#probably gonna go back and redo this flag

[xenobakery]

★        ⫘     voidemonic .

voy - deh - mon - ick : a gender related to feeling demonic and the void, or being a demon of the void, or feeling demonic and also like your gender is a void. part of the @felonsgenders 100 follower coining event.

[ ID will be added in the morning! ]

[ohtobeleah]

I’m not prepared to see how things transpire when Fe and Rooster go back to work. Especially if Jaidyn is gonna be there.

But you're gonna have to deal with it bestie. Because it’s gonna have to happen sooner or later. And we know shits gonna blow up. As always though here’s the Terms of Endearment Masterlist.

Warnings: Mentions of domestic violence.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

SunnySide daycare centre was a diamond in disguise. At first when you had been looking for a place to enrol Odette into when you realised you were going to be sticking around longer than intended it hadnt even fallen onto the short list of daycares you were reading into. It had been with Penny Benjamin's recommendation that you actually decided to go forward with the application process. A good friend of Penny’s had worked there ever since she could remember.  

“Tooster!” Dot giggled and squealed as Braldey held her up over his head, roaring like what he thought a dinosaur would sound like. Whatever sound left his ajar mouth was definitely not a dinosaur sound, but it made you laugh nevertheless. “Tooster! Dop! Dop!” Dot tried to plead with Rooster through her bout of giggles. 

“Hi Miss Y/L/N, just dropping Odette off are we?” One of the ladies at the reception desk asked as Bradley placed her down on the counter, letting her back lean against his shoulder as one of her purple backpack staples nearly cut his circulation off. 

“Yes please, and I also wanted to speak to someone about confirming the list of people permitted to drop off and pick up?” It was your first day back at work after the small Christmas and new year break you all got. The third of January saw SunnySide back up and running and in full swing again as most of its enrolled were military children. 

“Sure, not a problem at all Felix.” Bradley crooned his head your way to plant a gentle kiss against your temple, he could see the vein popping from a mile away. “Okay so i've got yourself listed as the primary caregiver and emergency contact, i've got a Jake Seresin listed too as a primary pick up and secondary emergency contact if we can't reach you and a Bradley Bradshaw was just recently added as a primary pick up and drop off and third emergency contact if yourself of Jake are not reachable.” The receptionist explained as she turned her head up from her computer screen to look at you. “Does that all sound good Fe?” 

“Yeah, all good.” You sighed out a breath of relief. “Um, I was also wondering if I could red flag someone?” Bradley knew it was hard for you to even ask, but you needed to make sure that Odette was going to be safe in the care of the child workers you trusted her to. He’d been the one to remind you that it was probably a good idea to get ahead of the game and expect Jaidyn to try something. “Dots dad has recently moved to town and I just want to make sure if he ever tries to collect her or comes to try and see her or something that someone will notify me?”

“Sure thing sugar, I just need a name and I can make sure that if that were to ever happen we’d notify you, but please remember unless someones been specifically nominated as a trusted adult, we wouldn't let just anyone claiming to be here for Dot pick her up Felix, She's safe here.” It was nice to be reassured. 

“Thankyou.” You smiled softly as you nuzzled your daughter, kissing her cheeks until she was smiling. Bradley had tried his best to do her hair this morning, you had to redo it but let him redeem his self esteem when he placed the purple bows against her pigtails. “Uh, his name is Jaidyn Dolan.” 

“Great, I'll make sure if he ever comes snooping around that you're informed immediately.” 

“Alright squirt, time to go.” Bradley roared again as he scooped Odette up, placing her down on the ground as he opened his arms wide for her to smoosh herself against him, encapsulating the almost three year old he’d give his life for. “You have a good day alright? and I want at least two new drawings, got some new picture frames to fill.” 

“You know you can't just keep using her for cheap artwork Bradshaw.” You were quick to laugh as you came to crouch beside him, Dot moving from his warm strong embrace to your loving, protective hug. “Love you Lieutenant Polkadot, see this afternoon baby.” 

“I'm gonna stockpile them so when she actually does grow up to become the next Picasso, i'll be making bank.” Rooster quipped as he stood with you, watching as one of the early childhood educators took Dot by the hand and walked her inside the daycare. “Come on Mamma, we better get to base.” 

You weren't going to lie, you were utterly terrified of what going back to work would bring. Nothing had changed really, but so much had also changed at the same time. Before the break, you and Bradley weren't exactly sure what the two of you were. Now? You’d gone ahead and made it official, Bradley Bradshaw was your boyfriend and you were his girlfriend.

God, you had a child, you were a fully grown woman and even just the idea of introducing Bradley as your boyfriend to anyone made you feel like a prepubescent adolescent. You asked if you could refer to him as your partner if anyone were to ask, Rooster said you could call him anything under the sun so long as he was yours and you were his. He didn't care that much for labels, he just wanted you and your daughter for the rest of his life. 

“If he comes near you Bradley I swear–” Holding the passenger side door of the Bronco open. 

“I can hold my own, don't you spend a second worrying about me Fe.” Penny had offered to lend you her car for a little bit while you looked on marketplace for anyone going for a good price. Jake was still waiting on his insurance claim to finish processing so he could cash in for a new Ford. You had politely accepted knowing Jake needed it more than you did. “Besides, I think the more important matter at hand here is making sure you remember to grab the keys to your new house before you leave this afternoon.” 

“True, true, still can't believe I actually got approved.”  As it turns out, one of the main reasons it had taken you so long to be approved for staff accommodation was that one of the admin workers knew of you and your beautiful daughter and wanted to find you something you could truly make a home. There was a new opening on the outskirts of the bass housing, a modest two story house with a garden and white picket fence. Three bedroom, two bathroom, two car garage. It had all the fixings and once you'd seen the letter and photos attached you couldn't contain your excitement. “I think Jakes almost a little too excited to see the back of me.” When you had told Jake that you'd been approved for your own place, he was beyond excited for you, told you that he was delighted to finally see that day, that he thought you were gonna be living rent free under his roof for eternity. 

Although he teased and pushed your buttons, never once did Jake insist eternity was a bad thing. He had sent Bradley a text soon after telling him to meet him at the hardware store that afternoon so they could split a pretty penny on a solid security system they could both remotely access. 

“He’s gonna remember just how quiet his home was before you showed up, trust me.” Bradley smirked as he started up the Bronco, strapping himself in and before he even thought about shifting into first gear–he made sure you were buckled in too. “You still wanna go look at furniture on the weekend?” 

“Absolutely, there's this lounge that is apparently stain proof at fantastic furniture I wanna have a look at.” You reached down for the catalogue you had thrown into your bag this morning, Bradley laughed when he quickly glanced over to see you had circled some items in red marker. “Wonder if I can get something that looks similar at the op shop.” 

“You dont wanna buy it new?” Bradley wasn't against second hand, he loved a good thrifted piece as much as the next guy. His favourite bomber jacket was actually found at an old overcrowded second hand store he went to once with a few buddies who were in search of some clothes of a themed Sunday Funday back in his TopGun days. But he thought if you were starting a fresh, new life, new house, new people around you who loved you for you, that you’d want some new furniture, owned just by you. No string or memories of any kind attached, owned by you and only you to create only the best of memories on and around. 

“Rooster, I don't think I’ve ever had a piece of furniture that's brand new.” You sighed. “I think the bunk bed I shared with my sisters was so old that every time something broke or snapped my brothers would just nail a piece of wood to the frame to keep it from falling apart on us in the middle of the night.” It was becoming abundantly clear that you and Bradley came from two very different backgrounds. “Roo—“ you reached over to place your hand on Roosters thigh. “My mum's bipolar, Frank? Well—he’s an alcoholic and an addict.” You explained with a solemn tone. “I did whatever I could to help raise my siblings and I wish to this day I could have done more than I did before they cut me out.” You never explained why you didn’t talk to your siblings anymore, Bradley had asked Jake one night over a few beers and the only explanation he gave was that you wanted a better life for yourself. “Everything I do, all the money I earn? Is so that Odette can have a better life, I wanna be able to give her everything because she’s a great little girl and she deserves a hell of a lot more than I’ve given her so far.” 

Rooster didn’t argue, he understood where you were coming from. Reaching up to grab the hand you’d placed on his thigh to bring it up to his lips, he pressed a gentle kiss to your palm. It made your heart do backflips the way Bradley didn't try and argue, didn't try and change your ways or your views. It made you feel loved for who you were–and there wasn't a single fibre of Bradley Bradsahw who wanted to change a single part of who you were. 

“So we make a day of it? I’ll rent a trailer and we can op shop the shit out of this house mamma.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~

The locker room was crowded with naval aviators returning to work after having been off for the last week or so. Bob Floyd was the first one to notice the new face amongst the sea of all too familiar faces he’d grown to know over the last year or so being stationed in North Island. 

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Jaidyn smeared as Bob found himself staring at the man he didn't know, turning his head sharply to anywhere else in the room but the man's line of sight when he’d been sprung. “Im just fucking with you man” Jaidyn smirked as he reached out to shake Bob’s hand. “Names Jaidyn, Zeus.” 

“For the love of god Bob don't touch him, I don't know where he’s been.” Jake hissed as he stepped in between the two aviators, puffing his chest and flaring his nostrils as he clenched his jaw. 

“Jake–” Jaidyn eyed off his former best friend like he’d seen someone come back from the dead. “It's good to see you bro, how's things? How's my missus?” Jaidyn was only beginning to test the waters to see how far he could push Jake Seresin in a public forum before he snapped. The locker room had never felt so silent before with so many people in it. “Heard she's been crashing at your place ever since she took off.” 

“Judging by the swelling under your right eye I trust Bradshaw already told you to stay clear away from her and we won't have any issues.” It was a nod to the bruised knuckles Rooster was still carrying the weight of after having busted his fist against Jaidyns face. “I wanna make one thing abundantly clear though–” Jake hissed through gritted teeth as he got up in Jaidyn’s face enough to have the slightly taller, brunette man stumble back a step or two. “You fucking go anywhere near her and I find out about it ill kill you, and thats a promise.” 

“What lies had she spun to you Seresin.” Jaidyn chuckled as Jake turned on his heels, heading back in the direction of his locker after having shook his head Bob's way, gesturing for the backseater not to go near him. “ I never took you for a bitch.” 

“Yeah well, I'd rather be known as a bitch than as the guy who beats up women.” Jake didn't even have to turn around to know Jaidyn had gone the darkest shade of red known to man. “Because I never took you as the kinda guy who would do that shit for fun.” There was something Jake's fellow aviators were missing in the confrontation going down in the locker room because in all the time they'd known Jake Seresin he had never once mentioned his former best friend or the girl he saw as a sister until you showed up at his front doorstep. “You damn near killed her and you know it.” It was what Jaidyn was smearing next that had Jake seeing red, that had him racing across the locker room at full speed, pushing past everyone and anyone who got in his way, just as you and Rooster were walking in hand in hand laughing at something stupidly corning he’d said just to make you smile. 

“Yeah well, it's damn near addicting when she makes such pretty noises.” 

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Bradley was off in an instant, leaving you at the threshold of the locker room as he raced over to break up the conflict unfolding. “ILL FUCKING KILL YOU YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” Jake had his hands on Jaidyn in three point five seconds, shoving his chest as hard as he could before he tried to throw a punch that would have knocked the slightly taller, brunette with the wicked and maniacal laugh out cold. 

“Jake!” Rooster stepped between the two men who were about to throw punches. “He's not worth it man, it's want he wants, don't give it to him.” On the way over, Rooster had passed the Admiral making his way over, it was only a matter of time.

“What the hell is going on?” Mickey asked as you stepped into the locker room looking all kinds of meek and to blame for the events transpiring. “Who the hell's this guy?” 

“Dots father–” Is all you said and suddenly all eyes are on you. The squad who had become like a family to you all looked at you as if you were suddenly so much shorter, so much more vulnerable and so much more broken than you really were. “Jaidyn is Odette's dad, he uh, he followed me here.” 

“Fe–” Phoenix was the first person to speak as you never took your eyes off Bradley as he tried his best to deescalate the situation. Throwing himself between Jake and Jaidyn like he didn't care for his own wellbeing, just those around him. 

“I'm fine Nix, really, I’ll uh–I'll be in the hangar if anyone needs me.” You held back tears as you faked a smile so painful it damn near pulled on all the strings in Phoenix's heart. “Fanboy please don't forget that the strap on your hemet still needs to be fixed before you go up today, come see me whenever you can, the new part I ordered came in over the break.” You thought maybe throwing yourself into your work would keep you sane enough to get through at least the first day back. But when you made eye contact with Jaidyn for a brief moment, the way he smiled at you like he knew he won made you want to throw up. 

“Neither of you two know what shes really like, shes got you fucking played boys.” Jaidyn scoffed as he broke himself away from Braldey and Jake who stood side by side, the rest of the team behind them looking over their respective shoulders. “We’re engaged, she loves me and it'll only be a matter of time before she comes crawling back, begging for forgiveness after she took our daughter and ran.” In retrospect, Rooster knew he he maybe shouldn’t have said it—but his words were escaping far too quickly for him to stop himself.

“You mean the same daughter who calls me daddy now while I tuck her into bed every night?” Bradley knew what his taunt would cost him, he was prepared to cop it too. Dot had never called him dad before and he surely never expected her to. But as Jaidyn swung a powerful right hook against Roosters cheek just as Admiral Beau and Pete Mitchell were stepping into the locker room to see what all the fuss had been about, it was worth it. 

“Lieutenant Dolan, my office now!” Admiral Beau shouted as he watched Rooster go down, Jake just barely caught his head before he cracked it on the side of the bench. There were a few seconds there where Bradley Bradshaw swore he could smell colours and hear shapes but it was so worth it as the taste of iron coated his taste buds. 

“Bradshaw you alright?’ Jake asked as he watched Bradley fight off unconsciousness, he could have sworn if this had been a cartoon he’d have stars flying around his head like in that one movie Dot was scared shitless of. Who Framed Roger Rabbit. He didn’t blame the two year old though, that ending kinda fucked him up too. “Rooster? You there.” 

“Oi be careful, he can actually throw a solid punch.” Bradley chuckled, showing Jake his blooded teeth as he sat up slowly. “Admiral Beau didn't seem too happy though, which is good.” 

“All you did was by yourself a little more time Rooster, I don't think this solves anything, if i'm being perfectly honest I think this might have made things worse.” Bob interrupted as he sat down next to Rooster on the ground with the locker room medical kit, assessing the damage. “Far out I don't know how your nose isn't broken.” 

“Where Fe?” It was his first question. “She didn't see, did she?” If there was only one thing Bradley Bradshaw was worried about it wasnt if his nose was broken or if he’d actually hit his head or not. It was if you’d seen him take a hit for a lie he told just to get Jaidyn to play his own game. You hadnt, you were half way back to your hanger by the time Rooster had hit the deck and Jaidyn was being escorted to the admirals office for disciplinary action. 

“Nah, she left before you turned yourself into a human punching bag.” Fanboy was the one who gave Rooster the answer he’d been hoping for. ”But hey, why do they call him Zeus for?” 

“Stands for Zero Effort Unless Supervised.” Jake replied as he stood with a groan, letting Bob take over as nurse's aid. “Im sure you’ll find out just how he got that callsign in the first place, hes a fucking terrible wingman.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Lifestyles——of the rich and the famous—.” You muttered along to yourself as you hung halfway into the engine bay of your latest victim. An old Tomcat that the admirals had asked you to bring back from the dead as a side job amongst all the services and everyday tasks you kept ahead of to make sure the Dagger Squad were as well oiled as they could be. “They’re always complaining—always complaining.” Good Charlotte’s The Young and the Hopeless album had been blasting through your speakers for about four or five songs now—filling the silence with the early two thousands music was enough to keep your mind on the task ahead instead of wandering off somewhere else. 

“Don’t change career paths Felix, you sound like a broken record.” Jake chuckled as he stood looking up at you from the ground below. You stood atop the ladder, looking down at Jake. “Can we talk for a minute?” 

“Only if you grab me a redbull from the mini?” You replied as you started making your way down. Being careful to take one ladder step at a time. Jake did as you asked and made his way over to where your mini fridge sat, filled with copious amounts of caffeinated beverages ranging from redbulls to massive cans of Bang energy. 

“Here.” Jake handed you your beverage of choice as he stole a five hour energy, he didn't need to ask, so he didn't. “So we found out who Zeus is gonna be flying with–” Jake wasn't even trying to beat around the bush as he took the five hour energy down the hatch. You had your mechanic suit undone and tied around your waist, leaving you exposed to your black stand issue T-shirt. 

“Don't say Bradley.” You groaned as you cracked open the can. Taking a sip as Jake looked at you as if he wished he wasn't about to say Roosters name. “Jake I swear–”

“Okay so I won't tell you Jaidyn is Roosters wingman now.” 

“Oh well you just did! Didnt you?” You sighed in defeat as you made your way over to the small lounges you’d thrifted for the workshop, more often than not the Daggers would spend their lunch breaks and down time in your hanger turned workshop. “God, that's not gonna go well.” 

“You’re telling me, Roosters already got a black eye and it's only day one.” Okay, Jake really had dropped the ball on that one. He knew you were going to find out sooner or later and he thought it was best if you found out sooner, but still, the way you looked at him like he’d just punched you in the face was not a good experience. “He’s fine, Bradshaw was just taking the piss and took a fist to the jaw, he's fine Y/n, lover boys still walkin and talkin.” Jake explained as he sat across from you in one of the old rocking chairs that needed new upholstery. “Thats not what I came here to talk to you about, fuck Rooster, hes fine.” 

“Jake–” 

“We wanna put some security cameras up in your new place.” 

“You wanna do what now?” Your eyes bugged out of your head a little as you choked on the carbonation of your red bull. “I feel like that's a little bit–”

“Necessary Y/n, it's necessary because I wanna keep you safe.” You didn't reply for a moment, you just sat across from Jake smirking as you mulled over your next statement. Sinking a little lower as you placed your legs up onto the coffee table that was covered in polaroid of you and respective members of the dagger squad– all slid underneath the glass slab. 

“You’re gonna miss me, admit it.” You chuckled, biting your bottom lip because you knew even if he wasn't going to admit it that you were right. Jake Seresin had gotten used to having you living in his spare room and he was in fact going to miss the chaos you so effortlessly brought back into his life. From the way you never replaced the toilet paper roll after a roll was finished to the way you would put a movie on full ball and still manage to fall asleep half way through. 

“Fuck off Fe.” Jake scoffed as he turned his head away from your eyeline. “I just think since you’re gonna be on your own a lot more often, if you had cameras, we could check in on you without physically having to check in on you.” 

“No common areas and I wanna know where every single fucking one is.” Pointing at Jake, you agreed to the cameras, understanding that it was probably a good idea even if you just had a few around the place. “And so help me god if you so much as stick your nose into my private life with bradley il–” 

“I don't wanna know what you and Bradshaw get up to behind closed doors.” Jake shivered at the thought. “I'm still scared from the display I walked in on at the dining table.” 

“Maybe nows not such a good time to tell you we fucked on your kitchen countertop too.” 

“You’re fucking gross you know that?”

“Eat me Seresin, I'm a grown up. I can do whatever and whoever the hell I want.” The two of you just sat there for a while listening to the same Good Charlotte album you would listen to when you were getting high together at the back of the yards. Jake's mum would kill him to this day if she knew her baby boy had been exposed to such a thing. 

“I don't care how old we get, you're still gonna be a little shit of a sister.” Jake broke the silence first as he leaned across, his elbows digging into his knees. “You’re a pain in the ass, but you're my pain in the ass and this shit you've got going on with Jaidyn is all of our problem alright?” Jake frowned as he watched you shrug like you didn't think you were worth the extra effort. “I think you should tell the rest of the guys how serious things really are so they can help too.” 

“I aint required reading Hangman.” You groaned as you let your head fall back against the chair. “But if we can drop the subject for now, i'll think about it, alright?” 

“Okay.” Was all Jake said as he pressed his lips together and nodded, standing as he came over the tussle with your hair. “I'll see you at home, don't forget to pick up your keys.” 

“Rooster already reminded me, but thanks.” You watched from the couch as Jake made his way out of the hangar. “Hey Jake?” You called out after him, watching as he paused in his tracks to turn his head back to where you sat. “I don't say it enough and I really should.” You cooed. “I love you.” Jake just smiled, he knew you did and he loved you back, so much. He’d known you his entire life and he still knew there was so much more to you than everyone saw. Perhaps Bradley would be the person to get to know you just a little better than Jake thought he did. 

“I love you too.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Talk out of your ass like that again and I'll be the one who smacks you upside the head you got it Bradshaw?” You growled as Bradley made his way over to you, dragging his feet along the bitchament from a long day. The side of his face knocked up and surely bruising. “Jake told me what you said.” Bradley had been avoiding coming past the hanger all day so you couldn't castrate him for being an idiot. 

“Hangman needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.” Dropping his bag, Bradley took you into an embrace he;d been wanting to give you all day, the smell of your shampoo always brought him solace. Kissing the top of your head a few times as he kept you close against his chest. Pressing your back into the side of the Bronco you had been waiting beside. “But I know, I know, I shouldn't have said it.” 

“You can't be doing that shit, he's dangerous and I don't wanna lose you.”

“Oh trust me mamma it’ll take alot more than a single right hook to take me down.” You loved the term of endearment Rooster had chosen for you. Mamma. It made you ache for his touch. 

“Really? Cause from the eye witness account Fanboy told me about when he came to pick up his helmet, apparently you hitting the deck like a sack of shit.” You taunted Rooster as he saw Jaidyn making his way over to his own car out of the corner of his eyes. Far too close to you than he was comfortable with. 

“Love makes a man do crazy things.” Rooster was serious when he tilted your chin to look at him. Holding your chin between his thumb and index. “I love you Y/n, and you don't have to say it back, but I do love you–so much baby.” So caught up in the way Bradley was looking at you like you hung all the stars in the night sky just for him and him alone, you hadnt even noticed Jaidyn near his car, parted only one space across from Roosters Bronco. 

“I love you too.” It was one of the first times you'd ever said that with genuine intent. You told Jake you loved him, but this was a different kind of love then the one you had for Jake. Jakes was unconditional sibling love. The love you felt for Bradley bradshaw you'd never experienced before. You really did love Bradley, so much it hurt. “Now how about we go check out my new crib huh? Ten bridge street is officially all mine.” 

“Ten Bridge street huh?” Jaidyn eaves dropped as he slammed his car room after having thrown his duffel into the back seat, leaning on the side of his car with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“I'm nine Bridge street honey, looks like we’re neighbours.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

Tags: @a-serene-place-to-be @lilyevanswhore @thescarletknight2014 @blindedbythelightt t @averyhotchner @emma8895eb @blairfox04 @caitsymichelle13 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @teacupsandtopgun @aemondssiut @feltonswifesworld87 @akalei349 @notjustsomeblonde @americaarse

[agressive-reject]

Journey back home, my real home.

Cw: violence, cursing, gun mention

The journey north was a lot harder than Aster thought it would be without a car. She would never know why she originally thought the nearly 600-mile trip from her mother's mansion in Maddison North Carolina to Long Island Sound would be easy.

She had thought about stealing a car, she knew how, but she didn't want to deal with being caught. Aster had some money for food and a bus ticket but not much.

Aster signed in the isle of a random gas station in Kentucky as she looked at her credit card in her wallet.

yep, that's not gonna work. She thought. She's probably already cut them off by now.

She glanced over at the two teenage girls giggling in the corner. They wore cheerleading outfits and had full faces of make up. They kept looking at Aster and laughing.

They're just teenage girls, no use in engaging.

Aster couldn't tell exactly what they were laughing about. Maybe it was her torn and muddy jeans or her twists that had grown out since she had them done. Aster had already promised herself that she would ask one of the Aphrodite kids to help her redo her hair when she eventually got to camp.

Aster pulled her hood up over her head and walked over to the counter with her granola bars and water.

"Just these please," Aster said to the middle-aged man behind the counter. She wanted to get away from the South as soon as possible. She didn't quite feel comfortable with the confederate flag behind the cashier next to a wall of every type of cigarette there was.

"$10.79," the guy said in a very tired-sounding voice.

Aster handed him $11 cash and put the change in the little jar that said "TIPS." She quickly said thank you and walked out of the store.

About 10 minutes into her walk to the bus station, Aster noticed the cheerleaders had been following her.

Aster felt inside her jacket to make sure her revolver was still there. Most demigods she knew used swords, bows, and daggers. Aster used a gun. She is-was the heir to the fortune of the Remington Arms fortune after all, she had always been around guns. Last year she had Leo make her some Celestial Bronze bullets for her. Those were what her gun was loaded with right now.

Aster knew that the Celestial Bronze bullets wouldn't hurt the mortal cheerleaders, but just showing someone that you were carrying was normally enough to scare them off.

Aster kept walking, pulling the strap of her bag up more on her shoulder, her other hand resting on her gun.

She had finally made it to the bus station and bought a ticket for the next bus that was going to Long Island. She sat in the far back of the bus and was surprised to see the cheerleaders also boarding the bus.

That's strange but probably nothing Aster thought, anxiously as the bus started to leave the station.

She couldn't see. There were so many different sounds of death and destruction all around her. Aster tried to open her eyes, but only one worked.

She was back. Lying, bleeding on 5th Avenue. Bested by a horrific beast. The searing pain from the Drakon's talons was worse than anything she had ever felt. Aster was almost certain that she would never be able to see out of her left eye again.

She tried to stand but fell. Aster braced for the impact of the asphalt, but it never came.

"It's ok! It's going to be ok! I got you!" said a voice whom Aster assumed belonged to the muscular pair of arms holding her up. She recognized the voice but was far too dazed to place it.

Aster awoke abruptly as the bus stopped. She hadn't even noticed that she had fallen asleep, just thought that her dream was another flashback to The Battle of Manhattan.

She ran her fingers over the long jagged scar across her left eye. It stung a bit, but that's nothing new. It always started to burn a little when she thought about the Drakon. Dawn once told Aster that "magic wounds leave magic scars" and they weren't joking. It started to itch even when Manhattan was only mentioned in passing.

When Aster got off the bus she noticed how dark it had gotten.

Man, how long was I asleep?? Aster thought while yawning.

She didn't have much money left for a taxi or Uber, so Aster walked from the bus station to Half-Blood Hill. It was about an hour's walk. As always, Aster kept a hand on her revolver and constantly checked her surroundings. But she soon got lost in thought while she walked. Her beat-up old Converse kicked rocks and pinecones when they crossed into her path.

Aster's head shot up when she heard a stick break. She pulled her gun as she whirled around.

"Freeze!" She yelled, expecting a threat.

She lowered her weapon. The squirrel scampered away into the night.

Aster let out a sigh, "Oh Gods that scared the shit out of me!"

Out of curiosity, Aster checked to see how many bullets she had left. She had gotten into a few fights since the previous summer and the bullets Leo made for her were almost gone.

"Fuck" Aster said while looking down at the two bronze bullets in the cylinder.

Another stick snapped. It was not a squirrel.

Aster tried to turn around but was kicked in the back. She fell to her knees and looked up.

"Awww! I really wanted you to put up more of a fight!" Said one of the two cheerleaders now standing in front of her.

"I know right! It's no fun when they go down in one hit!" The other girl said while making an over-exaggerated pouty face.

"What do you want? I'm just trying to take a nice leisurely stroll!" Aster said as she got to her feet.

Aster could see Thalia's Pine tree behind the cheerleaders. Running would make her a coward, there were only 2 of them. But then again, she only had 2 bullets.

"Ugh! What? You don't recognize us?! Typical Ares kid! You don't even remember who you've killed!" She said as her long ponytail turned into flames.

Their bodies contorted as the Mist cleared. They grew fangs and long claws. Their legs changed. One metal. One of a donkey. Their eyes glowed red with hate.

Aster did remember. During the battle of Manhattan, she was attacked by these 2.

Aster pointed her gun at them, "You came all this way from Tarturus just for me to kill you again? Wow, that's kinda sad."

Before they could react Aster shot one of them, right between the eyes. She evaporated into dust.

One bullet left.

"Would you like to go back to Tarturus too?" She said pointing her revolver at the second Empusa.

Aster was tired, she knew that the second Empusa would go down as easily as her counterpart. Luckily, she had been itching for a fight since her mom kicked her out. She pushed her fatigue aside and took her anger out on the Empusa.

Much to her surprise, the cheerleader ran towards Thalia's tree before Aster could even land a hit on her.

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING? I THOUGHT YOU WANTED A FIGHT?" Aster yelled as she ran after her.

The Empusa stopped and turned around to face Aster.

Aster fired at her but was hit in the chest at the same time.

She missed.

Out of bullets. Fuck.

She put her gun back into her jacket and swung. The cheerleader was fast. Too fast. Aster had underestimated how tired she was.

She screamed as she felt claws slash at her torso. She tried to fight back but the pain was too great.

This is it. She thought. I'm going to die on Half-Blood Hill.

She fell. In an instant the Empusa had her pinned.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this," The Empusa said, baring her fangs.

Aster thought a silent prayer to any God who was listening and prepared for the final blow. But it never came.

At first, she thought she was hallucinating from blood loss, but the creature above her dissolved into dust shortly after a tiny streak of silver shot through the air.

All she could hear was the crunching of twigs. All she could see were the stars above her in the night sky.

Then she felt it. A very familiar pair of strong arms around her. Someone was carrying her.

A very familiar voice said, "It's ok! It's going to be ok! I got you!"

She closed her eyes and passed out.

@sweetxloverxx @likeapriceless-wine @dionysus-god-of-all-things-wine @that-theaterkid

[thesealfriend]

Disabled Craft Project Of The Day: Custom Pill Organiser

Turns out I am incapable of taking my meds regularly without using a pill organiser, and will still struggle with one that doesn't perfectly fit my autism brain re: how they Should Be Laid Out. I also keep finding ones that are Just About Right but because they have removable inner sections for ease of transport, I keep losing the middle bits! So I built my own :)

Main requirements:

These are my personal preferences, but might give you ideas to think about:

7x3 layout - I can get away with 7x4s but the usually-empty 4th slot annoys me, and these are usually the ones with the removable bits that I keep losing </3

All completely fixed/attached - see aforementioned loss of removable bits!!!

Starts on a Monday - this is again a ridiculous Autism Brain thing but I was raised on a Mon-Sun week and that's the schedule my innermost workings abide by.

The Process:

1) Acquire 3 cheap 7-day organisers from your local budget chemist/drugstore/general bargain bin place (I got these from Savers) - they just happened to have them in these three colours so trans flag vibes it is!

2) Back onto cardboard, having the boxes cross the grain rather than go along it so there's mild flex but the cardboard won't bend easily

3) Redo the labelling to suit your preferred combination of start day, time signifiers & orientation - I used nail varnish remover to get the old stuff off and Posca pens for my new system

4) Optionally, wrap the sides/back in something more sturdy & aesthetically pleasing to cover up the cardboard - I'm gonna do this eventually (probably washi tape then a layer of varnish) but for now I'm on to

5) Fill with pharmaceuticals and enjoy having gotten one over on the neurodivergent brain demons once again (and having accidentally colour-coded the first two columns quite well, be mildly furious that the last one doesn't match at all)

[nayfem]

who was the first character out of the runaways you created ? ^^

and who’s your favourite story wise? :) (no spoilers though‼️🙏)

sorry for taking months to answer this, i really wanted to wait until i could do a DEEEEP dive for some files (this is a long post)

to answer your second question: my favorite character story wise is probably Cliff and Grace ?! its a cheat answer cuz i just answers 2 characters but idk i love writing them, their dynamic is so fun and cute, im so excited to post abt their new designs and story teehee

to answer your first question:

these three from around may of 2022!!! theres a fourth, but i cant find the drawing for the life of me. from left to right:

Eurus

Notus

Zephyrus

(Boreas was the forth.)

you might be asking "Hey who the fuck are these people" and that is a valid question because i dont draw them ever!!

the idea for Runaways started with these guys- first as a story about these gods and their family dynamic, but it quickly evolved into a whole world (MCU style) about superheroes.

i wanted to make one comic and then expand- starting with these gods. but as soon as i made the next character in the story... i knew what i had done (brain rot)

although that answers your question, i have more to say (unfortunately)

the comic was going to end with Eurus turning into a villain- a misunderstood villain but a villain nonetheless. she was going to form a found family group and thats when i created a familiar face...

Grace Xu.

actually, Grace came about when i thought of the name Grave Force. i thought Grace suited the name, and she was going to have basically the same powers as Anna today (her skin would put you into a coma.)

but, then i started crafting another character...

Casper Wright! an invisible thief that would steal supplies for the group.

after that, it snowballed into a whole cast of characters, and eventually the wind gods fading into the background and i havent really touched them since.

heres the first ever drawing i did of Anna, when i started figuring out that she was gonna be Grave Force, and not Grace. i quickly figured out i wanted Grace to act as a main character, and started working on the other crew!

Cliff Phoenix when he was still called "Clint"

he was the muscle of the group, with his signature flame thrower. he was kind of a himbo back then, i still see him as a himbo but at least now hes not dumb.

back then, the gadgets the group had were made by Casper, or at least thats what i planned on. i much prefer Cliff being the gadget maker of the group!

this was my first ever draft of everyone together; a quick sketch of their heads and pride flags!

from left to right:

Grace Xu

Casper Wright

Cliff Phoenix (i need to bring back his gray streak </3)

Val Romero

Anna Xu (yes she was a ginger.. and white (Grace was her half sister at this time))

Val was a really interesting character and what i thought would start the comic!! the idea was have the group go to a really fancy party looking for a "kid" in danger.

her name would have either been Psyche! (like haha gotcha) or Mirage. their power was to create a hallucination of sorts- she could make herself appear to be the persons type (either romantically or someone they took pity on) and then rob them lol. thats why the group thought it was a kid- someone saw a child enter a shady car and speed off to a upper class party.

i still wish i couldve found a way to put her in the story. honestly, ive been redoing the Runaways story and designs, and when i work on the villains i'll definitely find a spot for them!!!

thank you for the ask my dear friend, you have increased my brain rot <;3 /pos

[bruhlsbees]

garden of eden ; 1/5 || alex kerner x fem!reader

summary: on the day of east germany's 40th birthday, your entire life shifts before your eyes

pairing: alex kerner x fem!reader

warnings: drinking (alex and reader), protest violence, hospitals

word count: 6,714

a/n: here's the first chapter of garden of eden! i hope you enjoy and if you are interested in being added to the taglist please let me know! :)

taglist: @spookyanabarnes

October 7, 1989

Alex had stopped by your apartment after he woke up and got around for the day. He was annoyed just as much as you were about the parade of soldiers that galavanted around the city. It was East Germany’s 40th birthday and many of those who worked had the day off to celebrate. Alex, being one of them, perhaps didn’t celebrate it in the way East Germany intended, but indeed still did in his own way with you.

It didn’t take him long to walk over to your apartment, as you only lived a couple blocks away. Jogging up the stairs, Alex stopped to catch his breath on the last step before heading down the hall to your door, knocking on it harder than usual - just in case you were still sleeping. He wasn’t surprised to see you still not ready for the day. Your hair still pulled back in a messy ponytail, the makeup from yesterday smudged on your face and you were still in your pajamas. You were a mess, but you were his mess.

“What are you doing?” You asked, eyes heavy as you were still trying to wake up, moving off to the side for him to walk in, shutting the door behind him. You leaned against the door, arms crossed over your chest as you watched him turn, looking at you with his hands in his pocket.

“Remember? East Germany’s 40th?” He chuckled at the sight of you rolling your eyes, waving him off as you headed into the kitchen to grab something to drink from the fridge. You listened as he followed behind you, leaning against the doorway - watching you pull two beers from the fridge, opening the caps before handing one to him.

Alex was the one to take the first drink, letting his head fall back as the beer went down his throat, waking him up in the process. Pulling the bottle from his lips, tilting his head back down, Alex let out a sigh, wiping his mouth before setting the bottle on the counter.

“You still wanna hang out? Mom is gonna be gone tonight, figured we could watch a movie or something. Might have to watch Paula, but you don’t mind, right?”

Of course you didn’t mind watching Paula with him. His niece was a bundle of joy to be around and you loved holding her close to you, listening to her cute baby babble while she pulled at your hair in her tiny hand. You had known Alex for the better part of six years now and were stuck at each other’s side like glue. Alex’s sister, Ariane, always liked to tease him on that. - asking him where his shadow was, referring to you.

His mother, however, wasn’t overly fond of you like Alex always liked to say she was. You knew that Christiane tolerated you, and that was it. You tended to speak more freely on your dislike for East Germany - stating that you felt like a prisoner trapped in a cage. Alex’s mother often bit her tongue at your ideas, as she was a strong supporter of the Socialist Unity Party.

Alex and Ariane, while they had similar views to you, Christiane didn’t seem to jump down their throats as much as she did with you. This left you uncomfortable the majority of the time you were in the same room as her. Alex though, you knew he was close to his family. After his father left, the three of them stuck together, all still living under the same roof.

When you and Alex finished school you offered for him to move in with you. You even said that you’d apply for the two bedroom apartment on the floor below if he really wanted to move in. It wasn’t that you wanted him away from his family, but as his friend, his best friend, you only wanted what was best for him.

But here you were, around three years later and things still hadn’t changed.

“Where’s your mom going?” You asked casually, taking a swig from your own bottle, opening the cupboard to find something to eat. You decided on some bananas that were spotting brown - picking one from the bunch and peeling it, stuffing the fruit in your mouth.

You listened as he explained that she had been invited to something, what exactly though slipped his mind. You nodded, pulling some of your banana apart to give him some, finishing the rest and tossing the peel into the waste bin.

“Well, I’ll be sure to be on my best behavior for Mother. Wouldn’t want to upset her on the 40th.” Your sarcastic comment didn’t sit well with Alex, who caught your arm tightly as you walked past him, pulling you around to look down at you.

“Hey, I get you don’t agree with her. I don’t either, but you don’t have to be rude.” He was always a mother’s boy. Ever since his father left them, he was at her side caring for her like she was his god. You always kept your mother shut on it, knowing that it was obviously something Alex didn’t realize - and if he did he didn’t care enough to change.

You quickly pulled your arm out of his grip, glaring at him for grabbing you the way he did. You wouldn’t deny that what you said was probably rude, but he had to realize that it wasn’t like she was doing it to be a bitch - his mother was always at her throat, was he seriously expecting her to just sit back and take it?

“I’m not arguing with you on this, but you gotta think about how it makes me feel sometimes, Alex. Your mother makes comments and you just sit there and let her. How do you think it makes me feel? Knowing my best friend’s mother doesn’t like me-”

“Where are you getting that she doesn’t like you at? She does like you, she just shows it in a different way. Look, I’m sorry for not standing up for you, you always seem to handle it on your own so well that it just feels pointless to jump in,” He took a deep breath and watched as you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, “How about this? Today if she starts something, I’ll tell her to back off, okay? I promise.”

You stared up at him for a moment, blinking slowly as you calmed yourself down. There were two things he said that really bothered you: you could handle yourself and pretended like he didn’t know why you thought his mother hated you. You could handle yourself, yes, but sometimes what you needed, wanted, was your best friend to have your back. Alex was also a horrible liar - of course he knew that his mother didn’t like you as much as she pretended. It didn’t take a genius to know that.

“Fine, fine. Whatever - can we just be done with this? I don’t want to be fighting over your mother right now. It’s too damn early.” You rubbed your eyes and felt him nudge you, looking up to see him smiling at you.

“I’ll wait for you out here. No rush.” Alex moved from the doorway and to the living room, settling in on your sofa before clicking on the television, mindlessly watching whatever station you left it on while he waited for you to get ready.

It didn’t take long for you to get around. You figured at most it took you twenty minutes, cleaning your face and redoing your hair, pulling on some jeans and a plain t-shirt, your sweatshirt thrown over. You grabbed your keys off your nightstand and headed back to the other room, grabbing some sneakers by the door and sitting down to slip them on.

By now the parade had made way to your side of the street, the music drowning out the television and your own thoughts. You watched as Alex clicked the television set off, standing up from the couch and stood above you, waiting until you finished tying your shoes before pulling you up. The two of you then headed out, you locking your apartment before joining him down the steps.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

After spending some time sitting outside, watching as East Germany decorated the city with flags in honor of the 40th birthday, you and Alex decided that you had had enough of the day and headed back to his apartment. You all but avoided his mother as you walked in behind him, taking off your shoes at the door and setting them beside his own. Following him into his bedroom, once the door was shut you rushed to his bed, turning and flopping down on your side, the one closest to the wall.

You shook your head in though, hands placed on your stomach as he came and laid down beside you, his head resting on the pillow that he tucked under him. Even with his eyes closed, he still knew that something was troubling you.

“What is it?” He mumbled out, cheek squished against the pillow, tired from the night previous and the disruptive morning he had. It was a long night at work and when he got home, he was hoping to sleep in and get some sleep that he had missed from the extra shifts he had picked up. To his dismay, what he got was a wake up call from East Germany.

Letting out a sigh, you rolled onto your right side, propping your head up on your hand while looking down at him. You smiled at how his eyebrows were furrowed together, his small mouth pursed, as if he was trying to sleep. He looked cute, almost innocent, if it weren’t for the disgusted look on his face.

You opened your mouth to speak, but closed your mouth, deciding against it. Alex already had to listen to his mother talk about politics every day, the last thing he wanted to do was talk about them with you - or rather hear how his mother was blinded by East Germany. Besides, you hadn’t realized just how tired he was until you got back to his class. Even if you did want to talk with him about it, there was a good chance he would have fallen asleep before you finished.

“Nothing, just forget it.” You dropped your arm down and let your head fall onto the pillow that Alex wasn’t using, closing your eyes as you laid beside him, arms crossed at your chest while your legs curled into a ball. It looked as though you were trying to keep your body warm, but really you just liked the position. Sometimes Alex would pull you in, wrapping himself around you as you napped. You never thought much of it, it being so normal for you both - but when Ariane started the teasing, that’s when things got awkward.

It was incredibly cliche - you knew that - crushing on your best guy friend that you’d known for a good part of your life. It’s not like you were planning on it, but one day it just happened. You stopped looking at him like he was just one of ‘the boys’ and saw him for something more. You enjoyed the little things about him that you hadn’t seen before - the way his favorite blue striped shirt seemed to fit him smaller as the years went on, how he doted on Paula when nobody was looking, or even the way he would sit on the couch, manspreading yet making it look so good.

Okay, so you were in love with him - but what could you do about it?

Your relationship with Alex balanced between the realm of dating and family, as weird as that sounded. You were there for him in the way that families were meant to be there for each other, but consoled him during his lowest points the way a partner would. Alex never made any advantages towards you in the way that would make you uncomfortable - he treated you the same way you treated him, ‘like one of the boys’. You had a strong hunch that he didn’t feel any sort of romantic feelings towards you, and while it broke your heart, you moved on.

It was selfish of you to think, but despite you doing your best to convince yourself that you moved on, ignore the feelings that you obviously had for Alex, you still had a hard grasp when it came to the idea of Alex seeing someone. Being with someone and growing a bond the way that you had with him. He was a young boy- man now, you were surprised that it had been this long even for him to still not have a girlfriend.

So when Ariane woke the two of you up from your unexpected nap, explaining that there was a girl there for Alex - your heart sank. You did your best to not showcase your evident disappointment, watching as he smoothed his hair down and got up, making his way to the door. He looked out of his room and leaned back in, looking down at his sister.

“Where’s my visitor?” He asked, confused at the lack of a girl standing outside his door.

You smiled then, when you realized what Ariane was doing. She was teasing him with the idea of there being a girl for him, a date, when really his date was with the precious baby Paula. You shook your head and fell back into the pillows, closing your eyes as you listened to them.

“Your visitor’s name is Paula. She’s your date, as agreed.” You heard Alex groan, taking the baby from Ariane as he tried to protest.

“Can’t your ex mind her?” He questioned, only to roll his eyes and kick the door shut behind him as Ariane explained that he was on call for the day.

When you felt the bed dip back down beside you, you opened your eyes and looked to your right to see Alex laying on his back, holding Paula close to him. She began to fuss and the sigh that escaped from Alex prompted you up, motioning for him to hand Paula to you.

“She doesn’t like the noise, I’d assume. I wouldn’t blame her, poor girl’s ears are far too sensitive.” You found yourself talking in a baby voice, bouncing Paula in your lap to calm her down while Alex got up himself, rubbing his eyes before moving the pillows to make a makeshift bed for Paula to sleep in, seeing as though he wouldn’t be getting anymore sleep that day.

“Here, lay her down. Maybe she can get some sleep.” You did as Alex asked and carefully laid Paula down, watching as she fidgeted for a moment, whining in discomfort before hitting a spot that seemed to satisfy her enough. You smiled and placed your hand against her tummy, cooing her to calm down before watching as she yawned, slowly falling asleep.

“You’re pretty good at that you know?” Smiling, you looked over at Alex and shrugged, “I gotta be. You can hardly hold her without her crying.” Alex rolled his eyes at your comment, scoffing as you stood up, nudging him before he got up in suit, leading the way out of his room and into the living room.

You weren’t surprised to see his mother in there, talking with a friend about the sizes of women’s clothing. You held back rolling your eyes, moving to sit on their sofa while Alex sat behind you at the table. You picked at the loose thread on your jeans, ignoring as Christiane and her friend continued to draft the letter they would send in with their wishes.

It took everything inside of you to not make a remark towards their letter, claiming that the idea would never get past the mailbox. There was no denying that Alex’s mother was intelligent - she was good at what she did, but you knew that if she just listened to what you had to say, what Alex and Ariane had to say, she could do more things that would help Germany.

Your thoughts were pulled out when you noticed Alex walk in front of you, turning the television set on before going back to his seat. Your attention, now fixed on the broadcast of the celebration of East Germany’s 40th birthday.

“Look at them, celebrating themselves, the old farts.” You smirked at Alex’s comment, looking down to shake your head as you tried to bite back your laugh. The mood turned sour quickly though, not that you were surprised, when Christiane told Alex that he didn’t have to watch.

Setting his coffee cup down, Alex pointed towards the television, looking at his mother, “Can’t you see what’s going on?” He questioned, eyebrows furrowed.

Pausing the current piece she was ironing, Christiane set her hands on the ironing board, looking at Alex, “What do you want to do?” She asked him suddenly, her tone sharp, “Emigrate? Nothing will ever change if everyone emigrates.”

You glanced over at Christiane, watching as she quickly returned back to drafting the letter. It was something you learned over time that she did. Whenever someone would make a rebuttal against something that went against her own personal views, she would move on from the situation before you could get the next word in, always letting her have the final word.

When you caught glances with Christiane, you found yourself not pulling from the gaze that the two of you locked on one another. It was like a silent conversation going on - both of you daring the other to say what they were thinking. Before you got the chance to speak, or her for that matter, you heard Paula begin to fuss from the other room.

“I got her.” You explained, motioning for Alex to stay where he was, heading back into his room. You heard Ariane thank you from the bathroom as she got ready while you made your way towards the bed, picking Paula up with a smile.

“Hi there sweet girl, is it too loud for you?” You hummed gently and held her close, resting her head under your chin as you rocked her in your arms. You listened as her crying faltered into a low whining, her tiny hands gripping at your shirt. Smiling weakly, you moved your head back to kiss the top of her head.

You were happy to hear the parade soldiers finally moving on from the side of town you and Alex lived on, moving to go towards another part of the city. The music fading until you were left standing in Alex’s bedroom in silence. When you figured it was safe to lay Paula back down, you carefully placed her back on his bed, making sure she was secured in the middle of the pillows before standing back up.

When you turned around, you were met by Alex who had just walked in his room, shutting the door behind him. You smiled and motioned towards Paula who was on his bed, finally asleep.

“She’s asleep this time, don’t think we have to worry about her waking up anytime soon,” You put your hands on your waist as he approached you, smiling down at you while you smiled back at him, “I should be compensated for my services - without me she’d never settle down.”

You both laughed, maybe a little too loud with the sleeping baby in the room, but Alex could only shake his head and move around you to look out his window, watching as the parade soldiers became smaller and smaller until disappearing from sight. Turning around, you moved your arms up and over your chest, crossing your arms as you watched him from your spot in the middle of his room.

“I hear there is going to be a protest tonight. You wanna go and check it out?” He asked, moving to the chair that was at his desk finally, looking up at you.

The older Alex got, the more he found himself wanting to be involved with protests and politics. Growing up with a mother who was heavily involved with Socialist Unity Party meant he was already surrounded by politics, but when he got older and formed his own views, it meant for him to be more vocal on it. You weren’t surprised when he asked if you wanted to see what it was all about, he often heard about protests going on and dragged you with them. You weren’t the protest type, however, so you were hesitant.

“I don’t know, I’m not sure if it’ll be a good ide-”

“It’s not going to get out of hand, if that’s what you’re worried about. We’ll walk with them, hold up our signs, chant, and come back home,” He leaned forward and extended his hands out to you, in which you took without question, “If it gets out of hand we will leave. I just want to see what it’s all about.”

You trusted Alex and his judgement, for the most part, so it didn’t take long for you to agree, smiling when he squeezed your hands before pulling away, leaning back in the chair. You shook your head and sat at the end of the bed, leaning against his wall.

“If it gets out of hand though, we’re gone. I don’t need to be the one explaining to your mother why you ended up in prison.”

You were caught off guard by Alex who leaned across the arm of his chair to kiss your cheek, blushing as you felt his warm breath against your ear.

“You worry too much, you know that?”

When you felt him return back to his seat, you looked down at your lap, a smirk on your face as you tried to not show your obvious enjoyment of the intimacy - knowing that for Alex it was nothing more than just a friendly kiss, but to you, it was more.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Everything happened so quickly. You didn’t have time to process what had even happened until it was too late. Alex was taken, Christiane had fallen - you were all alone in the middle of a peaceful protest gone wrong.

The protest was going smoothly for the most part. You kept close to Alex as the two of you walked among the other protestors, voicing that it was the people of East Germany’s right to be able to go on walks freely without the Wall getting in their way. You weren’t surprised with how underwhelming it was - it seemed that many protests were mostly filled with older couples sluggishly moving down the streets, or younger people like you and Alex who just followed what everyone else was doing.

Walking beside you, Alex was repeating the current chant ‘Freedom of the Press!’ while crunching down on the apple that he was given to by someone in the crowd. His brain wasn’t entirely focused on chewing fully - chanting with the others.

“Alex, you’re going to choke on that.” You warned, watching as he rolled his eyes, continuing on, “Am not.”

You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness, continuing on as you ignored the fear in the back of your head of him choking on his apple. No matter how often he liked to remind you that he was an adult and could handle himself - you always reminded him back that you were the older one and that men weren’t as smart as women.

So when he finally did choke on the apple, his words cutting short, you couldn’t say you were surprised. Coming to a stop beside him, you looked down and shook your head, bending him forward while he tried to cough up the apple.

“Come on, Alex! Spit it out!” You tried to hit his back hard enough for him to spit the bit of apple out, but even your heavy hand couldn’t get it out. You grew worried, thinking the worst as you looked around, hoping to find someone that could help. But nobody seemed to notice Alex as soldiers now stood ahead of the protest, linking arms to block them from going by.

It was a girl your age that finally approached, quickly hitting him on the back, bringing his posture up so he could cough up the apple - and thank heavens did it work.

Gasping when you finally saw the fruit shoot out from his mouth, you grabbed his arm and looked at him, “Alex! Are you okay?”

He seemed to be spaced out though, gasping for air as he looked at you, nodding once before at the girl who saved his life.

“Are you okay?” She asked, pausing in the middle of the protest to be sure. You watched as he smiled shyly at her, nodding and thanking her before she took off ahead to catch back up to where she originally had been at.

Before you could scold Alex, you watched him take off suddenly ahead of you, chasing after the girl that saved his life. With your mouth open, you raised your hands in frustration before fighting through the crowd to catch up with him.

“Alex! Wait!”

You desperately fought the people in front of you, forcing your body to squeeze through the crowd to find Alex. By now the police had shown and the sirens were echoing the streets, ringing in your ears as both the soldiers and cops yelled at the protestors to stop and go back. You knew that Alex wouldn’t stop - of course he wouldn’t, he would go head first into the fire to prove something. Damn him and his fucking ego.

While trying to force yourself past the crowd of people, you fumbled forward onto the hard gravel, hissing as your palms scraped against the road. You were lucky not to be trampled over and thankful when you felt someone grab you by your arms, pulling you up.

“Careful! You could’ve been run over!”

You turned around, gasping as you stumbled back, regaining your posture. You frowned at the man who was looking at you, a worried expression washed over his face. He couldn’t have been much older than you, in his late twenties at most.

“Are you okay? Your hands, they are-”

“I’m fine!” You didn’t mean to snap at him, but you were desperate to catch up to Alex before you lost him, or something worse happened, “Thanks, but I have to go. I have to find my friend.”

You ignored the disappointed look on the man’s face when you turned around, going back to pushing through the crowd, calling out for Alex before you finally broke through to the front, the trucks now barricading the protestors in, the cops trying to catch whoever attempted to run off while soldiers pulled people out.

It was a goddamn shit show. You flinched when you heard the first initial cry - your attention moved to an older woman who was pulled by a soldier, thrown to the ground before getting viciously kicked in her side. You needed to find Alex, and fast.

You did your best to ignore the tears that were welling up in your eyes, sniffling as you frantically began to look through the crowd, jumping up to look over the wave of people who were now scattering across the street. Alex was still nowhere in sight and the chaos that erupted around you suddenly only grew worse. You didn’t even realize that you yourself had been grabbed by one of the soldiers until you were being pulled off to the side.

“Let go of me! I didn’t do anything!” You found yourself shouting, hands flat against the soldier’s chest as you tried to push yourself away. His grip only tightened as he roughly pulled you with him, your heels desperately trying to dig into the gravel.

“Quit fighting! You’re coming with me! Not a chance I’m letting you go-”

He stumbled back when your spit slapped him in the face. When his grip loosened from your wrist you took the chance to break free, stumbling back as you watched him grow red, going for his baton that was at his side. Feeling your heart sink, you continued to stumble backwards until you found yourself toppling over someone, landing on your back as the soldier approached you both, the baton now in his hand and high in the air.

You were waiting to be beaten, knowing that it would eventually come, but to your surprise it didn’t. Your hands were above your head, cowering with the other person that was with you as the two of you prepared for the worst.

When you heard the sirens, the shouting of more soldiers approaching, you looked up and saw the crowd begin to flee, running back to where the protest walk started. Some soldiers chased after them, grabbing some that were too slow to pull them back and into the trucks that would take them to prison. Other soldiers just stayed back, assisting where they could.

“Come on, you’re coming with us!”

The soldier that originally grabbed you forcefully yanked you up by your collar, pushing you towards the truck with your hands now behind your head. Your tears were now freely falling down your cheeks, your heartbeat thumping in your ears as reality soon sinked in.

Alex was still nowhere in sight. You were being taken to prison for the protest.

Before you were escorted onto the back of the truck, you heard your name be called out. Turning, you noticed Alex who was fighting with the guards that were on him, trying his best to break free and rush to you. You did the same, flailing your body around and kicking at the soldier who continued to pull you at the truck.

You knew something was wrong when the world around you seemed to freeze, the painful ringing in your ears as your brain felt heavy. Alex’s attention pulled from your own, off to the side where his mouth fell open, the tears welling in his own eyes. Your own gaze followed his line of sight, looking at where he was looking to see his mother on the ground unconscious.

Everything felt slow passing by, yet it all happened so quickly. Alex tried to break free and run to his mother, calling out to her as he was grabbed by the guards again, kicked and punched at to slow him down before dragging him into the back of the truck, before the truck drove off.

You were pulled back into the present, everything around you suddenly becoming clear again and moving around you at a normal pace. Your body was slacked in shock as you watched the truck Alex was placed in drive off, before looking at his mother on the ground.

“Please,” You began, turning towards the soldier who had a grip on you, “My friend’s mother, she’s over there. I think something is wrong. Please, I need to help her, she could be in danger.”

You wanted to believe that there was still good in this world, that the soldiers of East Germany cared even a miniscule amount about the people. And perhaps they did, or it was your own luck that gave you the chance to go after her. You didn’t stick around to wait, feeling the soldier let go of your wrist before nodding for you to go.

You were by Christiane’s side in seconds, on your knees as you cradled her head in your hands, shaking her slightly, “Christiane! Christiane! Please, wake up!” Your head fell to her chest and you listened for a heartbeat and when you didn’t hear one you screamed out for help, pleading with anyone who listened for help.

It was an older guard who finally approached you, kneeling on the other side while he looked over Christiane. He checked her pulse and moved far too slow for your liking.

“She’s not breathing, damnit! She needs medical attention!” You found yourself screaming. The guard fell back on his knees, looking at you intensely before down at Christiane. He stood up and you figured he gave up on you before his whistle caught your attention. The lights from the ambulance illuminated off of your face, your hand going up to block the light, eyes squinting to see what was happening.

Christiane was pulled up onto a stretcher by the two medical responders in the truck, placed in the back before one of them stopped and looked down at you.

“Are you going with her?” He asked you, waiting for your response before he went back to the truck to leave. For a moment you didn’t process what he had asked you, still in shock with everything that happened. But when you finally came to again, you looked at him and nodded, standing up and climbing into the back of the truck.

It didn’t take long for Ariane to arrive at the hospital. You knew that Alex wouldn’t have been able to be reached and you hoped that Ariane would answer. She did, thankfully, and said she would be there after she dropped Paula off at her father’s. You sat with Ariane outside of her mother’s room, holding her in your arms as she sobbed into your chest, your own tears silently falling. You had been informed that Alex would be let go from prison, given his mother’s current state of health. The heart attack she suffered led her into a coma and there was no telling when, or if, she’d ever wake up.

Despite the doctor still standing in front of you, Ariane and yourself weeped together, comforting one another until Alex arrived. When the footsteps approached down the hall, the three of you turned, seeing Alex rushing down the hall. Ariane was the first up, meeting her brother into a hug while you stayed seated, chewing on your nails as you waited for Ariane to deliver the news to him. You tried to ignore the bruising on Alex’s face, but you couldn’t help but tear up even more at the beaten state of him.

“She had a heart attack.” Ariane choked out, finally able to answer Alex’s question on what was wrong with their mother. You closed your eyes and felt your head sink, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. Even with their differing political views, Alex and Ariane were still close with their mother. The idea of losing her was not something they dwelled on. Even you, someone who was not fond of the woman, was broken at the news.

“CPR was performed rather late,” The doctor began, approaching Alex and Ariane, “She’s in a coma.”

Alex seemed to be in a lost state of mind, desperately trying to process everything that the doctor was telling him. He tried to ignore Ariane’s weeping as he stared ahead at the doctor, “When can I talk to her?” Alex asked.

Your head snapped up at the question, looking at Alex sadly as you listened to his question. He was so innocent in the mind, not understanding what was wrong with his question and why you all looked at him the way you did. His cheeks went red and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Alex, Mama is in a coma!” Ariane explained, perhaps a bit too forceful for your liking, but you knew that in the moment it was something that maybe Alex needed. The doctor didn’t offer much reassurance either, as he explained that it was uncertain if Christiane would ever wake up.

Looking at the doctor, before his eyes glanced down at you, Alex pushed Ariane away before moving towards the room his mother was in, opening the door and shutting it behind him, wanting a moment to himself with her. The doctor, who didn’t have anything else to add, offered his condolences before leaving you and Ariane outside the room.

“Ariane...I-”

“What happened? Why did Mama have a heart attack?” Ariane demanded, glaring down at you. It felt like she was pointing the blame towards you, since you were the one who brought her in. You did your best to ignore the guilt that settled on you, shaking your head.

“Alex he- he wanted to go to the protest that was being held. It was going okay at first, but then the soldiers came. The cops came. We were going to be taken but when Alex was grabbed I- I don’t know, your mother must have seen and it was too much for her.”

You let your face fall into your hands, hunched over in your seat as your own sobs finally let out. Your body began to shake as you continued to cry, reality settling in with what happened and the fear of what was to come.

Ariane felt guilty herself, snapping at you the way she did. She knew that you would follow Alex wherever he went, even if it weren’t the best of places. She moved and sat down beside you, sniffling as she pulled you into her arms, letting your head rest in her lap, rubbing your back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.” She whispered, stroking your hair as your cries began to dull. “Thank you for bringing Mama here. If you hadn’t, I fear she may not be with us at all.”

You heard Ariane whimper, the thought of their mother dying that night frightening her. She continued to console you, giving you the comfort you gave her, until you finally calmed down. Ariane moved your head carefully up, looking at you while brushing your tears off your face.

“Alex, he...I’m worried to know how he is going to be. You two are close, you love each other - please, please just watch him for me. I don’t want him to spiral from this. I know he will blame himself for what happened, but it’s not his fault.”

You nodded at what Ariane told you, leaning your forehead against hers as she embraced you, pulling away moments later to stand up and gather her things.

“I’m going to go get Paula, head back home. I-I will come back in the morning. I don’t expect you to stay but...if you could stay with Alex until I come back, I would appreciate it. I just need to get some things around the house. I-”

You cut Ariane off with your hand on her, looking up at her as she stopped in her tracks. “Ariane, please, it’s okay. Go and do what you need to do, I’ll be here.”

The corners of her mouth twitched, nodding before turning and heading down the hall to leave, leaving you alone until Alex came back out. You wondered if he heard Ariane leave, because only moments later he was exiting the room, looking at you blankly.

Standing up, you frowned and opened your mouth to speak, but before you could get a word out, Alex was hugging you, sobbing into the crook of your neck. You held him, of course you did, your hold around him tight as you smoothed his hair down and gripped his jacket in your other arm. You ignored the damp feeling against your skin from his tears, doing your best to hum him into a state of semi-peace.

You managed to coax him to the chair that you and Ariane had been seated on together, letting him rest his head on your lap, his hands grabbing at your knee. You continued to run your fingers through his hair, your other hand resting at his side. He let out the occasional whimper, sniffling his tears away until sleep finally consumed him.

You, on the other hand, didn’t sleep that night. Your own thoughts buzzing with what happened and wanting to stay awake for Alex in case something happened with his mother. You were surprised that Alex fell asleep so easily, but you assumed that because of what he went through that night, he was more exhausted than you were. It didn’t matter though, you stayed with him, holding him close until the sun rose the next day.

[hqbbg]

mistakes.

pairing: tsukishima x reader

anon request: I'm craving for some angst rip. Can I request a tsukishima x reader Angst one shot based on the song "moral of the story" by ashe. The song hit really close to home when the song said " young people fall in with the wrong people sometimes. " and also one of the lyrics kinda reminded me if Tsuki-Y/N 's relationship was strained " fought the whole time should've seen the signs" 😭😭😭😭 Thank you love your writing btw

genre: angst

word count: 1.4K

warnings: toxic relationship

author’s note: ok let me start off by saying I'm SO SO SO SORRY that it took me literally centuries to respond to this!! pls forgive me, dear anon 🥺 not gonna lie, I think this was just a little hard for me to write because the song (although really good) hits really close to home but anyways, I still hope you enjoy it! 💖

“I think we should take a break.”

Time stops as you feel your heart drop to your stomach. Your hands are trembling, and you do your best to hide them from view in your lap under the table you’re sitting at in a café. You chose to do this in public with the purpose of wanting to avoid breaking down in front of him, knowing that the idea of strangers seeing you crying was embarrassing enough to keep you from doing so, but heavy tears still line your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks anytime now.

Tsukishima says nothing and you look at him to see him looking back at you with hardly any emotion on his face, a shell of the man you’d fallen in love with.

You’re not sure when exactly everything had gone wrong, or if things were even right from the start.

When you had met, you were kids. You had been playing on your neighborhood playground with some other kids and noticed a commotion nearby, turning your head to see a kid around your age getting pushed to the ground by a group of bullies. You wanted to go over and help but stopped when a tall blond boy walked past and seemed to resolve the issue himself. You wanted to become his friend, so that’s exactly what you did.

Even though you went to different schools, you spent as much time as you could with him, and he seemed to enjoy your company just as much. The two of you had spent a lot of time together, occasionally accompanied by Yamaguchi—the small kid who was getting bullied—and the three of you had become a unique trio. As a result, you had been there whenever Tsukishima babbled on about how great his older brother was and witnessed the moment the image of his perfect brother was shattered into a million pieces.

Tsukishima had changed after that, growing distant and untrusting of those around him, including you. As a result, the two of you had stopped talking until high school; you were determined to become his friend again, doing as much as you could without being annoying.

You remember trying to find little excuses to talk to him during your first year and he’d brush you off every time. By the time your second year had rolled around, he seemed to have gotten used to you again and you were able to be bolder in your actions, asking him to study with you whenever you could. To your surprise, he agreed, and you did your best to get to know him all over again. He was still distant, but you started to pick up on little things he did to show that he cared for you.

The first time he had done something like that was when you had mentioned in passing that you’d been unable to eat breakfast because you were waking up late after staying up studying all night long. You had arrived at your desk one morning at school and saw a carton of milk and some bread sitting there. You had wondered who it was at first until Yamaguchi had asked if you received it because Tsukishima didn’t leave a note or any indication that it was specifically for you.

You weren’t sure when exactly your platonic feelings towards Tsukishima had shifted into something more romantic; all you knew was that you began to feel a little shyer and more nervous around him. He was quick to pick up on this, being as observant as he is, but let you take your time to admit your feelings for him at the end of your second year.

You probably should’ve seen the red flags when he flippantly suggested the two of you to start dating without saying that he returned your feelings, but you blinded yourself with the hopes that things would be okay.

During your third year, things seemed to be going fine, but you didn’t have much experience to make reference to. You thought the fighting and arguing was normal. You thought the neglect and invalidation of your feelings was normal.

“Why are you being so sensitive about this?” Tsukishima had asked you once when you had told him that you felt like he was treating you like a chore rather than a human being.

“You haven’t been answering my texts and calls,” you remember frowning, unable to contain the hurt from showing on your face.

“I told you that I’ve been busy,” he had responded with annoyance.

“I’m not asking for much, Kei,” your frown deepened, a sigh escaping past your lips. “I just feel like I haven’t been able to see you much lately.”

“I’ve had a lot of things to do,” he replied. That wasn’t what you wanted to hear, and he probably knew that. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?”

A lot of your talks had gone like this: you’d bring up a concern, he’d fail to understand, you’d get upset, and he’d apologize for the sake of not wanting to deal with the situation worsening; it was almost like clockwork. Part of you felt bad, as if you were a burden, but there were still moments in between these that gave you hope that Tsukishima cared for you deep down.

You’d go on dates every so often, some ending better than others, but you’d enjoy your time with him, nonetheless. Maybe it was because of the pain you felt more often than not that you’d learned to appreciate the good moments more. Maybe that was the problem.

The two of you ended up choosing to go to the same college and you had hoped that the freedom of not being under your parents’ roof would give you more time to spend with your boyfriend. You had been wrong.

Tsukishima found other things to busy himself with and the few times throughout the week that you’d spend together always ended in some kind of argument. You had gotten used to waking up with puffy eyes from crying yourself to sleep at night and keeping your feelings to yourself because you always felt overdramatic for bringing your concerns forward.

It had gotten to the point where you hadn’t spoken to him in over a week. You stopped texting him, tired of seeing his read receipts with no reply. You stopped calling, annoyed by the automated voice telling you that he was unavailable. You stopped going out of your way for him when he had stopped a long time ago.

Looking back, it’s not like you didn’t see this coming; you just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

You’d made a mistake.

You’d fallen in love with the wrong person.

You’d spent so much of your life trying to pour yourself into someone who could never do the same and you were exhausted.

“Okay.”

Tsukishima’s simple response brings you back to your current reality. He looks unfazed and you know that he’s been expecting this too.

“I just have a question to ask,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. He raises an eyebrow at you, wordlessly telling you to go on. “Did you ever love me?”

Part of you shouldn’t be surprised when he doesn’t respond right away, but for some reason, your heart still hurts.

“I did.”

“When did you stop?”

You don’t want to know the answer, so you’re not sure why you ask.

“It’s not relevant.”

At least Tsukishima knows you well enough to know that the answer would break you no matter what.

“One last question,” you say, exhaling a shaky breath. “Did you regret ever dating me?”

The silence that follows feels deafening.

“No.”

You have a hard time believing him, though you try your best.

“That’s all I needed to know,” you say softly. You hadn’t even realized that the tears had begun falling until you felt them drip onto your hands.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” Tsukishima sighs heavily as he stands up. “I’m sorry.”

You can’t bring yourself to watch as he leaves you alone one last time. You don’t care that there are people around you as you bury your face in your hands and begin to cry as quietly as you can manage. You’re painfully reminded of both the good and bad memories and the aching in your chest only seems to increase.

Despite all this, if you had the chance to go back and redo anything, you probably wouldn’t. You made a mistake, but you were going to learn from this.

You had simply fallen in love with the wrong person.

[caffeinated-croissant]

The Strange Circumstance of Pride Ninjas

This is in response to @writersmonth ‘s pride prompts, specifically the one about unusual coming outs.

CW: drug use, implied (past) abuse, misgendering (these is both a reason and a fix)

Anyways, hope you enjoy

Percy did not expect to live past 16, that was a given in his life; from his awful ex-stepdad, to being a demigod, all the way to the great prophecy that vaguely implied his death when he reached sixteen. With those three cases it was rather easy to assume he’d probably be stabbed or eaten before he ever lived long enough to use his license. So it was fair to say Percy was gonna use the rest of his time alive to experiment and try to live. 

Annabeth and Rachel, his two best friends, wanted to help in whatever way they could. With Annabeth’s experience on the run and Rachel’s connections the three were gonna experiment a little.

= 

Percy started on a really wild ride but ended with an even wilder dream. 

He was at home with his mom when he was kidnapped by people later revealed to be the pride ninjas. Rachel, Annabeth, and another guy had also been kidnapped and taken to pride ninjas’ base. During the dream the ninjas found a way to “bring the pride forward” with some sort of concoction that made them, like, magnetized to the correct sexuality flag. Percy was drawn to the bisexual flag, Annabeth to the demi and lesbian flags, Rachel to the polysexual and asexual flags, and the other guy, Jason, to the pansexual flag. 

From there the ninjas took them to the next room where their gender identities were brought forward in the same way their sexuality was. In that room Rachel, Annabeth and Jason all identified with their genitalia pronouns. Percy on the other hand, identified with the nonbinary flag under the category of ve/ ver/ vis pronouns. 

From that point on in the dream, the four trained with the pride ninjas before being released. That was when Percy woke up. Somewhere in that time Percy had gotten the other guys instagram. And maybe it was just wishful thinking but Percy ended up searching it within the hour of him waking up. The real surprise was finding out it was real username, so Percy decided he might as well message him even if it was under really weird circumstances. 

Letting that thought go, Percy went on to think about the “realizations” he had made during the dream. Bisexuality checked out considering guys were also hot in his opinion. The change of pronouns was a bit different but also kinda made sense in the end, maybe he’d end up trying them out eventually but that was a worry for later. 

Rachel and Annabeth were starting to wake up from their naps. As it turns out, when they fully woke up they also had similar crazy dreams to share. The pride ninjas and the magnetic flags all seemed rather consistent in the dreams, so the three got to theorizing how much of it was accurate and how much was the one of the gods' influence. 

“Should I give Ve, Vis, and Ver some sort of 30 day trial?” Percy asked vis friends.

“It couldn’t hurt anything, considering everything else is so far on track.” Annabeth turned to face ver, kinda messing up the braid ve was valiantly trying to work on. 

“True, true. Do you think that Jason will answer my message, or be too weirded out?” With one hand holding her braid, ve shifted her head back into place so ve could continue. 

“Why? Did you find him hot?” Rachel said leaning forward from her place across from Annabeth and Percy. 

Annabeth also turned to look at Percy, who was slowly replacing his face with a Percy shaped tomato head. “I.. uh.. Maybe?”

“You totally did,” Annabeth shifted so she was looking at Percy head on, completely forgetting about the braid.

“My braid…” Percy was pouting now, opting to try and shift focus a little. 

“You can redo it later, right now we need to figure out the attack plan for your long distance crush.

Instead of facing the music that was Annabeth and Rachel, Percy opted to lay back on the floor and cover vis face with his hands. 

Rachel ended up taking pity on vis poor soul, and said, “Y’know, he might find this all really cool. Or who knows, maybe he’s also caught up in the same mythological world we are.” 

“Either way he actually has to respond.” Percy said from behind his hands. 

[common-blackbird]

Started!

This is my Inquisitor (so overjoyed you can be a qunari), her name is the default Herah and I decided I’m going to approach this game by staying true to a character and not looking to do everything and be on everyone’s good side u_u

I want to make a good background for her so i’m not telling anything. Yet. I’ll just say she’s a qunari mercenary and prefers using two-handed weapons.

Highlights from today:

Studying history does pay off! This was a reference to the famous book in environmental history - Guns, Germs and Steel by Jared Diamond. So proud i recognised it x)

Also i don’t have a good shot of solas but he cracks me up so much.. The guy has a posture of the typical retired grandpa (the only thing missing is to have him walk with his hands on his back). And there’s a scene where the party sees the rift and there’s the inquisitor facing it, cassandra bracing herself and solas... just standing like an old man

On a side note, Cassandra is so gorgeous and good and i already love her, i just keep taking shots of her TAT

As for varric, it’s so different than from da2, this is so much more “official” and you can see he’s the same as ever, but you’re not hawke, hawke’s not here, the gang’s not here and there’s nothing casual about the whole situation T-T

And lastly, my inquisitor has a horse now, i didn’t know that was possible in the game ;__;

played some more...

Let  me start with.... The advisors! (+ cassandra... or is she also an advisor too?)

What a bunch. I love Cassandra’s and Leliana’s faith having a crisis bc they believe that Inquisitor is the Herald of Andraste and the way they deal with it. It’s really interesting. Leliana is completely opposite than what she was in origins and i’m surprised it doesn’t bother me at all! I love seeing this whole darker side that was only hinted at in origins, though it’s also sad when i think how she used to be. I wonder how she’s gonna overcome her doubting of faith. 

Josephine is a delight. I keep using her for almost every war table mission for now. She radiates capability. She reminds me of those bureaucrats that are super nice and helpful and chill and even if you’re doing everything wrong she’ll just smile and say “it’s ok, we can fix it” and then goes and fixes everything herself (and you feel this insane amount of gratitude you send a whole separate email to thank her for her patience and help )

As for Cullen... It’s interesting... I got impression from what i saw in the fandom that he’s supposed to have had his allegiance changed and him rejecting the templars should have been him ultimately siding with the mages (or at least being anti-templar(?)), and that turning point that could have been a great way to show his character development during the game. Which i agree, only... i did not get that impression from the game so far at all. I mean, so far everything that i can remember him saying is totally smth he’d say in da2... He didn’t leave kirkwall bc of his disappointment with the templar order, he doesn’t seem to have any issues with the templars except those who go full war mode instead of trying to balance the situation. And it’s a really chaotic situtation, i love how they did it.

This line was amazing, i wish there was a special cutscene for that.

I’m loving the way they made this huge religious organisation in crisis have a complete collapse with the death of a key figure. I love the concept of inquisition and problems that it poses. I love you can see everyone’s reasoning and doubts reflect their background, but also see why inquisition can be understood as another power-grasping organisation trying to topple the templars, the mages and the chantry. Everything is divided. We got templars leaving the chantry, seekers leaving the chantry(?), rebel mages, loyal mages, rebel mages gone rouge, templars gone rouge, and suddenly there’s another organisation forming that you can totally believe is just another powerhungry force trying to get the piece of the cake by taking advantage of the power vacuum left by the sudden lack of the religious authority. (and only we know we’re The Good Guys). I love that we have characters who need to believe in the greater plan, characters who question the greater plan, and characters who want to utilise the power of belief and characters who don’t care for divine plans. The chaos is real and it feels real. I love that the centre figure of the whole holy business is a heretic of another culture. For the chantry this is the lose-lose situation (unless the inquisitor becomes religious by the end of the game). Which is why this line works so well. 

Ok, now shorter updates:

Red Jenny! I know it’s not her actual name but it is in my head. Where’s that box i delivered ages ago >_> Anyways, she makes my brain work on 150% capacity. I can understand what she means only after i go over it for 5 times.

Forgive me but oh my god, i can’t believe that i can recognise one voice actor and now i have another mental image whenever he speaks. Like, he’s really good at bringing out a new character, but when he gets more casual he sounds like kanan jarrus from star wars rebels and i’m just “what are you doing here, space dad” ;__; Hopefully it’ll get old and i’ll be enjoying more iron bull. he seems nice...

Vivienne on the other hand is like a reverse Josephine(?) She seems insanely capable but hates customer service, however somehow she likes you very much and will do everything you need for reasons you can’t fathom. Have a screenshot. So classy. I already feel humbled.

and lastly, BREAKING NEWS: aveline finally hired carver ;__;

Tbh Kirkwall is still a mystery and i have so many questions but i don’t think i’ll get any answers... If a powervacuum of the divine cause this much chaos, how’s kirkwall faring without a new viscount? Like, yeah, aveline can keep in check, but umm it’s in a very vulnerable state which makes it a good target for any invasion... didn’t sebastian promise bloodshed?

That’s all for now, bc otherwise i’ll start writing an essay on cassandra.

We befriended a bear in the hinterlands!

lets start with this cool shot

so, i have been to the mages and to the templars and... i sided with the templars.... First i was all for mages since they offered negotiations while the seeker just walked away, but then it turned out that was a trap, there’s also tevinter mages there (which is a red flag for my inquisitor) and then there’s some time magic involved (which is a big no for me), and i just walked out. Felt bad for the mages but my inquisitor comes from a culture where mages have their tongues cut so...

Also this guy deserves a medal for putting up with corrupted superiors and annoying nobles.

And i met cole ;__; Where are Rhys and Evangeline ;___;

the templar mission was ok i guess... I was surprised that red lyrium was apparently circulating around for some time, not sure if that means since meredith or even before. I love the stories of corruption tho and to imagine what it’s like to be trapped in this organisation that just keeps breaking everything it stands for

As for the important mages, i’ve Dorian twice since i bailed out on him in Redcliffe :I I love the guy, he seems arrogant yet so kind (like, no one would have carried that annoying priest and yet he did, after he ran from his own people to warn us after i ditched him in Redcliffe? man ;A;) Every time i go with “ok the inquisitor fears tevinter and distrusts this rando who just popped in” i am marinating in guilt.

and then we fight some mages and die several times but we succeed and we meet the bad guy...

Is it an unpopular opinion to say that i like him as a villain so far? i saw so many jokes on his incompetency. Idk, i like that part where he said that he reached the fade in someone’s name, it makes me think he’s not just power-hungry person(?) who’s just evil,but was originally serving someone, and he said that the gods were either gone or corrupted and he spent hundreds of years thinking what to do with whatever happened so he seems like he knows what he’s doing and maybe(!just maybe) he is trying to fix things that are wrong but we can’t see that? And of course he hates the inquisitor, he has to redo his stuff all over again, i’d hate the inquisitor too. im probably looking too much into it. My wish is that, if he’s evil, he became so gradually, but originally had good intentions? Or there’s more to things going on that we just don’t know and he does... Maybe this was his tragic attempt to fix things but he would ultimately fail and be branded as a villain etc etc. I’m getting carried away

If it turns out he’s just evil for the sake of being evil then feel free to tell me so now so i don’t embarrass myself further with plotting myself lol.

A side note, is he the Architect? Or the same? In DA2 he says he’s a tevinter magister, right? and he ceased to be a human. Also in DA2 it seemed like he was the boss, and here he said he reached in the name of someone (probably more important than him). But what is the Architect then?

And with that we reach the skyhold.

in skyhold

I didn’t know you meet hawke so soon ;__; i thought that was like, somewere more to the end of the game, since the big decision and all. But the mission is already opened and i am going to procrastinate on it until i finish every side mission :<

Also he is so sad ;__; i understand, but at the same time... all that humour now bitter sarcasm :’(

(also, very shallow remark, but i really really prefer his looks in da2 than here... it’s like they softened him. He’s more...oh god idk bearish(???) than hawkish(????) you know what i mean? the nose isn’t as sharp anymore, the beard is... what is it with the beard... anyways i get the game has its limits so it’s fine. it’s fine! fine.)

then there was the fight that i remember since twitter >:D

It’s what made me want to play dragon age and i finally reached it T-T so good! I love how you can see the both sides and everything they say is true but they’re so angry at themselves they’re taking it out on each other TAT

Cassandra later says Hawke probably wouldn’t have joined the inquisition even if she found him, and i wonder now if that’s true... At first i thought, nah, Hawke has too much of a hero complex, he would feel too responsible to just say no. Besides, he’s with the inquisition now (tho i can’t find him anywhere anymore!). But at the same time, the way da2 ends was such an iconic walking away from everything, and not taking into account the hocus-pocus rift stuff, i can imagine him refusing, especially seeing how bitter he is now. It’s also a question of how much would have cassandra told him i guess. idk, what do you think? Would he lead or nah?

another person i want to find but can’t in skyhold are the templars with ser barris. i can use them on war table missions but otherwise they’re non-existant? i forgot to talk to him back in haven but now i wonder if it was even possible and if he was even available there, since he isn’t here. I spent hours just running around skyhold looking for the guy :(

and then everything becomes unimportant bc aaaaa!! she! is the arcanist! Dagna! im so happy and proud(?) she went and reached her goals x)

anyways that’s all for now, laters

some random updates:

so i did the halamshiral and gave up to my “stick to the character” mode, and nothing went my way, but that’s life. Met morrigan! i almost forgot she appears lol. And, despite also jumping on the wagon of give-morrigan-better-clothes train, i have to admit seeing her in her old clothes was a relief after that dress at the ball. It’s not the way the dressed looked, but the way she moved in it... god im shallow

i also initially didn’t like morrigan being at orlais court of all places, but after the conversation that’s supposed to explain why she’s there i’m kinda ok with it. I mean, i still need some more info. Wouldn’t Tevinter be better? she’d practically become a magister overnight if she got this good in the game so fast. It’s also unconvincing how everyone knows everything in orlais but somehow nobody connected that the random kid that has no bakcground whatsoever with morrigan who keeps checking on him? But at skyhold she’s just “hey i have a kid, he’s no trouble, right?”  but hey, it’s morrigan. She can do anything. I’ll just have another story idea in my head.

Then there was news of the new divine that could be either cassandra or leliana and i don’t honestly know whom to choose. I’d prefer leliana over cassandra simply bc cassandra is more of a military mind, while the position of the divine would be more political. But lately every mission with leliana was spy spy, kill kill... Do we really want that for a religious leader? On the other hand, it would nicely round up her story from origins to inquisition... But cassandra is more of a public figure than leliana is...

when cassandra said:

“I want to respect the tradition, but not fear change. I want to right the past wrongs, but not avenge them. And I have no idea if wanting any of them makes them right.”

great moment. She’s usually so convinced and rash, i forget she’s more doubtful and open minded than what she looks like. Everything about cassandra is different from the impression she gives ;__; I love her so so so so much. (when she says she considers the inquisitor her friend i melted, next time varric pulls up the “seeker has no friends” joke, my heart will no longer be breaking).

I did a bunch of personal missions. Some were cool, some were ????. Also there were war table missions with zevran, that was cool. Also i love the codex entries in skyhold. The archery competition with varric banned? Dancing lessons failing bc lace harding is on the move all the time? Perfect.

And i met chargers, i like them, and aaah that staff-bow from the trailer is such a cool idea ;A;

What i don’t get with bull’s chargers is - they’re a mercenary group right? But isn’t swordselling seen as the complete misunderstanding of the qun? I get only bull is qunari, but he’s the leader of them? How is that not frowned upon?

And lastly, i don’t think i’ve said this, but i love that they added codex entries in the loading screens. love it.

update

After months of procrastination, i have faced my fears and have met alistair. it was very anticlimatic beating 11 level monsters when i was level 21...

but.. ALISTAIR TAT He’s changed... but not changed... but changed! Like, his personality is the same, but he’s more serious, doesn’t run from responsibilities, isn’t as bitter as hawke (also, why do i get impression that i am supposed to get the impression that they’re friends? they’ve met like, once, and talked for less than a minute.. whatevs. let’s pretend they’ve met again when on the run), i really love the inquisition alistair ;;__;;

Also, i managed to get that awkward demon baby family reunion :D

 know that morrigan says the vaguest generic thing “i told him his father was a good man” bc of various world states, but i also think she’s come a long way not to mock alistair, and then when he notices that she didn’t use the opportunity he mentions that the kid changed her and she’s like “pfft, yea right, you wish”....

... when she was the one who said that in the first place ;;__;;

Awwww :> I love that they bicker but softly. Kids have grown up :’) Anyways, when will alistair start paying alimony

The only weird one is Leliana bc when morrigan was introduced she was like “danger danger” (smth i’d sooner think alistair would do), and when alistair is (supposedly) in skyhold, Leli doesn’t even mention him, only hawke.  bruh, what were they to you, you almost died together ;;__;;

oh i also slayed a dragon.  I didn’t even want to fight that dragon. It was a hillarious feat of inquisitor, solas, cole and blackwall, all on level 21, having to chug all the health potions right at the beginning while fighting a dragon that was... level 13, after which i just let go of controls and suddenly everyone was hella good at fighting and slayed it (only cole needed revival several times).  

And, befitting the wild-dream feel that it had, when i got back to skyhold and visited companions, suddenly i was drinking pelin with iron bull, and he’s reminiscing on that fight with the dragon and i’m like

it was awful and you weren’t even there.

i forgot to update

but last time i was playing i finished the hawke/alistair sacrifice and all the torture i went through with deciding whom to sacrifice vanished bc frankly, at one moment, i wanted to sacrifice both of them, but in the end it was much more easier to sacrifice hawke bc inquisition hawke just didn’t feel like hawke to me, while alistair improved since the origins!

and now i remembered why i didn’t update, in the same day cassandra rejected me so i was sad and didn’t continue playing since then (i think last time i played it was around easter?)

new update

BLACKWALL!! or should i say Thom Rainier? Wow, what an arc! It was also so fun bc i was all strict mode, picking the third option, telling him his life is in inquisitor’s hands and all that, but in the end i set him free. He’s so good, a true knight T-T

Also i romanced sera. we’ll see how that goes.

Also, fave point in the game so far, i wanted, for so long, to sit at that val roeayoux (can’t spell) cafe and finally did it with cole’s personal mission. THANK YOU COLE YOU TRULY CAN READ PEOPLE’S MINDS.

another interesting thing was that after specialising as a reaver, cassandra said that drinking dragon blood makes you grow scales and become mad. Iron Bull said that inquisitor smells better bc dragon blood and that qunari generally smell better than humans. So i’m guessing qunari have fractions of dragon in them? ok...

and now i started that mission with morrigan and the puzzles are killing me lol, i am this 👌 close to just go chase calpernia and give up on a well of sorrows.

[struwwelzeter]

Because i miss your design themed rants (it is good word here) i would like you to rank Rammstein album covers from designers point of view.

Ah, I love you. This got VERY ranty.

This is kinda hard because I tend to judge the entire packagaing/notes, and when I count that into it the ranking would be ever so slightly different. I’ll mention it for each I have Opinions (TM) on, but yeah, this is solely going on cover. I’ll only do the studio albums, not made in germany or the DVDs, or this will get too big.

7th: Rosenrot.

I know lots of you are gonna hate me for this. It’s not that I don’t like it, I do, it’s beautiful. Unfortunately it’s ... slightly lazy. It’s I think their most obvious cover and obvious feels like it’s good design but never truly is. It’s got that first idea feel, if that makes any sense. There is always that project where you go “uh can’t think of anything, but this works.” It’s not a bad thing, they clearly still knew what they were doing. It’s just ... that typical photoshop post apocalyptic composit that lost of metal/alternative bands did at some point. They all did it because it’s cool. No argument there. It’s just that I expect a bit ... more.

6th: Herzeleid

I know it’s iconic, but. The execution?! Terrible. The colours of their skin and that flower?! Too different to feel monochromatic, to same same to contrast nicely. Too much texture. What is that?! The positive bit is the placement of the typography because, neat! Most people fail at that. I like the blue-grey there aswell, how about you’d added that to their skin a little? No? Ok.

Also, this (Richard speaking):

“The bloody sleeve! What a crazy situation that was. We approved the photos in a car park without thinking what we were letting ourselves in for. When we saw what the designer had done, we freaked! We looked so… gay! All of us stripped to the waist. It was like an ad for a gay porno film. So we had to say, sort it out. Make us look straight again. Change the sleeve.”

Who in the fuck works like this?! Nevermind, I know it was a considerably younger Dirk Rudolph, but fucking hell, have some self respect, all of you. I know they didn’t know what they were doing, they probably had the management/record company comission it, and that was still the time graphic designers were seen as just pixel pushers from that time it took 3 days to layout a poster. Still. What was that brief?! Could you have sat down for 20 minutes and talk, perhaps?! Also, I hope this is how Richie learned to be the nightmare client I know he is. Don’t approve layouts in a car park, what the fuck is wrong with you.

It’s a pity because the concept? Nice. Sculpted men infront of flowers, what else do you want from life. Why crysanthemes, tho? Too textured in that macro shot. What is that photo angle?! Might try and redo that if I ever feel like it.

5th: Reise, Reise

This breaks my heart a little, because it’s my lonely island album. And it isn’t bad by any stretch. Actually, their album cover game is ridiculous, can I have that established as a general benchmark? It would make for a lot less mental break downs. The thing is ... I like the idea. Make it look like the black box, cool. The problem is the type. It makes it look like “Flugrekorder Nicht Öffnen” is the album title. To be fair, Typesetting is my main thing, and album artists get it wrong (imo) 99 out of 100 times. I wish they would have comitted more and just left the titel off and solved it with a slide in, or a sticker or something like that. It’s just a bit ... weird. What works brilliantly is that it’s very memorable, stands out on the shelf, is unusual, all of that. It’s iconic. I do like it very much but I had to place something here.

4th: Liebe ist für alle da

Now the thing with that album is that it has two covers. If I’d gone by the original one, I’d have to place it behind Reise, Reise. Everything RR has in impact, this is missing. It’s too dark, has too many pieces, it won’t stand out on a shelf. Especially not in the CD age when it was on 12x12 cm. Even on a Vinyl, it’s ... just not that impactful. Sure, the photograph is beautiful but meh. Luckily there is a second option. And that - is almost like a logo. It works as a symbol, and that makes it so strong. Less is more. Brilliant. You can draw it from memory. It’s so iconic, the kind of stuff that starts showing up in subways, drawn on the back of a seat and sprayed on walls. Tell me you never wanted to paint that on a flag and take it to a pride parade. I am sure some of us have.

I do want to mention the booklet in this, because it does bump it up a little too, because where the panorama image fails as a cover, the inside is done so beautifully with the fold out, the type setting, everything. It’s special, and done with love and it shows.

3rd: Mutter

There is just something about this that is so, so, so memorable. Everyone recognises this. If you ask anyone over the age of 20 to describe Rammstein with an album cover only to someone less familiar, is anyone gonna say anything but “they’re the band with the embryo in close up”?! Maybe this is subjective because that’s how I first got exposed to them, but I don’t think so. It’s such a powerful image. It’s both beautiful and uncomfortable, the way Rammstein as a whole and that album in particular is beautiful and uncomfortable. It’s stunning. That’s it. Unfortunately, this one falls apart inside. The went too far with the whole Matrix inspired cyber elements. It’s trendy and trendy never stands the test of time, in that it has the same problem Rosenrot has, but much worse because it’s not even done that well. They could have just used the photos and kept it raw. The type setting on the cover is as good as it gets with albums tho, so I am happy.

2nd: Sehnsucht

Ah, Sehnsucht. The most perfect band shoot they ever had. Helnwein just ... did it. I don’t know, it both defined and summed up who they are aesthetically for the longest time. It’s the visual statement that says “this is Rammstein”. It ... just looks like a band that sings about heartbreak and necrophilia is supposed to look like. Don’t you agree? How else would it look like? Even that omniously coloured beach. It’s as if the predicted the mood of True Detective, only less Hollywood. That darkness we don’t want to see, that can happen anywhere. And where they fell short with Mutter, where they added too much on to these powerful images, they just added the type. Granted, it was the 90s so it’s slightly experimental type. But unlike most type in the 90s it stood the test of time. Add the whole variable cover versions and chefs kiss! Beautiful work. Makes me happy and emotional and ugh.

1st: The White Album

I’m just calling it that now. The Matchstick. You know, good design is made up from three components only: Concept. Commitment. Execution. The concept of this is so streamlined and clean. It’s the entire Rammstein story narrowed down to a single little thing. It’s small and ordinary looking but it can become dangerous and big. It’s underestimated. A little piece of wood with a head of phosphor and calium chlorit and yet you can commit the most legendary arson. It’s the personification of the thing that has become synonymous with them: Fire. It says so much with so little. And then they comitted to that. No useless typography, a simple but oh so well done photoshoot, the simple text on white. They didn’t ad too much additional ideas on to it, they trusted that one to carry and it does. They could have done without the black and white match stick arrangements inside, although I’m not even sure if that’s not just a limited edition thing, it’s a bit too much almost. They got scared a little there. The execution is also well done, I have very little to critique, only that I feel it lacks a tiny bit of love. The thing is, the more minimalist you go, the more love you have to put into each element. I feel like the spacing of the type should have been fixed in a few places but honestly that is being very very picky. Or not. Because if it wasn’t for that, and the teeeeny tiny commitment issue, this should have been a candidate for the packaging grammy. I mean it should be even the way it is, but we all know how those fuckers ignore our boys.

I’m done. Can I use this as application? Do you think if I send them a run down of basically tearing them apart they will hire me?

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Ninety Eight

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

October 29th, 2000

Emile smiled, looking over at Remy, who was more excited than he had ever seen his new friend before. They had gone down to a local arcade to fool around and play some games, and Remy was super invested in Pac-Man. Like, more invested than Emile was in cartoons. And that was definitely saying something.

Remy finished the level he was on and whooped. “All right! New personal best, baby, let’s go!”

Emile laughed. Remy was a little abrasive around the edges, but this was proof that he could soften with time, or at least, hold his tongue in check and not be hurtful if he really wanted to be. Not one bad word left Remy’s lips, not even for the ghosts when they almost ate him. Emile was...surprised. He was starting to realize that he was fond of Remy. Not even out of pure spite. He was just fond of him as a friend.

  March 28th, 2004

Emile was sitting in the living room of his parents’ house, with his grandfather sitting next to him on the couch. Things had been really strained ever since Emile had delivered the news that he was going to marry Remy. But today, Emile could see just how much that strain had been affecting his grandfather. He looked older, withered, and Emile swallowed. If Emile and Remy hadn’t been able to get married, how likely was it that Emile would only hear about his grandfather when he had passed on?

No, stop it, that line of thinking wasn’t helpful. His grandfather definitely hadn’t been pleased that he was going to marry a man, no matter what they did behind closed doors, but he was still alive. “So...you wanted to talk to me?” Emile asked hesitantly. He cringed at how uncertain his own voice sounded.

His grandfather nodded. “I have been doing some thinking, ever since you said you were bisexual.”

Emile flinched minutely. “I don’t regret telling you back then. And I don’t regret telling you I got engaged, either. It would be wrong to just...not invite you to the wedding.”

“It’s all the way in Massachusetts,” his grandfather said, almost petulant.

“They’re the only state where gay marriage is legal, Grandpa. They may not recognize us as a legal couple here, but we wanted the ceremony as a symbolic thing. If and when gay marriage is legalized everywhere, or at least here, we’ll redo the papers and make it so that yes, we are legally married no matter what state we go to,” Emile said. “And until then, Remy and I can get papers to enter a civil union. Next best thing, although in our minds, it’s not enough.”

His grandfather put on a brave face, a fact which Emile appreciated. “And...you’re certain about this?”

“As sure as I have ever been about anything,” Emile said with a nod. “This is something both of us are positive we want. And we’ve both been tested, neither of us have any nasty surprises in the form of...you know...sexually transmitted diseases. No HIV, if you were worried about that.”

“I had...friends in the eighties, who never told me they were gay, until they got sick and couldn’t hide how they got it anymore,” his grandfather said. “I definitely don’t want that happening to you.”

“It won’t,” Emile said, putting a hand on his grandfather’s knee. He hoped he was being as reassuring as he was trying to be.

“And this makes you happy.”

Emile smiled. “Grandpa, Remy makes me feel like the happiest person alive. I love him with my whole heart.”

His grandfather nodded. “Then, there’s something I want you to have. Consider it an early wedding present of sorts.”

Emile’s eyebrows shot up as his grandfather passed him a nondescript brown package. He tore into it and he laughed when he recognized the shade of pink that had given him so much pride in the past. He stood, pulled it out and unfolded the bisexual pride flag... his bisexual pride flag. He thought he might cry.

Although, considering he had given Remy permission to bust in here should he start crying, that might not be the best idea.

“There’s another flag in there, for your fiancé,” his grandfather said.

Emile turned back to the package and pulled out a flag, folded up in a triangle like his was, sporting the red and orange stripes that Emile immediately recognized. “I...wow. Thank you, so much,” he managed, putting it back in the package.

His grandfather stood and hugged Emile tight. “I may not understand, but I don’t have to. It makes you happy, and that’s all that matters.”

Emile actually cried at that, Remy be damned, and hugged his grandfather tight. “Thank you, so much,” he repeated. “Thank you.”

“Just marry the man of your dreams, Emile. All I ever want for you is to be happy,” his grandfather said.

Emile grinned. “And Remy, too?”

His grandfather sighed and nodded with a weak smile. “And Remy too.”

Emile laughed and called, “Rem, get in here!”

Remy immediately burst into the room, wide-eyed and worried. “What?!”

“Grandpa has a gift for you,” Emile said, passing the opened package to Remy.

Remy looked inside and pulled out the flag in shock. “Wow,” he said, stunned. “I don’t know what to say.”

Emile’s grandfather shrugged. “Emile could do way worse,” he said.

Remy’s hackles were starting to rise and Emile stepped in. “Remy, Remy! Remy, he's joking,” Emile assured.

Emile’s grandfather had a sly grin on his face and his shoulders were shaking. “Emile and I don’t pull punches with each other, and we would tease each other to Hell and back when he was younger and going through a rebellious face. It’s a form of love, I assure you,” his grandfather explained to Remy.

“You’re on such thin ice,” Remy said, but lowered his guard just a fraction.

“Considering your history, I probably should have put more thought in before I said that joke,” Emile’s grandfather mused. “But my point still stands. Emile could do way worse than someone who makes him this happy, and who he trusts without a second thought.”

Remy turned a little red, and Emile laughed. “You might have broken him, Grandpa!” he teased. “And before we could even exchange vows!”

His grandfather laughed, but Emile didn’t miss the strain in it. “I’m gonna be honest, Grandpa. You don’t have to come to the wedding if this...makes you uncomfortable.”

“Emile, don’t be ridiculous,” his grandfather said. “Do you want me there?”

“...Yes,” Emile said softly.

“Then I’ll be there. I’ll get comfortable enough to throw rice on the newlyweds after you say your vows and make out at the altar,” his grandfather said. “Your wedding invitation showed me how committed you were to not only Remy, but to me. You gave me chance after chance to connect, and, well, I may have had my head in my ass for a while but I’m no fool. I’m growing old, Emile, and I want to be in touch with you whenever the Lord calls me home. I want you and your future husband and I to be in good standing when that day comes.”

“Hopefully it won’t come for a while yet,” Emile said, tears still falling as he hugged his grandfather tightly.

“Now that we have the...feelings all out of the way,” his grandfather laughed, “What do you say to some catch-up? How are your studies going?”

“Oh, Emile here has only gotten one ‘B’ his entire college career,” Remy laughed, clapping Emile on the shoulder. “And that was in gym. Apparently, his teacher was a bit less endeared by Emile’s giant puppy coordination than most.”

Emile’s grandfather laughed. “That sounds like my grandson,” he said, beaming at both Remy and Emile in turn. “So I take it you’re still on-track to graduate, then.”

“Yeah,” Emile said, scratching the back of his neck. “Like, there are kids with four-point-oh grades, so I’m not going to be the valedictorian speaker, but I’m still pretty proud of those grades. Especially considering that for a while, I was pulling night-shifts at Target, and I still work there to help fund everything.”

His grandfather nodded. “Things never seem to get cheaper as life goes on,” he said sagely. “The way inflation’s going, I don’t think it’ll ever get down to what it once was.”

The three of them got comfortable in the room, Emile and his grandfather on the couch, Remy sitting on the coffee table. Some time later, Mom and Dad walked in. “Everyone’s made nice, I take it?” Mom asked.

“I don’t think Remy would be sitting on the table if they hadn’t, honey,” Dad pointed out.

“Okay, you’ve got me there,” Remy laughed. “I don’t usually do this around people I’m uncomfortable with.”

“I hope that I can continue to make you more comfortable around me in the future,” Emile’s grandfather said. “The way I acted before was...immature, and uncalled for, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Remy said with a little smile. “You’re owning up to your mistake and learning from it, and that’s all anyone can really ask for. I learned that from Emile, here, over the years.”

“Stop,” Emile said, blushing.

“What? It’s true,” Remy argued. “I was a heartless bitch when I first entered college. You taught me that it was okay to feel. I owe a lot of my growth to you.”

“Not all of it,” Emile pointed out. “You’re the one who decided that you were going to grow. You made that choice, I just added the...stakes and the twine.”

“Still, stakes and twine are pretty important,” Remy insisted.

“Boys, boys, you’re both pretty, and pretty important to each other. No need to debate it,” Emile’s grandfather cut in.

Remy snorted at that, and Emile burst into giggles.

“You know, you’re not bad,” Remy said to Emile’s grandfather. “You had a bit of a moment, there, but I think you can get better. What’s more, you think you can get better, which is what really matters. And I, for one, am very relieved that you’re willing to put in that work. I know that you coming to the wedding has been a source of some of Emile’s anxiety for several months now.”

“Well, someone couldn’t see me until Spring Break, not that I exactly blame him for needing some time away from me,” Emile’s grandfather said. “And it wound up working out, because those pride flags I got you came in late, and if we had met up before February, I wouldn’t have had them in time.”

“I definitely appreciate the pride flags,” Remy said, laughing. “It makes things ten times easier at Pride Parades. People will seek out those specific colors like a code and once they see you with it, they’ll come up and talk to you a lot faster, because they know you’re one of them.”

“It’s a community thing,” Emile filled in at his grandfather’s confused look. “The parades bring people all over the city, or sometimes, the county or state or nation to be themselves at this one place at this one time in June. Remy and I try to make a point to go every year. It’s really nice.”

“Well, I might not join you in that, because Lord knows I’m not as young as I used to be, and I don’t handle summer heat well, but that sounds like fun for you two,” his grandfather said.

They chatted a while longer, before Mom pointed out it was getting late and everyone had a stretch of driving to go before they made it home. Emile and his grandfather hugged for a long time before they left the house.

Emile’s grandfather and Remy shook hands, exchanging friendly smiles as they stood at the edge of the house. “Good night, Remy. I’ll be pleased to see you at the wedding,” he said. “And...for what it’s worth, I’m sorry that whoever hurt you in the name of religion did so. I’m starting to learn that faith and traditions are much more fluid than rigid, and those who hold onto those beliefs will one day end up a byproduct of ages long past. They will be on the wrong side of history, and...I hope that they come to see things this way. Even if they don’t, you’ll always have a grandfather in me, and I think Emile’s grandmother, God bless her soul, would have taken an immediate shine to you.”

Remy stood there in shock at Emile’s grandfather's words, before he choked out a watery, “Thank you, sir. Really, that means a great deal more than you could imagine.”

They all exchanged one final goodbye before getting in their cars. And as Emile dozed in the passenger seat on the drive home, Remy looked at the pride flags, and excitedly chattered. Sometimes, people could indeed come around. Emile’s grandfather, and Remy himself, were proof of that concept. Emile smiled sleepily, closing his eyes. All was right with the world.

[genderheaven]

recent updates:

made a deviantart - if you don’t have money, but want to contribute to me, i welcome and any all points! 

added ‘intersex’ to the landing page of the gender lists in the ‘common and umbrella terms section’. i don’t enter intersex spaces bc of my situation (been told i have extremely high t for a “”woman”” and do have many features most likely indicating some kind of intersex condition but never been Officially Told so i’ve just opted to not) soooo - let me know if i need to phrase the definition in a different way, i want to make sure it’s accurate and not offensive to anyone

patreon is up and live, but i won’t be doing anything with it until about after the 30th of september when this strawpoll ends

everypronoun is officially on the back burner for now, i’ll return to it when i feel the interest, but i’ve decided i’ll probably be COMPLETELY revamping it/redoing how i format things, so that will extend the time i spend away from it since i’ll have to figure things out

same for the orientation list. i’m gonna keep hoarding orientation definition posts, but i need to rethink and completely revamp how i want each entry to look, because the nature of orientations needs these entries to each be vastly different from genders. (i keep trying to make new formats for entries and not liking them! aaaaaa i’ll figure it out eventually)

queue is finally emptied of the gender definitions i had in it!! which is very exciting. i’ll be turning the queue down to post way less posts in a day now, and instead of queueing gender posts, from this point on they’ll be posted straight from drafts and added when i do post them.

things i need to do:

go find untagged posts on this blog and tag them + add to doc

post/archive the crap ton of genders from twitter i’ve collected

add the last few pages of /tagged/genders to the list (currently at page 41/51)

after these other bullet points are done: go through /tagged/flags, /tagged/pokeic, and /tagged/aestheigender to make sure i catch everything

check if foodic/foodgender has a flag, if not, maybe make one it’s got one, added

check if there’s a flag for aesthetigender

check if there’s a term whatsoever that’s literally just “when your gender is defined by/related to a character”, some kind of umbrella term for terms like these to fit under 

[please let me know if you know of anything for these last  points!]

[alj4890]

Quote Prompt/Joey Tribbiani Quote Friends Prompt

(Thomas Hunt x OC*Amanda) with the quote: "You guys are perfect for each other. Y'know, we look at you and we see you together and it's just... It fits. Y'know? And you just know it's gonna last forever." As requested by @krsnlove

Thomas x Amanda with assistance from Maxwell 😏

A/N Alright, let's see what kind of shenanigans I can cause for these characters. And yes, James Marsden will always be Maxwell Beaumont in my mind and heart 😂 Just look at those dimples! *sigh* Adorable. Just the fluff for you bff!

@lxaah11   @alleksa16   @penguininapinktuxedo   @blackcoffee85   @stopforamoment     @hopefulmoonobject     @krsnlove     @annekebbphotography        @hopelessromantic1352   . @sunflowergirl05   @desireepow-1986  @greywitchyshots   @lilyofchoices  @moodyvalentinestories  @emceesynonymroll   @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms   @ab1901     @lolablackwrites     @flyawayboo   @i-bloody-love-drake-walker   . @trappedinfandoms   @kate-mckenzie​

Masterlist

Epic

Amanda's head jerked up as the door to her study flew open.

"Maxwell! What--"

"We're going out!" He came around her desk and picked her up. He threw her over his shoulder and marched past a chuckling Hudson.

"Would you put me down?! You can't keep doing this everytime you want to go out." Amanda muttered.

"This is the first night in forever that neither of us has dates." He responded, a little skip to his step as he walked out of her duchy. "Tonight is the night for the Beaumont/Bridgerton Epic Extravaganza!"

"But--"

"No but's unless they are shakin'" he dropped her into the waiting car's backseat. He waggled his eyebrows making her laugh and hopped in beside her.

"To the boutique!" He ordered.

Their driver nodded and took off.

"You dragged me out to go shopping? I hate trying on clothes." Amanda grumbled. "Can't we go out like normal people to a bar and not worry about outfits?"

"You're slowly killing me with this kind of talk." His voice held a hint of exasperation. "Have you forgotten what it's like when we go out?"

"No, I remember it well." She folded her arms. "I can't act like that anymore. I'm too old to be drinking to the point of turning into ---"

"The craziest, dancing-est, most funnest party girl in Cordonia?" He finished for her.

"Yes." Despite her efforts she laughed and squeezed his hand. "We did have so much fun when we went out."

"Always. We were the ones who brought the party to these places." His dimpled smile slowly disappeared. "Tonight will probably be the last time we ever do this."

"What makes you say that?" She asked.

"Thomas." He reminded her.

"Thomas? What does he have to do with any of this?" She asked.

Maxwell let out a heartfelt sigh. "He's going to propose to you."

"No he's not!" She laughed and shook her head. "He hasn't indicated anything remotely close to that."

Amanda sobered when she noticed Maxwell's serious expression. "Come on," her voice squeaked, "he hasn't even said he loves me. Marriage is the furthest thing from his mind."

"You never read the entertainment news, do you?" He pulled up a set of pictures of Thomas in a jewelry store.

Amanda refused to even hope that these were true. "He could be in there for anything. Like--"

"Like a diamond ring?" He argued. Maxwell noticed her hesitancy and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Anyway. Let's focus on our last night together as the dynamic duo."

"It won't be our last." She promised, a slow smile forming. "Unless you're planning on making Nadia an honest woman."

His smile turned tender. "I intend to do that very thing when I take her out for a romantic night on the town." He opened the car door and grasped her hand. "Come on. We need one dress to rock the night away."

************

"Maxwell, I've tried on eight dresses." Amanda groaned when he handed her another armful. "If you're trying to get me to the point where I’ll drink the night away to forget this torture, you're succeeding."

"One of these is it." He pushed her back into the changing room.

She stepped out in the ninth one and did a quick spin. It was halter top, dark green silk dress that had hints of black shadows hidden beneath the light dusting of crystals. It had a high slit and open back.

"That's it!" He exclaimed. "That's the dress for our epic night out!" He flagged down a worker and quickly paid for it.

"What are you doing?" Amanda asked once the tag was removed.

"Call this an early engagement gift for my bff." He replied. He held his arm out and gave a slight bow. "Shall we Lady Bridgerton?"

She couldn't contain her smile and slipped her arm within the bend of his. "We shall, Lord Beaumont."

*****************

"We're flying to America?!" Amanda exclaimed as the private plane took off "Why?"

"New York nightlife is calling my name." Maxwell stretched his legs out in front of him. "By the way, your bags are near the bathroom in case you want to redo your makeup."

She touched her face. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing. It just doesn't scream Epic Extravaganza." He grinned innocently when she narrowed her eyes and rushed into the private plane's bathroom.

Amanda washed her face and completely reapplied her makeup. She made certain to add more smokey eyeshadow, adding a touch of dark green under her eyes to make her hazel eye color pop. She frowned slightly at her hair and curled it once more. She stepped out and did a slow twirl.

"Well?" She asked with a wink.

Maxwell sat up and whistled. "Now that's an epic look! Tonight is going to be unforgettable."

"Aren't they all?" She teased sitting across from him.

"You're not wrong." He turned some music on. "But tonight will be extra epic. Just you wait and see."

***************

"A limo?" Amanda climbed in and sat down. "Max, just how much is this epic night costing?"

"Ten grand or more." He shrugged when she gasped. "My royalties are rolling in from The Royal Romance. This is chump change."

"I wouldn't ever call ten grand chump change." She searched through her purse. "Maxwell, you didn't pack my wallet!"

"I only grabbed your passport." He popped a bottle of champagne. "That's all you need." His grin flashed. "Early engagement present, remember?"

"I'm paying you back when we get home." She insisted.

He handed her a flute filled nearly to the brim and tapped his glass against hers. "No you're not. Now," he placed a finger over her lips when she opened them to argue. "Let me practice my Man of Honor toast."

She noticed his hopeful expression and smiled. "Hit me with your best toast."

"Yeeeeessssss!" He straightened his posture and cleared his throat. He turned his blue eyes all around the limo. "Attention please! Man of Honor about to say a few words." He waited and rolled his eyes. "If the hot Hollywood people at table eight would direct their attention up here," he smiled flirtatiously, "I promise you won't be disappointed."

Amanda cleared her throat and cocked an eyebrow. She motioned to the empty spot beside her. "Thomas and I are waiting."

He grinned at her pretending along with him. "I grew up with what might possibly be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

"Max..." Amanda placed her hand over her heart. "That's so sweet--"

"And I also grew up with Amanda." He teased. He ducked when she tried to hit him. "Kidding!"

She laughed and sank back into her seat. "My champagne is waiting to be sipped, may we hurry this toast up?"

"Seriously though." He continued. He reached for her hand. "My best friend is the most beautiful bride in the world tonight. When she first met Thomas, I knew this was it. She would never find anyone who could love her like he does. No one could come close to the adoration he has for her."

Amanda squeezed his hand.

"And I've never seen her fall so hard or so fast for anyone but Thomas. He could search the world over and never find another who finds him perfect. One who believes his talent is unmatched. One who loves him with everything within her."

"You're about to make me mess up my epic makeup job." She sniffed, dabbing at her eyes. "I wish all that was true."

He squeezed her hand. "And I know--" the limo stopped. "We're here." He downed his glass and urged her to do the same. "We don't want to be late, come on."

He held tight to her hand and dashed into the hotel.

"Max, why would we be late?" She asked once they were in an elevator. "We've never had a timetable on our nights out."

"True." He said, grinning. "I guess I can't wait for our epic night to start."

She hugged him tight. "Careful. You're going to make me demand more Epic Extravaganzas."

"Something tells me nothing will top tonight's awesome epicness." He linked his arm with hers. "Time to get our party on." He stepped out of the elevator and pushed open the doors to the rooftop party already underway.

"Nice choice!" Amanda yelled over the music.

He snagged a couple of drinks from a passing waiter and handed her one. "To tonight!"

"To the dynamic duo!" She added. She finished her glass quickly and the refill he pressed into her hand. She then grasped his hand and pulled him with her. "Dance with me!"

He followed her out onto the crowded dance floor. He smiled at the people he noticed over her shoulder and quickly spinned her into his arms before dipping her.

"Hey!" She squealed with laughter. "You can't pull those type of moves yet." She stumbled upright. "I have to have at least two more drinks and lose these shoes to be able to keep up with that."

He calmed his moves down as a slow song began. "Alright, no more goofing off. This song calls for us to respect the love."

She shook her head. "Right."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Not feeling the love?"

"Not really." She replied, grinning. "I love you, but not the way this song is describing it."

"Wrong partner, huh?" He teased.

"Definitely." She responded. Her smile grew bigger when he twirled her.

Maxwell let go of her hand and watched as she tried to stop herself from crashing into the man behind her.

The tall, dark haired man wrapped his arms around her waist to steady her.

Her eyes widened. "Thomas! What are you--I thought you were filming in Hollywood."

"I took some time off." He replied, pulling her closer to him.

She looked over her shoulder at Maxwell and saw his proud smile. He turned around and gathered Nadia in a hug and kiss while swaying to the music.

She felt a sense of excitement thrum through her at what the night now held and turned back to Thomas. "Well, this is a nice surprise." She glanced around and suddenly recognized those dancing and mingling. "What’s going on?"

"I believe it is an engagement party." Thomas told her, his lips brushing hers.

She wrapped her arms around his neck when he deepened the kiss. "Who's engagement?"

He gave a slight shrug as he took in her appearance. "You look beautiful."

She rose up on her toes and kissed him again. "Thank you. All Maxwell's doing." Her eyes drifted down his body. "As usual, you look very handsome."

His smile turned tender. "You make it difficult to concentrate when you look at me like that."

She laughed softly and rested her head on his shoulder. "Better?"

Another slow song started and he rested his head against hers. "There's only one way to make it better." He pressed a kiss to her ear. "Marry me."

She jerked her head up. "What?"

He caressed her cheek as he continued to sway with her. "I'm in love with you."

Amanda's brow furrowed as she looked up into his achingly handsome face. "I love you too."

His lips curved. "Then, marry me."

"Is that a question, Mr. Hunt?" She teased.

"It's what I hope." He whispered in her ear.

She gently pressed her lips to his. Her eyes lifted to his dark gaze and she nodded. "Yes."

He cupped her face as their mouths met in a passionate kiss. She smiled against his lips when he asked for her hand. Thomas slipped a ring over her ring finger and lifted her hand for a sweet kiss.

"WOOOOO!" Maxwell was up on the stage with a microphone, witnessing the entire proposal, and pointed down toward them. "She said yes, people!"

Amanda shaded her eyes when a spotlight was shined down on her and Thomas. The crowd cheered, only becoming silent when Maxwell motioned for them to do so.

"A lot of thought went into this epic night out." He began. "We got all our Cordonian family partying here with our new Hollywood bunch."

Addison yelled out at him. "WE LOVE YOU GUYS!"

"We love you too!" He shouted back. "Anyway, everyone raise your glasses!"

Thomas handed Amanda a glass of champagne then wrapped his arm around her waist. She was smiling up at him as she whispered how happy she was. He tenderly kissed her cheek while  whispering his own happiness.

Maxwell smiled down at the couple. "I already kinda began this as a practiced wedding toast in the limo, so let me just add one more thing." He held his glass up. "You guys are perfect for each other. Y'know, we look at you and we see you together and it's just... It fits. Y'know? And you just know it's gonna last forever."

Maxwell swallowed down the lump of emotion in his throat. "I already saw two people I love marry." He motioned toward Liam and Riley then faced Amanda. "Seeing my best friend in love with a man that truly sees how perfect she is..." He lowered his head for a moment. "It's all I ever wished for you." He took a deep breath. "To Thomas and Amanda!"

"To Thomas and Amanda!" Everyone else yelled out.

Amanda walked toward the stage and intercepted Maxwell as he hopped off. She threw her arms around him and thanked him, laughing when he spun around while hugging her.

“I can’t believe you actually told me Thomas was going to propose.” She teased.

“That’ll teach you to never doubt me again.” He playfully scolded. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to pretend I didn’t know what was going to happen. It would have slipped out at some point, so I figured I might as well tell you, knowing you wouldn’t believe me.”

She laughed and hugged him once more. “This night out really is the best we have ever had.”

"Told you this was going to be the most epic night ever." Maxwell bragged. He took her hand and twirled her back into Thomas’s arms. He then grabbed Nadia and held her close. “Now we party.”

[rappaccini]

wow i hate being right

(am joking.)

strong, long star wars salt to follow.

i didn’t expect tros to be great, but i didn’t expect it to be garbage. 

i had a good feeling about it, but i knew something was gonna be off, because they had to quickly pull things together after trevorrow was fired, chris terrio’s helping write it, jj isn’t good at ending things, and there was that fear of disney swinging too hard back to please the fans. i read the leaks, but i didn’t believe them. the red flags started coming in when the marketing campaign was a disaster, and specifically when they consciously removed rose from merch she was in, but i was still like We’ll See. there were a lot of things that we didn’t know, and i wanted to give it a chance.

i do feel like the issues begun with disney not committing to the three-movie plot, and not just the vague elements of female protag-enemies romance-redemption arc redo they had from day 1 (because they did. have those. from day one. the concept art proves it-- just not the rest of the saga. just not anything about finn or the war itself). they should’ve had the whole thing figured out, down to the scripts, and maybe even pulled a lotr and just shot it all at once. the lack of a coherent vision is blatant, and they should’ve known better than to try going one director/script at a time. 

for tros, i knew they were gonna have to change a lot of shit because carrie died, and that’s unavoidable, so i came around to the idea of leia dying, because it was logistically... one of the very few things they could do with her. 

i knew that finn and poe were gonna have underwhelming story arcs, because they had them from day one. yes, from day one. poe was a glorified extra in tfa. the tfa marketing campaign lied about how big a role finn would get, when his actual place in the story was to be the bait-and-switch main character so rey’s reveal as the True Protagonist would be Such A Twist. tfa never cared about making finn a nuanced character with an actual arc. jj literally left him knocked out in the snow, because he had no further use for him. sorry finn stans who hate tlj, but rj actually let the guy finish the arc jj dropped. we all created this idea of finn as a rebellion hero and future revolutionary when he was played for comedy, never shows empathy to fellow troopers, and had his trauma ignored from Day One, and never committed to the rebellion’s ideals in tfa. 

i knew they were gonna cram rey in with finn and poe and try to make them A Trio because they were marketed as one from day one, but never actually were one in the text itself. again, we made it up in our heads, because the marketing told us this would be important, but it isn’t. at all. like... finn and poe are a duo, and finn and rey are a duo, but rey and poe? don’t meet until the end of tlj. all three of them? no dynamic until movie 3. it’s Not There and three movies in it’s too late to start. disney fucked up big by marketing something that never existed. and the fandom took it and ran with it even though it wasn’t there.

[look at the tfa teaser trailer, showing rey, finn and... kylo, in paralleled shots. they were supposed to be the trio, and because reylo/bendemption was meant to be the Big Twist of the saga, they didn’t want to tell us the trio would be them. cue shoving poe in there.]

i knew finnpoe/lgbtq+ poe dameron wasn’t going to happen. that zorri bliss, a tragic waste of keri russell in a tin can helmet, was probably gonna be his No He’s Straight Guys Really ‘love interest.’ it’s disney. they will NEVER do any lgbt+ representation that means anything, until they know they can profit off of it more than they can suffer from backlash for it. they. are. cowards.

obviously, bc it’s jj, there’s gonna be fanservice, and an underwhelming plot, and the wrapup is gonna be... odd. the man doesn’t know how to end things. he never has.

obviously the good guys were gonna win. obviously rey was gonna be fine and kylo was going to redeem himself (again, sorry but... he’s clearly on a redemption arc. he was on one in tfa, but most of his juicier scenes were cut by jj because bendemption was meant to be the Big Twist of the trilogy, along with reylo, and the scenes made it obvious. if you didn’t read his character like this, sorry. but that is very much the way the story went. you do not have to like it but you do have to acknowledge it). obviously reylo is canon as of tlj, and would be in tros.

but. the questions of whether kylo would get to live, and if he and rey would be together at the end, the only questions the sequel trilogy actually put any stake in? well. that was what was still up in the air. that was what i was worried about.

(because look: kylo’s on a redemption arc, and we’ve already seen the redemption of a dark skywalker male. the only reason to do it again is to let him live. blah blah blah war crimes blah blah blah-- for fuck’s sake. it is a space fairy tale, and the cap of a nine-film saga. he was meant to live, and to have a happily ever after.)

(and look: rey wants a family more than she wants adventure, and the skywalker saga being about a woman who is not related to the skywalker family meant... pretty obviously, that this trilogy was meant to be the story of how she becomes a skywalker by guiding ben back to the light, reforming the skywalker family before she joins it as its new matriarch.)

so. then came the baffling switch to the tlj bashing in the awful press tour one week before premiere, and that was scary, but i didn’t want to jump to any conclusions bc star wars media tours are always obsessed over making mountains out of molehills bc we live in such an intense spoiler culture, and since no one can talk about the actual movie, the media outlets have to say something.

(which, side note: tros’s marketing lied for months about what the movie was until one week before it premiered. disney you fucking idiots, you can’t lie like this about a major property and expect to get away with it)

and then the leaks. which were blatantly stills from the film, but were removed from all context, so i still thought, there are a lot of ways this could go. We’ll See.

and then the news from the premiere came out, and that was that.

so. it’s real fucking bad. all the worst things that could happen happened. to the point where... the whole sequel trilogy is now pointless. like, narratively pointless. the skywalker saga ended on an awful note that will poison the use of that name in any stories set in the universe’s future, and it deserves nothing less. 

the skywalker family is dead and gone, and ~rey’s technically a skywalker~ because she, a twenty-year-old adult, was adopted by her new ghost parents luke and leia to replace the Bad Child, ben, with a Good Child. that... is garbage. they’re all dead and that’s that, and their story retroactively becomes a tragedy instead of a tragicomedy. kylo’s redemption arc, by ending in his death, added nothing new at all to the formula. he’s just vader 2.0, but younger, hotter, and redeemed by romantic love instead of familial love. 

rey started the story without a family, alone on a dead planet, a perpetual child. and she ended the story without a family, alone on a dead planet, a perpetual child, perpetually watched by the ghosts of parental figures. she’s worse off at the end than where she started, because now she knows that her family is terrible and dead, that she has to pretend like she isn’t their child for her own safety, and that no one will ever, ever come for her.

you cannot fucking tell me that she is honestly better off, or that she is happy with this. or that this trilogy is sending a Good Message to Little Girls that the only outcome for them if they want to be powerful and matter at all is to be alone (and sexless) forever, because the boy you like is a Bad Influence. fucking gag me.

again.... it was pointless. the whole journey was pointless, and empty, and even kind of mean-spirited, because of how pointless and empty it became.

i watched star wars as a kid, but i didn’t really care much about it. yeah, yeah, a ton of ppl are gonna whip out their dicks, start stroking and go oBvIoUsLy yOu DoN’t HaVe ThE pRoPeR bAcKgRoUnD tO lIkE tHeSe FiLmS~~~ 

to which i say... i was a fucking eight year old. i literally can’t help how i was introduced to them, and neither were you, and neither was anyone, and you cannot hold that against someone. if you do, you are an asshole.

so. i was introduced to them in my parents’ basement, watching them all in a marathon i didn’t yet have the attention span for, or a reason to want to do. i watched them in chronological order, so the ones i was paying attention to and remember most are all the prequels, because they were colorful, with pretty outfits and laser swords and padme and darth maul and anakin, and space romance and an ending that was sad. and i remember watching them with my father going on and on about how terrible they were and about how george lucas raped his childhood as i was experiencing them for the first time, and feeling bad that i liked them. then we watched the original trilogy, and i was tired and bored, because i was eight and wasn’t equipped to watch six movies back to back. by that point my father had shut up, because he actually liked them, but i’d already made that connection in my head that These Are Bad, and i didn’t want to keep watching if i wasn’t meant to like them. i also noticed the hammy acting in both trilogies for what it was. as a child, it didn’t ruin my experience, but i did notice it.

yeah, i don’t really have the same nostalgia goggles as True Fans but. i mean. i’m still allowed to like what i like, and say what i have to say about it. if anything, i think i have more of an objective viewpoint, being able to say that yeah, the prequels have a lot of technical issues (the acting and directing, aspects of the plot and execution), but you can still enjoy them, and you shouldn’t feel like a bad fan, or a stupid person for enjoying them. yeah, the original trilogy is What Started All This, but it’s hammy and ridiculous as fuck. it’s a series of b-movies that got unexpectedly successful, and while they’re especially charming because of that, and of course they changed the fucking movie game forever, they’re still hammy and ridiculous. they have some neat lore, but it’s still a goofy premise. i feel like everyone forgets that. 

so. when tfa came out, i was... about sixteen/seventeen. so technically speaking, even though i was on the old side, this was meant to be ‘my trilogy’ if the whole every-generation-has-a-star-wars thing the fandom holds to applies. which, the studio itself wants to sell us, so i guess it does. and i ate that shit UP. i finally understood what all the fuss was about. i had that little subconscious ‘oh hey my childhood’ thing, but for the most part, i felt like i was seeing something truly new. i was also old enough to acknowledge certain shit about filmmaking.

and look: this trilogy is still the most literate and well-acted of the star wars films from a cinematographic perspective. in those respects, it is better than the originals by FAR. rewatching scenes from it will be less painful from that standpoint. it’s just... now the worst from a storytelling perspective, because again, it now means nothing on its own, and as the capoff to the ~skywalker saga~ it’s... really insulting to said saga and mostly unoriginal. the few things that were original... amounted to nothing in the end. 

tfa was fun, but it ultimately was extremely derivative and it pulled most of its punches. i liked it because to me, this was technically the first time a star wars movie captivated me, and the shock of it having a female protagonist really fucking mattered to me, and for the first time, because of rey, it felt like star wars as a franchise was actually opening the door to female fans and saying ‘no seriously it actually is for you’ instead of needing ahsoka tano to sneak them in the back before the dudebros attacked them. 

but. with the context of the rest of the films, it’s meta for the sake of fanservice, and without anything meaningful to say about that source material. i watched tfa, dived into star wars, watched the clone wars, had a terrible time in the fandom because i.... *big shocker,* thought kylo ren and rey were going to have a romance, and that rey didn’t need to be some man’s biological whatever the fuck to matter, and as i got more familiar with canon... yeah. no. tfa is super derivative with not much of anything new to say. everyone got caught up in nostalgia, and are still caught up in it.

tfa should have been much more original, and it fumbled finn and poe as characters. as thrilled as i am that a woman got to be the center of this trilogy, it still very much treated her as the protagonist as a twist, see: the marketing hiding that rey’s the force-sensitive, hyping finn up as The New Jedi, and not just The New Jedi, but The First Black Jedi. which is especially terrible because the film literally snatches the role out of the hands of a black man and hands it to a white woman, and then leaves said black man unconscious, without any resolution to his arc, and just moves on without him. bad fucking look, jj. 

rogue one was fine. like... it was okay, it had a neat concept, and the characters were fun, and i enjoyed the ending, but it wasn’t necessary. it did not need to exist, and i’m not especially happy that it does. 

so tlj swung for the fences, and it pissed a lot of people off but it’s unironically one of my favorite movies. it came along at the right time in my life, when i was really getting into writing and film, and had really begun developing my taste in it. also, the fact that i had been the exact same age as rey is a small coincidence that made me stupidly happy at the time. and as i watched, it felt like i was watching something that had come out of my own mind, that was made specifically for me, because of all the writing choices being exactly the ones i felt the story needed to work. that little sense of feeling like This Was Meant For Me just made it all the more special, even though at the end of the day, it hadn’t been, and the reasons why it holds up to me on so many other levels have nothing to do with that.

again. about the writing: i like bold choices, and i felt like star wars desperately needed them if it was going to stay relevant and evolve into something worth continuing. we’ve had two trilogies. why should we have a third, if it’s only going to be the same as the first two? why does this one matter? what’s different about it? what does it add to the story? the fact is that tfa never answers any of these questions, it only teases at a few different ideas jj is too cowardly to commit to. and then tlj delivered on all those fronts. jj was too vague with tfa, so tlj said, fuck it, we have one more movie after this, it’s time to fucking buckle up and own up to our choices. yes, rey’s a nobody, yes, kylo’s getting redeemed, yes, they’re a couple, yes, the jedi screwed up, yes, we’re balancing the force by going grey, now let’s fucking go. we have one more movie after this, there is no time to mystery box this shit.

i’d already accepted that finn’s arc was incomplete, and that poe hadn’t gotten one, so what was done with the characters, while i don’t necessarily ‘love’ the canto bight and chase plots and they aren’t necessarily What I Would Do, i’m cool with them and see plenty of positives in them. finn actually gets to complete his tfa arc, and we actually get some political context into the galaxy that tfa fails to set up. and his comedic personality and lack of empathy towards other stormtroopers? was right there in tfa too guys. the closest we get to stormtrooper rebellion incited by finn? happens in a deleted scene in this movie. was it deleted? yes. is it actually here? yes, and it’s miles better than anything jj ever did. poe also gets to actually develop based on the One Trait we know he has from tfa to keep his char consistent, and all the toxic dudebros watching the show get a narrative tongue-lashing. good. 

also, What I Would Do is kind of an odd place to criticize films from. like... yeah... i guess? but you didn’t make it. it’s not gonna be exactly how you envisioned it. you can Just Dislike a thing, but you can’t hold something as subjective as that against a film if you want to have a sound critical opinion of it. 

i love rose. i love that she isn’t a Typical Star Wars Hero, and that her role is helping show off tlj’s theme about the future that sw could have if it expands itself and challenges itself and learns from the past but doesn’t religiously cling to it. rose is a part of that: she’s an example of what a future star wars hero could be. the fact that jj sidelined her in tros, and disney erased her from merch is... a pretty clear indication of what fans they’re trying to appeal to, and it’s revolting.

i’m also cool with luke’s characterization, because again, it had to do something different, and luke being the fandom’s interpretation of him would have been dry. also, it’s the second act of a trilogy, of course it’s gonna end in the characters in a dark place. 

i loved that rey was a nobody, because the fandom’s dynastic obsession with proving the female character’s power is because of a man is gross. her heritage was built up by fans and media as the Biggest Thing About The Sequels when in tfa itself it wasn’t at all and i grew to really hate that. also, if she’d been a skywalker or solo, it would mean that our good guy original trio abandoned a toddler to live a life in slavery on space mad max world. you’ve gotta be shitting me if you think that’s better than rey not being their kid.

i loved that kylo’s redemption was confirmed, and that the force bond theory the reylos came up with in 2015 was where they were going, and that reylo was happening from the standpoint of the female gaze. it was something i’d noticed in tfa as a possible future story direction (that of course jj was too chickenshit to actually do more than gesture towards), and seeing it fully realized in tlj was a fucking gift. the feminine aspects of rey’s journey too, like the symbolism of her journey and how it plays... beat for beat... exactly into how stories about female sexual awakenings go... yeah. i couldn’t believe what i was seeing was happening in a major blockbuster film, produced by a major studio, written and directed by a man (with significant help from carrie fisher, of course). 

i also... love that tlj drags the toxic side of the fandom through the mud. truly. the star wars fandom is garbage. yes there are good people, and the fandom has a capacity for wonderful interactions, but so many star wars fans not only attack each other for incredibly petty things, like oh gee idk... not having been introduced to the movies the Right Way as a child (a thing that... no one has control over), but they have bullied actors out of their careers, off of social media, and into bouts of severe mental illness. they bullied george lucas away from finishing his own fucking story, and they would go on to take pride in being a ‘fandom menace’ (christ, like... if you don’t like the thing anymore, fucking leave?). even the new-crowd fake-woke fans who didn’t engage with the story on anything other than a purity politics-centric pov were gonna hate it, and that felt wonderful, because for two straight years, they were the ones harassing me on social media. the slap to the face was sorely needed, and it felt so, so good, knowing that as i was watching it, some asshole who’d sent jake lloyd death threats (or some college kid who misinterpreted a scene in tfa as Kylo Ren Literally Raping Rey and thought that bad take was reason enough to doxx and cyberbully teenagers over their enjoyment of fictional characters kissing) was sitting in their seat, frothing at the mouth. it was a well-deserved karmic kick to the teeth. this is the bed you made. fucking lay in it. 

(to the people who weren’t toxic douchebags, and still disliked tlj, i am genuinely sorry that you didn’t like it. and i do understand that it took a lot of risks that you may not have appreciated, and that it didn’t provide luke and rey and kylo and finn and poe with what you wanted for them. my issue is not and has never been with you.)  

and now, because of tros, i’m gonna love it even more because of how much of a flash in the pan it was. it’s become the only aspect of the sequel trilogy that actually delivered on new themes and took risks that made sense. i was always gonna dip out of star wars content after the sequel trilogy was over, but knowing rian might write another star wars trilogy has me with my foot in the door, waiting to hear news about it. if it happens, i’ll be there. if not, well, he gave us a godsend, and the only part of the sequel trilogy that had anything truly deep and meaningful and original to say. we saw what the series could have been, and i’ll take that any day over jj’s empty fanservice vessel.

solo wasn’t great. the sexist writing really took me out of it, and the more i try to look back to find some good in it, the more i find i dislike. enfys nest is still cool, i’m hoping that qi’ra gets to be a monstrous crime boss but i’m aware that she’s probably just fridged offscreen, and i HATE how val was immediately killed and what happened to l3. i can’t watch the movie again because the female characters, with the exception of enfys, are just so poorly treated. i still hope alden ehrenreich has a good career though. the man didn’t deserve any of the hate he got, and he did a great han impression in my opinion.

tros is... again, bad from a narrative perspective. it’s also a blatant attempt by disney to swing back to placate fans they never needed to placate and a prime example of why panicking and placating shitty fans is never, ever the right thing to do: the story is the story. that matters more than any fanservice. there is no way you can please everyone, so don’t bother with trying and instead focus on saying something meaningful. you knew the course you were going. you should have stuck with it. you could have done something different, you could have capped the story off in a satisfying way, and instead you shat the bed, and fucked up the legacy of your whole story. and that will be all people remember it for.

so. i still feel like my optimism about tros wasn’t misplaced. i’m not gonna consider myself or anyone who expected anything from this movie, or from the sequel trilogy as a whole a ‘clown’ or ‘stupid’ for trusting in a story to close on a note that makes sense. that is what is supposed to happen. putting your trust in someone to not let you down and betray you is never, ever stupid.

yeah, i didn’t believe the leaks, but that was because the leaks described a real dumb plot. i’m not gonna accept the idea that because i hoped for something good or even decent that i somehow Deserve To Feel Bad for being disappointed or feeling disgusted with it all. 

storytellers and audiences sign a contract together when the story begins, in which they agree to work together to tell and experience the story. the audience supplies their attention and interest, and the storyteller supplies their effort. sure, things get bumpy, but as long as both sides commit to keeping to it, the story will probably work out. you might not like it, but you will look back and say ‘well, at least it made sense and meant something.’ if one side breaks it, it screws up the other, but there’s a chance they can get something out of it. if both break, it’s over.

for star wars, both parties broke that agreement.

the audience, by getting angry when the story tried to challenge them a long, long time ago, responding with a set of flawed movies with an unholy amount of vitriol and hate. and then refusing to move on, or open their minds and sign back on, over and over again. they lost their minds at the prequels, and then tfa, and then tlj, and created an environment that was overwhelmingly toxic for one another and for the people creating those stories. 

and then, the storyteller for betraying the story itself to try to win them back, when there was nothing they could have ever done to do that. you have to be discerning when considering audience feedback, and you never, ever play ball with your antis. this is why.

the fact is that a lot of the audience didn’t uphold their end, but a lot of them did, and i’m a part of the latter category. it isn’t a high and mighty holier-than-thou proclamation, it’s just me saying that i didn’t do something terrible. and a lot of other people didn’t either. anyone who paid attention to the story, and expected it to work out in a way that made sense, or have something meaningful to say, and was open to it as long as it did so is not delusional or stupid for thinking so, or for hoping for the best, and their disappointment makes perfect fucking sense.

and frankly i do think that if you laugh at people who feel this way, who did uphold that contract and were fed crow for it, who trusted and were open and hopeful that something they cared about wouldn’t hurt them... that’s a real ugly fucking look. it says a lot more about you than it does about any of the people you’re laughing at.

to the actors and crew, you did what you could with you had, and i really hope you all get out of this okay. i hope you’re taking care of yourselves, that you’ll be able to weather the shitstorm you’re going to be forced to be the face of even though you had absolutely no choice in this, and that you’ll be able to get work after this. 

to the writers, director and studio, you fucked up big. good luck with the consequences. i hope you understand where they’re coming from, so you can fucking learn something from this.

so i guess “my trilogy” was pointless, and the ~skywalker saga~ is a tragedy where the bad guy wins in stamping out the family for good and replacing them with his heir. k. uh huh. wonderful. so worth it, especially since this is... a series of movies... for young people... and especially children. good god. 

anyway, i’m gonna have a great time on ao3 with all the fix-it that’ll come out, and i’m gonna never watch anything star wars again, unless daddy rj gets to make his movies, in which case i will happily start giving a shit again. 

regardless, i had a wonderful time with tfa and a phenomenal time with tlj, i got to have some great conversations with some great people about the saga, and i got to learn a lot about writing, toxic fandom, and How Not To Fuck Up Your Story. the experience is something i’m not gonna regret. 

[paceunknown]

give me that revision 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

well okay ! and in case you’ve decided to read this yet don’t know what this ask is about i came up w an idea to sort of rectify what i felt was an issue left mostly unresolved in season three of stranger things—the core four’s friendship—and it bothered me so i thought about how i would redo some bits of the season. k? k!

so let me begin w making it painfully obvious i love the show; this isn’t me tearing it a new one for the sake of doing so. i’m critiquing and offering commentary because i want it to be better. and i’m in no way saying my idea is perfect or polished, i’m just someone w a lot of time and a decent propensity for written thought.

my main issue w the resolution of the friendship tribulations between mike, lucas, dustin, and will is that there never really is one. we get that brief moment just before the starcourt battle where they reunite and share a hug but that’s about all, and it doesn’t address will’s concerns w his friends moving on without him—hell, he and mike never talk about their argument again—which was the main source of contention behind the arc. and to some degree, i understand: will said it himself, there were more important matters to attend to, and stopping all the literally life-threatening action to sing kumbaya would not only be dumb in-universe but would be out of place narratively. but it also wasn’t like it was a macguffin or just a one-off, throwaway line we weren’t really supposed to care about past that specific moment (see nancy and johnathan’s argument about classism v misogyny, though i would’ve loved to see that expanded upon further), will feeling left behind by his friends ran deep, so deep that he destroyed castle byers over it. so i said to myself, if i could rearrange the season, maybe add and take away a few things here and there, what would i do? how would i resolve that story line?

so the main thing i latched onto was castle byers. lucas and mike discovered will in the middle of the night, frenzied and having literally taken a bat to the fort he built with his brother. and it’s never talked about again. lucas tries, yes, but will tells him not to worry about it, and that’s it. i dunno about you, but i’d certainly try to find a time to bring that back up, especially if my friend is moving away. so here’s where my rewrite begins !

first, the night of mike and will’s argument, mike doesn’t make that “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls” comment (as much as it pains me to cut it) because he doesn’t know why will’s upset, and he doesn’t know why will’s upset because will isn’t saying “can we play d&d now?” every three seconds. i feel like a major issue this season had in its writing was being too transparent about everything—i mean, the audience literally knew russian agents were trying to open another gate the entire time, we were just watching the characters figure it out for themselves. so in this version, i rectify a little of that by having will show us he’s tired of his friends being girl-crazy through his actions, his body language, maybe a snide remark here and there. will is annoyed but he doesn’t wanna rain on everyone’s parade, so he keeps his comments to himself, and neither mike nor lucas pick up on it bc they’re so focused on el and max. so when will finally does blow up, mike genuinely doesn’t know why. this also gives some more breathing room to the arc, allows for more conversations to be had between the boys about their feelings, and also allows for will’s upset to continue to grow.

which brings me to point two: will doesn’t break castle byers that night. instead, they have their fight, will goes home, and when mike and lucas come to his house, he just sits in his room, resolutely not opening the door. only when he gets the goosebumps on his neck does he run after them to tell them what’s going on. this, again, allows for more breathing room, because we know will’s upset, but because there’s now the supernatural threat to focus on, all those pent-up emotions are just gonna continue to fester because neither of his friends actually get it, and he hasn’t had a genuine moment of catharsis yet. so idk how else to restructure the season bc things happen pretty quickly from then on, but within the next episode or two will breaks castle byers. hell, it can be that episode so long as it’s clear in the show that it’s not within the same 24 hours. i just think it’s important to show that the argument did nothing for will, he’s still #going #thru #it, so when we see him take a bat to castle byers it affects both us and him that much more deeply. and most most importantly, no one knows he did it.

we finally come to the finale, where everyone’s helping the byers fam pack (i’m also making the executive decision that it takes at LEAST three days and not just one like johnathan said, it’s unrealistic to pack a whole house in a day). it’s day two of three, and at some point will sneaks away to castle byers because he’s got enough emotional intelligence to know he regrets what he did and he does want a few of the things left in there. he picks through the wreckage and i imagine a really heartbreaking scene; where before he just had an outburst and broke everything, now he actually goes through things with affection, and you can tell it’s really hitting him that he’s moving. then we hear crunching, and the camera focuses on mike’s shocked and concerned face. (and this is where it’s gonna get real fan fic, but it’s the only way i can think to relay my ~vision~) (also none of this would have to be verbatim)

mike: um... [will doesn’t turn around] i know you told us to do what we wanted but there were a few things we didn’t-

will: just ask johnathan.

mike: we did. he said to find you

will, annoyed: i’ll be back in a minute, just, go help el or something

mike: ….did the storm do that?

will: what do you think, mike?

mike, walking closer: why would you do that? when did you do that?

will: just leave it-

mike: you built that. it’s been here forever. it was supposed to be here... after you were gone.

will: well maybe i don’t want any evidence that i was here.

mike, hurt: what?

will: just face it, mike. you’re different, lucas and dustin are different-

mike: that’s not true!

will, getting choked up: -and when i move tomorrow, you guys are probably gonna be going on, like, group dates with el via radio, or-or come up with some grand scheme to visit dustin’s girlfriend in utah! and it won’t matter that i’m not there!

mike: how could you say that? of course it’s going to matter. you’re part of the party, always and forever.

will: well the party didn’t seem to matter much to you this summer. not any of you. not unless it was life-threatening.

mike: will-

will: can you just leave me alone? i need to go through all of this to see what i can save

so mike hovers for a bit, not knowing what to say, before it’s clear will is done with the conversation and he trudges back to the house. we get a brief montage of will crying as he goes through the rubble, more to show the passage of time than anything else, some really sad synth music is probably playing. then we hear crunching in the leaves, and will assumes its mike and tells him to go, but we get a shot of mike kneeling down beside will, and we see in one hand he has a hammer and a box of nails, and a toolbox in the other, and after he holds the hammer and nails out to will, we get a shot of his face and we can tell he’s been crying, too. and will says, “i leave tomorrow”, to which mike simply replies, “it still matters”, and will takes the tools and the two boys get to work. not long after that do dustin and lucas come to the ruins, too, their own faces tear-stained, and without words they fall into rhythm with will and mike. all four boys’ final shared act together is literally and figuratively repairing their friendship.

eventually it starts getting dark and joyce comes out to get them, a teary smile on her own face, and the boys put on their finishing touches before painfully tearing themselves away, arms across each other’s shoulders and waists. will breaks away briefly, proclaiming that he forgot something, and we see him get the “all friends welcome” sign to (barely) stand up, and everyone smiles again before continuing their trek to the house.

now just think about having to watch that, you’re probably already crying, and then getting to the bit where el’s reading hopper’s note. WHEW. but honestly, this not only rectifies an arc that was basically left hanging, but it also provides great character moments, adds context and closure to castle byers, and gives us a fun scene of our main party members being kids one last time.

[shadowsong26fic]

The Handler AU

As requested by @tigerkat24.

(I do also have fulltext for one scene in here, which will be posted and linked here in the near future, probably tomorrow, after I clean it up some.)

Right. So. A couple of notes before I get started:

1) This AU prominently features Lavinia, and also super self-indulgent. Gonna say that straight-out. This is me and my OC and a bunch of tropes I adore. It is not the most self-indulgent piece I’ve ever put together, but it’s probably up there. I say this because, while I am pretty much past the point as a fan/content creator/whatever where I’m ashamed of my self-indulgent BS, I understand that it might not be everyone’s cup of tea, especially when it’s as obvious as this piece is. And I like people to know at least in general terms what they’re getting into when they open a piece of mine. So, you know, bear that in mind as you move forward.

2) Because of the way I work/develop AUs/OCs/etc., there are certain personality traits/satellite characters/plot points that are common to all/most of Lavinia’s storylines (...yeah, it’s a Thing I do, with OCs yeah but also with OC-free AUs and AUs of AUs and ‘hey what if I changed this plot point here, or put OC B in this situation instead of that one, or stuck Canon D in...look, y’all have seen my Distaff variants, you know the kind of thing I’m talking about; I don’t always stop at a single layer of canon-divergence, but then there has to be a thread connecting everything, or it becomes a totally different story/character, right? ...I’m not sure I’m explaining this very well. ...anyway, back on topic). As a result, despite being an AU of a completely different AU, this outline is therefore somewhat spoilery for a future Precipice arc. I mean, I’m pretty sure I’ve hinted at where I’m going with her in the fic proper and/or bonus content, or at least I’ve tried to, (plus, I know I’ve mentioned some things here on tumblr about particular narrative/character tropes I like), so it’s probably not too surprising? Or, at least, I hope it’s not. If it is, I need to get better at foreshadowing… Anyway, it is still technically a spoiler. To the point where I considered sitting on this (and a couple related AUs) at least until a particular event from Arc Seven that makes said future storyline about as clear as it can be until it actually happens. But…I decided ehhhhhh, why not (plus this was requested). But, you know, if that is something you want to avoid, might be best not to read this outline until after Arc…nine, I think? Just as a head’s up.

3) This is essentially a Kallus-centric Rebels fic (though, as mentioned above, also prominently featuring one of my OCs). And, other than that one bit in the Valdemar AU I wrote a month or so ago, this is the first time I’ve actually written Rebels content. (…granted, I’ve plotted more things--the closely-related Pellaeon AU features Rebels stuff pretty heavily, as does the middle arc of the Valdemar AU, which started as ‘Anakin would do really well as a Herald actually’ and has now turned into a massive three-part kudzu plot of a niche crossover and I should really redo that outline properly at some point, plus a few other things…) Anyway, the point is, I’m not necessarily super familiar with the conventions/etc. of this part of the fandom, and I apologize for any off-voice bits.

Okay! Now that I have warned for spoilers, inexperience, and self-indulgent BS…welcome to the Handler AU.

Oh, one more thing I want to mention—because this is, as stated above, super self-indulgent, Kanan is still alive because I said so. He got pretty crisped in that explosion and therefore missed the final battle, but didn’t actually die.

(Imperial records may have listed him as dead for a while, because No One Could Have Survived That, but he did survive.)

(How? IDK, maybe Ezra actually was able to do something from the between-place in this version.)

(Point is, we still have Kanan.)

(Ezra and Thrawn are still on a road trip with a bunch of space whales, though.)

ANYWAY. On to the good stuff.

It all kicks off like two months after Yavin.

Some timeline notes:

Because timelining anything in Star Wars is A Project, I am making some executive decisions here.

We’re approximately a year after the Rebels series finale.

(Meaning Jacen is like 3-4 months old, depending on exactly how pregnant Hera was at the time.)

This is also about how long Zeb and Kallus have been explicitly dating.

(There was SO MUCH PINING going on for a while there.)

(But it took that long for either of them to actually do anything about it.)

(Kallus figured out pretty early on that he was interested, but didn’t really think he deserved this/had earned it yet/that Zeb could possibly be interested in him, and therefore decided to bury his feelings Like A Goddamn Professional Okay.)

(Zeb took a while longer to clue in, and then couldn’t figure out if this was just him or what--see above re: burying things; worked a little bit too well--plus he has his own issues to work through.)

(And then there were some frantic Confessions and so-glad-we’re-alive sex and…)

(Yeah, this is a thing now.)

(Exactly zero people who have spent any time with these two dorks at all are surprised.)

(As is so often the case, the last people to clue in that this was A Mutual Thing are the two idiots involved.)

(There may or may not have been a pool or three going.)

(Hera won at least one of them.)

So. Kallus has made himself useful wherever he can since openly defecting, really, but generally works analyzing intelligence reports and training field agents for potential undercover missions. Even if his specific information is getting more and more out of date (few, if any, of the codes, etc. that he knows are still valid at this point), some things aren’t going to change that quickly, and his background is useful here.

Anyway. He gets called in--

“We’ve been approached by a would-be double agent deep in Imperial territory; received three transmissions in the past few weeks. So far, everything we’ve been sent checks out/has been useful, but.”

“But you’re wondering if this agent is an ISB plant.”

“Exactly. She calls herself Vector.”

“She?”

“Yeah. The scrambler she’s using is doing its job, which means we can’t actually use a voice print to ID her, but vocal pattern analysis got us that much. And that she’s likely Coruscanti, Human, and under thirty. That’s about all we know.”

He goes over the data and the recordings from the first three contacts and nothing jumps out as a red flag/any of the tricks he’s familiar with.

On the first call, there’s some dancing around; as if Vector’s trying to make sure of who she’s talking to. What he’d expect from either a plant or a genuine defector, really. Not particularly helpful.

The other two are fairly brief/straightforward, and start the same way each time--This is Vector. I have a data file for you. Do as you like with it. Also not particularly enlightening, given the question he’s been asked to answer.

The data itself, though, is--interesting. Not easy to access, for the most part, and not necessarily all from the same source. Parts of it are the kind of thing ISB would use as bait, but just as much of it is not. Some of it provides useful context for intel the Alliance has received from other sources (some covert, some not), which is not the kind of thing an ISB plant would send.

So, he goes back to his superiors and tentatively reports Vector as probably genuine. He wants to be on hand for her next transmission, though, to be sure.

(He wonders, idly, who they had evaluate his initial transmissions like this, or if using an established codename and protocol was enough…)

(He’s Concerned it might be the second.)

(There are some worrying gaps in Rebel Intelligence’s security that he can only do so much to patch.)

Of course, there’s a slight problem with that. Vector’s transmissions haven’t exactly been regular--the second one came four days after the first, and then it was nearly two weeks to the third.

And when they do come, they’re very brief, so if Kallus is, say, busy with a training exercise on the opposite side of the base…

(Or otherwise occupied in a supply closet.)

(He does have, y’know, a life when off-duty.)

(...which is something that still sends him into weird brainspirals of “how did this happen” and “i don’t deserve this” and “when is it going to blow up in my face” on occasion, but that is a separate problem. One that he buries. Like A Goddamn Professional.)

(no that’s not a habit of his why do you ask.)

IN ANY CASE, this means that it ends up being her sixth message, close to three weeks after Kallus is initially brought in, before he’s able to listen in live.

(Transmissions four and five, after he reviews them, don’t really change his analysis, but still.)

Transmission six comes in while Kallus happens to be in the tiny corner of the current base that Intelligence has claimed.

It starts like the others did--This is Vector. I have a data file for you. Do as you like with it.

Once the file transfer initiates, he responds.

“Vector, this is Fulcrum.”

(Okay, technically, he probably should be using a different handle now, since it’s really supposed to be for field agents only and he isn’t one anymore. And there are similar shared code names for Intelligence agents primarily on base duty, or he assumes there are, but even after over a year of not using it, it’s still the first one that comes to mind. Reflexive, almost. And now it’s going to stick.)

There’s a beat of silence from the other end, and Kallus is briefly concerned that he misjudged the situation, that she’d going to panic and cut the transmission.

But, “I can’t leave the link open long,” she says.

(Part of him thinks she sounds...almost relieved? Like she’s been waiting to be challenged like this, and the longer things went on without a test, the more nervous she got.)

(He can understand that worry. That sense of just waiting for the other shoe to drop.)

(And, yes, other Rebel Intelligence agents probably could have tested her like this, and if he hadn’t been around as a resource they almost certainly would have, but given that he knows exactly what to look for, the Powers That Be had decided to leave it in his hands.)

“Of course,” he says, and asks her a few questions, rapid-fire.

(He’s less interested in the specific details of her answers--and he’s not really asking her questions about her identity--then how she approaches answering him. Not necessarily something he can explain, which is part of why he didn’t coach any of the other officers and get this taken care of on transmission four or five, but just trying to get a sense of her.)

(One thing he does is privately revise the estimate of her age--he thinks she’s younger than the previous guess, probably twenty or so. Sabine’s age, maybe, at the oldest. Which makes her even less likely to be a plant in his opinion; ISB wouldn’t put this much effort into setting up an agent that inexperienced, not on a mission this sensitive, even if she was inconceivably talented and precocious. As an in-person infiltrator, yes, absolutely; but for this many layers of intrigue...no, they’d want someone Experienced.)

She ends the transmission somewhat abruptly, after about five minutes, but he was more or less expecting that and anyway he has what he needs.

“Well?”

“She’s genuine,” he says. “I’m as sure as I can be of that.”

“Good to hear.” A pause. “...you’ve run undercover agents before, correct?”

Kallus shuts down the knee-jerk paranoid response as fast and hard as he can.

(There are almost certainly people in the Alliance who still don’t trust me but none of them are in this room. I know that. Calm down.)

“Yes, once or twice,” he says, cautiously. “For short-term assignments.”

“Congratulations. You just volunteered to be Vector’s handler.”

(Hence the name of the AU. AKA the one where Kallus adopts a baby spy who JUST HAPPENS to be Palpatine’s daughter.)

(...yeah, he didn’t really see that one coming.)

(...at some point, I should probably go through and outline Lavinia’s politics and her reasons for defecting in detail, but in the interests of focusing on Kallus’s end of things, which is much more interesting, a (hopefully) brief digression on the subject:)

(Lavinia was created and trained to be a spy/manipulator, to perform the kind of tasks and access the kind of information that Palpatine could as the avuncular Chancellor but cannot as Emperor, now that he’s thrown that mask away.)

(...apart from very specific, carefully staged moments, like with Ezra.)

(So, part of manipulating people means understanding them, which means Lavinia does a lot of research to put her targets into context, and in so doing comes across a wide variety of cultures/forms of government, at least in an academic context.)

(And that means that, once she starts thinking beyond “how can I survive until tomorrow” and starts thinking about broader impact/more long-range plans, it doesn’t take her very long to realize that her father’s government is...well, let’s call it deeply flawed.)

(What she does when she comes to that conclusion varies, depending on other circumstances--but she doesn’t necessarily defect right away. Mostly for practical reasons; in Masks!Verse, which this AU is a variant of, she has no Rebel contacts that she’s absolutely sure of.)

(Meaning, in this case, both “absolutely sure is an actual Rebel and not just sympathetic to their aims/politics” and “absolutely sure would be willing to work with me despite my parentage.”)

(And if she approaches anyone she isn’t sure of, it’ll get her or her contact or both of them killed. Defecting from a distance, while she can better protect her identity, has a much bigger risk of interception, which, again, would get her and/or her contacts and possibly a lot of other people killed. Or worse.)

(Basically, she doesn’t think defection is a viable option for her--there are some other reasons for this, but those play a distant second to these concerns.)

(But then Alderaan happens.)

(And these concerns carry a lot less weight.)

(It takes her a couple months to figure out how to make contact with Rebel Intelligence, let alone how to do it safely, but she starts working on it at that point.)

(...I think that’s the salient points here. Like I said, I have a fair bit more about Lavinia’s politics/etc. and the ways/extent to which she’s willing to defy her father in various AUs, but that’s enough for this one, I think.)

So, Kallus can’t really argue with the assignment (even if part of him kind of wants to? Not because he thinks he can’t do it, but because he’s concerned that being another deep-cover informant’s handler is going to dig up a lot of stuff he’d really, really rather keep buried.)

(Look, he feels like he’s finally found his equilibrium. He’s even, somehow, approaching happy with his life for the first time in what feels like forever which, guilt-induced brainspirals aside, he doesn’t want to give up.)

(Besides, handling Vector wouldn’t be his only responsibility, and if he does start losing that equilibrium, he’s not sure how much his other work will be affected.)

(On the other hand...)

(On the other hand, there are very few people who have done what he did and survived long enough to make it back to Rebel lines.)

(Oh, there are other deep-cover informants, sure; but the majority of them are plants inserted by Rebel Intelligence.)

(And while, even leaving aside the technicalities involved with Senator Mothma and others among the leadership who had previously served in the Imperial Senate, there are plenty of defectors--up to and including General Madine and some other persons of very high rank--for the most part, once they make that decision, defectors grab what they can and run.)

(The ones that don’t usually don’t survive as long as he did.)

(Or, alternatively, they don’t identify themselves to the Alliance or even necessarily work directly with them; they perform internal sabotage rather than espionage.)

(Those embedded defectors tend to last longer, but not by much.)

(Which means that he’s probably the only person--certainly the only available person--who has been where Vector is. Who better to help her?)

(As for his own issues...well, he is a Professional, dammit. He can damn well compartmentalize. He’s very good at that.)

(...yeah, this is kind of a running theme for him. Sometimes it’s a good thing, sometimes it’s...very much not.)

(It remains to be seen how much it’ll help or hurt when dealing with Vector.)

So, he accepts the assignment, and goes back to his quarters to tell Zeb and collect a few things--given the irregularity of Vector’s transmissions, until he can talk to her again and set up a better protocol, he’s going to basically have to camp out in Intelligence.

(Which he’s not looking forward to, but it is what it is.)

Zeb is already there when he gets back--their current shifts don’t entirely line up, which is fine; they have at least a few hours overlap most days which is better than some pairs can say.

After several minutes saying hello...

“Did I miss anything interesting?” Kallus asks.

“That Skywalker kid came by a bit ago,” Zeb tells him. “Looking for Kanan.”

Kallus blinks, halfway through fixing caf for the two of them. “...aren’t he and Hera off investigating a potential supply line?”

(Which is, of course, far below Hera’s current paygrade, but she volunteers for that kind of mission on occasion. An excuse to spend private time with her family, while still technically being useful and not taking actual time off.)

“Yep,” Zeb says. “Apparently, this is the third or fourth time something like that has happened. They keep missing each other.”

"Well, I’m sure they’ll link up sooner or later,” he says. “Especially if Skywalker’s actively looking for Kanan.”

(He hasn’t actually met Luke yet at this point, but he’s heard the rumors. He has no real doubt of this fact.)

“Yeah, probably,” Zeb says. “I think Kanan’s been trying to track him down, too. He’ll be sorry he missed him.”

(...yeah, we’re going with Anakin-and-Grievous levels of contrived coincidence to keep those two from actually meeting for a while.)

(Partly because it’s easier than figuring out all the timeline/plot implications that might have (and I’m lazy, and that is the focus of another story), but mostly because I think it’s funny.)

Kallus nods. “...did he and Hera take Jacen with them, or...?”

(He hadn’t seen any evidence the baby had been left with them, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.)

But Zeb shakes his head. “Nah, Sabine has him this time. Why? Something going on?”

“I have an assignment,” Kallus tells him.

“Huh. Extraction?”

(Logical assumption--the bulk of the fieldwork he does now, all-hands-on-deck situations like Lothal aside, is extractions. Occasionally helping sell an insertion, but generally the reverse.)

“No, not this time,” he says. “The agent who reached out, the one I told you about--I’ve been assigned as her handler.”

(He has long since gotten permission to discuss at least surface generalities of his work with Zeb, and they both know where the line is.)

Zeb’s ears flick a little, and Kallus can practically see him weighing the same pros and cons that he himself did earlier--and probably several others he hadn’t thought of.

“So, I guess that means you’re camping out in intelligence for a while?”

“Unfortunately,” he says. “Of course, there is a difference between being on-call and being on duty. And my schedule technically won’t change.”

Zeb perks up at that and grins before kissing him. “Well, I’m sure I an find an excuse to be in the area. Sometimes. Just in case. You know.”

“Mm.”

Fortunately, call number seven comes less than a week later.

This is Vector. I have a data file for you. Do as you like with it.

“Vector, this is Fulcrum.”

A brief pause. “Yes.”

“I’ve been assigned as your handler.”

(He figures the best way to deal with someone who’s probably twitchy and paranoid and otherwise on high alert is to be as scrupulously honest as he can. That doesn’t mean telling her everything, of course, but it does mean being straightforward, difficult as it is, and not outright lying.)

(If he can. So far, he can.)

Another pause. “I understand.”

(She’s hard to read on this one, whether or not she finds it suspicious. She might even be relieved again, that she’ll have a set contact point, rather than a whoever’s-available sort of situation.)

“There are some protocols I’d like to establish, for further contacts.”

“I can’t call at a set time,” she says immediately. “Or at set intervals.”

"I understand,” he said. “But I’m going to give you a more specific frequency to call.”

“Yes,” she says, and that definitely has a faint note of relief.

“Can you, if nothing else, send an all-clear transmission every two weeks?” he asks. “It doesn’t need to be at a set time, but so we can gauge--” whether or not you’re alive and uncompromised “--how concerned we need to be after a long silence.”

She pauses. “...I think so. Yes. I can do that.”

(Definitely young, he thinks, maybe even younger than Ezra--would be.)

“That’s all for now,” he says. There are others he wants to establish, of course, but those are the most important and her file transfer is nearly complete. 

“I’ll be in touch,” she says; hesitates a second; “Vector out.”

(...well, she’s signing off officially now, rather than just abruptly terminating the connection. Progress. I think.)

He goes back to his quarters, and life settles into a new routine.

He keeps up his old duties--analyzing reports, training potential undercover agents, etc.--and also keeps track of Vector and her reports.

That last one proves...well, his early optimism wasn’t entirely misplaced?

Vector is very, very good at what she does. Her files are varied in their content, and sometimes not as useful as she might’ve hoped, due to timing or other resource concerns, but the quality of the work she does never comes into question.

But part of being a double agent’s handler is assessing how they’re holding up under the incredible stress of the position. And she is frustratingly vague when it comes to anything approaching anything personal about herself.

In addition, there are two additional protocols he wants to set up early on--first is a way for him to reach her.

“Just because I have access doesn’t mean I have influence,” she says. “I can’t seed disinformation for you. Not without getting caught.”

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

(Though, of course, he had considered the possibility--as well-positioned as Vector seems to be, how could he not?--but while he doesn’t completely rule out the idea, he files it away under “only as a last resort.” Better to leave her in place as long as possible.)

“But if there’s something specific we want you to keep an eye out for--or if we need to warn you about something...”

“Right,” she says. “That’s fine, then.”

The second, though...the second is where they run into real problems.

“I also want to establish an emergency signal. If you need extraction, or if you end up captured by Rebel agents.”

(He still wonders, sometimes, if staying behind when Ezra came to extract him was the right decision. It had seemed so at the time, but...)

(He’ll probably never know. And fretting about it doesn’t do any good.)

(knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to stop.)

“No,” she says.

“Vector--”

And she hangs up on him.

Exactly why she’s so reticent to establish something like that, he isn’t sure--he has some theories, but...

It’s frustrating, to be sure. Makes it harder for him to do his job.

(And it makes him worried about her--if she’s working without any kind of exit strategy, that likely means she doesn’t think such a thing will be possible. Which, on the one hand, shows her dedication to the cause, but on the other hand...on the other hand, if she thinks getting caught is inevitable, she might get sloppy with her own security and that might well turn into a self-fulfilling prophecy.)

(The other alternative, that she doesn’t trust him, or the Alliance, with her safety if things do go wrong, is...well, probably more distressing, in all honesty.)

(Though not, perhaps, altogether surprising.)

He decides to seek Kanan’s advice on the problem.

(Kanan, after all, knows best what to do with unruly teenagers.)

(...well, so does Hera, but Hera’s advice would probably be less applicable/harder to apply to his specific situation. Also, she has better things to do than help him do his job.)

(Which is the other frustrating thing, that he can’t handle this by himself.)

Kanan’s advice is pretty straightforward--be patient, and don’t push her too hard. You can’t help her if she won’t let you.

(This is part of why I wanted him still around, incidentally.)

(Because there is something utterly hilarious about Kallus going to Kanan for parenting advice.)

(And that’s exactly what he’s doing.)

(Even if he hasn’t quite figured that out yet.)

So, taking this in mind, he backs off. A little bit. Decides to start from square one, and build a rapport, and go from there to get some of the other basics that he wants established.

Standard interrogation technique, technically. Not one favored by ISB, obviously, or really encouraged, but even they knew it had its uses.

Vector is still cagey about personal details, but she does start to soften a little as several weeks go by.

He brings up the idea of an emergency code phrase again, after about two months of this kind of sporadic contact.

This time, she says she’ll think about it.

Things hold in this pattern for about a year, and then Vector makes a call, as usual.

Or, it starts like a normal call, anyway.

“You probably won’t hear from me for a while,” she says, as the file transfer is wrapping up and they’re about to sign off.

“Are you in trouble?”

“No,” she says. “Nothing like that. And nothing related to the work we’ve been doing. But things are going to be...difficult. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to get an all-clear message out for a while.”

He doesn’t like this at all. “How long?”

“A month,” she says. “Probably. Maybe a little more, maybe a little less. I’ll contact you as soon as I can safely.”

It is one of the longer months of his life.

But, as promised, the dedicated comm he has for her lights up eventually.

This is Vector. I have a data file for you.

“Vector, this is Fulcrum,” he says. “Good to hear from you again. Everything all right?”

“Yes,” she says. And she seems fine, and he breathes a quiet sigh of relief.

When he tells Zeb about it later, though, is where it gets...interesting.

“Glad to hear your kid’s okay,” he says.

“My--she’s not my child, Zeb,” Kallus says.

“Really.”

“....”

“Look, you talk about her the same way Kanan talks about Sabine, when she’s off blowing things up on Mandalore.”

“I...wait, really?”

“Yep,” Zeb says, and grins at him. “I mean, it’s not a problem. S’kind of what we do in this family, isn’t it? Take in strays. ‘Bout time you got in on it, really.”

Kallus just stares at him. “I...what.”

Zeb waves a hand in front of his face. “Alex. Babe. You all right in there?”

He shakes himself. “Yes, of course. Sorry."

“Ehh, don’t worry about it. I mean, it’d probably have been nice for the two of us to talk about kids in general before we started adopting our own strays, but--”

Really, sometimes Kallus thinks that Zeb likes the expression he makes when utterly poleaxed like that.

(He does. He thinks it’s adorable.)

(Also, Zeb figures this is a conversation they maybe should have, because they’re clearly both in this for the long haul and he saw this opening and...look, no one ever said Zeb was good at broaching delicate topics gently.)

“...do you?” Kallus asks, when he recovers. “Want children, someday?”

“I mean...yeah,” Zeb says. “If you do. I mean.”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” he confesses.

(Because long-range planning is hard; because they’re at war, because he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop, because he doesn’t deserve any of this and planning for a future he doesn’t deserve is just--a little much for him sometimes.)

“But...yes,” Kallus says. “I think so, yes. I would like to raise children with you. Someday.”

Zeb’s response to that is positive and enthusiastic and leads to things they will definitely not be discussing with their hypothetical children ever.

It’s a month or two after that that Kallus finds out who Vector is.

(…well, for a given value of ‘finds out,’ anyway.)

He and Zeb are babysitting--Sabine is back on Mandalore; Hera is on duty; Kanan was supposed to be finally meeting Luke but there was an issue at the spaceport and he’s stranded for the next few hours.

(Like I said. Anakin-and-Grievous levels of contrived coincidence.)

Zeb has just put the kid to bed, and Kallus is watching the news.

“You’re still watching that?” he asks, nudging Kallus to make room for him on the couch and drawing him to lean on his shoulder.

“I’ve told you before, dear, knowing what the Empire is saying, no matter how different that is from what they’re doing, has its uses.”

“Especially if you know how their propaganda is constructed, I know,” Zeb says, and nuzzles his ear. “Just thought you were almost done.”

Kallus smiles faintly and leans into the caress. “I am, I promise. I’ll shut it off in a minute. I just want to--”

He pauses. Rewinds the feed. Pauses it--pre-recorded coverage of some public event the Emperor’s kid had been at, with the newscaster commenting on the progress of whatever “public works” project it was supposed to kick off.

“…what is it? Something she said?”

(...something to do with whatever this “project” is covering up?)

“Hush,” he says, fiddling with a few buttons and calling up a printed transcript and skims through it before sinking back against Zeb, letting out a breath.

“Babe?”

“I think I know who Vector is,” he says.

Zeb stares at him for a minute, then stares at the paused footage--frozen on the Princess’s face, icy and composed.

“…her?” 

“Her,” he confirms.

“Why…?”

“Little things,” he says. “The way she talks, some unique turns of phrase. And she fits the profile--young, Human, Coruscanti, close to someone powerful but essentially a civilian herself…and…when Vector disappeared on me last month, that coincided with a period where the Princess was more visible than usual.”

“Karabast,” he mutters. “When you put it like that…”

“It’s all conjecture,” Kallus points out. “I can’t prove any it. Not without digging deeper--which, if I’m right, risks compromising her cover--or asking her straight-out.”

(Which, of course, would also be a bad idea. It would probably seriously damage the trust he’s spent the past year and more building, and it might not even get him an honest answer anyway.)

“Right,” Zeb says. “…any chance someone else could put this together?”

Kallus makes a face. “Unlikely,” he says, though he doesn’t sound totally sure. “The recordings of our conversations are kept as hard copies only, for security. Not uploaded onto any networked drives. And a very small set of people have access to those copies. I doubt anyone could put it together without that access. Still…”

(Someone dedicated enough, who managed to access one of those recordings, or intercept a transmission along the way, or compromise the lines of communication from the other side…)

“Kriff,” he says. “Anything you can do about it?”

“Not really,” he says. “Other than brief Draven and keep doing what I’ve been doing.”

“Yeah,” he says, and studies the picture again; glances over at the morose look on Kallus’s face; feels his ears twitching. “Huh. Never would’ve figured the Emperor’s kriffing daughter to defect.”

Kallus jumps a little, drawn out of his thoughts, then rolls his eyes and gives Zeb a fond, exasperated smile (which was really the point, honestly; to needle him into a better mood), and rather dryly points out, “There was a time you would’ve said the same about me.”

“True,” Zeb says, and grins at him. “Guess it just goes to show, people surprise you all the time.”

“Indeed,” Kallus says, then reaches over to shut off the feed and changes the subject.

Six weeks after that, Vector goes quiet again. This time without warning.

When her two-week check-in goes by with nothing, he’s immediately concerned. She’s never missed a check-in before, not without warning. He decides to give her a day, and then ping her himself.

(He generally avoids doing that--only when he absolutely needs to speak with her about something time-sensitive that can’t wait for her to reach out.)

There’s no response to his message, either.

He reports the missed check-in, of course. Tries again the next day. And a third.

Still nothing.

(He knows a rescue won’t be authorized--technically, they don’t actually know for sure who or even where Vector is, and if his theory is correct, they cannot make a run on Coruscant for one agent, especially not one as visible as Princess Lavinia.)

(He keeps telling himself that. Over and over again. As he tries a fourth and fifth time to reach her.)

“Zeb,” he says, after a third full week has gone by since the last time he heard from her. “I need you to talk me out of doing something stupid.”

“Uh, sure, babe. What’s going on?”

He explains the situation as briefly as he can. “And I am this close to staging a half-assed unauthorized raid on Coruscant to extract her.”

“...nah, if we’re doing an unauthorized raid on Coruscant, it should be a full-assed thing.”

That...that wasn’t really the answer Kallus was looking for.

(In hindsight, he thinks, as he tries to redraw building plans from memory and plan this stupid, stupid venture, he probably should have gone to Hera if he really wanted someone to talk him down. Or possibly Kanan. ...no, Hera.)

(...it could be worse, though.)

(he could’ve tried asking Sabine.)

Fortunately, before they can actually run off and get themselves killed--

(or court-martialed)

(or in trouble with Hera)

--Kallus’ dedicated comm chimes.

“All clear,” he breathes. “That’s the all-clear. She’s...she’s alive.”

It’s nearly another week before he hears anything else, but finally a real call comes.

This is Vector. I have a data file for you. Do as you like with it.

“Vector, this is Fulcrum. Are you all right?”

(she doesn’t sound all right; it’s hard to tell through her scrambler, but she seems strained.)

“Everything’s fine,” she says. “I apologize for the delay, but things are settled now. My cover is intact.”

Which is good to know, but not what he asked.

“And what about you?” he says.

She doesn’t answer right away.

“Vector?”

“I’m here,” she says. “And everything is under control. You don’t need to worry about me. Nothing that--it wasn’t anything to do with this, I was caught on the fringes of something unrelated. It won’t interfere with my work going forward.”

Which still isn’t an answer.

(He’s pretty sure the non-answer is his answer, though. Damn it.)

(He knows the risks. Better than most. And he knows she knows them, too. It doesn’t make it any easier to hear, especially knowing that there is kriff-all he can do to help her.)

Into the silence, she says, “I’m your asset, Fulcrum. Not your friend.”

“......”

“I’m just--” She sighs. “I’m your asset. Not your friend. It’s...we should both remember that. It’s probably better, in the long run.”

And part of him is hurt; part of him is annoyed that he is being lectured on professionalism by a damned child; part of him is worried again--he did finally talk her into an emergency code phrase, in case of capture or other disaster, but here she goes again, hinting that she doesn’t have an exit strategy.

(Not like I did, either, he reminds himself. Can’t plan that far ahead. Not when you’re doing this kind of work. And even when Ezra came for me--)

(He buries it. Because he is a goddamn professional, Vector’s reproof aside.)

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she says. “And I’ve had worse.”

“........”

All right, that he likes even less.

“Vector--”

“I have to go,” she says. “I’ll be in touch when I have something else. And I’ll do my best to warn you if I have to disappear again. Vector out.”

And, in the interests of “good Lord this thing is close to 6k already,” we’re going to skip ahead quite a bit, about a year and a half, to just after the evacuation of Echo Base.

For the first time in a while, the whole family (minus Ezra) is back on the Ghost together.

(Kanan, Hera, Chopper, Sabine, Zeb, Kallus, Rex, and Jacen.)

(They’ve all been in touch and met up fairly frequently, but they’re no longer a discrete cell and they all have their own, often separate, duties with the wider Rebellion. So, while the circumstances leading to it are awful, it’s nice to have an opportunity like this.)

Orders are to lay low, and make their way by a prearranged roundabout route to the fleet rendezvous five days later.

The first night, they mostly spend catching up and letting Sabine fleece them all at cards.

(Except Rex. Do Not Play Sabaac With Rex.)

(They had all forgotten that rule.)

Hera is sending occasional messages back and forth to Command, to confirm/make adjustments/etc., but otherwise things are fairly quiet after the frantic rush of the evacuation itself.

(Fortunately, none of them were injured in the escape. It’s happened before, when they’ve had to leave a base in a hurry. That was a week no one wanted to repeat.)

It’s their second night of drifting, and Kallus is just starting to fall asleep (Zeb is snoring beside him; the noise honestly probably should have been annoying but is genuinely comforting at this point, to the point where he has trouble sleeping without it) when his comm beeps.

It’s Vector.

More accurately, it’s her emergency signal.

He extracts himself from the bed and slips out into the hall to talk the call.

“Fulcrum.”

“It’s Vector,” she says, unnecessarily. She’s not using her usual scrambler this time, but a more standard vocoder, probably cannibalized from a stolen helmet. She sounds drained, and slightly breathless. “I’ve been burned. I got...I got away. I had more..." She stops, clears her throat. “I got away. I was able to remove my tracker and I’m as--I’m as sure as I reasonably can be that I’ve lost anyone following me by other means. I-I pulled as much raw data as I could onto a couple of portable drives on my way out, but I’m on a...I’m on a sliced public terminal right now, I don’t want to keep the line open long enough to send them in the usual way and I...I don’t know what the protocol is now. Please advise.”

“Where are you now?” he asks. There are so many other questions he wants to ask, needs to ask, both from a personal and a professional standpoint--is she all right; how did she get caught; how did she escape; how long has she been compromised--but they can wait until she’s been located and brought in safely. He sets them all aside, and focuses.

(Like A Goddamn Professional.)

“Ixaly,” she says. “I’m on...I’m on Ixaly.”

He closes his eyes, mentally traces their route through hyperspace. Ixaly is in this sector, it shouldn’t be far...yes. If he’s counted right--they’ll be doing a navigation stop shortly, and dropping out of hyperspace. From there--a few hours to Ixaly, unless he’s completely turned around.

“There’s a cantina,” he says, “in the Diira district in Central City. The White Shale. Can you be there in six hours?”

A brief pause; he can hear her breathing. “Yes,” she says, at last. “Yes, I’ll be there.”

“That’s the fastest I can arrange a pickup,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

(If he’s right about how close they are, it might not actually take him that long, but there’s a balance between getting to her as quickly as possible and budgeting in time for something to go wrong. He doesn’t want to risk being late and having her move on because she thinks he’s not coming. He may not be able to contact her if something goes wrong; not if she’s relying on sliced public terminals to reach out to him. And he has no idea when she’ll be able to make contact again, or how long whatever data’s on her drives will stay viable...so, six hours. He’ll have to trust her to stay alive that long.)

“I’ll be there,” she promises. “White Shale cantina, Diira district, Central City, six hours.”

“Exactly. You know how to reach me if there are any problems.”

“Yes,” she says.

“It’s almost over,” he says. “You’ve done well, getting yourself this far. Just hold on for a little while longer, all right?”

“I will,” she says; takes a breath. “I’ll see you in six hours. Vector out.”

The line goes dead.

Half a heartbeat later, he feels the familiar rumble of the hyperdrive cutting out, switching over to sublight engines.

He’s in his window now, he doesn’t have time--

As he heads for the Phantom, he runs into Kanan.

“...what’s wrong?”

“Vector,” he says, clipped. “She’s had to run. She’s not far--”

“Go,” he says. “I’ll let Hera know. ...take Zeb with you. In case you need backup.”

(Which he doesn’t really need, and it might well spook his contact if he brings a team--he has run extractions like this before, after all, and Vector is particularly cagey--but he nods.)

“I will. Thank you.”

“How long do we wait before sending our own rescue party?” Kanan asks.

Kallus does some quick mental math--six hours to the meet; going by Vector’s history, she may need some convincing to come along (like I did, until it was too late; but it’s already too late for her, isn’t it?); she might be wrong about having a tail; they might run into unrelated trouble...

“I’ll send word once we leave the system. If you haven’t heard from me in twelve hours, that’s when you worry.”

“Got it,” he says, and starts off towards the cockpit to update Hera, when Kallus realizes--

“Wait,” he says.

Kanan pauses, half-turns back to him.

“I don’t know who Vector is, not for certain,” he says, “but I have considerable circumstantial evidence that she’s Princess Lavinia.”

Kanan takes that in, then nods slowly. “Right. Thanks for the head’s up. I’ll pass that along.”

“Thank you,” Kallus says again, and the two of them separate--Kallus goes to wake Zeb and then get the Phantom prepped and underway; Kanan goes to tell Hera what’s going on.

(...and corral his son.)

(Jacen has developed this habit lately of hiding on the Phantom when he thinks it’s going somewhere Interesting.)

(Which is usually whenever someone other than Mamma is driving.)

(He likes going on Adventures with his various uncles and Auntie ‘Bine, okay.)

(They go on the best Adventures.)

(But retrieving one of Kallus’s deep-cover agents whose cover was blown like a week ago at most is maaaaaaybe not the best Adventure for a three-year-old.)

Fortunately, Zeb isn’t hard to wake and grasps the situation quickly. The two of them head for the Phantom--

And find Sabine sitting there waiting for them, spinning idly in the pilot’s chair.

“...Sabine--” Zeb starts.

“Whatever it is that’s got you two running around frantically when we’re supposed to be lying low,” she says, “I wanna help. You might need backup.”

On the one hand, Kallus is pretty sure they won’t. And his prior concerns about spooking Vector if he comes in with a team still apply.

On the other hand, Sabine is one of the best people to have beside them in a crisis, if things do go all to hell. She’s creative and generally carrying an array of weapons that defies the very laws of physics.

Besides, he doesn’t have time to argue with her.

“Fine,” he says. “But you follow my lead--both of you. Neither of you has been on an extraction like this before, and this is what I do. All right?”

“All right,” Sabine says. “Who is it we’re extracting, exactly?”

“A spy, working under the code name Vector,” he says. “She’s been feeding us intel for close to three years now. Her cover was compromised, and she had to run.”

Sabine nods. “Got it,” she says.

“And, if I’m right,” he says--because if he is, Sabine will have to know before they get there, “she’s the Emperor’s daughter.”

“...all right, then,” Sabine manages, after a moment of stunned silence. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

They detach, and the Ghost disappears behind them back into hyperspace as Kallus sets a course for Ixaly.

And now, since I’m sure y’all are wondering the same thing Kallus is--i.e., how did she get caught/how did she escape--let’s backtrack and leave Kallus’s POV for another brief digression--

It all comes down to a man named Vedric Greer.

Vedric Greer is a Royal Guard. He’s been in that elite unit for over fifteen years at this point, selected more or less straight out of the Academy.

He’s been the head of Lavinia’s detail since she was twelve.

(Before that, he had a variety of assignments; he never got stuck with Vader, for which he is profoundly grateful, but he guarded a few valuable objects/locations, and he was on Tarkin’s detail for a couple of years.)

See, here’s the thing about Royal Guards. They’re put through a lot of conditioning, both physically and mentally, to become living weapons who are absolutely loyal.

And he is. Vedric Greer is an absolutely loyal man.

The thing is, to be a Royal Guard assigned to any living being other than Palpatine himself--Vader, Tarkin, Mas Amedda, Lavinia, a few others--means to be equal parts bodyguard and prison guard. Such a Guard is at least partly there to protect his principal from external threats, of course, but if said principal steps out of line or he’s given certain orders, he becomes their jailer. Or executioner. Or worse.

When he’s assigned to someone like Tarkin, of course, that isn’t much of a problem.

But a lonely, precocious twelve-year-old kid like Lavinia? Who, whatever traits she may have inherited from her father, has them tempered by an actual conscience?

...yeah, it doesn’t take a whole lot for him to bond with her, just a little.

(Throw in the fact that he has a lover, an Imperial Archivist who survived Scarif by being transferred to Coruscant days before Tarkin blew it up...well. Maybe the cracks in his armor aren’t only to do with the little girl he’s been made responsible for.)

So. Vedric Greer is a Royal Guard, and that means he is a living weapon, and absolutely loyal.

But over the past seven years--and especially the last three--maybe, just maybe, that loyalty has started to shift.

(He doesn’t even realize it, at first; and when he does notice the traces of affection, of tangential loyalty in himself...well, he reasons that Lavinia is all but an extension of her father’s will, anyway. Right? And if he conveniently fails to see certain signs...)

(Reynard, his lover, knows way before Vedric does where this is going, of course.)

And then, one morning, his orders change, and all those little things come crashing down.

(It was such a simple thing that screwed her over; Palpatine seeds bait among his minions constantly, little nuggets of information so that, if there is a high-placed leak, he can track it back to its source right away. Standard counter-intelligence, really; and everyone, everyone, is under suspicion. Everyone is tested.)

(Lavinia is normally very good at spotting this sort of thing--she has a natural aptitude for espionage, she was trained by the best, and she puts just as much effort into surviving her father and completing her mission as he did into taking over the galaxy. How else would she have lasted nineteen years as her father’s daughter--let alone three as a deep-cover Rebel spy?)

(But this time--this time she missed it. And now he knows.)

And Vedric Greer has a choice to make.

It’s surprising, in the end, how simple it is.

“My lady,” he informs her, “you are undone.”

He helps her cut out the tracking device implanted inside her ribcage (which is also fitted with a killswitch, of course, in case she ever tried to slip her leash); she asks him to come with her; he refuses.

(He is not a Rebel. He is not disloyal.)

(What he is, is her protector. What he is, is--hers.)

“I’m so sorry,” she says.

“So am I,” he says, and, “Go. I’ll buy you as much time as I can.”

“Goodbye,” she says, and disappears.

He sends a brief message to Reynard--hoping he’ll know what it means (he will; he always knew this might happen), and prepares himself to meet his death.

(Or, at least, that’s what he believes is going to happen.)

(...look, as I said before, this is Self-Indulgent BS(tm). Like I’m really gonna let Greer die. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have no earthly idea how he survives but he does. Because this is my self-indulgent BS, dammit.)

Okay. Back to Ixaly, and the actual rescue/extraction mission.

(…by which I also mean forward, since it’s like a week later.)

Our Heroes reach Central City about an hour ahead of schedule. After a brief discussion, Sabine disappears into the district to be on-hand for immediate help, if needed; Zeb, who doesn’t blend in as well, will stay with the Phantom; Kallus of course goes to the cantina to find his contact.

He heads there more or less directly, taking in as much detail of the city and the specific neighborhood as he can.

He’s been here before, but it’s been several years; there is a garrison in place, but the occupation seems comparatively light.

Which means there’s a not-unreasonable chance that this will go smoothly.

(Of course, as soon as he thinks that, he starts coming up with all the potential problems that could still happen. For one thing, he or Vector or Sabine might be recognized…)

Security on the cantina itself; mostly local talent, just as it was on his last visit. This is a fairly middle-of-the-road place; just dishonest enough that he and Vector should blend, not so dishonest that they’re likely to get caught in the middle of any…unpleasantness. Part of why he picked this place. That, the fact that it isn’t particularly difficult to find, and is fairly close to his ideal landing site.

(Not the official port, naturally; while Kallus doesn’t doubt that they could bluff their way through, he’d rather not try it on such short notice. They’d landed the Phantom on the city outskirts, about fifteen minutes away by foot.)

In other words, things are about as well-situated as they could be, under the circumstances. He has three separate exit routes at least tentatively mapped out, of varying efficiency and difficulty.

(And, if it came down to it, Sabine or Zeb could create one for him, of course, but he’d prefer to avoid that if at all possible.)

(In any case, best to have backup plans; he’ll pick the best route of the three once he has a better idea of what Vector’s capable of at the moment.)

(He’s almost certain she’s hurt, and he doesn’t know how badly, and she’ll never actually tell him, so that’s the best he can do.)

Inside, the cantina is fairly crowded--which is a mixed blessing; on the one hand, more cover for their activities/conversation, but on the other, more people to see them.

It’s a varied crowd; mostly local shift workers, a few semi-legitimate traders and mid-level bounty hunters. Most importantly, though, there are no troopers that he can identify, even off-duty. Excellent.

He gets a drink (to blend in, primarily) and finds a table in the corner where he can keep an eye on the other patrons and watch the door without being obvious about it.

He’s not kept waiting long.

She blends in pretty well--she’s managed to dress herself in a slightly-outdated local fashion, one that helpfully comes with a cowl that doesn’t quite hide her face, but does enough to keep her mostly anonymous from a distance and make dodging any security cameras easier.

(A few other women in the cantina are dressed similarly; not many, but enough that she doesn’t really stand out.)

She doesn’t head straight for him. She weaves through the crowd for a minute, hesitates by the bar as if she’s considering something, orders a drink. Her attention drifts over the crowd; she doesn’t linger on him, but her hand twitches a little.

(Ah. She spotted him, then. Good.)

(He isn’t really surprised that she figured out which Fulcrum she was working with. And it does make things simpler--there are a few signals he could have tried, but there wasn’t time, when she called, to pick one of them and be sure.)

(An advantage, if a counter-intuitive one, to using the legacy code name with her, he supposes.)

She starts moving again; doing everything right--wandering as if she’s looking for a seat, gradually making her way to a small empty table next to his.

(The whole thing takes probably less than two minutes. It feels longer. Then again, it always does--this isn’t the first time he’s met a contact like this, and that never changes. Doesn’t matter whether he’s the first or second to arrive.)

He taps out a quick signal on his commlink--contact made, everything’s on track so far--and waits.

“I have a data file for you,” she says softly. “Several, in fact.”

He smiles faintly into his drink. “Well done.”

The way the tables are laid out, they’re sitting next to one another, both with their backs against the wall. It’s a simple matter for her to slide the two drives over to him, and just as easy for him to make them disappear.

(Leaving together discreetly will be a little harder, but he’s been doing this for quite a while. They’ll manage.)

“I have transport off-planet,” he tells her. “We should wait a few minutes, not get up right away, but it’s best if we leave sooner rather than later.”

She shakes her head. “I'm not coming with you.”

(He wishes he could say he was surprised.)

He doesn’t turn to look at her, as much as he wants to. “If you’re concerned about reprisals…”

“I’m not,” she says. “Not really. It’s just…not a good idea.”

...and in the interests of “good Lord this thing is probably pushing 10k and it’s not even the full fic it’s an outline,” I’m going to skip the rest of this conversation. Suffice to say, he’s right and she’s wrong, though she takes some convincing, but they leave the cantina together like fifteen minutes later. Also, he confirms that his theory as to her identity was correct somewhere in here.

Anyway, like I said, he talks her down, and she agrees to leave with him.

Once out of the cantina, he can get a better look at her, assess how badly she’s hurt.

(He knows she is for certain now; she’s breathing carefully, shallowly, and a little too fast--but he could only see her hands and the vague shadow of her cowl before.)

“Are you all right?” he asks; even though the answer is obvious; she’s favoring her left side and very pale.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she says.

A characteristic non-answer, but a step above denial. He supposes.

“All right,” he says. “Let me know if you need help.”

(There’s not much else he can do here and now, anyway; they have some supplies back on the Ghost, and she can get proper medical attention once they rendezvous with the fleet.)

“I will,” she says, which is something at least.

They make it two blocks before they run into a squad of stormtroopers.

It’s a routine patrol; and, even with a wounded asset  to escort, it wouldn’t have been a problem under most circumstances. He could avoid the confrontation, or talk his way past.

But the squad sergeant stiffens in a particular way, staring at him.

“Karabast,” he mutters.

(You’d think, after all these years, this would stop happening so often. But, no, it’s still even odds that, out in the field, someone will recognize him.)

Lavinia takes half a step back. “I can--”

“They’re not here for you,” he tells her, then drags her behind cover a split second before the troopers start firing.

Then takes a minute to take stock.

This is...not an ideal position for a standoff. And while they might be able to fight their way through...

Best plan is to stay put, hold them off as long as they can, and call in Zeb and Sabine for backup.

Good thing I listened to Kanan, he thinks.

He takes out his sidearm, then pulls his holdout pistol from his boot and offers it to Lavinia.

But she shakes her head. “Father kept my focus narrow. I’d do more harm than good.”

“...right.”

Even less ideal. But it’s all right. He can handle this.

He takes his comm, switches it to the voice setting.

“Specter Four, this is Fulcrum. We’re going to need a slightly more dramatic exit than I planned for.”

“Copy that, Fulcrum,” Zeb says. “Could use an opening, Specter Five.”

“And to think you boys wanted to leave me behind,” Sabine says.

“Yes, yes, can we save the ‘I-told-you-sos’ until after we’re clear?” Kallus says, firing off a handful of shots to keep the squad at bay.

“She does have a point, babe.”

“Not on open comms, dear, how many times...”

(Honestly, the little bit of flirting is at this point half an inside joke, after the one time they legitimately forgot to switch channels, and half a way to quickly gauge how serious the situation actually is.)

(Plus, it’s fun. They like flirting.)

“Thirty seconds,” Sabine cuts in.

“Right,” Zeb says. “I’m headed to your position. ETA two minutes.”

“Copy. Fulcrum out.”

Two minutes, under these conditions, is a long, long time.

But, right on cue, thirty seconds later, there is a magnificent explosion, which gives them some breathing room, and then Sabine slides down the wall to land next to him.

“Not my best work,” she says critically, watching the cloud on the horizon, “but it’ll clear a path. Hi,” she adds, for Lavinia’s benefit.

“Hi,” she says, softly.

“...she doesn’t have a blaster,” Sabine says, turning almost accusingly to Kallus.

“Because I’ve never had one before,” Lavinia answers for him. “And this really doesn’t seem the time or place to learn.”

“Well, we’ll fix that later,” Sabine says.

“All right,” Lavinia says, then ducks down as Sabine positions herself better to start shooting back.

The next ninety seconds go much quicker, and then comes the welcome sound of the Phantom’s engines on approach.

It’ll have to be a quick exit, and for a split second, Kallus wonders about getting Lavinia up the ramp fast enough without Zeb actually landing--

But then he sees that Sabine has her jetpack.

(He has never been so pleased to see it in his life.)

“Take her,” he says, once the shuttle is in sight. “I’ll cover you.”

Sabine catches his drift right away, and nods. “Hold on,” she tells Lavinia, who blinks, but does.

And then they’re off.

Kallus just keeps firing at the troopers until, based on the noise it’s making, he judges that the Phantom is close enough that he can make the jump.

He’s--almost right.

He comes within half an inch of missing, then Lavinia’s hands shoot out and grab one of his wrists; Sabine grabs the other and the girls haul him on board.

“We’re good, Zeb, go!” Sabine shouts, while Lavinia drags Kallus the rest of the way in and slams the hatch shut.

We did it.

He takes a minute to catch his breath--he knows it isn’t really over; there’s still a great deal of work to do once they get back to the Ghost and then to the fleet proper.

But for now--they’re all alive, they’re all safe, they’re all at least as intact as they were when they got to Ixaly; the extraction was successful.

Kallus decides to let the rest of the problems wait, and take the win.

He picks himself up and heads to the cockpit, to give Zeb a quick hug and send word to Kanan and the others.

For all the drama and the worry when it started, today turned out to be a very good day.

And I think that’s a good stopping point, don’t you? There is definitely more, featuring (in no particular order) the worlds most #Awkward Road Trip; Kanan and Lavinia meeting; Kanan and Luke finally meeting; Zeb and Kallus adopting a kid or three; Lando; Jacen being precious; and so much more.

But, uh, see all my notes above about “how long is this thing now?!”

(And, again this isn’t even fulltext.)

(This is just the outline.)

...so, uh, yeah, if you made it this far, thank you and I hope you enjoyed my Self-Indulgent BS(tm). <333333333