#ooh this one has a big ol plot behind it too

[rattkachuk]

🌹

a mceichel snippet from an au where jack and connor grow up together, but connor is in an accident as a teen that ends his hockey career before it even starts

“Hey, mind if I use the other half of the ice?” A voice speaks in the small quiet moment of Connor's wallowing, just as the tears freeze to Connor’s cheeks. Connor sniffs and blames the cold before turning around to face the newcomer. It’s Jack. He knows Jack, they’ve played hockey on the same teams since Jack moved here. When they were both just eight years old. That’s seven years. Seven years of playing the ice together, sharing jersey colours, team dinners together after tournaments and road trips on the same buses, playing road hockey in the summer and swearing they were going to play together in the NHL someday. Together. Musings of children that had no idea what life was like outside of the sport they were committing themselves to.

send me a 🌹 for a random bit of a wip <3

[angelmichelangelo]

If we did get foot solider Mikey like we deserve what would be the whole plot exactly of it? because the premise is how Mikey feels like a failure and that his brothers don't understand him and that he feels alone how would that be excuted exactly because 1. this adds more layers to Mikey that aren't ever really utilized and 2 Raph and Leo are a big problem in this scenario because they would just blame each other throughout the whole process along with trying to get Mikey back while arguing which would upset him even more since neither can own up to their mistakes and than Donnie has to figure out how to stop everything the fighting the convincing Mikey.

ooh okay! this is just me coming up with an idea on the fly so bare with me.

so imagine the movie opens up not long since the events of the last movie. they’re moving past the whole winters situation and starting to work more as a team, notably leo and raph who are getting along again and donnie is less stressed and it takes off SUCH a huge weight off mikey’s mind because of course he was constantly worrying about whether his family would heal itself again and here they are! happy together. and then comes along that good ol’ turtle luck.

idk how shredder comes back. it’s not really ever established in the first movie, or maybe i cant remember if he died? or disappeared. but imagine he comes back. some freaky magic (either on purpose or on accident by karai depending on whether you want her to be REALLY bad after her truce in the first movie lol) and suddenly they have shredder back on their tails.

the attack comes so out of left field - imagine they’re just goofing off on a roof with a hosepipe (iykyk) and then BAM leo goes down and raph is yelling his name and there’s panic.

they’ve trained for this, but the attack catches them off guard. they’re not prepared and since they’re still finding their footing as a team again, the foot are able to get the underhand.

mikey is calling out attack ideas but leo, in a panic, isn’t taking on board of what he’s saying. neither is raph and nor is donnie, too focused on the foot, each of the brothers don’t pay much attention to what mikey is suggesting. mikey, growing fustrated as he believes his idea would work, doesn’t get a chance to play any of his plans out after he’s knocked off the roof.

the brothers try and catch him but fail, letting their brother plummet to the street below. before they can go down and get him, the shredder appears (maybe in a crack of lightning lol very dramatic) and leo is like “you????”

they fight with the shredder for a bit, leo barking out orders for one of them to slip away and go grab mike but whenever one of them tries to leave the rooftop, it’s futile, they’re stopped by the foot; made to fight and unable to reach their brother to see if he’s alright.

then, just as fast as they appeared, the foot and shredder disappear. leo thinks it’s odd, but now that the foot are out of the way, they’re rushing down to make sure mikey is alright only to realise… he’s gone.

mask, nunchucks and cell phone (for the purpose of donnie not being able to track him) all left behind, it slowly dawns on them what’s happened.

it then switches perspectives of mikey who’s slowly waking up in some cage. unsure of where he is, we see Karai stroll in, looking torn.

she tells mikey something along the lines of “i didn’t want it to have to be this way but you must understand my loyalty to the foot comes before whatever promise i made to you.”

mikey is confused like “who even are you lady? where am I?”

and karai, realising what’s happened reports back to shredder like “uh yeah he’s lost his memory i think” and shredder is like “okay. change of plans”

(he originally kidnapped one of the turtles to draw the rest of them + splinter to him but now he’s having Evil Thoughts)

so he goes to mikey like “um yes you’re a sad lonely mutant. your family didn’t want you, i saved you”

mikey tries to remember but can only recollect the last hazy memories where his brothers weren’t listening to him so he’s like “it must be true?”

ANYWAY the boys are panicking because they need to get to mikey and they’re sure it’s a trap but they don’t care cos they beat shredder before, they’ll do it again but they’re pretty taken aback when they realise getting into foot hq isn’t as easy as they though if shredder was just trying to lure them in. so like. what is his plan with mikey?

meanwhile shredder is training mike with a new pair of chucks, a black mask, he’s feeding him lies about how his family had no faith in him or wanted him in their team. mikey distresses that even if it’s true, he doesn’t want to harm anyone.

and shredder is like “oh yeah no we’re not about that here. we have honour”

meanwhile karai is unsure whether it’s a good idea what he’s doing or not. of course she’s part of the foot but in the shredders absence she was shaping it into something else and so she confronts shredder and this pisses him off and so he starts Plotting.

meanwhile the boys and splinter are making plans to get mikey back and so they sneak in to the foot hq one night, and shredder can see right through their plan but he lets them in (to which again leo is like. this is too easy something is wrong)

it’s then that shredder kills Karai (sorry karai) and shredder alerts mikey like “look what they did!! these monsters have no honor killing my Karai in her sleep like this! we have to avenge her!!”

and mikey doesn’t want to have to kill but he believes in putting his family first so he vows to avenger his “sister”.

so he goes up against leo raph and don who all are trying to get him to snap out of it once they realise what’s happening but mikey has already been warned by shredder that they might pull those kinds of tricks to get him to go with them.

basically they fight and whatever and it goes back and forth between them all, and eventually we have another rainy rooftop scene because they’re my favourite and it’s down to leo and mikey now and mikey is like “you don’t want me! shredder appreciates me!” and leo is like “he doesn’t he’s just USING you!!” mikey is torn and confused because he’s pretty sure his memories are slowly coming back.

leo apologies to mikey for not listening to him before. he apologises for putting him in danger and for the whole situation so far and then so do raph and donnie from where they’re sprawled out from where mike kicked their asses lol

and then just as mikey is about to switch sides, shredder comes out of nowhere and smacks him across the roof and leo is PISSED

all three brothers go back against shredder and they’re failing when suddenly mikey gets back up, the knock on his head giving him his memories back (because movie logic) and this time when he gives his directions and plans, they listen and execute it and they’re able to beat shredder :3

UH yeah that’s it. they go home and eat pizza and give their brother a big fat hug and it’s very happy and nothing bad ever happens to them again.

i literally made this up as a i went along so it’s missing characters and not that good but that’s just personally the kind of thing i’d like to see. idk lemme know your thoughts :)

[laesas]

Hi dear! For the ask game maybe 🧠 and 💭?

🧠 What’s an idea you have that you can’t quite call a WIP yet?

🌸 Kimhanahaki 🌸 - KimChay + Hanahaki disease (flowers growing in the chest caused by unrequited love) this has spent the last few weeks pinging around my little brain.

It's a Chay POV fic where a few years after canon he's mostly moved on. He's gotten to the point where he can hear a WIK song on the radio and think about it almost fondly. He's not planning on becoming Kim's best friend but he can be civil with him and he understands why Kim did what he did to protect his brothers at the very least. Everything is fine until he gets dragged to some event where he stumbles into a back room and finds Kim collapsed on the floor coughing up flowers. At first Chay is caught by the fact this this is incredibly unfair, especially as Kim is the one that hurt him, but he eventually becomes determined to help because he feels responsible. Kim (predictably) wants no involvement in this plan and wants Chay to stay away. Kim is managing fine on his own. He's getting treatments, it's all managable, he just has to live with it. Chay convinces him to let him help by threatening to tell Tankhun lol. Chay is convinced that more distance won't help and realistically, it's been 2-3 years and Kim is apparently still in love with some teenage, pre-mafia version of Chay that doesnt exist anymore. If he can get that idea through Kim's head, maybe there's a chance he'll fall out of love and that the flowers will stop. Cue Kim and Chay developing a tentative friendship, Kim learning to lean on the people he trusts and a KimChay slowly falling (back) in love montage.

I have so so much more on this haha - The other day I got a leeetle bit tipsy and overexcited and accidentally pitched the entire thing to various little gay creatures that live in my phone. When I predicted 'at least 20k' for breathing room I got told 'at least 40k' which is! A LOT!! Maybe too much for lil ol me (a very very new writer) I'm torn because I love the idea and I feel like if I post the *ENTIRE* outline and all the plot points here, there will be absolutely ZERO chance of me writing it because *spoilers!*. BUT if the chance of me writing it is zero anyway, maybe I should just type up the full outline and hit post?! It might spark joy for someone haha

ANYWAY! that's Kimhanahaki! 🌸

💭 What is a headcanon you have about your own work?

OOH! - So this never makes it into the KimBig fic but I have so many headcanons about Kim's resentment of Big and how that came to be. My idea is that Kim used to be incredibly close with Kinn in their childhood. Tankhun was off doing much more imprtant heir related things and Kinn was left to dote on Kim.

Big was brought to the household at around the exact same time that Kinn became the heir (I've seen some fics where Big's was orphaned when his father (a bodyguard) was killed during Taknhun's kidnapping). Big moves in, determined to follow in his father's footsteps, and as Kinn's agemate he can convincingly go where other bodyguards can't. He's also a massive support for Kinn emotionally as while Tankhun is still alive, Kinn has still 'lost' his older brother in a sense.

Between all his new responsibilities and gaining Big as his new shadow, the now-teenage Kinn's relationship with a still very young Kim takes a hit. Kim is too young and too emotionally immature to fill the space that Big fits into, and as Kinn starts leaving him behind he ends up resenting Big for it.

Thanks so so much for asking lovely!! <3

✨📝 Writers Ask Game 📝✨

💌Send here!💌

[nad-zeta]

Game Night

Fandom: Ikevamp

Pairings: Arthot x Reader

Genre: Fluffffff plus mentions of Alcohol

Words: 1500+

Comments: Eeeeep and the birthday bash week continues! Hehehe I wonder who this is for hehehe ❤❤ ❤😳🥺Zeta can be sneaky tooo! 🥺😳❤🌈

.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’･ﾟ｡.*:・’ﾟ: ｡.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。

“Yahtzee!”

“Nooo! Wait! How! Gaah, next game!” you exclaimed from the leather seat opposite Arthur, sending him a death glare with crossed over arms.

“Not had enough yet, Luv? My, how you must enjoy defeat so,” the cocky words were spoken belonging to the British author who now wore a wide triumphant smile at yet another victory claimed.

Ooh, you wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug smirk right from his face; the only problem was Arthur Conan Doyle was a master at all games and puzzle alike— and you had absolutely no chance at winning. No matter the challenge, he would rise to the occasion and steal victory from right from beneath your nose— even if you were the goddess of luck herself, you doubted you would be able to secure victory.

“I’ll show you defeat,” you sneered, taking a sip of your whiskey mix and watching him set up the next board with hawk eyes. He must be cheating? Right? There was simply no other explanation as to how this man would be able to win at games he had never even heard of before, much less played.

Or perhaps he— “it is not luck. I assure you, my darling bird,” his blue eyes lifted to meet yours, cunning smile on his lips, cutting your thoughts short.

How did he do that? You glared at the man wearing a mix of shock and horror. Infuriating, you thought, especially when he all so amusingly seemed to chuckle at the expressions you made. “Would you believe me if I said it was magic,” he asked with enthusiasm, leaning forward with bright eyes.

Again he seemed to read your mind, answering your inner thoughts out loud. You narrowed your eyes at him apprehensively; you knew vampires existed, yes? But magic? There was no way. “Prove it,’ the words left your mouth as you found that despite the side-eye delt, you inched closer in curiosity.

“Abracadabra,” Arthur spoke the familiar words of an old friend and produced a small box from his sleeve.

“That’s not magic, you big ol cheat! That’s just a trick!” you huffed, rolling your eyes at him— but mostly at yourself for almost believing such a thing to be possible.

“Poppycock! It’s not just a trick! It’s magic! After all, how else would you explain the appearance of this magical box out of thin air,” he hummed, holding the dainty blue velvet box out towards you. With another roll of the eyes, you reached out to take the box from his hands.

“Most definitely not with science, that’s for sure,” you spoke with hints of sarcasm behind your teasing grin, fingers pulling at the ribbon atop the box. You carefully opened the lid, not entirely sure what to expect— after all, it would not be the first time you had opened a gift from the man only for it to be some or other good-natured jest.

You held the box away from you, opening it cautiously while closing one eye, the other eye barely peeking open to a squint to catch a glimpse of the box’s contents carefully.

You half expected a flurry of glitter to shoot out from the inside and puff straight into your face— you know, as a way to prove fairies existed or whatnot.

Arthur sat back in his chair with crossed legs and a fond smirk over his lips, “I do hope you like it Luv, the fairies worked awfully hard to construct it,” he quipped with a snort, only adding to your suspicion.

Finally, you opened the lid to reveal two pairs of dazzling red dice, shimmering gently, as the light from the fireplace reflected off the smooth crystal surface. You had to smile— of course, Arthur would cutely attribute the glitter within to the magical pixie dust of the fairies he loved so much.

“Now that I have passed on some of my wizard powers, highest roll starts,” he spoke, getting back into the game mode as he placed on his polka dot glasses while sending you a flirty wink.

He leaned forward, resting his chin on his folded hands, waiting for you to roll the dice; only instead of rolling your new set of crimson, you mimicked his movements. No way you were going to roll first, for all you knew, these dice might be just as cursed as the previous ones.

“After you,” you spoke, sliding your new dice towards the man.

His blue eyes met yours challengingly as he picked up the dice, giving them a gentle shake in a mock roll before placing them before you once more, “ladies first’ he winked with a smug smile.

Ah, if he thought you were going to back down from the mental challenge so soon, he was sorely mistaken. You fixed him with a determined glare of your own, “Age before beauty, I insist,” you said with a wicked smile, once more pushing the dice towards him.

He rose to the challenge, letting go of an amused snort, not making any effort to move, as blue eyes met yours with a lifted chin, “Beauty before the beast,” he spoke full of confidence. No matter the game, or challenge, Arthur never liked to be bested. Be it by his friends, family or lover, losing was not an option.

“Men before hens,” you spoke again smugly, crossing your arms, leaving the dice right where they were on his side of the table. “I could do this allllll night long, dearie, so you best hurry up and roll,” you added for good measure.

With a chuckle and shake of the head, Arthur relented, swiping the dice of the table and shaking them in his hands, “very well hen, since it’s your birthday, I suppose I shall back down just this once.”

He blew on the dice, a good luck ritual of sorts, before throwing them down on the table.

The game was now afoot!

You could tell by the glimmer in his eyes he was already planning, strategising, plotting, if you will. Was this his plan all along, to go first? You shook the thought from your head, focusing your attention on the snakes and ladders board. You needed to keep your wits about you if you wanted to win this game. 50% luck, 20% skill and 30% pure divine intervention— thus, you started to pray. The stakes were high, and the reward even higher.

“Twelve,” you practically squealed out in excitement at the outcome of the first roll, looks like the prayer worked, now to keep up the momentum. Taking a swig of your drink, it was finally your turn to roll the dice.

Somewhere between the smack talk and fun, you and Arthur had upped the stakes, adding a rule to include a shot taken for each snake you were to descend down. Needless to say, you had lost count of the number of shots that had passed your lips as you were very much past well-toasted at this point.

Dimming and brightening, you struggled to keep your eyes open, determined to finish—determined to win.

“Yes! Take that, Arty, down the snake you go! Ha! Drink up sunshine,” you chanted, filling Arthur’s glass to the rim with gin while getting up to do a little premature victory dance. However, your victory celebration seemed to end all too soon, with the next roll sending your straight down the very same snake.

”For Fudge sake!” you yelled, throwing yourself back into the chair— the image of yourself flipping the table in frustration playing in your mind’s eye— bringing a smile to your lips as you took another sip.

The night continued on.

It wasn’t before long Arthur was officially declared the winner— albeit he had to announce himself the winner as you were now ‘resting your eyes’ busy fighting yet another losing battle.

“Ah, I believe I win, now for my prize,” he sang out, downing the remnants of his glass and towering over your resting form.

“You ought to be more careful, Luv. What if I were to pounce on you, honestly, bird? What am I going to do with you.”

He crouched down, sitting on his heels as he slowly reached out to gently pull his fingers through your silken hair. Suddenly you shifted, falling forward—forehead landing on his shoulder, you murmured a little, snuggling closer to his warmth before breaths softly evened out once more. “You really are quite a troublesome drunk, aren’t you, dove, “he cooed, hand moving from your hair to tenderly stroke your cheek.

In one swift motion, Arthur picked you up, “upsy daisy, there we are, now off to bed with you, my darling.” You shifted again in his arms, nose nuzzling further into the cook of his neck. He smiled down at you, blue eyes filled with nothing but pure love and affection, before carrying you off to bed.

He gently laid you down, tucking you beneath the sheets before dropping one final adoring kiss on your forehead. “Happy birthday, my darling bird,” was all he spoke in a soft whisper before extinguishing the light and tucking you in his arms, drifting off into a blissful sleep of his own.

.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’･ﾟ｡.*:・’ﾟ: ｡.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。

[therosefrontier]

Author Self-Interview

tagged by: @pencilofawesomeness

Name: BlossomingRosebud

Fandoms: Where do I even start...I have written and published stuff before for Genshin Impact, My Hero Academia, Tower of God, Attack on Titan, Voltron: Legendary Defender, the Sonic the Hedgehog series (mostly in the era of yesteryear)...and yes, I’m listing off my AO3 list right now; I’ve also used the world of RWBY, the Warriors series (the books with the cats), and this one Vocaloid song (I really like doing crossovers like that). So yeah, those are some of the things I consider myself in the fandom for, either now or in the past. I’ve also written but not published things for Seven Deadly Sins, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, and Fairy Tail, among others. Oh yes, and Umbrella Academy is here too. Other fandoms would include the Heroic Legend of Arslan, The Promised Neverland, SpyxFamily, etc. Just some of the top things, there’s definitely more where that came from. 

Where do you post: AO3. I have been in other places before that, like fanfiction.net and Wattpad....but that is an era come and gone and AO3′s a clear winner for me. Plus whatever I posted back then is probably pretty bad XD

Most popular multi-chapter fic: Angeli Quaeritus, if I’m ranking this by the AO3 kudos.

Most popular oneshot: We Promised We Would Be Together...which funny enough, has exactly the same amount of kudos as Angeli Quaeritus at the time of me writing this. I found it amusing that ol’ Angeli is also my longest continuous fic and this one’s about to surpass it at 4.8% of its size XD

Favorite story you’ve written so far: You...you ask me to pick my favorite child? Hard to say, but honestly, I might have to go with Vision Like a Faded Memory, which also happens to be my one true multi-chapter completed work (59k words). It was just...one of those things I got super into writing in the process of doing so, you know? Plus, completion makes the heart grow fonder lol. Besides that, A Day in the Life of Why Did I Take This Job was also a lot of fun to write and probably takes the place as my favorite short-story/two-shot, and Everything Good and Bright might have to be my favorite one-shot. That one just made me happy.

Fic you were nervous to post: Heh, if anything, probably also Vision like a Faded Memory, just because it was a mystery plot with sci-fi elements that weren’t immediately apparent. Doing a mystery, you have to make an ending that lives up to whatever expectations you build in the reader, and I guess I was afraid it would just...flop? Seem weird or just not that good? But, I’m still happy with it, I think. Didn’t receive many comments on the ending, but the ones I did get seemed to be happy with it, so...there’s that? Maybe some people thought it weird, but hey, as long as I can make a few people happy with my writing, I’m happy. 

How do you choose your titles: Huh...that depends. Some titles, like the ones for one-shots, are of the more wack and oddly-descriptive-of-some-particular-thing-as-well-as-oddly-long variety, like A Day in the Life or How Not to Expel the Restless Spirit Plaguing Your School as a Result of Your Biology Teacher, which I just find fun. For other fics, I guess my goal is to have it be something meaningful if I could come up with anything like that, something relevant to the theme and/or some motif from the fic. Like how Everything Good and Bright is a Snow Queen parody focusing on the “looking at the good things in life” aspect of the story, or how Not By Blood was meant to be found-family-oriented. My favorite approach would be the double meaning, though...like how Angeli Quaeritus (Latin for “Looking for Angels”, for reasons) is this human experimentation story about people in a way making their own “angels,” but it also features all these sad teenagers kind of lost in the world and thus in need of an “angel”, so to speak. Plus it’s a song reference. I make quotes to the song.

Do you outline: Oh yeah. At least, for the big stuff, anyways. A lot of my shorter stories have no outline, and also, I’m not much of a detailed play-by-play kind of outliner. I just like to get an idea of what’s going on, what I want to happen, what the character’s stories and histories are, what’s the big picture. The more convoluted the plot, the bigger the “outline” (or is it more of a planning document?). Plot points and chapters are a thing, but I also got factions and timelines and random but important details to keep up with. There’s also research to keep up with, too. So yeah, my first story to really outline like that was Angeli Quaeritus, but I’m happy to say that more over-complicated plot bunnies have bounced around in my brain since then...

Complete: Not that many, if I’m just looking at AO3. Again, Vision Like a Faded Memory is the main one. I have several one-shots out there too, but if I were just to count the fics that are over 10k words, the others would be... How Not to Expel the Restless Spirit Plaguing Your School as a Result of Your Biology Teacher,  A Day in the Life of Why Did I Take This Job, and Tower to Celestia.

Do you accept prompts: Yeah, sure thing! I haven’t ever done that before or anything, but I’d be open. I might not accept every prompt necessarily, but I’d consider them.

Upcoming story you’re most excited to write about: That’ll definitely have to be the next installments to my Haven’t Seen the Best of Me series, where A Day in the Life and How to Expel the Restless Spirit come from. I have so many notes on that one XD I’d so love to see it really come to fruition

Stories you’re most excited to read: Ooh, yes, well, just looking at my AO3 subscriptions I’m most excited about, that’d have to be Fairy Dance of Death by Catsy, the Poisoned Dreams Continuity by StrangeDiamond, Homuncular Nature by otaku553, Coagulated Chalk by SleepDeprivedFemale, Our Hearts Are Made of Stars by Ruinous, Your Crush is My Love Rival by cathelerein and InkuEko and...The Harbinger’s Apprentice by Cosmoddino (accidentally fell behind but I’m reading it right now). There’s other good works on the list too, but these are probably my nearest and dearest at the moment

tagging @resident-normal-person! If ya wanna...

[lexicals]

Liner notes for An Echo, An Answer

Okay let's give this a go I guess? I may add more to this if I remember things too lol

Fair warning this is an exceedingly long post. It has ~subheadings~ (ooh). These cover: 

Fun Facts

Notes about mira

Notes on actual writing/plot

Post-canon tidbits (to be supplemented by actual post-canon oneshot coming maybe not soon but definitely at some point probably)

Needless to say this contains some BIG OL’ SPOILERS. Please enjoy o:

Some general Fun Facts™:

When I posted the first few chapters of this fic, I didn't have a fucking clue where it was going. I didn't even know how kravitz died until I'd already posted like 10 chapters lmao. This was a stressful way to write and I am never doing that again

In terms of inspo, I remember there being a fic in which taako was a ghost and kravitz was a medium (if anyone knows what fic this is PLEASE tell me I cannot find it) and I think I subconsciously took inspiration from this. Also I’d already written a vampire au and I wanted more undead boyfriend shenanigans, I looove playing with the liminal aspects of kravitz being a dead-but-not-dead character

There was a goof version of this fic where kravitz wasn't from the 1900s at all and died in like. The early 2000s or something. He died having come back from/at a costume party, people assumed he was an actual ye olde victorian ghost, and he decided to just lean into it. Cue fake accent. This was scrapped mainly because I loved the ‘sleepy hollow’-esque man-out-of-time shenanigans way too much and also because I know very little about the early-2000s US but do you know what I do know a moderate amount about? 1900s england

I have not read the cask of amontillado and I did not know what it was until seeing the memes, which was after I wrote the basement body twist. I just wanted to have a cheesy secret basement behind a bookcase c'mon it's a murder mystery in an old spooky house let me have this

Anyone who's followed my content for a while probably knows that I'm a big trans kravitz stan, but I dithered over making him trans in this fic a Lot. This was mostly down to self-doubt abt a story ft. a trans man living as his preferred gender in that time period would be deemed "unrealistic" but in the end I said fuck it I want this & I think that was the correct move. Also I read a fair bit about absolute legend dr james barry & that made me a bit more confident about committing to the decision bc these people did exist & they deserve their rep

You may notice that all of the major OCs created for this fic are women. This was an accident but also I stand by it bc I think it helps to balance out the fact that so much of the ‘screentime’ is being dominated by the male leads (inc. angus, who probably has the 3rd most screentime after taako & krav). They’re also all just, absolutely indomitable people. I have a type when it comes to OCs. Speaking of:

Notes on mira:

Mira was very much a character created to serve a purpose, but she ended up becoming a lot more than that and I'm glad people warmed up to her while reading as much as I did while writing. She wasn't going to have anywhere near as much screen time initially as she did in the end but I just loved her & how her relationship with kravitz turned out so much that I ended up writing a bunch of snippets with the two of them just for me, which eventually turned into the fragment chapters because I wanted to share how gd cute they were. Also they ended up being pretty useful for plot too lol

She and flossy were actually kind of the same character to begin with, being kravitz's best friend who he lived with in a kind of lavender marriage with neither of them interested in the other but being happy enough being friends & pretending. I scrapped this pretty early for a lot of reasons but she was still the cause of his death in that version, whether or not she actively killed him. I think there was a gambling debts element at some point

Whatever iteration of the story, she was always going to be the cause of death. I ruled out actual murder pretty early on because I didn't want to tell a story about a gay, black trans man getting murdered in cold blood in his own home, which in a ghost story only really leaves manslaughter, and an accidental killing by a loved one was an idea that followed pretty hot on the heels of that decision - it's very sad, but there's no hatred behind it, so it's not too outright depressing for what is most likely an audience with a high population of marginalised people. That bittersweetness of tone - sad events, but almost always with loving intentions behind or around them - ended up being a real touchstone for the story as a whole

In terms of post-canon content for her, or I guess just stuff that wasn't mentioned in-fic lol, my idea of how her life played out is that she was a pretty solid pillar of her community for a very long time. She took what kravitz said about thinking about what she wanted to add to the world very much to heart, and her answer was for her to be to as many kids and vulnerable people as possible what kravitz was to her. Obviously in the end she poured a lot of herself into helping others out of guilt for having killed a man who she likely remembered a little rose-tinted, but the intent was always there before that too

I don't know how much this came across in the actual text but mira is mixed race (Black/white), though she is Black-coded in terms of how people see and respond to her (please tell me if I’m using these terms incorrectly). I downplayed a lot of the racial elements of this fic bc I don’t feel like it’s my place as a white writer to delve into those areas, but it is an element of her story that ties into anti-miscegenation laws and general societal attitudes and I didn’t just want to entirely gloss over those aspects, bc that wouldn’t be right of me either, so I can only hope the balance ended up working here, and for kravitz’s story too. I did a lot of the writing for mira’s story before even really thinking about this angle which is something I’ve learnt from now bc oh boy should I have thought about it sooner lmao........

Anyway. I love her. I’m very glad that other people love her too

In terms of story writing:

I used to watch A LOT of crime dramas when I was younger, and got so familiar with the structure of them that I used to predict who the killer was going to be about a quarter of the way into them almost every time. Most of the time the killer is someone introduced early on as someone fairly innocuous, but still notable, before the narrative doubles down on a red herring suspect who's proven innocent about 3/4 of the way through, paving the way for the real twist killer. You see where I took my base structure from here

So, mira is introduced early on as someone important to kravitz, who was involved in his life (& death) somehow, but in general she's more suggested to be a victim than a culprit - because of course she is, she’s a child and she loves him! I'm only just realising now that this is a "person of interest" style plot twist here. (Remember what I said about the crime dramas? Just so many of them.) But then in the end she suffered just as much as anyone else, so I guess you could say she's both a victim and a culprit, even by accident.......

Structurally I'm actually really happy with how this turned out. In my head (BECAUSE OH BOY I DID NOT WRITE ANY OF THIS DOWN! Or at least not in a coherent way) the story was split into three mini arcs - the enemies section ending with the kitchen blowout, the friends section ending with the the bay window scene, and the lovers section which covers the rest of the fic. This ended up integrating really well with the main mysteries/pulls of the story - the first being the will-they-won't-they (they will, it’s fanfiction, but how?) of the romance element, and then once that's tapering off starting to dig more into the murder mystery element, which had been more of a subplot up until then, while the romance moves onto the back burner a little bit. The dual genre was an interesting challenge to try to balance and I think it turned out pretty well!

While I'm on this, setting up my breadcrumb trails for the plot twists was simultaneously very stressful and very rewarding. Trying to keep things obvious enough to be noted but subtle enough not to give the whole game away? Gave me so many headaches lmao. I actually thought for sure that some people would twig about the body in the cellar sooner than ch42, but then actually in ch42 way more people picked up on fisher's sniffing around than I expected. Clues are hard!! But at the same time seeing the handful of people who called mira as an adoptive daughter, or the fact that krav fell down the stairs, or the fact that mira's og parents were involved was very cool and it made me very happy to see people picking up the little stuff and putting it together

QUITE A FEW PEOPLE SAID NICE THINGS TO ME ABOUT HOW CLEVER THE PIANO TUNING ANGLE WAS. I CANNOT TAKE COMPLETE CREDIT FOR THIS. IT WAS A PLOT HOLE THAT I SUDDENLY REGISTERED OUT OF NOWHERE WHILE I WAS IN THE SHOWER & THEN ENDED UP WORKING IN SO I GUESS IT TURNED OUT FOR THE BEST & MADE ME LOOK VERY SMART BUT IT WAS AN ACCIDENT

Something else that a couple of people have noted & that I only realised in the process of writing was the fact that a lot of kravitz's ghostliness in this fic has the potential to be read as an allegory for chronic illness/disability. This was something I only caught onto myself while I was writing the scene on the porch at the end of ch42 when I was writing kravitz's dialogue and was like..... oh shit that's a thing huh. Bc he is, y'know, quite literally housebound and limited in what he can do in a lot of ways, which is part of the reason I really tried to hammer home in that chapter that even though the fic ends with him being 'cured' (because that ending was always the intention from day one before I ever thought about this reading), they would have been happy together regardless. Love is not conditional!

Post-canon thoughts:

Taako and kravitz go into the house. Kravitz says oh my god what is that smell. Taako says he made blueberry pie earlier. Kravitz says okay we're putting bedroom fun times on hold I need that RIGHT NOW

Kravitz eats way too much too fast and spends the rest of the afternoon curled up on the sofa with a horrible stomach ache. He is not used to that much rich food. Taako is not impressed with this

He rolls his eyes and they watch a movie and talk instead and get to the bedroom fun times later

On the topic of food you Know krav ends up with a bit of a tummy from taako spoiling him. He looks & feels great and taako loves how comfy he is

Also on the topic of bodies I think krav does a lot of experimenting initially with what feels good now that he has a lot more freedom in presentation. He likes to mess with his hair a lot. Dresses and skirts are still a bad feel but a little makeup is fun sometimes. Kravitz living his best undeath 2k18 (I took so long to finish this fic it’s set 2 years ago now lmaoooo)

Kravitz lets taako drive him somewhere exactly Once before vowing NEVER AGAIN taako's driving privileges are REVOKED kravitz is going to get magnus to teach him to drive instead.

Taako says what the hell are you gonna do if you get pulled over you are a hundred and thirty and also dead you can't get a license. (He could get him a fake one, but he's not going to, because he's being petty about kravitz insulting his driving.) Kravitz says fine show me yours then. Taako says no but kravitz steals it anyway. A minute later he’s produced his own undoubtedly fake license out of nowhere complete with a fake DOB and a very nice picture

Taako says gasp kravitz that's ILLEGAL. Also you know you have to make this picture worse if you want it to be convincing right

Kravitz starts giving angus music lessons. Angus isn’t a natural by any means but he works hard and that gets him a long way

OH ACTUALLY I SHOULD PROBABLY SAY SMTH ABOUT THE REUNIONS HUH. GINNY THESE ARE FOR YOU:

Maybe it's weird to start with barry but the poor man has to have a sit down. He has so many questions. Kravitz what is the afterlife like it's fine you can tell him just give him a hint please and also can he maybe get like. A blood sample or something. No that's not weird it's for science what are you talking about taako bring him back

Kravitz is fully expecting lup to wreck his shit, and she acts like she's going to right up until she's close enough to give him a big ol hug instead. She says she missed him a lot & that he's much nicer to hug now that he's not a freezy boy, and kravitz goes ;_;

It's a very tight hug though. In some ways it is still a punishment

Also could he maybe hook her up with this death goddess of his? Lup would like to be immortal too, kravitz. Kravitz can you get a resume to your boss and could you write lup a reference while you're at it

Angus!! He’s so happy to have his other uncle back!! There’s a new caleb cleveland book he needs to read so they can talk about it!! All of this after a lot of crying and hugging.

I think at some point they do go over to visit mira’s descendants. Taako says hi remember me? I brought my boyfriend to visit! Unnamed great great grandchild #1 is like um he looks kind of familiar. Kravitz says well yes there is kind of a reason for that and it’s because I’m in that picture on the wall over there, hi I’m your great great grandfather nice to meet you

The family is a little weirded out by this at first but eventually they’re like. Well alright I guess do you want a coffee

Kravitz says yes please god do you know how many people keep offering me tea

He babysits for the youngest ones sometimes. The kids love him and the adults are happy to give him stories in exchange for his time, seeing as that’s all he asks for

Taako says ask them for money and contribute to this household kravitz. Kravitz says absolutely not they’re family and you’re already getting my youtube ad revenue

Yes kravitz has a youtube channel and is also very involved in the local music scene. He can’t do anything that would technically be classed as interfering with the flow of the living world but no-one said he can’t anonymously share some of his music here and there

Johann gets him a gig conducting for his orchestra every now and then. Kravitz is fucking ecstatic and finally gets to conduct some of his own pieces in front of an audience. Maybe they actually get to that biography johann mentioned at some point. Idk I haven’t thought about that part too much

Okay I wrote WAY more than I meant to here but I hope at least some of it was interesting and feel free to ask me questions if there are elements I’ve missed off of here that you want to hear more about! (Bearing in mind some of the answers may be “actual post canon content coming soon/later” lol.) As you can tell I have a lot of things to say about this fic & I’m always more than happy to hear that people are interested!! o:

[tfw-no-tennis]

mtmte liveblog issue 28

catch me completely ignoring dark cybertron lmao

yeahhhh so I'm just gonna skip dark cybertron bc no thanks. I did read the tf wiki articles for the issues tho, which is more than I did in the past, so at least now I kinda know what happened, though I had to suffer thru reading about dark cybertron to learn stuff about it. yikes. reading ABOUT dark cybertron further enforced my decision to not actually read thru it

anyways. the best part of dark cybertron was when chromedome threw prowl off that cliff. that was baller lmfao

a 1 page recap of dark cybertron is about all I can handle. thank you

ooh, the 6 months later smash-cut, I fucking love itttt

nautica’s here!!!!!!!!!!! I'm so happy I love her. also brainstorm, and I love their friendship sm

hvbjdkhfbshdfj god I love them. they have such a fun dynamic 

everyone eavesdropping on a therapy session vhbhdjkhafbhkjsdf. hipaa laws mean nothing as usual 

the casual reveal of captain megatron, oh god 

the title fucking slaps, as usual. this is one of my favorites - ‘world, shut your mouth.’ great stuff, and a song title/reference to boot! and this being part 1: towards peace...chefs kiss

and then we flash back to 6 months earlier...yknow now that I'm rereading this, mtmte has a LOT of framing devices used - there's story-within-a-story, flashback/flash-forwards, storytelling with narration, etc...I love it

god hbvhjakdfbshjkdf rodimus saying ‘magic’ and then the little *magic = science rodimus doesn't understand HBGKJHSDBFKHJSDF my idiot boy ily

rodimus roasting prowl is my fav hbfjdkafshsbjkf ‘maybe the knights can help us find a cure for your personality’ ily sm

and then prowl agreeing w/rodimus a few panels later about megatron’s guilt...

optimus...don't you think that making yourself chief of justice is...maybe a bad idea...like, maybe there's a conflict of interests here...just a little bit of bias...a bit too much history, perhaps...

the fact that all the big roles in the trial were given to high-ranking autobots who were heavily involved in the war...I see that cybertrons justice system is as much of a farce as their medical ethics and patient confidentiality laws 

the ‘you BROKE the MATRIX’ panel is so good bjhkdhfbajskhdf

rodimus: LISTEN dad I just wanna resume my space cruise with my frat bro ship I have no interest in politics

psychiatrists HATE him! local former warlord refuses to recognize the validity of psychological analyzation of people’s actions

ravage casually breaking hipaa laws and chilling in megatron’s therapy session like >:3

I love rung...he’s so good at like, passive-aggressively cutting right to the heart of someone’s issues, and he’s so generally mild that you can’t even really get mad at him 

the sudden inclusion of megatron as a major character in mtmte is kinda jarring at first - mostly, for me at least, due in part because I didn't read dark cybertron so this is like, megatron’s introduction as a relevant character in general - but I feel like jro does a great job laying a lot of intrigue down from the very beginning w/his character - like, I already want to know more about what his whole deal is, even though we have, ostensibly, seen pretty much all of his story play out already 

rung name-dropping froid...i remember that made me lose my shit bc cmon. FROID....jesus christ

rung and megatron: holy shit! we’re suddenly being drawn in a 90s-esque sci-fi tron-looking retro-futuristic style!

interesting that megatron sought rung out, and not the other way around

RIPTIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my favorite sharkboy is HERE

CREWDITIONS...YES....

‘we’re not allowed to take anyone who might remind rodimus of prowl’ vhbhjdkshfbhaskfd brutal

I love nautica so so much. a perfect autistic scientist after my own heart

I adore that nautica brought chromia along for moral support

hgvbjdakhfbhsj and then swerve saying that rodimus hates ‘trisyllabic names’ and nautica is like....but....‘rodimus’.....

and then nightbeat busts in to get all bbc sherlock on they asses hgbfhjadkfbjaskdf

WHY was perceptor at the crewditions if he was already part of the crew lmao

ooof, and then we have megatron flipping out when chromedome, a mnemosurgeon, shows up

also damn the autobots were rlly like okay so we wanna speed this trial up so lets just like, probe megatrons brain, that seems completely ethical, especially when you consider the history of shadowplay and stuff that our previous government had

I know important stuff is happening but megatron is holding a CUBE and I love CUBES so I'm distracted by that. C U B E

and then right after a scene where we see chromedome willing to perform mnemosurgery again - despite rewind’s like, dying wish for him not to - we hear that he’s been locked up in his room rewatching rewinds goodbye message over and over again :( I'm fucking depressed

I love nightbeat, he’s so funny and kind of an asshole

and then you see more missing letters behind them next panel...clearly nightbeat is right and there’s a mystery afoot...OR somebody is fucking with the ship’s lettering as a prank, which is a plot point I would absolutely buy

yeahhhh skids is right, chromedome is clearly Not dealing 

the dramatic graffiti on megatrons door...I wanna know who spray-painted ‘die’ everywhere like they're reaper overwatch

oh god. whirl vs megatron

really cool red lighting tho

GOD its so brutal, all the stuff megatron said about how he told the cons not to kill whirl...and doesn't that end up being false anyways? so he was just saying it to dig at whirl, which is awful

also I'm never over the fact that literally everyone - including megatron and whirl - blames whirl for ‘turning megatron violent,’ as if the entire Point isn't that whirl was a tool for a corrupt system, and if it wasn't whirl it would've just been someone else, and megatron turning away from pacifism was inevitable given the circumstances, AND also a choice on his part, so he really only has himself to blame for his OWN ACTIONS

bye bye whirls right arm, see you in lost light 

‘people never stop changing’ that IS something I say all the time...damn you warlord grandpa! how can you steal my philosophies?!

ohhh man and then rewind’s goodbye message being different....oooh

AUGH the fact that whirl was basically trying to goad megatron into killing him, just like he did in issue 1 w/cyclonus...It Hurts Man

also I do love the hint at who he’s talking to w/whirl shooting megatron with the bow and arrow earlier, and we know that atomizer is a fan of those

ok, but here’s where my philosophy diverges - megatron talks about throwing away his past and starting new, but I think that you have to learn from and build on your past...either way, megatron’s arc is one that I enjoy greatly from a character writing standpoint, and I'm excited to get it underway, especially w/how controversial it is lmao

big ole double-page spread...I like how you can pick out individual characters in the background crowd, which is crazy cause that's a LOT of people. also how come cosmos is so HUGE

phewwww 4.6 billion cybertronians died in the war, that’s INSANE. that's like, an incomprehensibly huge number. is there an estimate for their current population? I bet its not a lot. no wonder jro leaned into reproductive themes so much in mtmte/ll - of course the continuation of your species would be a concern for many if your numbers have been that greatly reduced

optimus w/his fancy tyrest-lookin crown

oughdajbfsbdf and the fact that megatron ALSO murdered 100 BILLION non-cybertronians...bruh. I feel like they maybe should've dialed those numbers back a little to allow his ‘redemption arc’ to run a little smoother lmao. but also I admire the commitment either way

and then we end w/megatron doing captain stuff, and seeing The Coffin...and we never did see rodimus in any of the flash-forward parts of this issue, did we???? I love how concerning that is. where's my BOY

also of course we gotta remember the warning from way back at the beginning of mtmte: ‘don't open the coffin’....

and so begins mtmte s2! man I love s2. I love mtmte in general lmao. s2 takes on the impossible w/the whole ‘megatron redemption arc’ thing, and I know that’s like, a divisive plot point and stuff, but from a writing standpoint I enjoyed it a lot...I think it was pretty much as well done as it could've been given the enormity of the task, and I thought it was a really interesting direction for the story to go in 

also espec if it’s true that hasbro was like ‘hey jro put megatron in your story and give him a redemption arc’ rather than jro like, planning/asking to do it 

anyways. I doubt ill talk much abt the disc horse(tm) here bc this is just for fun and also my own personal opinions and whatever, but I for one am excited to reexperience this stuff 

so yeah s2 off to a strong start with some wild shit already happening! cant wait to read more!

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 57: Wasting Time with a New Friend

Lotor makes some new friends. Together, they discover that word of Lance and Keith's union has reached video game developers in the worst, best way.

Featuring Leakira in the role of comic relief (Not to offend Leakira fans, this is meant to be a fun, happy place. I just thought it might be funny little detail) XD

First  Previous  Next

Lotor finds them sleeping in a hallway. A much-needed distraction.

More specifically, it’s an adolescent Olkari with orange feelers, dressed in green and white garb stained with red dust. They’re incredibly small, even for a smaller species. Pretty adorable, like a wolf cub.

So obviously he nudges them with his foot.

“Can I help you?” the kit growls, amber eyes glaring up at him.

“You’re sleeping in a hallway.”

“And? What’s your point?”

“... You know what? I’m not really sure.”

With a groan, the kit sits up, tugging on their feelers. “So what are you up to, Mr. Prince?”

“Oh not much. Wandering around, looking for trouble.” He’s actually looking for a distraction, but that’s almost the same thing as trouble.

“Trouble, huh?” The Olkari smirks. “I’m Pidge. Lance’s resident tech genius and vent crawler- I mean spy.”

“Ah-haha, I see. You’re one of his ‘associates’.” Lotor grins, helps Pidge to their feet.

“Yes. Working for Lance usually involves some level of trouble. What are the princes up to today, anyway?”

“Lance is with Allura. She’s having a hard morning. Keith is with Thace, our emergency medic and reproductive specialist.”

“Oh, really? Making sure his junk works?”

“That’s the idea. Why?”

“It’d be awesome to have some dirt on Keith. He’s just so perfect.” Pidge skips down the hallway, a curious prince following behind them. “The worst thing he’s done is drink a bit too much, find his happy place at a party, and get really snuggly with Lance.”

Following Pidge into what should have been an old, empty storeroom, Lotor’s eyes widen in surprise. The typically ignored room is set up with monitors and a work table covered with Balmeran crystals and a few other tools.

“Where did you get some of these tools?” he asks, eyeing a choice laser of Galra design.

“I crawled through the tunnels underneath the actual labs and stole them. I’m welcome in the labs, of course. I just don���t want to share my work with them. The field of science is rife with thieves.”

“You found the tunnels already?” Lotor stares. There are tunnels all under the mountain, his ancestors making the massive peak into an insect hive. There are escape tunnels and hidden caches and underground pools and even a forge made of volcanic glass that he discovered as a small boy.

He still likes to go down there on the rare occasion he can find the time. Someday, he’ll take his children down there, and tell them all about the stories carved into the ancient walls.

“Yep! Anyway, let’s see if I can hack into Thace’s equipment. And by that I mean give me like, thirty ticks because I can definitely do it.” While Pidge types away on their computer, Lotor sits himself on the floor, eyeing a faint square cut into the stone. Most people don’t notice, don’t know to look for the fine edges carved into the floor. “Ooh… Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” Lotor asks. “Is Keith okay?”

“You really care for him, don’t you?” Amber eyes smile at him, intuitive.

“Of course I do! He’s my cousin! And my friend!” And he has more than his fair share of health problems. Lotor himself was not a healthy kit, so he understands the worries that his cousin might have.

“Aw-w. You’re just a big ol’ sweetheart, aren’t ya?” Pidge turns back to their computer. “What’s interesting is that Keith is… surprisingly healthy. His weight and body mass index are good… Thace is optimistic about a successful pregnancy.”

“Why is that interesting?” Lotor scratches his head, frowning a little.

“Because our boys requested contraceptives, probably due to health concerns.”

“Miscarriage risks are higher for him. That’s partially due to his sex, and partially due to his condition. Do you think they’ll use contraceptives?”

“Pfft. No. They’re young, they’re stupid, and they both want pups. I doubt Lance can keep it in his pants.”

“What about Keith?”

“He’s shy.” Pidge shrugs like that explains everything. It kind of does. Keith’s priorities are probably more of the cuddling variety than the ‘aggressive hugging’ variety. “Can I have some of your blood?”

“Hm? Uh… How much blood?”

“I dunno. A few vials? Maybe I’ll swab your cheek too? It might help with my experiments.”

“And what might those be?”

“I’m trying to invent Altean-friendly prosthetics. It’s not going well. Alteans are stupid inside and out.” Pidge gathers their tools to stick him, and Lotor stares. This tiny little Olkari is far more than they appear. “Who do you think will kill Lance for getting Keith pregnant? Krolia or Shiro?”

But they're young, still playful and carefree.

“Hm… My money’s on Krolia. Or the creepy friend.”

“Adam? Oh, he’s softer than he looks. More likely he’ll live vicariously through their children and terrorize anyone who tries to mess with them.” Pidge sticks a swab in his cheek as they fill a second vial with his blood. “Your fangs are adorable.”

“Thanks?” Lotor regards them. “So you do science, you do people… What don’t you do?”

“Relationships.” Pidge cleans the crook of his arm, bandaging the spot where they bled him. “And genders. Those are for more primitive individuals.”

Lotor laughs. “More highly evolved, are you?”

“Exactly. Unlike Alteans. Stupid, scaley assholes with stupid, cranky cells.”

“I don’t get it. What exactly is the problem?” Lotor peers over Pidge’s shoulder as they examine his cells under their microscope.

“Not sure, but Alteans have some odd properties that make their biology incompatible with metal, coral, bone, wood, and other prosthetic materials. When used, the Altean’s cells refuse to accept the forgein material, even if it’s biocompatible. Hence, their cells are stupid.”

“So it would seem. How are my cells?”

“Hm… I'll have to run some of my own, secret tests. I may try to culture your skin cells to figure out how it all works.”

“Have at it. Can I interest you in a secret?”

“Always!” The young Olkari’s eyes shine, eager to learn. To know. A person after his own heart.

“Most of Altea’s technology is rediscovered. Thousands of decaphoebs ago, there was what’s known as The Forgetting. The Altean’s powers were quite suddenly drastically altered, and their society descended into chaos. Much of their technology was lost, then rediscovered within the last few milophoebs.”

“No fucking way!”

“Way. This includes their lauded Teludav technology.”

“Those fakers! How have I not heard of this?”

“I know! It’s their best kept secret. Also, beneath Mount Sil’brana is a petrified forest.”

“Oh, that’s so cool!” Pidge makes a note on their datapad. “I wonder… I don’t know if I could interface with that or not. Probably not, since it’s no longer organic, but then again perhaps I could reach the echo?”

“Echo?”

“All organic life leaves behind an echo. Sometimes, I can reach that echo. I’d be great at solving murders!”

“Well, if ever I am murdered, do find my killer. I’m sure my wife would appreciate it.”

“Unless she did the murdering,” Pidge snickers.

“Some days, it wouldn’t surprise me at all. She’d say it’s my fault, but…”

“Pregnancy.”

“Yeah. How do you think Keith will be when he gets pregnant?”

“He’s relatively mild-mannered as long as Lance keeps him happy, so either unbelievably psychotic or unbearably sweet.”

“He is really sweet. I honestly didn’t expect it when he first arrived. Lance is a little… He’s reserved, but also high-strung at the same time?”

“He definitely can be. But he can also be very playful. Those two are either quiet and reserved together, or cutting up and goofing off together. But Lance is the high-strung one, for sure. Keith just wants to know whose head to crack open. Lance wants to know every single little detail about everything.”

“So he’s a control freak.”

“Little bit, yeah. We’ve all got our thing.” Pidge smiles. “But Lance gave me a home when mine was lost. He had no reason to do that. He didn’t know what I was capable of.”

“I had assumed you were on Altea for research?” Lotor's curious, but won't push.

“No. Though I do enjoy research. For example, I have the new Phantasm Killbot game. I just got to the first visual novel part where they introduce the characters and their little side plots and all. Wanna help me out? For research?” The Olkari holds up a controller.

“Yeah alright. Anything for research.” Lotor takes the controller, waits for the character introduction screen. He’s played this game before. “Player one… Leandro.”

“Player Two… Akira.”

The screen loads.

“Uh… That’s… Interesting. Is that- Does that look like Lance to you?” It really does, at least to Lotor. The only difference is that ‘Leandro’ has brown hair and his scales are a very pale blue.

“Wow, that’s weird. Okay. Let’s see where this goes- Oh my fuck, this is going to be good.”

Lotor can’t help but agree, staring at a screen of a smirking ‘Leandro’ lounging with a wide-eyed Galra presumably named ‘Akira’. The Galra has purple hair and golden irises, dressed in what might loosely be referred to as clothing.

It’s exceptionally weird, even weirder given that Akira is the name of Keith’s father, Lotor’s uncle.

“I cannot wait to tell my cousin about this,” Lotor breathes, coming to the realization of exactly what’s before him.

“Yes! We have to! Right now!” Pidge stands, tugs on his arm.

“Well, let’s not be too hasty.” Lotor stares at the screen, that mischievous part of his brain clicking and whirring. “I mean, we have to do our research, right?”

“You know…” Pidge taps their chin. “You might be onto something.”

“I mean it’s just courtesy, right? Making sure we can give them all the information we possibly can?”

“You’re absolutely right. Okay, so you get first choice for dialogue and it looks like Not-Keith has a prompt for us.”

“Oh, gods. Okay, I am so sorry, Keith… Let’s see, here.”

…

Akira: We can’t keep meeting like this. What if people find out?

Leandro: I’m a prince, my sweet. I do what I want.

Akira: But you could be killed!

Leandro: You’re worth dying for.

Leandro: It’s my fault, anyway. I just couldn’t resist you.

Akira: It’s not your fault. I let you have me.

Leandro: You should let me have you again.

Akira: Please… I need it…

*Kiss Passionately*

Leandro: Oh, my sweet. You’re in season!

Akira: Make love to me, and I will give you a son.

…

“I feel dirty,” Lotor mutters. “This is what’s passing for entertainment right now?”

“It’s so bad! I love it!” Pidge snickers.

“Lance is going to be mortified.”

“No, he won’t.” The two new friends turn to see Adam leaning in the doorway, smirking.

“And why, pray tell, is that?” Lotor asks, one eyebrow almost reaching his hairline.

“Lance is bigger than that. He’ll be filled with a sense of… well-being.”

“Oh, gross! Adam!” Pidge chucks a wrench at the Altean’s head, the trio laughing as he dodges, then retrieves it for them. “I don’t want to hear about my friend’s dick!”

“Am I wrong?”

“No, and I hate it.” Pidge drags Adam to the floor, sits in his lap. “Okay, you can help us. What should Leandro say next? ‘A daughter would be fine’ or ‘Honor me with the gift of your flesh’?”

“Who the quiznak wrote this?” Adam mutters. “And we want ‘Honor me with the gift of your flesh.’”

“I don’t know, but I will find out. And kill them,” Lotor mutters.

“Easy on the instincts, Mr. Prince.” Pidge continues to the next cut scene.

“It’s nothing to do with instincts! I just hate that I had to read that!” Lotor sighs. “At least that cut scene is over. Now we have… Brothers, Sven and Kuron? Lots of new characters for this one.”

Adam blinks, gaping at the screen. “What. The fuck-”

...

Allura sighs, running a hand through her loose curls. It's been a rough morning, one that doesn't promise to get easier. A howling chorus of laughter cuts through her stressed thoughts. Cracking open a storeroom, she spies her husband, Adam, and Pidge laughing away at a video game.

"I wOuLd DiE fOr AkIrA," Pidge mocks, cackling.

"Leandro, please!" Lotor laughs, cutting through a false simper as he pretends to swoon. "I couldn't live without you!"

"That's such a toxic sentiment, honestly." Adam shakes his head, but his eyes are glittering bright.

Shaking her head, Allura leans in the doorway, settling a hand on her slightly protruding stomach. Life is never perfect, not for anyone. But seeing her husband playing around and having fun with their friends -his new friends- suggests that everything might still turn out alright. Or at least, not as awful as it sometimes seems.

[heartofsnark]

A Hope County Christmas (Part One): The Resistance

Notes: Yes, this is late for Christmas and yes, that means the second part is gonna really fucking late for Christmas. But in my defense, I didn’t get the idea and started writing it until the 26th. It was originally suppose to be just one part, but it got real long and I lost some steam in the second part, so it’s gonna take me longer. So, have this and I’ll post the second part....maybe before 2020. I’ve been talking about my Deputy a lot over on my personal @morbidchild182 but this is the first writing I’ve posted with her. I’m still developing her and working on how I write the characters, so. 

Summary: It’s Christmas time in Hope County and as one might suspect, it can be hard to find any Christmas spirit to spare with Eden’s Gate waging their holy war. Junior Deputy Dahlia Hale fully suspects this holiday will be spent just as every last day has been spent since they tried to arrest Joseph Seed. But, between the Rye’s incurable optimism and the Seed’s...fascination with her, she can’t say she expected this. 

Word Count: 3032 

Warnings: Drinking, play fighting, dumb jokes, dumb christmas shenanigans, Ship Tease between Eli and my Deputy, Some sappy bullshit thrown in for good measure. There will be like Yandere Polyseed bullshit in the second part

A harsh cough echoes in Dahlia’s chest, a hacking noise and her lungs constrict. This is her first winter in Montana and it’s absolutely kicking her ass. Eden’s Gate could only hope of making her feel this shitty. Though, to her surprise the peggies haven’t been particularly active lately.

The Seed brothers are originally from Georgia, the deep south just like her, and she wonders if they’re as badly impacted by the cold as she is. Her leather jacket, uniform shirt and tee shirt under it are doing very little to keep out the chill as she rides her motorcycle through the Holland Valley wilderness. Nick and Kim called her over the radio asking her to head over. She’s hoping everything is alright, she’s not sure how much help she’ll be when she can barely feel her limbs.

She parks her motorcycle by the porch, pulling off her helmet and cringing as the cold air hits her face. There are little twinkling Christmas lights across their porch and the roof, even a few strings around the hangar. They’re beautiful, but a part of her worries about it just drawing in angels.

Dahlia rubs her hands together, trying desperate to regain some heat. Her red and irritated nose suddenly feels wet, is her nose running on top of everything? She goes to rub it away, but there’s a fleck of ice clinging to fingers. Something wet pats against her head, is it raining? She looks up towards the sky. Soft white flakes are drifting through the sky.

Snow.

It’s snowing. She’s only seen snow in movies and TV shows, the white puffy flakes touch her cheeks. Ideas of catching snowflakes on her tongue or having snowball fights flicker through her brain, but she disregards it immediately knowing she doesn’t have the time for horseplay.

“Something interesting up there, dep?”

“Huh,” she startles for a minute, seeing Nick standing on the porch and staring up at the sky, “no, sorry, I just, never seen snow before.”

“What, seriously?”

“Louisiana doesn’t get a lot of snow, seen a few hurricanes though.”

“Shit man, that’s just depressing.”

“As is most of my life.”

“Well, come on in.”

“Sure, but, uh, Nick, do you think the lights are a good idea? Might draw-“

Her voice catches in her throat as she steps into the Rye home, it looks like a Christmas wonderland. A giant ornate tree, Christmas music playing on the radio. A tall tree that the top of which nearly scrapes the ceiling, though it’s bare for some reason. Friendly faces all around; Jerome, Mary May, Grace, Sharky, Hurk, Adelaide, Xander, and Jess in a corner hiding away with Cheeseburger nestled at her side. Peaches is getting ear scratches from Sharky. Everyone except Jess is wearing obnoxiously colored Christmas sweaters.

“Those peggies have taken so much from us, I’ll be damned if they’re taking Christmas too,” Nick declares and she can’t help but smile at his determination.

A few barks ring out and before Dahlia knows it two dog paws have landed on her waist, Boomer demanding her attention. He’s almost as bad as John.

“Hey, boy,” she coos scratching behind his ears and laughing as he gives her a few kisses.

“Deputy,” Kim makes her way over, Boomer moving so she can give Dahlia a big hug, “I’m so happy you could make it out here, I know you’re busy with…everything. It means a lot.”

“Uh, what’s exactly going on, I thought you guys needed my help with something?”

“It’s a trap, Rook,” Jess calls out from her corner and Kim rolls her eyes.

“It’s a holiday party, we have one every year and we aren’t letting the peggies ruin it, here.” Kim hands over a white fluffy sweater, the less ugly of any of the ones she’s seen on her friends. When she unfolds it, she sees a little polar bear face with a sprig of mistletoe by its ear.

“Uh…”

“It’s Christmas, everyone has to wear a Christmas sweater.”

“Except Jess, she threatened to bite me,” Nick says, shooting a slightly fearful look towards the woman.

“I mean, I’d be happy to bite you too, hon,” Adelaide calls out with a flirtatious wink, Kim rolling her eyes as Nick visibly cringes.

“Please, dep, just put on the sweater.”

Dahlia shrugs her shoulders, if her wearing a damn sweater will make them even a little bit happier, it’s more than worth it. The couple has endured enough bullshit with Eden’s Gate, the least she can do is wear a damn sweater. She pulls off her leather jacket and uniform shirt.

“Woo, take it off!” Sharky yells out, grinning like a dumbass and Dahlia’s face flushes red, shooting her favorite pyromaniac a death glare before she tugs the sweater on over her tee.

It’s large, white, fluffy, and feels completely out of place on her. She feels like she looks odd without an outfit that’s at least ninety percent black.

“I can’t stay long,” Dahlia warns as she ties her hair back in a stubby ponytail.

“The lord does permit days of rest, Deputy.”

“Good for him, but I got shit to do,” She tells Jerome as she meanders towards a place to sit, eventually settling somewhere between Sharky and Jess, back tight against a wall and knees pulled up to her chest.

“You deserve a day to take it easy, here,” Kim hands her a mug of eggnog, an odd smell coming off it. It’s probably fine. She takes a drink and the burn of rum hits her, she nearly sputters. Kim laughing at her.

“Can’t handle your booze, Rook?” Grace asks, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Firstly, I legally can’t drink, secondly this is barely fuckin’ eggnog at this point.”

“Eh, who’s gonna arrest you, you?”

“You’re old enough to risk your ass for us, you’re old enough to drink,” Mary May says, taking a swig of her own drink.

Dahlia shrugs, she did drink a little when she was a minor, but stopped when she became a cop. Based on principle alone. But, fuck she’s never actually liked the taste. She’s not convinced anyone really does. At that same time, Nick steps into the room a Santa hat tilted on his head, where he’s stretched over his cap. In his arms are movies, games, and more booze.

“Ol’ Saint Nick!” Sharky yells out and a chorus of groans follow his stupid joke.

“Figure, we’ll watch a movie, get everyone in the spirit, before we play some games.”

“You mean get everyone drunk,” Kim teases, the only one not drinking the spiked eggnog.

“Same thing.” Nick grins and shrugs as he puts some Christmas movie in, Boomer lays against Dahlia’s side as the bullshit movie starts to play.

“What the hell is that woman doing?” An extra looks directly at the camera.

“Who the fuck talks like that?” The acting is awful.

“Oh god, child actors.” The child acting is worse.

“I’m like, pretty sure that’s a federal offense.” You can’t just look through someone’s mail.

“Eh, who hasn’t committed a federal offense.”

“Most people Sharky, most people.”

“Wait that’s the plot, getting her uncle a girlfriend, oh my god.” The plot is stupid

“Ooh, I wouldn’t mind him stuffing my stocking.” The main actor is easy on the eyes.

“Addie, no.”

“Wait, why the hell did he say it was done, if he hadn’t started cookin’ it yet?”

“Fantastic question.”

“What? What? What?!” This makes no sense.

“Holy shit, Adelaide in five years,” Dahlia blurts out when a perverted granny shows up.

“Five years!? How old do you think I am, Rook?!”

“No comment.”

“You don’t look a day over thirty.”

“She’s your aunt, Sharky.”

“Shut it.”

“Is she an elf? Oh my god, is she a fuckin’ elf?”

“Did she just realize she looks like she dressed in the dark?”

“She took her glasses off, so she’s no longer ugly, ‘cause…y’know.”

“The audio is so bad, holy shit, what are they even saying.”

“That looks awful.”

They’re about halfway through the movie, everyone finding every chance to chime in some comment about the crap on screen. She’s drained two mugs of the spiked eggnog, her cheeks red from booze and laughing. Dahlia’s lost count of how many cookies she’s crammed into her mouth.

The movie finishes and she no longer feel like she’s in any state to take on a cult. Not drunk, but tipsy as all hell. Judging by the flushed cheeks around her, no one is any better off except Kim who once credits are rolling suggest making ornaments and decorating the tree.

Trusting drunk dumbasses to decorate the tree, brilliant.

It’s a disaster. Of course, it is.

Jerome makes some decent angel ones, but the religious aesthetic of anything has been ruined for everyone lately. Mary May’s Santa is holding a beer. Jess’s just has ‘Fuck Off’ scribbled across it. Xander and Adelaide keep trying to have sex puns about crafts, too drunk for any of them to be subtle. Grace’s gun ornament is surprisingly well done, but not particularly Christmas-y. Nick’s attempt to make a plane looks like a lumpy disaster. Hurk and Sharky keep trying to put a dick and or flames on everything. At some point someone throws glitter.

It was her.

Sharky tried to draw a dick on her star, so she started throwing glitter at his dumb face. Now there’s glitter everywhere, the Rye’s home will never be free of it. Also, there’s gold glitter glue on her hands and hair where she tried to push it back, because tools are for fools.

Then her radio crackles to life, ah fuck, she tries to rub the worse of the glue off onto her jeans before grabbing it.

“Hey,” she manages to slur even the shortest word and everyone her is snickering.

“Deputy, it’s Eli from the Whitetails.”

“I don’t know any other Eli, you don’t have to clarify, Mountain Man.”

“Right, uh, sorry. Heard about the Rye’s party, knew you were over that way. I, uh, wanted to make sure you weren’t running yourself ragged.”

“Wanted to check in on his girlfriend,” Wheaty teases in the background and Dahlia’s face flushes brighter red, not from the booze. Everyone around her starts to laugh

“Don’t you have something else to do?” Eli retorts and she can practically hear the embarrassment in his voice.

“Don’t worry, Eli, I’m at the Rye’s being supplied with way too much booze.”

“That’s good, well not good that you’re getting drunk, not that I care if you get drunk, I don’t think. I just mean it’s good you’re with friends and y’know what, I’ll stop talking.”  

She can’t help but laugh, he hasn’t been this awkward with her since he talked about shaving his beard and wondering if it made him look crazy.

“Hey, maybe next time I’m in that area, we can see if we can convince Chad to make some Christmas grub and have a little celebration at the Wolf’s Den?”

Why did she make that offer, she didn’t even want one celebration, why is she doing this? It’s so impractical, why the fuck would Eli want that? She pushes hair back out of her face, she’s so stupid.

“That sounds nice.”

“It does? It does. Cool.”

“Well, uh, Merry Christmas, Rook.”

“Merry Christmas, Eli.”

The radio call ends, and Dahlia lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, all eyes are on her. Some confused and others smirking at the little exchange.

“Never knew you liked ‘em older, deputy.”

“Fuck off.”

“You really shouldn’t have done that to your hair either,” Jess tells her, smirking. Her bangs fall back in her face and Dahlia sees the gold glitter glue now clinging to the dark locks.

“God damn it.”

“Looks like you were too distracted drooling over your mountain man,” Jess mocks Dahlia with an overly sappy voice. Dahlia smirks back, revenge already in her mind.

“Aww,” she cups Jess’s cheeks in her two-glitter glue covered hands, “that was so cute of you.” Dahlia smears it down Jess’s cheeks leaving a mess.

Jess’s green eyes narrow, a weaker woman might freak out at the anger shown in them. But, Dahlia knows too well that there’s a hint of mischief there, it’s all in good fun. The Junior Deputy pulls her hands away from the Survivalist’s face.

“No killing in the house,” Kim warns and that’s all that’s said before Jess is launching over the table to try to grab Dahlia who’s already dropped down and jolted under it, the two switching sides before the deputy breaks into a run.

Their movements are clumsier and slower than usual, booze slowing them down. Dahlia takes the stairs two at a time, giggling as she tries to evade her friend. Jess’s hands nearly latch onto her sweater and Dahlia promptly jumps over the stair banister, boots hitting the floor with a heavy thud.

“No breaking your ankles in the house!”

“Sorry, Kim, oh god!”

Jess is on Dahlia’s back, bringing her down to the ground and laughing as the deputy collapses under her weight. She’s trying to put her in a headlock, as Dahlia attempts to wrestle out of it. The entire party laughing at their horseplay. She swears she hear Sharky or Hurk saying something about needing a mud pit, but she’s too focused on play wrestling to yell at the perverts.

Her radio crackles again and through the struggling Dahlia manages to answer it.

“Rook, heard the Rye’s invited you over for Christmas,” Whitehorse’s voice comes through.

“That they did,” she struggles to respond as she’s using one hand to fend off Jess.

“Hey, sheriff!”

“He can’t see you waving Nick.”

Dahlia cracks, a fatal mistake as Jess uses it to get the headlock.

“Good, I was worried about you, Rook, thought you’d be running around while everyone else took the day off. I know shit’s tough right now but taking time to celebrate the little stuff is what’s gonna keep you going. Merry Christmas.”

“You guys doing anything special at the jail?” She asks as she tries to squirm away, finally just giving up and trying to stand up with Jess on her back and arms around her neck. It’s a piss poor excuse for a piggyback ride, but whatever.

“Virgil’s trying to get someone to cut down a tree, Tracey ain’t having any of it.”

“I can do that.”

“You’re not chopping down a Christmas tree, Rook, Jesus Christ,” Tracey grumbles in the background.

“You’ve already done more than enough, hell, if it wasn’t for you…well there are a lot of people who wouldn’t be here to see Christmas this year. Enjoy your party.”

“Yeah…Merry Christmas.”

Dahlia feels her eyes sting, she doesn’t expect praise or even acknowledgment of the things she’s done. It still seems so foreign, the idea that she’s actually saved people. That people are here, alive and safe, because of her actions. She can never see herself as a hero, but to some people she truly is.

Jess’s arms on her loosen, before the woman just hops right off of her. A soft smile replacing the mischievous little grin. She squeezes Dahlia’s shoulder, a silent understanding that Jess is one of those people. If not for Dahlia, she’d be spending this Christmas in a cage, if she was lucky. But, now she’s spending it in a rare moment of joy and peace.

“Come on, we gotta decorate the tree..”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Jess and Dahlia rejoin the party, feral energy out of their system for the time being. The tree looks like a mess. Everyone’s ornament a disaster and the whole thing looking like an incomprehensible disaster. Nothing goes together. None of it makes sense, but it has…character. Dahlia goes to hang her own bad star ornament after hanging the last bit of tinsel. But, it’s nowhere to be found.

“Here,” Kim hands it to her, but the sloppily coated star no longer has a string, instead on a little cap to be used as the tree topper. It’s an extremely sweet gesture, but…

“I can’t reach.” Dahlia makes a show of trying to stretch her hand up to touch the top of the tree, only to come up embarrassingly short.

“Don’t worry, I gotcha bromigo,” Hurk declares before hefting Dahlia up onto his shoulders, she can’t help but laugh, but places her messy star at the top of the tree. Hurk putting her back down with ease.

“It’s certainly…different.”

“It always an adventure to see how it turns out every year.”

“I’m sure it.”

Another crackle from her radio.

“Who’s calling now?” Nick asks, taking another drink of eggnog.

“Eh, probably just Dutch checking in,” Dahlia answers it, “don’t worry, I’m at the party and I’m taking a break for Christmas.”

“That’s wonderful to know, dep-yoo-tee,” John’s voice sobers her, like a bucket of ice water’s splashed in her face, the entire party going silent as he drags out each syllable.

“The fuck do you want?”

“Easy now, Little Miss Wrath, I haven’t even done anything and you’re already foaming at the mouth.”

“Yet, you haven’t done anything, yet.”

“Someone who doesn’t believe in prophets, claiming to know the future, how ironic.”

“Get to the point, Johnny Boy.”

“I do hope, you’ll be more patient once you fully join our family.”

“You got five more seconds before I hang up and get back to drinking. One, two,-”

“While we don’t celebrate Christmas quite the same as sinners do, the holidays still marks an important time of togetherness.”

“Good for you…Can I go now?”

“Me, my brothers and sister like to spend this time of year together, as a family.”

“I’m gonna blow my brains out from boredom, Johnny.”

“A family dinner requires the whole family, dep-yoo-tee, even the members who’ve yet to accept their role.”

“Are…are you threatening to kidnap me for Christmas dinner?!”

“Depends, will you come of your own volition?”

“Fuck no.”

“Then, I’m afraid you leave me no choice. I’ll be seeing you shortly, dear.”

[coasterchild]

once again, twitter got me all riled up thinking about Star Wars, so for mostly my own peace of mind here are:

The character arcs we DESERVED in TRoS

-Rey 

Learning to shoulder the burden, like Luke before her, of being the One True Savior of the Galaxy. People depend on her, they expect her to be a Hero and a Jedi and beyond failure. Leia tries to keep her grounded, but she pushes herself too hard. (this is where I'd throw Ahsoka in to help her achieve balance) (maybe a cameo from luke force ghost later on. "How did you do this, Luke. How did you do this alone?" "I was never alone. And neither are you.") She has a breakthrough when she's fighting something herself, a big monster or too many first order troops or a handful of tie fighters or whatever. She tells everyone to go, get to safety, she'll hold them off. 

Poe, Rose, and some assortment of droids do as they're told, disappearing around a corner. 

Rey is repelling blaster bolts or slicing tentacles (of course it has tentacles) or whatever, and she's nearly overwhelmed when she feels a hand on her shoulder. It's Finn, he looks terrified, and just as another attack approaches, a shockwave of a Force push emanates in a radius around them. Rey: "How did you do that?!" Finn: "I don't know!!" and they both take off running. Finn (there's some indication that he's a natural at sensing things in the Force) can detect where attacks will be coming, and uses it to make their escape clean. Poe, Rose & co swoop in just in time with a stolen imperial shuttle. (they had no intention of leaving her behind either)

There’s perhaps a poignant scene with Kylo where he makes some comment about her facing him alone. And she’s like “I’m not alone, and you don’t have to be either.”

With new found confidence, she faces off with the big bad. (I'm assuming still Palpatine here, but I'm VERY open to other options.) Redeemed Ben is there, fights happen, it basically goes down as it does in the movie (minus the Rey Palpatine nonsense), but now “I am every Jedi” is about the fact that she’s not alone, not ever. She has the power to defeat ol’ sheev because of those who came before her, the people who fight with her now, and her own strength of will to see it through. 

(also Finn’s voice is in the every Jedi thing, because he can feel her reaching out, asking for help without realizing it)

-Finn

Having committed himself to the Resistance after the events of TLJ, Finn is finally starting to feel comfortable in his role. His cause is just, there are people here who love him (rey and poe and rose!!), and he’s GOOD at what he does. 

Some plot device or another takes their merry band to a planet that has just managed to fight off the First Order presence plaguing them. They learn it was when the inhabitants were informed there would be another “Harvest”, which we eventually learn means officers backed by troopers with, just, so many blasters, go into homes and take children, usually infants and toddlers, as recruits. This planet has been a target before, and this time, they refused. At great cost. 

Anyway, yadda yadda yadda: WE MEET FINN’S PARENTS. Maybe he has a little sister?? Maybe she shows signs of having……… THE FORCE.. (Finn: when was the last Harvest? Mysterious parental figure: oh I’d say around [exactly when Finn was taken]) (Maybe he’s a SECRET PRINCE???) Anyway…

It’s a lot to take in, he has some heart-to-hearts with people, eventually they have to move on for plot reasons, but Finn has a home to go back to now. He never thought he’d have that.

And Finn is going through all kinds of emotional growth because GUESS WHAT in the final battle (don’t worry Jannah’s still there and they ride in on space horsies because that was great.), Finn (with Rose’s help!!) gains access to the Final Order inter-ship communication system and broadcasts a message offering amnesty and safe harbor for any trooper who stands down. Who stops taking life in defense of control and fear and starts living for the sake of Hope.

 Then, when Poe and the other pilots think they're beat, one of the star destroyers turns on the others. And then another. And it's not the whole fleet, but a few mutinied ships just might be enough to buy them the time they need…

Maybe there’s a dramatic pause where Poe is like “we’re outgunned. We can’t do anything all alone out here.” And Finn, noticing a SD turning its cannon at another, “Poe… I don’t think we’re alone.” Explosion! Cheers!! This is the legacy of FN-2187

-Poe

Poe!!! So he’s been given more authority in the Resistance, and he’s learned from TLJ. He’s still daring and wisecracking and undeniably poe, but with Leia’s guidance and Holdo’s example he’s become more measured, more thoughtful in planning his missions. And the success rate of the Resistance has improved because of it.

But now that he gives himself time to breathe, time to THINK, Poe finds dealing with the losses they do suffer harder and harder to bear. We get some juicy background stuff about his mom, about how his father took the news of her death, and how he wanted, more than anything, to live up to her. (none of the spice running backstory happens. If Zorri exists she’s actually given some kriffing THOUGHT as a character and not just a prop to affirm Poe’s alleged heterosexuality)

I’m not 100% sure how this one plays out. There’s definitely a Leia pep talk in there somewhere. She tells him that Shara would be so proud of him. EMOTIONS.

Ooh, there could be some good Lando moments too (especially to pick up the slack regarding obvious limitations with Carrie’s part). He knows what it’s like to make impossible decisions because you’re responsible for people. 

“Responsibility is heavy, and it might always feel like someone else is more qualified or more capable or more prepared to face it, but remember: One of the most capable people I’ve ever met tells me you’re the right one for the job. The only one she trusts to get it done. And when Leia Organa says she needs you, you do what you can, son. You do what you can, and when you make a mistake, you go back and you fix it. Getting hung up on anything else will drag you down, and I have it on good authority that you were meant to be in the sky, General Dameron.” 

-Rose is kind of our audience surrogate for Finn’s journey. She has to grapple with the fact that most if not all of the stormtroopers they face are never actually given a choice in what they fight for, and what that might mean for their tactics. She helps him realize that learning where he comes from doesn’t replace who he’s made himself into, it only adds to it. 

After the war, she oversees efforts to rebuild planets like Finn’s, to help them recover from the effects of First order occupation. Maybe Chewie goes with her!!

Finn Rey and Poe live happily ever after in Finn’s palace home, and maybe every so often people--sometimes parents with a young child exhibiting certain gifts, sometimes a teenager who can’t explain why rocks tend to float when they get excited about something, and all kinds of other folks, young and old--come knocking, saying they want to learn the ways of the Skywalker. 

[vagrantblvrd]

A Thousand Miles Up (1/1)

Summary: As far as these things go, Trevor’s pretty good at not getting caught. Has made something of a career out of it even, you might say, so this - 

Not really his best day.

Notes: Prompt fill for Anonymous who asked for Alfreyco with this prompt: 65: “Did you do something different with your hair?” 

Takes place in the same verse as Cat Scratch Fever, Belling the Cat, and No Road Too Long.

AO3

As far as these things go, Trevor’s pretty good at not getting caught. Has made something of a career out of it even, you might say, so this -

Not really his best day.

Not even in the running for the top forty.

It isn’t as though he’s forgotten how dangerous his line of work is (no way to do that, really, with so many helpful reminders), or underestimating his targets (he learned not to do that a while back).

It’s just...bad luck.

Trevor bites back a laugh (now is not the time) as he studies the little room they’ve got him all locked up in.

Four walls (always a must). Floor that dips down with a little grate in the center (best not think about why), and a small window set high up on one of those four walls.

Slit of a thing, four, five inches high at most and try as he might, Trevor’s never going to fit through it.

No, no.

Just this tiny room and the chair Trevor’s sitting in. Hands behind his back and this bunch is smarter than most because those aren’t handcuffs he could pick with his eyes closed, no.

Heavy-duty zip-ties that he can’t break without the proper tools (the reason he prefers footwear with laces when he’s working) or the proper leverage. (Zip-ties on his wrists and another connecting them to the back of the metal chair he’s sitting in, simple but effective.)

All his little gadgets and doodads taken off him when they caught him, that sharp little ache in his shoulder, back, where the darts hit him and this pounding in his head from the tranquilizer. The bruises he can all but feel forming because he was nearly out the window when his body decided it had had enough and shut down on him.

He still has his mask, though, so very thoughtful of them considering the way his reputation’s caught up to him here in Los Santos.

Press all abuzz at his return, questioning the whys and hows of it.

Those with a flair for the dramatic wondering if something’s forced him out of retirement – a bad case of revenge or something else. A few brave souls wondering if he isn’t just a copycat looking for attention. (Moment of glory before some lucky bastard gets a shot at him and what a tragic story it makes, perfect for movie with a plot ripped straight from the headlines.)

And then there’s the criminal element, old clients and targets both, taking an interest in his reappearance in the best/worst ways and the trouble that’s followed him here. (Well, the smattering of trouble that followed him here, along with all new kinds he runs into these days.)

Trevor sighs as the door opens, and the leader of this particular little group saunters in. Bit of a swagger to his walk, this unbearably smug look on his face as he stops in front of Trevor.

Trevor gets a glimpse of his little cronies through the open door before it closes. Intimidating figures in their uniforms and the kind of training they’d exhibited earlier when they managed to catch him. Not people to be toyed with and expect to get away with things for long.

“Well, well, well,” the man says, all annoying smugness and this certain element of sheer delight. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

Trevor makes a face, almost wishing he didn’t have his mask on because that’s just an awful thing to say, now isn’t it.

“Oh, hey, let me help you with that,” Trevor hears, and then there are hands slipping behind his head to pull his mask off, cool air on his skin and face bared for just anyone to see. (Scandalous.)

Trevor blinks up at the man studying his mask. Thoughtful look on his face as he turns it this way and that, fingers running over the deep scratch a little too close one of the eye-lenses for Trevor’s peace of mind. (Token from an admirer on a previous job, sweet little nothings and that knife he seemed so fond of.)

“I keep meaning to get it replaced,” Trevor says, nodding at the mask. “But I’ve just been so busy this last little while. You know how it is.”

Places to break into, things to steal, the usual.

The man snorts, and gives up studying whatever secrets he seems to think he can pull from Trevor’s mask and moves on to Trevor himself.

“Ooh,” Trevor says, returning the favor as he tips his head to the side. “Did you do something different with your hair?”

It’s been a while since they’ve run into each other after all, Trevor out of Los Santos for work. (Busy, busy, busy.)

There’s a beat, the man looking at him all incredulous and the like, and then a self-conscious laugh.

“Uh, yeah,” he says as he lifts a hand to his hair, just shy of touching it. “Thought I’d try something new, you know? What do you think?”

Trevor hums, thinking, thinking, thinking about it, just to be a bit of an asshole about things.

“Well,” he says, drawing the word out a few extra syllables before he smiles. “I think it looks great. Very sharp. Professional.”

He gets a laugh for that, almost embarrassed, and a shy little smile inching it’s way back to unbearably smug again.

“Yours, uh -”

“Perils of the job,” Trevor says, because he’s well aware his own hair is a disheveled mess. Flat and lifeless thanks to his suit and running around the way he was earlier. “Sacrifices must be made and so on and so forth.”

There’s a whole speech involved. One Trevor’s saving for a dire moment for the most dramatic impact, but that’s neither here nor there.

Not with the way he’s being watched, eyes flicking over him, taking in all the little hurts that comes with his line of work.

Small bruises, a cut here and there. Scrapes and other odds and ends from flinging himself at the side of a building and shimmying way along ledges. Crawling through vents and ducts and  that thrill of satisfaction as he evaded guards and magicked his way to the heart of the building and got his little hands on the files he was hired to steal.

The...less successful escape he’d attempted and the surprise at realizing he’d been outmaneuvered almost from the outset.

Not something that happened all that often, but given who he was playing against here, he’s not entirely surprised.

No.

“So,” Trevor says, pulling at his binds, soft sound of plastic against the metal of the chair catching his captor's attention. “What now?”

And oh, the look he gets for that. Very NSFW indeed, but the minions are on the other side of the door and they’re still both on the clock, so to speak.

“My dear sir,” Trevor says, putting a little Southern belle into it as he offers up his most scandalized look. “How dare you, I am a lady.”

That earns him another look, this one flatly unimpressed. (Definitely questioning his honor and integrity.)

Also, a knife.

Big shiny thing he gets a good view of before his captor moves behind him, slight tugging motion as he cuts through the zip-ties.

Trevor rubs his wrists when he brings his arms in front of him, eyeing his captor as the man moves to stand before him again.

There’s a sympathetic smile on his face.

“Bad night?”

Trevor could let it go at that, chalk it up to him being off his game. Still some rust to shake off, but the fact of the matter is that’s not the truth at all, now is it.

“Hmm, no,” Trevor says, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Your minions are getting better, Fredo.”

Have been for some time, really.

Geoff and Alfredo taking advantage to Trevor’s unique skill-set to test their own security. Learning to anticipate the unexpected and all that lovely business, getting only enough warning to know which target Trevor’s set his eyes on so they’d know to switch out their more lethal weapons for tranquilizer darts and tasers and the like. (Non-lethal but still damn inconvenient.)

Trevor headed for a lovely little prize of his choosing while Alfredo and his minions were meant to stop him from succeeding. All fun and games, really. Trevor running rings around them for months, Alfredo the only one good enough to get close enough to him in all that time.

Cat-and-mouse chases through various facilities, rooftop meetings, and Trevor laughing at the frustrated look on Alfredo’s face as he got away time and time again.

...until tonight, that is.

“Yeah?” Alfredo says, losing the sharp edge that had led his minions through tonight’s exercises. Going soft and familiar as anything as he looks down at Trevor. “You think so?”

Trevor smiles up at him.

“Would I lie to you about something like that, Alfredo?”

A great many other things, yes indeed, for better or worse, but this?

“Well,” Alfredo says, mimicking Trevor’s little drawl from earlier. “The thought had crossed my mind.”

Well, yes, okay.

Point to Alfredo, but they’re working right now, aren’t they?

“No,” Trevor says, all honesty now. “They are getting better. Smitty almost caught me when I snuck in, in fact. Kudos to her.”

Alfredo cocks his head, and Trevor sighs, oh so very put out as he goes into detail regarding Alfredo’s minions and the ways in which they’re improving.

This bunch of misfits and outcasts Geoff’s gathered to him and decided the best person to ride herd on them now that he has is Alfredo. Letting him run them through drills and exercises to mold them into this impressive force unfailingly loyal to Geoff and the crew.

It’s been so very entertaining watching play out as Trevor sows chaos and confusion among them with these little exercises.

After a few minutes Trevor realizes Alfredo’s watching him, this little curl to his mouth that’s all about fondness and affection and what a giant sap he is, which is fitting seeing as Trevor’s in the same boat when it comes to Alfredo.

“What.”

“Nothing,” Alfredo says, completely suspiciously as he gestures at Trevor’s face. “You just have something here.”

Trevor’s eyes narrow, because that’s one of the oldest tricks in the book isn’t it, but he still raises a hand to wipe whatever it is (isn’t) off, only for Alfredo to make this little face.

“No, no,” Alfredo says, and there's a little smirk tucked into his voice, the line of his mouth. “Here, let me.”

Trevor eyes him for a long moment before he tips his face up.

Absolutely not surprised at all when Alfredo kisses him, this cheeky little thing like he thinks he’s gotten away with stealing a kiss from him all clever-like.

“There,” Alfredo says, pulling back, smug little grin on his face and a sparkle in his eye. “Got it.”

“My hero,” Trevor says dryly.

Alfredo laughs, holding a hand out to help Trevor to his feet.

They still need to debrief Alfredo’s minions. Go over everything that happened tonight. Talk about ways to deal with   situations like this in the future, Trevor offering up tips and advice on what to expect from people like him. (Tricky and clever and not the sort to abide by the usual rules. Innovators, really, in the business of liberating trinkets and other valuables from the undeserving.)

Not what he’d been expecting when he followed Alfredo out here, but it’s certainly never dull.

[yeehawbisexualold]

You're a Marshmallow, Emma Swan

A CS Veronica Mars AU.

Rated T. 4.3k words. (1/?)

A/N The first chapter very closely follows the pilot in order to set up the characters and plot. Future chapters may not be as verbatim. Also, words in italics are used to represent voice-overs. Although David will be her father, I decided to keep Emma’s last name as Swan because Veronica Mars is such a distinctive name and so is Emma Swan and I don’t think Emma Nolan or the Nolan family would pack quite the same punch.

Welcome to Storybrooke high school. If you go here, your parents are either millionaires or work for millionaires. Storybrooke, California, a town without a middle class. If you’re in the second group, you get a job—fast food, movie theaters, mini-marts. Emma Swan’s after school job means tailing philandering spouses or investigating false injury claims.

She gets out of her car, a beat up, yellow bug, to see a crowd formed around the school’s flagpole. The source of the crowd’s interest, she finds, is a naked boy, duct taped, precariously to cover his private bits, to the pole with the word snitch (misspelled as “snich”) painted across his bare chest. She pushes through the hoard of spectators, gawking at the scrawny boy’s misfortune. “Who’d that guy rat out?” “Why doesn’t somebody cut him down?” “Yeah, I’ll do it. I wanna be the guy up there tomorrow.”

Reaching into her pocket, she tells the guy snapping a selfie on his phone to move.

“Who died and made you the queen?” the jack ass asks as she pulls out her pocket knife. He backs away silently when she snaps it open near his face.

“You’re new here, huh?” she asks the kid as she begins sawing away the duct tape near his wrists. He nods. “Welcome to Storybrooke High.” The bell for class rings and as the crowd begins to disperse, she sardonically cheers “Go Pirates!”

She cuts away enough to free him but leaves him with the pieces that protect his modesty.

In advanced placement English, she rests her head on her desk, falling asleep to the sound of her droning teacher’s voice.

“Did anybody complete the reading?” the woman inquires, removing her glasses. “Emma? Emma Swan, congratulations you’re my volunteer. Pope, An Essay On Man, lesson one.”

“Hope springs eternal in the human breast: Man never is, but always to be blest. The soul, uneasy and confined from home, rests and expatiates in a life to come,” she speaks from memory.

“And what do you suppose Pope meant by that?” the teacher quizzes.

She twiddles her fingers. “Life’s a bitch until you die.”

“Thank you, Miss Swan, for that succinct and somewhat inappropriate response.”

~

Random locker searches are the latest tactic the administration has adopted in its losing war on drugs. Except for Emma Swan, the searches aren’t random. She knows when they’re going to happen before Vice Principle “Grumpy” does. (His real name is Leroy but the students of Storybrooke aren’t much for respecting authority.

“Emma Swan. This should be good,” one of Sheriff Zelena Mills’ lackeys says with a smirk.

“Will you please open your locker?” Grumpy asks.

She twists in her combination and swings open the door to reveal a perfectly bare locker. Well, bare to the exception of a photo of Grumpy framed by a red heart and taped to the metal door

“Wow,” she huffs with a grin. “This is a little embarrassing.”

~

Emma sits alone at a round, red plastic lunch table, stabbing her disposable fork into the atrocity the school calls lunch. She stares blankly across the outdoor cafeteria at a group of rowdy students.

I used to sit there, at that table. It’s not like my family met the minimum net worth requirement. My dad didn’t own his own airline like Greg Mendell’s or serve as Ambassador to Belgium like Tamara’s. But my dad used to be the sheriff and that had a certain cache. Let’s be honest though. The only reason I was allowed past the velvet ropes was Neal Hood, son of software billionaire Robin Hood. He used to be my boyfriend. Then one day, with no warning, he ended things.

The most obnoxious of the students perches himself on Neal’s lap, rubbing his chest as he smirks at Emma.

And let’s not forget Killian Jones. His dad makes 20 million a picture. You probably own his action figure. He built his career on being the British bad boy and his son tries his damnedest to upstage his levels of naughtiness. Every school has an obligatory, psychotic jack ass. He’s ours.

Neal pushes him off and turns his attention back to Tamara who’s snuggled herself up against his side and Killian simply sits next to him clapping his hands together and pointing at Emma with a wild grin.

A figure sits down across from her, partially blocking her vision of Killian’s antics.

“You ok?” they ask, startling her out of her focused glare.

“What?“ 

It’s the kid she cut down earlier.

“You look, I don’t know, hypnotized.” He explains, opening his lunch.

“Did I say you could sit here?” she snaps at him. As soon as he stands, shoving his lunch back in the bag, she feels remorse. Killian pisses her off but that’s no reason to treat the new kid, who’s already had a rough enough first day, like shit. “Wait. Of course, you can sit here.”

He sits back down with a smile.

“That was cool what you did.”

Before she can respond, she’s interrupted by a voice behind her.

“My bitch. Weren’t you supposed to wait for me at the flagpole?” The bare sleeved, tattooed interrupter crouches down and gets in the kids face. “I’m not sure I could have made that any clearer.”

The kid looks like he’s going to shit his pants. 

“Leave him alone,” Emma demands and the guy turns his attention to her.

“Love, the only time I care what a woman has to say is when she’s riding my big ole hog and even then it’s not so much words as just a bunch of oohs and aahs, ya know?” He asks planting himself in front of her.

“So it’s big, huh?”

“Legendary.”

“Well, let’s see it. I mean if it’s as big as you say, I’ll be your girlfriend.” She smiles brightly and gasps as if she’s just had a thought. “We could go to prom together!”

When he just laughs and leans back she continues “What seems to be the problem? I’m on a schedule here.”

“Dude, don’t let blondie talk to you like that!” his friend chimes in.

“Sounds like your buddy here wants to see it too.”

“Hell, I’ll show you mine!” the buddy shouts but is interrupted by Grumpy, arriving to break up the disturbance and ask Emma why trouble follows her around.

“So what did you do?” she asks the ‘snitch,’ who’s name she learns is Henry, after everyone clears away from the table. If she just confronted Will Scarlet, the leader of the local biker gang, she deserves to know what she was standing up for.

He explains how he works at the local gas station and while he was working alone last night, some of the guys walked in and stole alcohol from the store, stuffing bottles in their jackets and only paying for a pack of gum. He tripped the silent alarm but when the police came—"We don’t have police here. We have a sheriffs department.“—and he went outside, he realized an entire gang sat in the parking lot. Intimidated by all of the guys, he told the sheriff he pressed the alarm by accident. “You need to go see the wizard, ask him for some guts.” The sheriff told him before hauling the two bikers away.

“Go see the wizard? She said that?” Emma asks once he’s finished his story. “Congratulations, in your short time here, you’ve already managed to piss of the biker gang and the local sheriff.”

~

She heads to her fathers P.I. office, Swan Investigation, after school and is surprised to find Regina Hood’s car there. She hates Emma almost as much as she loves her son.

She sits down at the reception desk and busies herself with paperwork, waiting for Regina to walk out. Ingrid, the local, low-level lawyer walks in and offers “her father” a case to discover how the strip club her client works for keeps their liquor license and help her client make a deal.

After Ingrid leaves, Regina walks out of her father’s office.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, David. I don’t like you,” she says coolly, strutting past in her clean, pressed, white pantsuit, her chin tilted back in an air of arrogance. She turns her icy gaze to Emma. “I hate the fact that I’m here. But I know if anyone will be dogged and resourceful in this matter, it’ll be you. Don’t call me at home, I’ll call you.”

And then she’s gone, the air feeling decidedly less chilly without her presence.

Sure she’s a bitch. But can you blame her? After all, dad did try to send her husband to jail for life.

Her dad joins her to eat and she attempts to figure out why Regina was here. He ignores her attempts at questioning him, joking about the plastic resemblance of the cheese on their sandwiches. But after enough grilling, he reveals that Regina believes her husband Robin is having an affair—late nights and motels—and that he took the case because they need the money.

“Good, I would have been pissed if you hadn’t.”

“I wouldn’t have cared if you were.”

They continue eating together until the phone rings and her father announces he has to leave for a trip to El Paso, demanding she leaves the Hood case alone. She nods in response, knowing full well she’s lying.

~

She follows Robin Hood to his office. As she sits in her car, staring up into the windows of the building, she thinks about her best friend Milah, Robin’s daughter. Leaning back against the seat she recalls the pep squad car wash they worked in October of last year, both of them wearing the tight t-shirt and shorts combo, Emma with her hair in pigtails and Milah with hers long and loose.

“I’ve got a secret, Emma Swan,” she giggled, conspiratorially as she rubbed a soapy sponge along the hood of a car. 

Those were the last words Emma ever heard from Milah. Later that night, she was found dead by her pool.

Emma’s father had been driving her home when he received a call about a disturbance at the Hood estate. When they arrived, David instructed her to stay in the car. But she saw Neal, sitting on a bench with his arms tucked around himself, rocking back and forth, his face ashen and his eyes wide, filled with an emotion to this day she can not name. All it took was one look at him and she was rushing in the house to see what happened.

“Where’s Milah?” she asked, her chest tight. All he could offer in response was a scrunched brow and a mouth, shaking into a frown.

Outside she found the area swarming with cops, a grieving couple, and by the pool, the lifeless body of her dead best friend—eyes wide and unseeing, blood dripping down her face from the gaping wound above where her temple met her scalp.

But everyone knows the story, the murder of Milah Hood. It was on the cover of People Magazine. It made entertainment tonight. The town was flooded with journalists. And of course, everyone remembers the bumbling, local sheriff. The one who went after the wrong man.

That bumbling sheriff was my dad.

Six weeks after Milah’s death, her crime scene video was leaked by someone in the sheriff department. In a matter of hours, millions of people around the world had seen the grizzly footage. Someone had to be held responsible and that someone was David Swan.

“So, Swan, does your dad still think that Milah’s father did this?” Killian confronted her in the school computer lab. “That’s my girlfriend. Your friend. Neal’s sister. Your dad is destroying the Hood family. What’s the matter with you people? What’s the matter with you?”

She knew he was lashing out because he was hurt but so was she. When he maliciously spit out the words, “I’m done with you.” She thought good because she couldn’t help but hate him a little bit for the way he was treating her.

Her father’s belief that Robin was the murderer no longer mattered. An emergency recall removed him from office and the investigation was no longer in his hands. Her mother wanted to move out of Storybrooke. The loss of status and loss of income was too much for her.

They had to move because they could no longer afford to stay in their house but Emma and David were not going to be run out of town.

~

A pair of Milah’s shoes were later discovered on the house boat of one Triton King and her father’s successor, Sheriff Zelena Mills’ face was plastered across the news for her amazing arrest.

~

Emma’s dad may not have been right about Robin but, sitting in the parking lot of a skeezy motel named the Camelot, she knows Regina is right about him now. She can’t imagine it’s a business meeting that’s being conducted at one in the morning, behind the door of one of the upper-level rooms.

Before she can get any substantial evidence, her car is swarmed in the parking lot by none other than Will’s gang.

“Car trouble miss?” he asks with a smirk.

“Might be a loose belt but if you wouldn’t mind checking under the hood,” she answers sweetly.

One of the guys walks up to her open window and her dog Wilby, affectionately nicknamed backup, jumps out. The guy lands flat on his back as the dog snarls at his throat. Another stomps up, yelling at her to call off her dog and she tazes him in the chest. Down he goes.

She calls Wilby off.

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll call it a draw,” she tells Will.

“Love, come on, it’s too late for that.”

“Here’s the deal,” Emma informs him, no bull shit face in place. “Leave that kid at school alone for a week and I’ll make sure your boys walk.”

“Why do you care for that kid so much, anyway? Things I heard about you… You must really lay the pipe right.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” she says cheerfully with a sarcastic nod of her head.

Mr. Electricity begins to lift himself up, using her door as leverage, and she charges her tazer in front of his face as a warning.

“Alright, one week. But if you don’t get them off, I’m coming for you, your boy, and your little dog too. And remember, if you get lonely out here, Will love you long time.” He kisses the air at her as he revs his engine.

Quite a reputation I’ve got, huh? You wanna know how I lost my virginity? So do I.

It happened at a party at Tamara’s, that much she knows. She’d curled her hair and put on one of her favorite dresses—white, knee length, and flowy. Her reason for going was simply to show everyone that the way they treated her didn’t affect her.

It was a mistake.

As she walked through the crowded room of people from whom the only attention she received was pointed whispers and giggles, people whom she once considered friends, she was handed a drink. She didn’t know who handed it to her but she chugged it down.

Before long she was stumbling around dizzily and then everything went blank. She woke the next morning, alone in bed, a soreness between her legs and her underwear on the floor. She walked through the house, crying silently, an entirely new type of pain tightening her chest.

She’d thought she’d felt all the pain a person could feel—being unceremoniously dumped by whom she thought was the love of her life, having her best friend murdered, all of her old friends turning against her, and her mother leaving her and her father. But there was at least one thing left the world had to throw at her, one more thing to show her that life truly was a bitch and things would never be the same.

In the present, Robin Hood steps out of the motel room door and Emma snaps as many pictures as she can before he shuts it behind him.

She doesn’t actually get a shot of the woman’s face but she gets some pretty good images of him talking through the door way and the license plates of each car in the lot. That should be enough to get her started.

~

The next day at school, she sits at her usual table. The kid she’d saved is already there.

“You should hear the things people say about you,” he begins.

“You didn’t have to sit at my table,” she grumbles. Who is this kid? She saves his ass and he chooses to sit at her table for what? To make fun of her?

“And what a fine table this is. What do you suppose it’s made of?” he ponders, tapping his closed fist against the shiny top. “Oak?”

“Look, if people are saying such awful things…” she trails off, shaking her head.

“Well, I figure I’ve got a choice. I could either go hang out with the jerks who laughed at me, took pictures of me while I was taped to that flagpole. Or I could hang out with the chick who cut me down.”

It feels good, his kindness, and a warmth blooms in her chest at the thought of a possible new friend.

“So you wanna get the bike club off your ass?”

“Can we come up with a code name?” he asks, eyes wide with hope.

“Sure, kid.”

She laughs at school for the first time she can remember since Milah’s death.

~

Her dad returns that night and as he prepares steak on the grill, Emma tells him she got pictures of Hood at the Camelot. He reprimands her for disobeying him but then asks to see the photos. He looks through the stack of images and pauses on one of the license plates of a car.

“I want you to stay away from Robin. You hear me?” he commands firmly, in the serious father voice he so rarely uses.

“But dad, why?”

“Listen to what I said, Emma. Stay away from him. I’m telling Regina I’m dropping the case.”

He storms into the apartment, leaving the grill unmanned.

~

When Grumpy conducts his next “spontaneous” locker search at school, he makes a stop at Killian Jones’. Killian opens the door, expecting to be in the clear, only to showcase a lovely bong in the shape of a naked man, one hand on his hip, the other grasping the bowl placed where it’s penis should be.

“What’s this, Killian? This appears to be a device used to smoke marijuana.”

Killian looks around the hallways, flooding with people now that the class bell has run and as he’s lead away, his confused eyes land on Emma standing beside Henry.

“I know it was you!” he shouts, angrily, jamming his finger in her face. “This isn’t over, ok?”

She fake yawns at him, patting her hand over her mouth. Henry grins at her side.

“You’re so cute and innocent. I’ll get you for this,” he threatens as he’s pulled away by Grumpy and the deputy.

Jefferson, the residential stoner, passes by and offers her a high five. She’d recruited him in art class the day before to make the bong for her.

Phase two of operation freedom was done.

After school, she drove home to the sheriff’s department. Phase three. With a remote control detonator, he sets off a spark in the bowl of the phallic bong residing in the evidence lock up. The smoke from that sets off the fire alarm and the woman behind the counter calls the fire department.

Then, after the flaming crisis is handled, she heads to the fire department.

“Did you make the switch?” she asks the fire chief who then hands her a large envelope with a video tape inside.

A lot of people in this town still love dad. That comes in handy.

~

The residual love of her father only gets her so far though and sometimes she is left to her own devices.

Using a phony accent she makes a phone call pretending to be the secretary of the sheriff’s department, claiming to be having trouble with the computer’s system. She asks the man on the phone to run a set of plates involved in a hit and run for her. Except there was no hit and run and the plate number she if reading off is from the car parked at the Camelot the night she watched Robin.

“I’ll be damned, that’s some family,” the man on the other line says, chuckling.

“What is it?”

“That car is registered to one Kathryn Swan.”

She hangs up the phone in shock just as her father opens his office door.

“Explain to me again why we’re dropping the Hood case.”

She’s going to give him one more chance to explain himself, to tell her the truth, to tell her why her mother’s car was parked outside the Camelot the night Robin Hood visited it. But he doesn’t take it. Instead, he sips his coffee and gives her some bullshit excuse about corporate espionage, telling her it’s dangerous and they don’t get paid enough.

He asks if she wants to rent a movie and she walks out, leaving him alone in the office.

She heads to the court house and asks the receptionist which direction the bikers case is.

“Emma! I haven’t seen you since…” the woman trail off uncomfortably.

The last time I was here? Come on. That’s easy.

The last time she was there was the morning after Tamara’s party. She’d limped up to the counter, eyes smudged with mascara, and said she needed to report a crime.

After she sat in front of Zelena and reported what happened, Zelena chuckled in her face and asked “Is there anyone in particular you’d like me to arrest? Or should I just round up the sons of the most important families in town.”

Emma sat silently, shocked and dismayed. She knew Zelena was mean but this was downright wicked.

“I’ve got not a shred of evidence to work with here. But that doesn’t matter to your family now does it?” The woman continued on ignoring the tears streaking down Emma’s face. Ignoring her disheveled appearance, her wild hair, her red eyes, her torn dress. Ignoring the pulsing pain Emma could feel through out her entire body, not a pain physical in its origin but manifesting itself as such and causing her anguish never the less. “Look at this, she cries. I’ll tell you what Emma Swan. Why don’t you go see the wizard, ask for a little backbone.“ 

Emma left Zelena’s office with no answers to what had happened to her and no hope of ever finding out.

Now she sits in a courtroom, watching a smug Miss Mills deliver her testimony of her account of the night she arrested the two bikers at Henry’s place of work.

“Your honor, can we show the tape?” the opposing lawyer requests.

When the tape is loaded, no robbery is to be seen. Instead, an officer walks a prostitute to his car and is seen opening the door for her, getting in on his own side, and then guiding her head down to his lap.

Phase one of operation freedom had been staking out the strip club and recording the footage of their interesting ways of keeping a valid liquor license.

“Sheriff Mills is this how you run your department?” the judge questions.

Emma finger guns at Zelena and walks out of the court room.

She meets Henry at the beach and presents him with the actual footage of the robbing. He thanks her and tells her that “Underneath that angry young woman shell there’s a slightly less angry young woman just dying to bake me something. You’re a marshmallow, Emma Swan.”

She grins and turns her head away, amused but unwilling to admit it.

They spend some time flying around his remote controlled airplane. Just as she’s getting the hang of it and actually having some fun, Henry interrupts her.

“Emma, look at your car.”

She turns to see Killian lounging across the hood, crowbar in hand, surrounded by his 09er buddies (the richest of the rich, those residing in the the prestigious 90909 zipcode.)

“Do you know what your little joke cost me?” he asks, hopping off the car and swinging the crowbar.

“Well, I’m pretty sure you won’t be getting your bong back.”

He smashes a headlight. “Wrong answer.” He twirls the metal in his hand. “Would you care to guess again?”

She crosses her arms across the chest of her red leather jacket, keeping her face impassive, unwilling to let him phase her no matter what.

“Clearly, your sense of humor.”

And he smashes another head light.

“Nope, the correct answer is my car. That’s right my daddy took the Jolly away. And you know what I won’t be having?” He questions, resting the bar behind his neck and stepping closer to her. He leans in her face and answers his own question with a smirk and raised brows. “Fun, fun, fun.”

She wants to smack his British accent right out of his mouth.

“Uh, Killian,” his friend warns as a heard of bikes pull up along side them.

It doesn’t take long for Will and his friends to flip the situation in her favor.

“What do we have here? Vandalism?” Will asks. “No, the only vandalism that happens in this town goes through me.”

Killian tells Will he doesn’t have a problem with him and Will tells him he’s wrong. With Will smashing in the hood of Killian’s friend’s car (with the crowbar he’d pulled out of Kilian’s hands) and his biker buddies tearing apart the inside, they’re easily convinced to “head for the hills.”

~

Emma sits in her car outside of her father’s office building, watching him move around through the window.

This morning, when I woke up, I had one person in the world I could count on. But if there’s one thing you learn in this business, the people you love let you down.

David leaves, driving away in his car and she heads into the building. Her dad thinks she doesn’t have the code to the safe but he’s wrong and until now she hasn’t had to use it. She types the code in and opens it to find a large file, stuffed with folders and papers. As she pulls the contents out she realizes it’s the Milah Hood murder file, some of the evidence less than a month old, including the photo of her mother’s car she took the Camelot.

If the confessed killer is already in jail, why hasn’t dad given up on the case?