yippeeee

this is kwazii if you couldn't tell

I forgot to make his eye green but we can imagine

also I think his hair would be more red but I couldn't find the right colour

anyway no one cares so here are the headcanons:

early-mid 20's

trans ftm

he/him

he is possibly the gayest person to ever exist

he has heterochromia, the covered eye is brown and the other is green

bright red hair that's always messy

so many freckles

ADHD and dyslexia - he loves to complain about how things are spelled

wears whatever he finds of his floor

he is convinced he can handle spicy things but he really cant

he is definitely lactose intolerant but refuses to admit it and eats dairy anyway

has really bad gender dysphoria and tweak is king when it comes to helping him with it

he definitely purrs like a real cat but you can only hear it if you're really close to him

everyone in the crew knows his deadname but they're all very careful to never call him that

forgets everyone's birthdays every year

he lives by the 5 second rule and eats shit off the floor

^^^tweak once paid him to lick sugar that shellington spilt on the floor (he did it)

he definitely uses all the hot water and everyone hates him for it

he gets attached to things very easily and has a hard time getting rid of anything even if its just a pretty shell or something

^^^he keeps all his random stuff in the treasure chest next to his bed and adds to it constantly

he sometimes sneaks into barnacles' room to play with his model ships

he didn't come out for ages. when he first joined the crew he had no medical files bc of his backstory (I'm not gonna get into that right now, long story short he was an orphan) so peso had to make one and he asked for kwazii's legal name and gender at birth so he was kind of forced to come out, but he came out officially to peso later.

tweak was the first person he told officially and she was so chill about it and helped him make a binder because he was literally using tape before

barnacles seriously tried to be chill about it but kwazii could tell he had questions and he happily answered them

he was terrified to tell inkling because old people old mindset but when he did tell him, inkling was so supportive and kwazii cried

as well as arachnophobia he's also scared of needles but he doesn't tell anyone

barnacles is his dad and his best friend at the same time

peso is his little brother and his best friend at the same time

he has mild ptsd from something in his childhood. it doesn't affect him that much but dashi has more severe ptsd and she helps him through it

he LOVES hanging out with dashi and tweak and they love hanging out with him

he is always included in boys night but is also accepted into girls night because if he annoys tweak enough she gives him a tool and he can break stuff

one Christmas the crew had saved up their money all year and payed for his top surgery. tweak secretly got a job doing online stuff for her family friend and payed over half of the cost. kwazii cried and hugged her which she loved but hated at the same time

he's English but the accent mixed with the pirate voice makes it come out australian

he's not allowed catnip for obvious reasons

he hates when people gender clothes but he will not under any circumstances wear a dress

tominnow is also trans (mtf) and they're besties

he hates that creatures are scared of him because he's a pirate and has even considered giving up being a pirate because of it, but he realised its a part of his identity and he didn't want to change it

he loves making bracelets for the crew and everyone wears them sometimes, but barnacles wears multiple every day

dashi crochets and kwazii steal her yarn balls and she gets super pissed at him

he loves calico jack more than he lets on and he misses him constantly. every time he visits kwazii dreads when he leaves

he definitely plays 2048 cupcakes

tweak is his comfort person but he often goes to barnacles as well

maybe I should write a fanfic of kwazii coming out to everyone that would actually be fun

anyway that's all for now I will hopefully be back with some peso hcs tomorrow

[illuminatedquill]

Ghost Stories #01

Feat. Sabine Wren & Hera Syndulla

Story Context: Sabine tells Hera about her decision to be trained as a Jedi and is met with a cold reception.

"You're going to do what?" asked Hera, her voice almost a shout at the end.

Sabine blinked, taken aback at the Twi'lek's response. It was certainly not the one she had been expecting. They were sitting in the Ghost's communal area; outside, the constant buzz of machinery and maintenance tools from the ship crew could be heard as the old freighter underwent some much-needed repairs.

Feeling uneasy, Sabine leaned back in her seat and folded her arms. "I thought you'd be supportive," she said.

Hera massaged at her temples, grimacing. "And why would you think I'd be supportive of you being a Jedi?"

Feeling defensive, Sabine countered, "You were supportive when Ezra did it. And Kanan, too, when he decided to take up that mantle again. What makes me so different?"

"That was then. This is now," Hera replied. "This is not a good idea, Sabine."

Sabine narrowed her eyes at Hera. "Ahsoka seems to think so. You know, the actual Jedi."

"Former Jedi," Hera corrected. "And believe it or not, Ahsoka thinking so doesn't make me more convinced."

"What, you have an issue with her, too? You guys always seemed friendly to me."

"That was before Malachor," Hera shot back. "Where has she been all this time during the war? She hasn't said anything to anyone. She's different now. Less . . . I don't know, just less of herself, it seems."

Sabine couldn't argue with that. Talking with her master sometimes felt like trying to conversate with a rock. Whatever happened at that Sith Temple seemed to have robbed Ahsoka of her spirit; she seemed listless on some days, adrift from herself and others.

Desperately casting around for a change of subject, Sabine asked, "Where's Jacen?"

"With his grandfather on Ryloth," said Hera. "Don't try to change the subject, Sabine."

"Fine," Sabine snapped. "I don't understand why you're so hostile about this. It's my decision. I'm an adult. What are you going to do when Jacen starts showing an interest, huh?"

"I don't know!" Hera shouted, throwing her hands up. "I'm not - I'm not strong enough, okay?"

Sabine cocked her head at her friend. "What do you mean, 'not strong enough'?"

Hera hung her head. Hands clenching into fists, she suddenly banged them on the table. Sabine jolted in her seat from the abrupt display of anger.

"Hera?" asked Sabine quietly. "What's going on?"

"Kanan. Ezra. Ahsoka. And now - you," Hera muttered. "Maybe someday, even Jacen. I'm so sick of losing people. I'm not strong enough to lose you, too."

"Losing - what? You're not going to lose me like you did with Kanan, Hera. I promise. Ahsoka came back, too, even if she's not the same as before! She's still fighting! And Ezra's still out there."

Hera turned her face back to Sabine. The younger woman felt her heart twist, seeing the cascade of tears on the Twi'lek's face.

"You're already gone, don't you get it? I've lost you. Once you decide to take that mantle - when you add 'Jedi' to your name, it's over," Hera whispered miserably. "That's the truth of this galaxy, Sabine. Jedi die."

Sabine shook her head. "Kanan died. I know that still hurts for you. But I'm still here and I promise Ahsoka isn't going anywhere either. Neither is Jacen. I'll make sure of it myself. And I will bring Ezra back," she added fiercely.

Hera smiled bitterly. "It's better if you leave him out there. Even better if he's dead. Because if Ezra isn't dead, then that means the Force isn't done with him yet. That means Ezra is destined for more suffering. For more sacrifice and heartbreak."

The Twi'lek leaned forward, her eyes glassy with bottomless pain. "Leave him be, Sabine. Don't go looking for him anymore. If you love him at all, you'll let him go."

Sabine was silent. Then, in an icy tone, she replied, "You don't mean that, Hera. I know you don't."

Hera looked away, blinking rapidly. Then, quietly, she said, "You're right. I'm sorry."

She didn't know what to say to comfort Hera. It's clear her friend had been harboring some deep conflict over the fate of her Jedi loved ones. Sabine belatedly realized that her deciding to be a Jedi was, to Hera, probably adding to that conflict.

To that buried pain.

Jacen was destined to follow in his father's footsteps someday. Maybe Hera saw Sabine as a safe option - that she would never take up the mantle and responsibility one day and could be relied upon to never break her heart the same way that Kanan and Ezra did.

Sabine wondered if she ever had nightmares about burying her one day. Or Jacen. Or Ahsoka. Outliving them all.

She wanted to hug Hera in that moment so badly. But something in the Twi'lek's demeanor told her that it wouldn't be welcome.

She stood up and made to depart. "I'll let you get some rest, Hera. We'll talk later."

Still not looking at her, Hera gave the barest of nods in acknowledgement. Sabine turned to go -

"Sabine."

She paused at the hallway leading to the docking bay.

"Follow your heart. I'll always believe in you, no matter what."

Without turning around, Sabine said, "Thanks, Hera."

"Don't thank me," came the sad reply. "You're going to be a Jedi now. Just like Kanan and Ezra. I don't get to keep you anymore."

Sabine was quiet. Listening.

"You belong to the Force now. I know you'll do well. You always have. It's in your nature to rise and meet whatever challenges come your way."

Sabine felt touched by Hera's words, yet there was a chill in her blood from the solemn way she uttered them. Finally, she worked up the nerve to turn around and face her directly.

Hera just gazed at her, but not seeing her at all - seeing through her, was the better term.

Like she wasn't there.

Like she was already a ghost.

"You have an important role to play now, Sabine. And, just like the other Jedi I loved, you'll play it . . . to the very end."

*Author's Note: Hello! So, this is just a seed of a story. Sometimes, when I'm brainstorming ideas for Sabezra fics, I'll have these conversations/scenes between characters pop up in my head, out of context. I don't know if I'll ever include these in future fics but I've decided to just start writing them down and posting them here just to keep track of. I always have ideas bouncing inside my head for stories regarding Sabine, Ezra, and the Ghost crew in general, so there will be more of these little fic-lets, I guess the term is? Except these aren't really full-fledged stories. Just short scenes.

Anyway, the genesis for this is pretty simple: I've always been interested if Hera feels conflicted about all the Jedi in her life, seeing as though they've all been met with terrible fates. I find it odd that Hera in the Ahsoka series seems all onboard for Jacen training to be a Jedi, considering what happened to his father and Ezra (and Ahsoka, to a degree). As a mother, she has to feel some trepidation about encouraging Jacen to be a Jedi - especially in that day and age. And now with Sabine - someone who is like a daughter to her - resolving to take up the mantle of a Jedi, I wanted to write out a scene where all those buried negative feelings bursts forth. I'm realizing that this is probably veering Hera into out-of-character territory, but it makes for a really good, dramatic, and angsty conflict between her and Sabine.

[antianakin]

Is there a specific pro Jedi tag on AO3 that can be used to filter out anti and criticals? Cause I keep searching for Luke and Leia time travel fics where they save the galaxy and give Palpatine a headache (saving Anakin is potentially a bonus to those other two), but the vast majority are Jedi critical at LEAST.

... Speaking of, do you know any good time travel Luke and Leia fics where they save the galaxy, give Palps a headache (and maybe save Anakin cause Luke kept asking and Leia just decided to help on behalf of her own sanity)?

The main tag I was able to find seems to be "Jedi Appreciation" which includes things like "Jedi Order Respected", "Jedi Culture Respected," "Jedi Culture Appreciated", "Jedi Positive", "Jedi Order Positive", "Pro Jedi", and "Pro Jedi Order". I also found tags more specifically related to the Council, like "Jedi Council Appreciation" and "Good Jedi Council." I'm a TAD suspicious of the second one since the wording of it seems to lean more towards having adjusted the Jedi Council in order to BE "good" as opposed to recognizing they're ALREADY good, but it's potentially worth a look through to see (I found one that claimed to have some Yoda bashing and another saying "they are not the assholes in this story", as just two examples of why this particular tag might be suspect).

There's also the more basic "Jedi Culture & Customs" tag which is likely more of a mixed bag and doesn't necessarily promise POSITIVITY about the Jedi, just that it's EXPLORING Jedi culture and customs, so, you know, take it with a grain of salt.

Some other tags I found just in a basic search: "Jedi as Found Family", "Love Doesn't Equal Attachment", "Clone Troopers and Jedi as Found Family", and "Protective Jedi."

I will also say that it is critical for you as a reader NOT to blindly trust any of these tags. People can and do tag their fics with "Jedi Positive" or "Jedi Appreciation" and then it ends up with plotlines where the Jedi change their culture so that members can marry or they go the grey Jedi route where they realize they should be using both light and dark to find balance or whatever. As I mentioned above, too, it can sometimes mean they just rewrite the Jedi to be closer to what the WRITER thinks the Jedi should be and is now "positive" or it's being positive about the Order at the expense of specific Jedi like Yoda or Mace who are still bashed and vilified. Keep an eye out for other tags on the fic that might reveal more anti or critical elements and just be aware when reading the fic that there is no tag that is guaranteed to filter out EVERYTHING you don't want to read and be ready to hit that back button.

I don't tend to read a lot of time travel fics just in general and the ONLY fic I have read that involves Luke/Leia time traveling is there was a spring of storms by blackkat where Leia's grief in the moment of Alderaan's destruction causes her to reach out in the Force instinctively and propel her, Bail, and Luke back to shortly after the start of the Clone War. It's only 2 chapters in, however, so the story has barely started and I cannot guarantee anything about saving Anakin. With these two chapters, though, I can say that it is absolutely pro Jedi and probably not very Anakin positive. I personally really love this set-up and while it's remained unfinished for quite a while, the author has said in the past that if the fic is still up on AO3 then it's not abandoned, so I am still hoping for the day they come back to this one because it looks INCREDIBLE.

If anyone else has some pro Jedi recommendations for Luke/Leia time travel fics, feel free to let us know!

EDIT: The reason I had to search for tags is because I have never personally used them for myself to LOOK for fics. I usually have a ship or a dynamic that I get invested in and start looking for, find some authors I really like, and then go through all of their fics and bookmarks because if an author WRITES fic that's Pro Jedi, chances are they READ fic that's Pro Jedi too. And then you just rinse and repeat from there. Sometimes there'll be a tag like "X character needs a hug" or something I go through if I notice it pops up enough. I primarily use tags like the ones above as more of a screener when I'm looking through someone's bookmarks or a general ship tag search. I start by looking at the summary to try to figure out the actual premise of the fic and then once I decide I might be interested, I give the tags a scan to see if anything comes up that gives a better idea of what is in the fic that'll make me more interested or immediately back out. Like I said, many a fic has had "pro Jedi" or "Jedi positive" tags and still ended up in what I would consider to be closer to "Jedi critical" these days. A better guarantee for me is knowing that someone bookmarked this fic that has written fic I personally find to be pro Jedi, so that's the method I use.

[thenixkat]

[id: One comic panel showing Blue Beetle 2 in his chair in his ship talking over his shoulder to Batman standing behind him. Another man stands in the background behind Batman.

Batman: I'm giving you an order, Beetle. Beetle: I don't care. You want to go after Flame-Top in the Batplane or the Whirly-Bat or whatever, you do it. But the Bug's mine. And I say no. I'm not your subbordinate, Batman! I'm your teammate. With a mind--and conscience-- of my own. And I'm not doing anything just because you or anyone else says "Boo", okay? Let's go tend to our wounded and find a way to put that Parasite back on ice. Wasn't he being held at the Belle Reve* Prison in Louisiana?

Annotation box: *Secret HQ of the Suicide Squad. /end id]

Firestorm Annual

Just Ted 'Fuck the police, fuck the president, who the fuck do you think you are trying to control me?' Kord and Bruce 'Big Brother shit is ok when I do it and everyone needs to obey me b/c I'm right about everything' Wayne have many reasons to not get along. I want to see more of Ted Kord not giving two fucks about Batman trying to intimidate him into obeying him.

Cause he legit doesn't give a fuck when he's written decently.

Like, he's smarter than Batman. He managed to give Batman a decent fight with 3 handicaps of not being in the best shape, being brainwashed, and having an arrow in his thigh (as much as I loathe JLI that one story is on my list of decent Ted stories). And unlike Batman (when writers arent going out of their way to isolate him, fuck Countdown to Infinite Crisis) people like Ted and he's very good at persuading people to help him or join forces with him b/c they want to help him or working with him is demonstrably better than not working with him. He has many reasons to not be intimidated by Batman.

Also, Ted Kord/Blue Beetle 2 is very much not a superhero with a no-kill code. While he's not gonna go out of his way to kill people, he would off a bitch if he felt it was necessary and has depending on which comics you wanna look at. Batman would have issues with him on this.

(Jaime is the only Blue Beetle with a no-kill code. Ted, re above, And Dan has gone out of his way to intentionally try and kill some of his villains because they pissed him off. The only Blue Beetle I can reasonably see Batman being cool with is Jaime, and Jaime has reasons to not be cool with Batman.)

Just the whole Batman and Ted being fuckin besties in Batman the Brave and the Bold just irks me so much.

[breakfastteatime]

I keep thinking about the astrography of the Koboh system and I'm wondering if anyone's got any clear answer on on how Koboh, its moon, and Tanalorr/the Abyss behave in relation to each other. Can I ask what you think?

Because for the arrays to work, that specific part of Koboh and the part of the moon with the station both have to be facing Tanalorr. And of course they have to be close enough: Tanalorr can't have its own orbit like Mars or most of the time it'll be way across another part of that solar system, so I figure they've got to be binary planets, orbiting around each other and moving together around their star.

And, given that we see the Abyss in the sky over Ramblers' Reach in both daytime and nighttime, they've got to be tidally locked, or at least Koboh does. Otherwise you'd have to wait to activate the array until Koboh's orbit has come back around to face the Abyss at whatever time of day that is, and I don't think we say the Abyss move round the sky much, right?

So all that can be explained… but then I've got to wonder: How the hell can anyone, Empire idiots or otherwise, see a giant planet-size nebula spining around Koboh in a stable orbit, a nebula with the same gravitational pull as a planet, and NOT wonder "hey, what if there's something planet-sized in there?"

I know the answer is handwavey plot necessities and I'm overthinking things, but… there could be some interesting plotbunnies in there.

Has there been any talk about this anywhere that you've heard?

As always, love your work! <3

You are way, way, WAY smarter than I am. Wow!Just let me bask in your genius for a moment.

You're right - I don't think the Abyss moves... and oh, how I wish we could explore Koboh at night throughout the game!

I did mention in a "what do I want in Jedi 3" post a while back that Tanalorr is going to have to come under some kind of existential threat in the next game because all stories need jeopardy. We know the Empire is on Koboh and there's an entire Star Destroyer in the sky in the post-game of Survivor. They don't appear to be searching for anything in particular (I may have missed it, but I don't think the troopers say "hey, I hear that Jedi terrorist is lurking here somewhere!" unlike literally every Raider) so I don't think they're there for Cal specifically. More like Koboh's the next world on their galactic conquest. However, it's likely that the more they see, the more they will explore. We know from JFO that Palpatine wants relics of other Force cultures, so maybe he'll show an interest in what was left behind on Koboh...

We also know from the game's finale that the arrays overload and now the only way to get to Tanalorr is to 1) be a damn good pilot, and, 2) be a Jedi, or have one very close by, or 3) have a compass. So there's a really good chance that, with the Empire having a presence on Koboh, they'll notice all the comings and goings through the Abyss and start exploring... and exploding. You have to imagine initially Cal and co will be able to rely on anyone following them in getting 'sploded by the Koboh Matter, but what if someone gets lucky, gets through, and does find Tanalorr and alerts the Empire??? There's your jeopardy.

I hope they have lots of ships of Tanalorr and plenty of people to repaint them regularly to make the Empire think anyone going in there is also dying because they never see the same ship twice...

This is fun to think about!!! And makes me curious to know what the final game will do with this. Maybe it'll be a case of they decide to seal off Tanalorr for the safety of those there.... Maybe Cal does that and he stays behind... Maybe, maybe, maybe...

Thanks for the Ask, and the kind words! I better get back to some writing!!

[madsthebat]

If you don't mind, could I ask for some apple pie/hollocross thoughts/headcanons? :]

I'm very curious how you started shipping them and if you have ideas of how they would've gotten together in canon (or at least whatever "together" would mean for them lol)

and ofc feel free to throw in any HCs you have as well :D (v not forced)

OH MY GOSH THANK YOU I WILL NOT STOP YELLING ABOUT APPLE PIE.

Ok so I will admit part of it came from me just randomly trying to come up with fun ship names with @fruity-phrog . I came up with several for ships I don’t even personally ship. But then they came up with Apple Pie for Hollocross.

And then I started thinking about the implications.

Because they’re like. Both different sides of the same coin. Wilbur has people that know him, but he can never go back to living a normal life. Whereas Hollie can live her “normal” life, but not be truly known by anyone. That in conjunction with the fact that they have met several times in several timelines where they always seem fated to kill each other just was the perfect breeding ground for a forced proximity/fated mates/doomed romance story.

For them, I imagine “together” just means when they crossed that line from hatred to some sort of sembleance of care, of need for the other. I imagine in one timeline, they would have duked it out and hit a draw (for the moment. Eventually one of them would end ip victorious, just at a later date). Too exhausted, they’d call it a tie. And then because he had nowhere on this plane to go to, he’d swallow his pride and ask to crash on her couch for the night, just so he could theoretically lick his wounds before he left.

And then across several timelines they keep drifting closer like that. It feels like they’ve known each other for hundreds of years, hundreds of lifetimes. And you simply can’t know someone like that without some sort of attachment forming. Not for Wiley. Not for Hollie.

And now for assorted headcanons!:

• They have memories of the different timelines due to their relationship with the LiB. So they do in fact remember everything across the timelines while others do not.

• They’ve definitely had heart-to-hearts on Hollie’s couch in several timelines. He’s poured out his heart about John and PEIP, she’s lamented about her love of Duke and how she can never have him the way she wants; never be known the way she wants him to.

• Any time they’ve tried to break free of the narrative they’ve chained themselves too, it doesn’t work. Even if they try to not kill the other, to settle and be as close to normal as they can get, eventually one kills the other anyways. So they settled to never call what they have “love”, to never put any title on it. Why get attached if it’s not meant to be forever anyways, right?

• Wiley’s favorite pie is cherry pie (it used to be apple).

• Holloway started developing a touch of a southern twang to her voice from time spent around Wilbur.

• They make jokes and jabs and insults at each other constantly to cope with the knowledge that one of them is going to die.

• In timelines where Wilbur is the survivor, he almost never takes off her jacket. It’s all he has left of the person who made him almost feel normal.

• In timelines where Hollie is the survivor, she does anything she can to forget Wilbur, to just brush it off as another part of her past. But she still gets the night terrors. Maybe if she can exaggerate his evil, villanous nature in her head she can forget the care she had for him. Right?

Aaaaaaaand then I have my fankid aksjsks. I have various ideas for how she’d occur, and what she’d turn out like if she was raised by Wiley vs raised by Hollie. Buuuuut that’s another post lol.

THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME GET ON MY SOAP BOX

[iamheretoyell]

HEEEEEEEY

Whenever someone makes fan art for me, I wanna cry cause WHAT I LOVE Y'ALL WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LIKE MY STUFF ENOUGH TO WANT TO DRAW IT I'M JUST A SILLY LITTLE RAT IN A TRENCH COAT ATP

(my third meeting for today got cancelled and my payroll is basically done so I'm likely going to be extra loud on here for the next 2-4 business hours (after I finish catching up on this fic))

I CAUGHT UP AND AM DOING HOMEWORK ON FUCKING PARALLAXES LIKE WHAT

I kinda wanna work on Revelations... Ignoring the voices fr rn

3:55 update, guys they fucked around and made my homework like, fun??? --- specifically the kind of fun that my neurodivergent lore-hungry ass dies for. WHY DID THEY DO THAT?? WHY AM I MAD THAT I HAVE TO DO SHIT THAT ISN'T MY HOMEWORK RIGHT NOW????

5:49, I just want you guys to know, since the game has been concepted, I will randomly just think about the ships in it, especially now that they're all tagged, and I just laugh about the fact that I literally own majority of the ship tags. And like, another two of them, I am like one of the only people who actively writes them. And that's genuinely so fucking funny to me like I always get a laugh out of that.

Don't ask me where I got them because they wrote themselves. (Except for Damien/Brimmy, and yes, there is a huge rant about it ready for the day someone opens up the Pandora's box of "how the fuck did you get a ship out of that??" I mean, it also wrote itself, but in a completely different way and there is a very clear cut progression from me having no idea who the fuck Brimmy was literally not even a year ago to them being one of my favorite doomed ships to write.)

But I bring this up because I'm killing time and laughing over this at the moment.

BUT AT SOME POINT I DO WANT TO POST A POLL BC I GEN WANNA KNOW WHAT Y'ALLS FAVORITE SHIP THAT I HAVE (QUESTIONABLY) CREATED IS. LIKE I'M SO FUCKING NOSY BC I HAVE ONES THAT LIKE--- I love as I live and breathe. And then there are ones that just like, fit for the story, are me playing around with dynamics bc I take nothing seriously and sometimes I just do that, or some other random fucking reason I've put a ship together (for example, the ship isn't even real, they're just being forced together for the sake of a manufactured story within a story, and this example is so not super specific and has nothing to do with anything I've ever written, am writing, or will write in the future).

I got off topic. Whatever. I'm taking my leave to go act like a village idiot because it's literally halloween.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE.<3

I MAY OR MAY NOT COME BACK TO DRUNKENLY POST--

Holy shit it's Friday tonight????

Let's fucking go I guess???

ANYWAYS MAY OR MAY NOT COME BACK TO DRUNKENLY POST AN ANSWER LATER.

Also p.s. if anyone's actually reading An Answer,

A. do you want to beta???? pretty please????

B. did you fall into my trap??? are you completely put off by the creek in it yet??? wait idk how far I even am post wise. WHATEVER MY POINT STANDS BC IT'S NOT EVEN JUST THE CREEK. ARE YOU PUT OFF BY THE STORY AND THE WAY IT'S BEING TOLD AND THE WAY THE CHARACTERS ACT?????

I really fucking hope so cause that's like the whole point LMAOOOO LIKE An Answer was so experimental on my part which in hindsight was maybe a bad idea because like-- we rarely get Mysterion being the villain and I was like

oh let me try something I've NEVER done before!!!

hope it carries!!!

but in the same breath, I don't really care because it will never be that serious and Kenny is also the villain in the Trin series. Maybe. Questionably. Kind of. At some point.

AND WITH THAT I'VE ACTUALLY SAID TOO MUCH BYE FOR NOW<3

[tiny-maus-boots]

Queen of Hearts pt 18

A/N: It's been awhile for this one. I was a little bit kinda sorta life threateningly sick so I had some time to complete this. Thank you as always to @chloes-yellow-cup and @kimmania for listening to the hcs that eventually become real stories. i love you awesome nerds.

18 Aggression Factor

“Jesus, this is a fucking nightmare.”

Aubrey nodded her agreement at the thought and leaned back in her seat. The leather creaked softly, the only counterpoint to Beca's soft comment. They had gone to the docks, and on the surface in the full light of day everything appeared on the up and up. But just a little digging after business hours had uncovered a nest of nastiness that she didn't yet know what to do with.

“We have to do something Aubrey. We can't just let all those women suffer. Some of them were just girls…”

Aubrey didn't say anything for a long time. She was sickened by what she and Beca had seen. But it all made sense now. Everything that Weston had been involved in was suddenly and disgustingly clear. Weston had been using his connections with the Russian mob to traffick women as play things for the rich and elite.

“We can free them all tonight. But then Roman and his crew close down shop here and open up somewhere else.”

“They're going to do that anyway now that they've killed Grant's kid. The kid was nothing to them or his father. By morning all those girls will be shipped and held somewhere else.”

And if Beca were to go to her superiors now she would sidelined by the wheels of bureaucracy before anyone could save those women. Her thumbs tapped lightly on the steering wheel as she turned the problem over in her head. She couldn't see any way to help the innocent victims immediately that would stop the operation entirely. She had to choose. Save who she could now or let them and countless others suffer until she and Beca could maybe find a way to dismantle an entire organization and see that justice was served to the people behind it all. 

“All those rich pricks are going to get off scott free from this, aren't they?”

Detective Mitchell looked away and sighed deeply. It bothered her as much as it bothered Aubrey. When they had started this working arrangement it had been because Aubrey wanted someone on the Force that was in her pocket. In truth it could have been any cop, and quite a few that had less compunction about taking her money to look the other way. But she had needed Beca Mitchell in particular.

It had been late when Beca had pulled into the big bay doors of the abandoned warehouse. But dead of night seemed about right for whatever was about to happen. She pulled the rusted old Nova into a cleared space and got out of the car warily. 

Happy and Lilly were stood menacingly and armed to either side of a seated figure lost half in shadow. Somehow Aubrey managed to be the most terrifying of them all, calmly waiting for Beca's arrival with the patience of a large predator. Smoke curled in a lazy tendril around Aubrey’s head and she casually dropped the butt of her cigarette to the floor and ground it out with her shoe as she rose.

“Did you bring him?”

“In the trunk. It'll be a miracle if he survived carbon monoxide poisoning back there. I think the catalytic converter fell off this bucket somewhere on Imperial.”

Aubrey nodded and Happy and Lilly moved to pull their guest out of the trunk of Beca’s unmarked police car. She put a hand into her suit jacket and pulled out an envelope of cash and tossed it to the Detective. Beca caught it and counted the cash half distracted by the none too gentle way her cargo was being dragged and strapped to a dusty work table.

“So look. I know the deal here. You make moves and I follow them. In the end I make some money and really shitty people get what they deserve. I'm oddly on-board with meting out punishment in non legal ways when its due. But this guy? He's nothing. Some B&E, some minor theft. A bar fight. On paper this guy is no one.”

And she had looked. Beca might be okay with playing things a little loose with the law for Aubrey but she wasn't going to do it blindly. She had pulled Mervin Evans’ jacket and read through his past charges before she picked him up and shoved him into her trunk. He wasn't a great guy but he wasn't horrible either.

The blonde glanced away from Mervin and pinned Beca with a cold stare. She wasn't afraid of Posen exactly, but she was a fan of exercising caution around an unpredictable variable. Asking too many questions could easily land her on the table next to Mervin.

“On paper you're an officer of the law and I'm a hardworking, law abiding, businesswoman.”

“Touche.”

Aubrey slid the suit jacket from her shoulders and hung it neatly from a hanger. There was a deliberateness about the way the other woman removed her cufflinks and watch and placed them in the pocket of her jacket. Beca swallowed hard when Aubrey rolled up the sleeves on her shirt and strode to the table with echoing steps. 

“You can leave now, Detective. The kitchen is gonna get hot.”

Beca narrowed her eyes at the subtle challenge. Okay sure watching Aubrey tug on leather gloves before picking up a thin steel bar and hefting it lightly in hand was alarming. But if she left now without questioning this was she really the person she thought she was? 

“You implying I can't hack the job?”

Aubrey chuckled softly and placed the bar on the table near Mervin's head. For the most part he had been sort of out of it, too many bumps in the road on the way over. He groaned and his head lolled to the side. He just stared at the bar for a moment in dazed confusion before recognition dawned on him and he started to struggle. Happy slapped him hard a few times to settle him and Beca shifted uncomfortably.

“I'm not implying anything. I'm out right telling you. You ain't got it, kid. Now beat it before you realize how dirty your hands really are.”

Whether she meant to or not Aubrey had issued a challenge that Beca couldn't ignore. She had to take a stand one way or the other. Even if it might get her killed.

“I need to know what he did, Posen. He's too small of a fish in our great big pond to deserve whatever it is you're planning.”

Aubrey picked up a torch striker and gave it an experimental squeeze to text the way it sparked. She nodded in approval before using it to point at a wide eyed and gagged Mervin.

“You're right. He's a little fish, but he's no Nemo. He's a remora.”

“Wait. Like those fish that eat shark leftovers or whatever? Where the fuck is this going?”

Aubrey lit the acetylene torch standing at the head of the table with the striker. Mervin jumped and tried to struggle but the straps around his body held him fast. She was methodical about the way she heated the end of the bar, leaving the fire on the tip until it glowed a white hot.

“Hm. Something like that. Remoras feed on shit. And this little shit eating fishie is feeding from a shark I don't want in my water.”

“I'm guessing we aren't talking a cute friendly reef shark.”

Aubrey inhaled deeply and closed her eyes for a moment. Beca was used to seeing the action and knew that the person she respected most was about to do something that she felt needed to be done. Aubrey was violent and practical to brutality but it was never without a reason. When she opened her eyes and looked at Beca there was a hollow void where most people had a soul. 

“Someone is taking women from MY streets. Teenagers, Mitchell. Young women are being stolen and sold and this stronzo, this oh so little fish, is the one finding them for his master. And do you know what he does to them? He brands them so they know who they belong to. And now I'm going to mark him.”

Aubrey raised the brand and moved to bring it close to Mervin's arm. Only Beca's shaking hand on her wrist stopped her. 

“Wait…wait…”

Whatever was going on in the Detective's head was a struggle Aubrey did not envy. Her job was simple. She did what she needed to and she didn't have to play by anyone's rules but her own. Mitchell on the other hand lived with a foot in two worlds, there were lines she couldn't cross with the same ease Aubrey did. 

Lines she shouldn't cross because she had people in her life that would never understand. Detective Mitchell had a family. Brothers and sisters and two of the most loving people as parents that chose Beca and saved her from a life in the system. Aubrey had done her research on Beca long before she ever approached her. She knew all her triggers and all her secrets. She knew them all and played on them to get what she wanted. Just like she was playing on that now. 

“Are you asking me to spare him? Do you think he spared those girls he stole and hurt? Do you think if I let him  go now he'll stop and change his ways and never touch another person's daughter…or sister?”

The look in Beca's eyes was terrible to behold. A leviathan of disgusted rage rose in the deep blue depths and if Aubrey were being honest, she was proud to see it and bothered that she had to be the one to invoke it. Hate boiled beneath the surface when Beca gripped the brand in her own hand and pressed it down with a scream on Mervin's forehead. 

Aubrey felt nothing as she watched him writhe and howl in pain behind his gag. She felt nothing when Mitchell flung the brand away and staggered drunkenly to the door outside to retch on the hard black macadam lot. She gave Mervin a disinterested look and nodded to Happy and Lilly to finish the work. They would without question or conscience and she appreciated that.

But it wasn't what she needed.

Aubrey stepped outside and knelt by Beca heaving on all fours. She reached out a tentative hand to rub the other woman's back soothingly and wasn't surprised to be shrugged off. She had pushed too far. Beca tried to scramble away, tears running down her face freely but Aubrey gathered her as easily as a child and held her while she struggled with what she had just done.

“I'm sorry Mitchell. Sorry I goaded you into it because I didn't like being questioned. Because I felt like a point needed to be made.”

“I'm gonna hork again.”

Aubrey eased away and let Beca rise on shaky feet. The way the Detective looked at her would haunt her at night when she was alone and the horrors of her life replayed themselves on repeat. Anyone else would have looked away from the accusation and revulsion. Aubrey stared back, evenly, accepting who and what she was now. She hadn’t always been this. Once it had affected her too.

“I threw up my first time too.”

“Jesus Christ, Posen. This work is fucking evil. The people that do this are fucking evil.”

You're fucking evil.

Beca didn't say it. She didn't have to. Aubrey rose and brushed the dirt off her neatly pressed slacks. Yes. She was. She nodded at the unspoken statement and smoothed her tie.

“I'm no saint, that's true.”

Something flickered in Beca’s eyes and she looked away from Aubrey. The blonde slid hands in her pockets and considered for a moment.

“I might be the devil.”

The detective turned to eye her quickly. Measuring her worth with a skill that only cops had.

“You're not the devil. You're fucking awful sometimes but you're not the devil Posen. You're trying to do a job with the only tools you have and its sick work but maybe some of it has to be done.”

“I'm a weapon, Detective. My purpose is pain and order and I am very good at it. Who I inflict pain on is how I sleep at night.”

Beca nodded and turned away to stare at the moon above. Her voice was raw and tight as she struggled to contain her emotions.

“Lesson learned. Don't question you if I don't want to become an unfeeling weapon.”

Aubrey hesitated and looked up to the moon as well. No one questioned her. Ever. Even before her father had passed and her work was new, no one had questioned the way she handled business. And perhaps that was why she was the monster she was today.

“I need you to keep questioning me, Mitchell. Even if I hate it.”

Beca glanced at her quickly again, eyes wide with surprise. Aubrey sighed deeply.

“There are lines even I shouldn't cross and I don't know if I recognize them anymore.”

“What are you asking here? You want me to be your Jiminy?”

Fatigue set in making her shoulders hunch with the weight of so many misdeeds. Seeing Detective Mitchell break down, seeing her feel something, had shown her how far removed she was from humanity. And it scared her.

“I don't flinch, Bec. Humans should flinch when they do terrible things. They should feel it in their soul. I feel nothing.”

“Jesus. You're really asking me to help you be human?”

Her lips quirked in a quick grin. If anyone could help her find her humanity again it was Beca Mitchell. Perhaps the only person alive not afraid to tell her to fuck off. 

“I just want to be a real girl.”

“Great, fantastic, maybe you can start by taking a crack at that work life balance thing. Take a night off…and don't fucking call me.”

She had taken that advice to heart and gone to a poker game hosted by a friend. Aubrey smiled softly at the memory of spending four hours letting the most gorgeous creature she had ever seen win every single dollar she had brought and her heart to boot.

Beca had been right then and she was right now. Aubrey inhaled deeply knowing she was going to end Roman and his business but Weston's friends would still be safe to continue doing what they wanted. And she wouldn't be able to do a damn about it. 

“I need to make an example of Ekzarova and make it very costly for his organization to run that line of business.”

“Too costly to be worth the effort.” Beca watched her careful nod of agreement before speaking again. “Richie Rich's friends are a lost cause aren't they?”

“For now. Yes. They have more money and resources than I do. So for now, until I can find out the right leverage on them, they skate on this.”

“We still have the proof on those drives.”

“If you thought that was enough to nail them for this you would have used it a long time ago. We both know it'll get buried and you'll find yourself out of a job.”

“And Alice?”

Alice Alice Alice. Aubrey hadn’t allowed herself to think about her ex girlfriend. She was afraid the rage would overwhelm her good sense and she would do something sloppy enough to get her caught.

“For her part in what happened to Happy? For putting her hands on Stacie…”

She gave Beca a look that didn't mask the well of darkness in her soul at the thought of ending Alice.

“She needs to be made an example of too or they'll send another just like her. But you know. Competent.”

“You asking me to cross lines Jiminy?”

“No I'm outright telling you we are going to cross lines. A lot of them.” 

“Bec…”

“Don't Aubrey.”

“You're a cop.”

She felt it bore a mention. Beca was rapidly approaching a point where there would be no turning back. She had a life and family she could easily lose.

“For what though? Did cops stop my alcoholic father from beating my crackhead mother to death in front of my face? Did cops take me out of the foster system and put me in a safe home where I felt loved for the first time in my life? I'm sorry was it the cops that found the gang banger that murdered my older brother for trying to protect a store clerk? Are cops doing anything at all to protect any of these women? No. Man…fuck the police. They are part of a system of abuse and I'm done Aubrey. I'm fucking done. You know who was there to save me? People. Just fucking good people. And a goddamn murdering mobster might be the best one of them. So don't fucking tell me what I'm losing. The answer is nothing. I lose nothing but the shame of being part of the problem.”

“Okay.”

What else could she say? Aubrey reached out a balled fist and held it steady. Beca looked at her and bumped their knuckles together. 

“I don't think I'll ever be a real girl if I lose myself in this, you know that right? What I'll have to do to end this whole thing…”

Beca's tone gentled and she looked at Aubrey with something the blonde had never seen in the Detective's eyes before. Pride.

“Aubrey, this only makes you that much more human and real.” 

They sat there a minute longer while she let that sink in. Somehow, somewhere, she had changed. Because of Beca.

“So you gonna be my best man or what?”

Mitchell was right. Fuck the police. If they were going scorched earth then it wouldn't matter who stood by her at her wedding. And she really couldn't think of anyone she wanted more at her shoulder.

“Do I get to bang hot bridesmaids?”

“No guarantee but there is an open bar and a hot doctor among the guests.”

Beca sighed heavily as if she were making a huge sacrifice at not being able to sleep her way through the wedding party. But Aubrey could see she didn't really mean it.

“Yeah alright. I guess I can rock a suit for a day. Maybe I can pass out and Doc Beale can give me some mouth to mouth.”

Beca winked at her and slid out of the car with a chuckle. The door slammed, leaving her to sit in the quiet car park alone. She had a lot to prepare and she needed to do it quickly. But right now the only thing she could focus on was getting back to Stacie to find a little peace before she burned the world to the ground.