#i'm a little obsessed with this au concept not gonna lie

[kanerallels]

For @laughingphoenixleader, who requested Kanej in a superhero/villain au

(tw for vague mentions of drug deals and human trafficking, though there's nothing explicit)

The streets of Chicago were clogged with criminals. One couldn’t take a step without seeing a carjacking, a drug sale, a mugging. It was the perfect place for a criminal enterprise to begin and flourish.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone, then, when someone other than the corrupt law enforcement rose up to stop them.

The Wraith. No one had seen her face, but everyone knew the name. A figure in dark clothing, using knives and carrying out judgment against the traffickers and the dealers before disappearing into the shadows again. Those who used humans as a commodity seemed to be the biggest targets.

Which was lucky for the city’s latest big player.

“Kaz Brekker,” Inej murmured, studying the blurry image on the computer screen. He looked young, though how old she couldn’t tell with the quality of the photo. All that was really obvious was dark clothing and hair, a pale face, and the cane in his gloved hand. Both of which look…familiar.

“Why is he on our radar?” she asked Nina, who was slouched in the wheeled chair in front of the computer.

The young woman shrugged. “Possibly because he’s the main suspect in seventeen different robberies, but no one’s been able to prove it. Or because his right hand man shoots like no human being should be able to. There’s also the fact that he sprouted up out of nowhere overnight. Looks like he took control of Per Haskell’s gang, but he was there all along. We just didn’t see him until now.”

Inej frowned. “Why?”

Getting up from her chair, Nina headed towards the kitchenette in the corner of the basement room Inej used as her headquarters. “Probably because he didn’t want to be seen. And you’ve had other, bigger problems on your mind. Toaster waffle?”

Absently, Inej waved her off, mind spinning. Kaz Brekker. If his plan was to set himself up as the crime lord of the city, that could be a problem. Especially if he was as good as Nina said he was. “I might have to pay him a visit,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

Nina answered anyway as she popped two waffles into the toaster. “Just do me a favor and don’t get stabbed. I have class tonight, and stitching you up doesn’t actually count as homework.”

Despite her cavalier words, Inej could hear the concern hiding behind them, and she smiled. “I’ll be careful, Nina. I promise.”

The other woman didn’t look overly comforted, but nodded all the same.

Later that night, after Nina had cajoled her into eating and resting, then swept off to her night class at Ravka University, Inej slipped out of her civilian clothes and into her suit. It wasn’t quite Superman quality, but the clothing was comfortable and good for sneaking and climbing. She checked to make sure her knives and gear were all secure, and set off into the night.

Brekker seemed to have set up shop at the Crow Club downtown. Inej knew of the place, but Per Haskell—the former owner—had never caused enough trouble for her to have risked the trip, not yet. She’d had bigger prey to track.

Slipping in was a simple matter. One of the windows was unlocked, and Inej eased through into what looked like an office. A desk lined with papers and books stood in the middle, with a cot pushed up against one wall. Does Brekker live here?

A key clicked in the lock, and Inej ghosted into a dark corner, keeping her steps quiet and smooth. A second later, the door swung open, and Kaz Brekker stepped inside, limp obvious, cane swinging.

She caught the barest glimpse of pale skin and high cheekbones before his back was to her, standing at the desk. His movements precise, he flipped through a file, gloved fingers tapping against the outside.

The tapping paused, and his head lifted a little. Then he spoke, his voice rasping and rough.

“The Wraith, I presume.”

How did he know I was here? Inej brushed aside the surprise. There was no use in pretending now. She moved out of the shadows, and Brekker turned to face her.

Inej’s heart skipped a beat. Not for any silly, romantic reasons—though the young man facing her was handsome enough, in a severe way. He was all sharp angles and dark shades, his dark brown eyes taking her in like she was a problem to be solved.

No, the reason her heart skipped a beat was because she knew him.

She hadn’t known his name at the time. But they’d met once, years ago. Before Inej became the Wraith, before she’d escaped the life that had driven her to take this path.

The police had found her. An undercover cop, Detective Nazyalensky, had made contact, and promised her that if she informed on Heleen and her entire organization, she would go free. Inej had been going to meet her the day of the bust when Heleen had summoned her into her office.

She’d known. Inej was sure of it, and if she went into that office, she would be beaten, or sold, or worse. Fear had threatened to choke her, and she’d wavered. Should she run? But she wouldn’t have made it, not if Heleen wasn’t distracted.

And then he’d walked in. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen, but carried himself like a full grown man. But he didn’t look at the girls as he came in, and that struck Inej as curious. The other customers ogled freely.

Maybe he wasn’t a customer. Perhaps he was one of the information dealers who came to Heleen for what the girl’s customers knew. In which case…

She moved toward him quietly, her feet brushing the floor. He was standing at the door of Heleen’s office, facing away from her when she said, “I can help you.”

He’d been startled when he turned to face her, though it faded quickly. He’d lifted an eyebrow, looking a little curious when Heleen’s voice had rung out from the office.

“Enough hiding, little lynx! I said I wanted to see you, and I want to do it now.”

Inej had flinched, unable to prevent the visions flooding her mind. The boy facing her frowned, just a little. Then, he’d spoken. Not to her, but to Heleen.

“You have an appointment to keep with me, Heleen. Haskell won’t wait forever.”

Grumbling, Heleen had appeared at the office door and waved for the boy to follow her in. Before he moved away, the boy had looked at her. “Don’t let them see your tell,” he’d said, voice too quiet to Heleen to make out. “And don’t look back.”

He’d entered the office, and Inej knew. It was time to run.

And so she did. She made it, and Heleen was locked up 24 hours later. Inej was free, and it was thanks to the actions of a stranger.

He had, whether he knew it or not, been the reason she’d gotten away, the reason she’d been able to tell the police everything.

His eyes narrowed a little as he looked at her, and for a second Inej thought, He knows. But then—no. He couldn’t. Her face was covered, and it had been close to four years since her escape.

“And you’re Kaz Brekker,” she said, keeping her voice cool. Business like. “The newest boss on the block.”

“Here to stop me?” Brekker asked, an eyebrow going up. “Bring me to justice like the Black Heretic? The Lantsov family?”

“The police took the Lantsov family,” Inej said, and Brekker snorted.

“The police in this town couldn’t solve their way out of a cardboard box. You handed them the arrest.”

He’s smart. “How do you know that?”

“I make it my business to know.” Folding his hands over his cane, he said, “So, what have I done to merit your attention? I thought I’d kept a fairly low profile.”

“You haven’t done anything. Yet,” Inej said, letting her hand rest on the knives at her waist. Brekker’s gaze followed the movement for only a heartbeat before locking back onto her masked face.

“Ah. Threatening me into submission. Interesting method. Unfortunately for you, I have plans that can’t be put on hold. And you don’t kill anyone unless what they’ve done meets your criteria.”

Inej wouldn’t show her surprise. “You’ve done your research.”

“It’s good to know who I’m dealing with. And to know how you intend to be rid of me.” Continuing, he said, “If you were going to kill me, I’d be dead. Everyone you don’t kill gets handed over to the police, and there’s nothing on me for the police.” The thinnest sliver of a smile appeared. “So, Wraith, your threats are to no avail.”

Oh, he could be dangerous. “Then consider this an appeal to your better nature,” Inej told him.

He laughed, sharp and bitter. “I don’t have one.”

“You have common sense. Don’t give me a reason to come after you, and I won’t.” Inej met his gaze, hoping he would see the intent in her eyes.

He was still for a moment, then inclined his head. “Then perhaps I will see you again, Wraith. Or perhaps not. We’ll see what your code dictates.”

Without another word, he turned back to his desk. Inej hesitated for a fraction of a second, then slipped out the window. Activating the ascension cable she wore strapped to her wrist, she fired it and swung out across the city. She needed to find somewhere to think before her nightly patrols began.

She had a feeling then that she would meet Kaz Brekker again. And she truly didn’t know if she hoped for it or dreaded it.

[trashogram]

Always nice to meet a fellow Toon Patrol and overall WFRR lover!!! I'm just-kit-ink on tumblr, my OC is a human animation college student who runs into the weasels toon weasels 40 years after the events of the first movie. At first they don't get on due to values dissonance since she hates guns and doesn't trust law enforcement, and a misunderstanding (they work for the good side in this story but they don't have any plans to be nice about it) and they were chasing her down to take her into custody basically.

But as things go on, she loves cartoons so much she can't be that mad at them, not even when they lie to her. They start to feel weirdly....guilty??? Over lying??? To some kid??? What is this disgusting feeling??? Caring??? Yuck!

Things warm up when she saves them from some DIP and uses her ink and paint skills to repair a part of Smartass' arm when it splashes on him. He doesn't want to admit he likes this girl and her tenacity and motivation for revenge. Let's just say if a guy stands her up or humilates her publically or endangers her in any way she's got five very dedicated little rascals who will gladly find out where he lives on Smartass' orders.

Also as for your Reader stuff, how would the patrol react to a non-American human lady with an obsession with the ocean, animals and cinema? 😂

Oooh, I like your concept! Love that your OC is almost like a toon-medic in a way, able to “graft” limbs back onto characters. I’d be super interested to know too how the timeline changes with the WFRR universe this way! It would be like 1987 in your AU, yeah? That’s so fun to think about!

Hmm, a non-American human lady… tbh I’m not sure how you feel about combining time period realism? I feel like the Toon Patrol would treat any woman (unless she was an adversary like Dolores in the movie) with “benevolent sexism”. I personally don’t mind exploring that, especially since they’re villains. If that’s not gonna float your boat though, I like to imagine they all kinda scavenge here and there to cater to her interests — I’m imagining Stupid and Psycho dragging in a giant toon whale bc she likes the ocean 😅

[thompsborn]

Happy FFWF! Care to share a bit of/about what you've got in the works? An excerpt, an impassioned ramble, whatever you want

okay so this is a rough draft. like a ROUGH rough draft. like more of a concept scene where i'm just putting down ideas for how i want to write this fic while i plot out the actual fic and then i'll come back to this and see if i can work it into the real thing. but i still love it.

i've been wanting to do a storm chasers au for so long it's actually insane because i am a fucking huge weather nerd and i've already answered a ffwf ask rambling way too much about tornadoes and shit before (which you can find here if you wanna read it) so i won't do that here but just know i definitely could go on about it for a very long time but for context: storm chasers au.

here we go.

-

He's so absorbed in the video that he doesn't notice her standing there. At least, he doesn't notice until he feels someone kick at his ankle, managing to hit him right on the bone and making him hiss in pain as he whips his head up to glare at her.

She gives him a pointed look. With a huffed out sigh, he reaches up to tug his headphones off and asks an aggravated, "What?"

"Jesus," Michelle says, rolling her eyes as she plops herself into the chair across from her, looking mostly amused and a little bit confused. "Don't bite my head off, Parker. You're the one who asked me to meet you here." He slumps back in his seat, offering her a small apologetic smile, which she responds with with a half hearted shrug before eyeing his laptop warily. "Are you gonna tell me what's going on? Or maybe why I'm here in the first place?"

Immediately, he brightens, shoulders straightening as he leans forward. "Okay," he says, already reaching forward to spin his laptop around in order to show her the screen. "So, Ned and I found this video last night, and then we found out the guy who posted it has, like, ten other videos, and I've been watching them all day, and there are so many things I want to tell you about them, but just - look."

Curiosity overshadows that wariness as she leans closer, bringing up a hand to press play before watching with a furrow to her brows. It only takes a few moments before that furrow disappears, eyebrows instead shooting up, nearly disappearing behind the hair falling over her forehead, glancing over to Peter with slightly wide eyes. "That's..."

"Absolutely mind blowing," he finishes. "It's insane. And that person did it on purpose. Like, in the descriptions for his videos it says that he's working on getting a masters degree in meteorology, so he's either our age or, like, barely older than us, which makes sense because when you listen he sounds pretty young, and he's chasing after these massive supercells like they're nothing."

"Impressive," she murmurs, eyes returning to the screen once again, even more attentive as she watches. "

Peter nods, the action way too energetic for six fourty seven in the morning - he reaches for his coffee, but starts talking before he can take a drink, rendering the action useless. "Impressive doesn't even begin to cover it, especially if he really is our age. There's another video that I was watching earlier where he spotted a pretty strong rotation less than a mile away from him and drove until he was practically under the damn thing, which was honestly kind of stupid 'cause it could have turned into something pretty big and dangerous, you know? But he just kept saying that it was fine and that he had time before it was on the ground, and he drove off, like, a minute before the actual tornado fully formed. Whoever this guy is, he's not just smart, but he's clearly got plenty of experience being around these storms to make these incredible educated guesses about them, which is even more impressive considering how unpredictable they're capable of being. I'm a little bit obsessed, not gonna lie."

At that, Michelle looks away from the laptop, this time turning to Peter with something knowing and suspicious mixing together in her eyes. Cautiously, she asks him, "What did you do?"

"I..." Peter trails off, already looking sheepish, not even trying to hide the fact that he did anything at all. Averting his gaze, he takes a long drink from his coffee, glances back at her, and looks away again before reluctantly admitting, "I might have sent him an email. At, like, two thirty in the morning. And he might have already responded. His name is Harley, by the way."

Michelle sighs, shaking her head. "Of course you did."

[lunuanaki]

Your favorite ship. I'm talking about the one that gives you the butterflies and happy feel good feelings. Talk to me about that. I wanna know what your brain words say about it. :)

THANK YOU, SYN, FOR SENDING ME THIS MESSAGE WHEN NO ONE ELSE WOULD because probably they know what’s going to happen and they don’t want any part of it---  *glares at entire dash like that one picture of the assmad cartoon pig*

I’m going to cut this because it’ll definitely get long, but... if you wanna know what kind of ships I would throw myself in front of a ruby dragon for, you’re boutta find out... I’m gonna explain it for the unfamiliar as well, though. So I get to talk more. I don’t know how anyone on this website could dislike this ship. Fight me. Anyone who reads this and agrees gets the warm fuzzy feeling of my everlasting favour. 

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

It’s Velka and Gwyndolin, is anyone surprised?! Nahhh... BUT LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THEM BC I BET YOU DONT KNOW EM?!For those unfamiliar with Dark S//ouls, Gwyndolin is the youngest child of the Great Lord Gwyn, God of War/Sun/Lightning, all that big noisy man stuff. Gwyndolin was born weak and fragile and corpse-white, so, realising he wasn’t much of a trophy child, Gwyn raised him as a girl. Gwyn’s rejection never quite sat well with him, though - he’s always been insecure about his appearance and how others interpret it. He hates being stared at, and has been known to kill servants who aren’t careful where they look. Actually, he’s not fussy about murder in general, but he does have a strong sense of who deserves it and who doesn’t.Gwyndolin’s talents lie in moon-related magic and archery. As an adult, he still presents as female, he’s still horribly weak in a physical sense, paper-white, and for unspecified-in-canon reasons, has six or eight snakes where his legs should be (he still has legs, but the snakes tend to boost him off the floor). I’m not going to link any images. Picture white silk, gold, delicate, intricately made bows and faintly glowing arrows, and a gold mask he hides his face behind that mimics the shape of the sun his dad is so obsessed with.His canon personality is cold and apathetic; this is no tragic princess to be rescued. Suggest as much, or try to cross him, and he will kill you where you stand, with a shot so fast you’d never see him draw the arrow, or raise his staff. He leads a covenant of followers who hunt down sinners. As proof that they killed for their master, these followers tear off their victim’s ear and bring it to his doorstep for his approval. He’s pure grace and moonlight, and the definition of the phrase “glass cannon”. He knows his place, and even though he will never be a true part of Gwyn’s family, at least to his father, he works to support them. You can kill him in-game; if you do, the sun will go out. It was an illusion. The sun went out in Anor Londo centuries ago; Gwyndolin has been maintaining the false image of its better days, as a comfort to visiting Undead, even though it must grate at his soul to do it. His title is Dark Sun. This is not his natural habitat. 

Velka. Velka is a name, and a concept. That’s all we get in-game. She appeared in the third game as a statue (that confirmed my headcanon appearance for her to be spot on). Her title is Goddess of Sin. She’s known for being sneaky, “eccentric witch”, difficult, changeable. Gwyn’s friendship with her was always rocky; she could see his pride and his self interest, and he knew she waited for the day he met her judgement. Flames help him; after the massacre of the dragons, if he ever knelt at her feet, it would be the last thing he did. If Gwyn is the sun, she is the darkness waiting for him to sink below the horizon. Her covenant are absolvers of sin, for a price, their faces covered to separate them from the material world. She has no concept of the Christian idea of sin, because that just doesn’t exist in Lordran. Sin is decided based on her moral compass - conflicting philosophies, like the Way of White, might claim she has none, because she sees no inherent sin in drinking, or sex, or gambling, as long as no ill intent or effect is there. She only wears black, silver, and that one splash of red, the wedding ring from the husband she outlived. She was human once; not a born Lord like Gwyndolin. That mortal vitality is still about her; she never had the luxury of living without the concept of death. Picture extremely long, thick black hair (that she’s famous for in game), crystal-clear lavender eyes, blood red lips, porcelain-coloured skin and purple dark circles, lace and velvet. Her mother taught her to scheme and spy her way up. Gwyndolin was naturally suspicious of her at first, as he should have been. But their covenants had a mutual interest, and she began to supply her list of unrepentant sinners for his covenant to hunt down. It became a bonding ritual, I think both of them enjoyed it more than they’d admit. 

Gwyndolin to begin to get. Jealous. Velka was known for spending nights with anyone she pleased, servant to knight, never getting attached to any of them. There were rumours that the crown prince of sunlight himself was on that list. Gwyndolin seemed to be the only one she wouldn’t look at in that way. Was that because of the way he looked? Did she pity or avoid him the way everyone else did, even after all this time? Every hour she spent with one of them was one she wasn’t with him. His own anger at her is confusing to him, because he’s never had any interest in anyone, male or female, not like this. It was, she said, because she valued him more than one of her throwaways. She paid close attention to him, enough to know he didn’t like to be approached like that, or looked at. Whenever people had shown interest in him before, he’d assumed they were mocking him. She didn’t want to make him feel the way they did, so she was content with the distance she stayed at, as long as she could pride herself on being the one he was most comfortable with. It was selfish, really, but she liked being his favourite, so she’d do anything to stay that way. Velka does not recognise the word love, because she’s never experienced it before, so she doesn’t use it, not yet.

When they finally stopped dancing around each other, her reputation for impropriety died, along with anyone who spoke about her like that in front of Gwyndolin. Gwyndolin is extremely possessive, and Velka, for once, finds she wants to be possessed. There’s still no power imbalance, though. With her support, Gwyndolin’s confidence can develop (she’s so proud of everything he does). With his favour, she can’t be sidelined as badly as before. They have to be careful as a couple, because it’s dangerous to be seen that way. Not because “Gwyn won’t approve of her”, but because between them, with their combined covenants, Gwyn’s distrust of her, and the growing unrest among Gwyn’s human subjects, they present a very real threat to the throne, and as if to prove their point, Gwyn will soon exile his own son and heir for less.

They’re like Morticia and Gomez, if all that overly romantic stuff were silent. Because they don’t need to say anything. Like the time he panicked over an instinctive murder of a wayward servant, and she helped him clean the blood off his hands and let him calm down alone when she wanted to kiss him until he remembered how much more important he was than such a silly mistake as that - to her, and who else matters? Or the time someone made an untoward comment about her at the dinner table and no one saw Gwyndolin draw the arrow, just the sight of it hit the speaker and kill them instantly. She only laughed as politely as she could, because he already knows how much she adores his overprotective homicidal tendencies, and he thrives off it. Her sense of justice has a blind spot that exists just for him, and she can forgive him anything.

There’s a little piece of lore in the game that says Velka sided against the gods in a war, and lost. The AU that could happen if they won gives me life. If they won, she wouldn’t have taken Gwyn’s place herself, she would have given it to Gwyndolin. They would make a terrifying but brilliant leader between them. The sun would set in Anor Londo for good, and Gwyndolin’s intelligence and clarity would get a chance to prove itself more useful than Gwyn’s brute force and genocide tactics. Gwyndolin isn’t much for titles, but you can be damn sure Velka would take it. If it made Gwyn turn in his grave to hear her called Queen, she’d insist on it, after the way she watched him treat Gwyndolin. As if he weren’t worthy of Gwyn’s pathetic legacy. 

Of course, as the series goes, in the third game, Gwyndolin is gone. Reportedly cannibalised by a cult leader and his apprentice while he was weak and sick. Velka’s verse for that revolves around her finding and saving him - whatever that means. 

If anyone stuck with me this long, please offer me emotional support, because I am compromised. I haven’t run out of words or feelings, I’ve run out of energy to convey them. These two are precious to me. Not only is there all this intensity and unrelenting devotion behind them, they take the usual framework for a hetero relationship, shatter it and piece it back together in completely the “wrong” order. Velka has some of the masculine traits, the forcefulness of her mannerisms, the proactively destructive one, however undercover it might be. Gwyndolin is the formal, delicate, princessly one, and has to be pushed to react badly. Both of them are beautiful, in totally opposing ways. You would usually expect the  female to be the sexually inexperienced one and the male to be the opposite, but that’s flipped on its head as well. And yet, the hyper-feminine one is Velka. Gwyndolin is androgynous, even in feminine clothing. I don’t think I’ve ever come across a pairing where each one adds to the others’ existence to such a degree as they do. I reject the events of the second and third games and substitute my own, because anything else is a waste of one of the best pairs I’ve seen in anything, ever. I don’t think I’ll ever top some of the threads I did with enasaliin with these two, honestly, I might as well log out and never come back. I have to go do some starters now. My heart hurts. ;-;