#'the blood of that race of people is the reason why the world is wrong' yeah...

[randomnameless]

#2 - also yeah again in game they are actual superpowers that unlock the abilty to use powerful weapons#they are actual superpowers even as a metaphor you can't avoid that in the game world analysis#fire emblem#(also tragic because the goddess did in a way forsaken the world bc people abused crests#she fucking died bc people wanted More Power)#what is described is what happened - in a metaphorical way

Preach

crests are not an analogous real world privilege. they're a goddamn superpower. you can not legislate people into not wanting them. this is why rhea writes in the book of seiros that people abusing crests is the reason why sothis has forsaken humanity. lmfao.

humans just suck!

[sxpphotales]

icl i’m literally on the edge of my seat waiting for hyunju so here’s some hyunju x reader stuff that i have been YEARNING for since the start of season 2. oh my god why does nobody WANT this woman like ?? I DONT CARE IF SHE’S TRANS SHE IS DROP DEAD MY TYPE

imagine hyunju x gn!reader. um expect angst AND fluff lowk lowk … tw for um light gore (?), blood, death, stabbing, etc.

hyunju who is lowkey much more aloof than to her close loved ones. she doesn’t approach anyone outright first unless she needs to. and she’s been rejected by pretty much everywhere because of her gender.

hyunju who meets you right after the six legged race. you barely managed to survive and is just begging to go home at this point and hyunju is just standing right beside you. you stare up at her and lightly nudge her arm. you flash a smile and hyunju is just staring while you introduce yourself. she nods with a nervous laugh and introduces herself as well. before the next game can begin, you two just keep on talking to yourselves with the rest of the group. the entire time she’s just staring at you.

hyunju who knows you’re just a momentary stranger and after squid game is over, you two would never meet each other, but every time she sees you smile and laugh, she wants to stay with you. with you and the group, she feels genuinely accepted.

hyunju who gets quite awkward whenever people discuss about her gender, but you don’t even mention it. you occasionally drop compliments like “you’re looking good. how do you maintain allat after these games?” and she just chuckles, patting your shoulder.

imagine hyunju with a shorter s/o oh my god bro. she would literally cherish you. she’s out here staring at you while you’re chatting with someone else and young mi is on the side whispering “who are you staring at?” hyunju just clears her throat and says no one.

hyunju who lowk freaks out in mingle because she actually might lose you. she doesn’t want to lose anyone else. she just wants to survive.

hyunju who barely makes it with you in a two-person scenario one time. you both are gasping for breaths and while hyunju is there shook, you just smile at her and say “we made it, partner” while holding up a hand for a high five. your faint optimism in this situation is what gets her going. it’s the reason why she’s alive.

hyunju who gets separated with you for one of the rounds and is internally praying. bonus if it’s the round where she loses young mi. she’s crying out to young mi and trying desperately to open the door, because she’s staring to think that the same thing might happen to you too. her eyes are a haze from the loss and she sees you with another group, shakily sighing and running up to her with a smile of relief that instantly fades once you realize what happened. you don’t comfort her closely as the next round almost immediately starts. you just hug her from the side and whisper “it’s almost over.”

hyunju who moves on outwardly but is rotting inside and you being the only one to actually notice it. you don’t pry it open, but it’s rather obvious. you ask her how she’s doing, purposefully sit around her more, and try to talk to her. but then things go horribly wrong.

lights go out and everything is in shambles. people are dying and you, being the great ‘friend’ you are, couldn’t see hyunju and stepped out momentarily, calling out to her. but before you could spot her, you were already stabbed right in the neck. blood lightly tricks down into your throat and it’s the last thing you remember before the world blacks out.

hyunju who finds your corpse by the end of it and she doesn’t speak at all. she’s entirely silent and she just stares. your corpse is being hauled out and she subconsciously steps forward with her outreached hand but geum ja (the grandma) stops her promptly and sighs.

hyunju who doesn’t utter another word after that. she doesn’t know what to think. she lost two of the people she considered family in this entire game. it was too short of a time. she wonders what she could’ve done. she should’ve just voted to leave. it was because of her that everyone else died.

season 3 is coming out soon and and i might write more but lowk angsty hyunju x reader heh …

[yunieful]

distant touch

self-loathing!reader finally makes a reappearance. may become known as nonhuman!reader or something. i'm working on it.

tags: autistic reader, self-loathing, mentions of death (no one dies it's just the concept), you sure aren't really human, sylus is featured this time yay, i'm so sorry but your backstory will get worse, there's some foreshadowing here already, mc/reader if u squint, named mc, you are once again confused how friendship works, that trope where no one can touch you because blank, your evol matches a certain LI, idk if it means anything yet, idk if anything means anything tbh word count: 4.5k

a/n: it sure is a fucking mess and wasn't beta read but you better like it- /s

Everyone finding you wrong leads to one thing kids are truly well-known for.

Bullying.

Sometimes you cried, even screamed in their faces once that you didn’t deserve the treatment. That never stopped it completely, but you spooked them that day. It’s one of the few moments you’re proud of in your dark life.

Anything considered different is usually wrong, and that includes things like any other race or species that isn’t human.

You’re not too sure what you are, but you’ve known since you were young to hide and pretend you’re human.

The ones that bullied you certainly tested your patience. You were tempted to reveal your true form, to make them finally back off and hide in terror. However, you certainly didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention. Maybe someone would take you away and experiment on you.

Just the thought of that makes you sneer in disgust.

You only wanted to be left alone.

Until now, apparently.

Shut. Up!

But out of so many reasons for it not being a good idea, there is one that will always remind you why this must be your life. To hate, to be feared, to be hated, to be alone.

Sometimes civilians would give hunters things as thanks for saving them. Said hunters encouraged citizens to not do that. It’s not like they’re the actual law of this world, but it’s just a sense of professionalism to not accept extravagant gifts in case it’s really just some bribe or something.

Yet nothing can be said when it comes to flowers.

Your blood thins and ices over as you stop some ways from your desk.

There, in its loud, petaled beauty, is a bouquet of flowers.

“What the fuck,” you whisper harshly. Your steps are fast and quick, eyes darting back and forth in suspicion before fumbling for the card next to said bouquet.

Turns out it had been a thank you from someone you and Melody had saved the other day. You both just happened to be grocery shopping when Wanderers attacked. No big deal.

Except, these flowers mean more than anyone could know.

Your gloved hands tremble when inching towards some daisies that are part of the arrangement.

“Aw, how sweet. Who are those from?”

Immediately, you bring your hand back, and you look to find Tara. Someone who has never bothered interacting with you until Melody started to.

The smile on her face is so bright, almost too bright. You have to look away and focus hard on something else.

“Oh, just some civilian Melody and I saved a couple of days ago.”

You don’t continue talking, and thankfully Tara takes it as the signal to leave. You just can’t be bothered sometimes to tell people something to end the conversation and claim it’s done on your end. You’d rather they figure it out and leave on their own.

Once no one is looking, you dare to reach forward again, a trembling finger inching closer and closer.

When it touches the daisy, the petals curl and darken, with the stem curving down.

Your teeth clench together behind a closed mouth. The hand belonging to the finger reaching out to the daisy curls tightly, shaking.

You grab the bouquet and dump it in the trash, along with the hopes you dare contain almost every time you do something like this.

They always wilt. They always die.

It’s the same tale for every living thing that touches you, clothed or not.

Death reaches them all.

And death has been your only companion for all these years.

And, soon, it will continue to be your only companion.

It’s only a matter of time.

Whatever god (or gods) were looking down at you, somehow—among the misery—they gave you the slightest bit of protection through your Evol.

If this could be considered your Evol…if this could be even considered “protection.”

Black and purple energy formed as thorns rose, bringing someone unimaginable pain. Enough to have someone back off and look at you as if you’re the one that did that to them.

You can’t always control them, from what you’ve discovered. They act of their own accord. Perhaps out of instinct. Whether it’s someone trying to harm you and you don’t have time to use your weapons against them, or they touch you when you don’t expect it or want it or even trying to save their life. They don’t always work—considering some people have just died still—but they keep you untouchable for the most part.

Growing up, your parents refused to let anyone know except teachers and principals. It’d be up to you at university on whether to tell your professors or not. The reasoning had been you’d have a panic attack if anyone touched you or got too close without your permission.

But you and your parents knew better.

Foster parents, specifically, but they were the only two people throughout your life that you didn’t hate (after a time). They adopted you eventually despite knowing the risks, and that’s all you needed to know that, for once, somewhere—you were wanted.

Everywhere else does not have that luxury. The opposite, really.

Always best to assume every place is not welcoming and never to get comfortable.

Not to mention every person would immediately be scared of you and not want to risk their lives.

Melody and Xavier have not found out so far, but it’s inevitable.

Which is why wanting to be in their company is so fucking stupid.

They always leave when they find out. Always.

You’re more trouble than you’re worth. There is absolutely nothing interesting about you to keep people around. You have no special qualities. There is nothing notable. Nothing that makes people go “I want that one to be my friend!” Add this entirely fucked up thing about you that you’d rather keep hidden than noted at any point eventually?

The only company you keep are darkness and shadows, besides death. And even then, they can only provide so much.

It’s always made you wonder if you were destined to be alone.

The N109 Zone is familiar with people like you.

They’re known to have no laws, filled with strife and conflict. Death follows somewhere in some corner. Envy follows another, with how much people want Protocores and the deals they can make with them. Everyone killing and hurting each other just for some fucking rock, when you think about it.

And yet, Melody wanted to come here all for one particular Protocore that people would drool at the mouth for. Just become completely and utterly feral, clawing over each other to the top.

Aether cores.

Well, at least she has you, for however long that will last.

Sometimes the N109 Zone is a safe haven for those not human. At least, for your kind anyway. As far as you know, the people rarely bother you, and they certainly never ask questions. The rumors of your kind granting death with just one look makes it scary enough.

Again, people will always be afraid of what’s different, wrong, not normal.

Usually you appear there out of your human disguise, to keep your hunter identity a secret. However, Melody had no idea why you were so familiar with the N109 Zone.

She didn’t know about your other job. (But is it really a job if a lot of times you don’t accept pay except from maybe one or two clients? And even then they force you to take the damn money?)

But she will have to know, because this is the price you pay for the familiarity of the word Onychinus.

They’re not just some dangerous organization that hunters need to be wary of.

“Huh, so this is what our little Zero is up to in their free time.”

He’s lucky to be able to say that while Melody is passed out from—whatever just happened.

You purse your lips and narrow your eyes at familiar, bright red orbs.

“Long time no see, Sylus.”

Zero.

Technically the number before one, but not everyone learns about it as a kid.

It’s nothing. Practically in the shape of an endless void, a blackhole leading to oblivion.

It felt like the perfect alias for the work you do around here.

“Interesting that she wasn’t dead.”

You scoff, human skin left behind for the creature you are, but you still purposely stick to any shadows you can find within the confines of this massive mansion.

“I don’t kill everyone I meet.” You cross your arms, leaning against the wall. “What’s this talk of ‘kindred spirits’?”

Sylus tilts his head in response, raising a brow. “Why does it matter to you? She a friend?”

You swallow thickly. “Yes and no.”

He lets out a laugh behind closed lips. “You could have left her to fend for herself. You didn’t have to come with her. So, you care about her.”

There is no denying it, not really. If you try to, he may make you look at his eye, and besides not wanting to admit your deepest desires—you also just don’t want to make actual eye contact. It’s horrifying.

“And she’s not just some Aether Core asset to you,” you remark. “Clearly we both have things we don’t want to admit. So, fuck off.” The words aren’t really aggressive. Just a clear cut warning to tell Sylus to not try and dig deeper into this, and it wouldn’t be the first time either.

Maybe someone else would be afraid to tell the leader of Onychinus to fuck off or shut up, but there are worst things to fear than some criminal lord being pissed at you.

The edge of Sylus’s lip twitches, and you swear for a moment you catch contempt, but it’s gone in a blink. Either way, you don’t question it, but you know you hit a nerve. “I’ll be here for the time being until whatever you need done with her gets done.” After a beat, you sneer, “But if you harm her, I don’t care if I can’t kill you. I can make you wish you were dead.”

He doesn’t look the least bit bothered or scared by those words. But you know he’s acknowledged them, because he nods to you. “Maybe I’ll have work for you soon.”

You scoff. “Don’t force me to accept your payment again.”

He smirks.

You roll your eyes dramatically. “Of course,” you say dryly, “I forgot who I was talking to.”

He’s trying to resonate with her.

And it’s not working in the slightest.

You wonder why. You’ve seen Sylus’ power in action. Practically unstoppable. He literally made a man explode in front of Melody when they met each other again.

Why does he need to resonate with her?

Holding the touch of death sometimes means you can sense when someone’s life wanes. Thankfully, you haven’t sensed anything of the sort in those three days (not what feels like the warmth of the sun and the beginnings of spring). Sometimes you are fulfilling other tasks made by the people of the N109 Zone that fit in your job description. Other times, you’re destroying the Wanderers that are slinking about, or something else that lingers in the shadows that little people can see. The ones that thrive since there’s no daytime here.

“Melody will expect me to be somewhere here. But I—”

Sylus waved you off, despite the conflicting emotions you feel. “I’ll just tell her I’m keeping you somewhere.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What will that cost me?”

“Nothing.”

That answer was so easy, no trouble at all, and it just made you even more suspicious.

Sensing your suspicion, he sighs. “It’s none of my business whether she knows about this or not.” He gestures to you, likely referencing your true form. “But maybe you should tell her sooner than later.”

The thought filled you with sickening, deep dread. Yet you only nodded solemnly in reality.

“I know.”

It wouldn’t be difficult to tell her, right? There’s plenty of things that aren’t “normal,” especially after the Chronorift Catastrophe.

But you’ve been wrong about people before. That’s how you got here. Making so many mistakes in what you said, the “friends” you trusted, and overall poor judge of character.

Something deep, deep down in you, though, dared to say that Melody could be trusted. You two hadn’t been friends (such a scary word) for long, but she is the one who approached you. The way the both of you functioned as hunting partners, practically in sync, made you eager to work with her. How she’d always smile when seeing you, and it never seemed fake or forced. Moments where her mouth would open and close, something familiar yet unfamiliar spotted in her eyes, and then she’d give a smile that could light the sun before waving goodbye.

And you’d miss her.

That’s why the other side of you is nothing but a tight ball of dread at the thought of her hating you. Just like all the others. Looking at you with disgust, claiming you’re nothing—that you’re wrong, a curse—misfortune following you wherever you go.

But it’s best to get it out of the way soon, so that things can go back to the way they were at the Hunters Association. With absolutely no one approaching you or bothering you, and leaving you alone.

Alone.

You used Kieran and Luke to send any messages you could. Just anything to say that Sylus wasn’t treating you badly at all. He literally can’t even touch me. There’s always his Evol, but he’s never bothered with you. Some part of you wondered if the jobs you took in the N109 Zone earned his respect, as well as the very few times you’ve worked with him personally.

“You’re okay!”

You immediately slide back when Melody tries to hug you, but you don’t hesitate to examine her where possible to make sure she wasn’t harmed at all. She frowns, but she lets her arms fall while you shrug.

“I don’t like hugs. You know that.”

Thank fuck I changed back to this before she saw me.

Something would’ve maybe poked her or bumped into her, and you really didn’t want to tell her the truth. You just weren’t ready yet.

She clicks her tongue. “I know. But I was really hoping for once you’d let me on this special occasion!” Her gaze softens. “I thought Sylus was doing awful things to you, before those two gave me your message.”

You raise a brow. “When did they do that?”

“Just before I threatened them to let me out.”

You blink a few times, before nodding slowly. “You could have left whenever, from that room.”

She gives that signature roll of her eyes and exasperated look before saying, “Well, I didn’t know!” Her eyes narrow at you. “Actually, how are you so…okay with this?”

“Caw-caw!”

Oh, you can tell from that exact tone Mephisto is laughing at you.

You glare at the bird out of the corner of your eye, while Melody walks over to it. “Whoa, what’s this?” Before continuing, she points a finger at you and frowns. “I still want an answer.”

“I’ve been through worse.”

Really, that’s your reasoning?

“Worse?” It sounds like Melody can’t comprehend that’s the answer you’re going with either.

“Has he actually harmed you?” You’re sure she hasn’t been, but it’s a good time to ask just to be sure.

She takes a moment to consider this, before shaking her head. “No. In fact, I—I was the one to harm him.”

Oh.

That explains the briefest of moments you felt someone’s life wane that didn’t seem like Melody’s. Something else that was dark but calm, fierce but also gentle, covered in red and black all over.

That’s the best you could describe it. It’s hard to explain, but you can sense people’s…auras, but you know that’s something your people can do too. It’s not an Evol you have.

“Dare I ask exactly what happened?”

Melody’s answer is quick and fast before you can even consider the possibility of thinking no, I don’t want to know what happened actually. “I shot him straight in the heart with a gun.”

You blink slowly. “I…see.”

“And then he just…healed. Like nothing happened.”

You turn slowly to look at Mephisto, who you swear is mirroring your gaze. The kind where you both aren’t surprised at all, which also means you have no idea how to react to this.

“Well,” you come up with lamely, “you’re a good shot.”

Even she’s pouting and waving you off. “That’s all you have to say? Not, ‘He can do that?’ Or like, ‘Oh my god, how could you do that to him?’ Not—” she pauses, and you dare to glance in her general direction to unfortunately spot something like realization in her face.

“Wait.”

Uh oh.

“You know Sylus, don’t you?”

Shit.

“That’s why you were able to get me into the N109 Zone so easily!” Melody gasps loudly and dramatically before whispering as if she’s discovered a conspiracy, “You two are in cahoots.”

You don’t know if it’s better she knows about this than what you do here, what you really are, and why things like hugs are such a strong dislike to you.

You kind of want to dissipate into nothingness, throw yourself into the void, when you spot the strange Cheshire grin growing on Melody’s face.

“Is that why you’re so secretive and keep to yourself? Because you’re working for a crime lord?”

How and why is she connecting these dots so fast?

“Oh my god, does he make you kill people?”

If you were drinking anything, you’d have given the ugliest snort before choking on it.

“How can you work with someone like that?”

You have to stop her before she starts badgering you with more questions. “Melody, let’s just say I’ve done him some favors. He considers me useful.” At least, you hope so, given he hasn’t tried to kill you himself.

Melody’s brows furrow. “And somehow the Hunters Association knows nothing about this?”

“Whatever they know won’t hurt them.” As her eyes widen, you sigh and shake your head. “I am always a hunter first and foremost, Melody. Everything else is just…extra content.” You say the last two words as a very quiet mutter.

She heard you, though, given how she snorts.

“Alright, I trust you.” Why? “Now let’s get out of here. We’ll find another way to track down that Aether Core.”

Now it’s your turn to say, “Wait.”

She stops before even taking a step away from you.

“I know Sylus seems like the worst option right now, but he’s not.” And what is your reasoning? That he’s having a bad day? You don’t even know why he’s been trying to resonate with Melody, treating her roughly (which you unfortunately only discovered a little while ago, so you couldn’t chew out Sylus).

All you know is that she seems important. That Sylus and Melody are “kindred spirits.”

Well, that and she doesn’t seem to remember anything.

Remember what?

“You sound so sure,” Melody’s voice brings you out of your thoughts. “Alright,” she sounds reluctant, but also soft, “what’s your reasoning?”

That has you blinking dumbly. “You’re…willing to listen to me?”

You’re far too used to people disregarding what you say. To never take you seriously. To not even consider you’re telling the truth about something. They just ignore you.

Yet Melody is keeping her attention fully on you that you really have to look away, no pretend eye-contact can save you right now.

“Of course.” Just like Sylus, her answer to something like that is quick and swift, not giving it a second thought. “You’re my partner.” She stumbles, glancing quickly back and forth before looking back to you. “My friend.”

You don’t take note of how, in a rare moment, she’s a little flustered. You’re far too stunned someone’s giving you their full attention and willing to listen to you and willing to believe you—

You shake your head and force yourself to get a grip.

“My reasoning is that he’s the leader of Onychinus. No one messes with him. Everyone’s afraid of him, and if they aren’t—they’ll learn to be. You’ve seen his Evol in action. He’s unstoppable.” Melody frowns, but she’s nodding slowly to what you’re saying. “So what if he’s a criminal? Things aren’t always that simple.”

“Maybe they are,” Melody whispers to you, her expression grave. “I think—I think he’s the one who killed my family.”

Is that why there’d be rare moments you’d catch Sylus irritated, running a hand over his face, brows furrowed tight? Was she giving him a hard time past the judgment of him being the big bad leader of Onychinus?

“Think about it, Melody, what would be his motive?” She stares at you in confusion. “If you’re thinking it’s for your Aether Core, I doubt he had that information before that night. You told me you barely found out not too long ago yourself. Besides,” your voice becomes low, sharp, dangerous, “he wouldn’t set up a trap and run off. He’d rather see to it himself.”

Something in her eyes shifts when she’s looking at you, you realize. You dare to look, dare to be known and perceived, and you find—

You’re not entirely sure. Awe, perhaps? As to why, you haven’t a clue. You were just telling your fellow hunter what you thought. Your honest opinion of Sylus.

“It’s more likely someone set him up to take the fall,” you whisper. Yet it feels like it echoes in these long halls somehow.

Melody blinks, and you focus on her forehead instead, so you’d stop trying to search in her eyes. “How did you meet Sylus?”

Your mind darkens as you remember how you two first met. Desperation led you to him, revenge requested his help, and caution set the price. In the end, death found you again, and you were left with a void and endless tears. Sylus peered into that void, unblinking, red eyes glittering, and somehow he knew. The understanding in his eyes was undoubtedly clear. He knew why you did what you did, and an unspeakable agreement forged between shadows and crimson.

Such an innocent question for her to ask, but the answer is dark and wounded. A wound that feels like it still refuses to close, and you’ve tried hard to not let it fester still, after all this time.

“I asked him for a favor,” you settle on. Your throat has dried, so your voice is hoarse. You quickly clear said throat and brush off Melody’s concerned gaze. “He provided. And people need help here, especially with Wanderers.” More like if something else happens, something that shouldn’t rise from the shadows.

But some do request your specific touch, in a literal sense. You decide how it’s done, though, sometimes ignoring the client's request of “the touch of death.”

Sylus has only asked this of you once or twice. Any other times he finds it “a bother to do it himself,” he’ll ask you to do the killing any way you like.

You rarely go to his place, though, and you two haven’t been in contact with one another recently. Your boundaries were strict anyway. He wasn’t allowed to contact you through your phone. You requested Mephisto send messages, keep it old fashioned. And that’s if he really needed you.

He’s never been considered a friend to you. Just a contact you had for the N109 Zone. The entire reason you were able to get Melody here in the first place. (Didn’t stop others from hijacking the plan, but Sylus found them eventually.)

But with how Melody has been treating you, you dare to wonder—

Is he a friend? An acquaintance? A companion?

Anytime you come back into contact with him, you don’t feel immediate disgust or some itch to get away as soon as possible. Ever since that favor, you see that he understands you. You’re not sure how, as he seems to be the type who is like, “You must be at relationship number 5 to unlock my backstory.” But he has told you, at least once, that he understands what it’s like for others to consider you a monster with just one look.

No pity, like you would have expected. Never looked down on you, never considered you lesser. This monster he met was his equal and would stay so.

“Caw-caw!”

You glance over at Mephisto, raising a brow. “He wants to see the both of us?” You figured that Sylus would only want to see Melody.

She seems just as surprised. “Wait, did he know I was trying to escape?”

You snort. “You weren’t going to make it out the door even if I hadn’t stopped you.”

“I could’ve!”

That has you laugh, just the littlest bit. “Not without me,” you dared to joke.

“Well, that’s true.”

You stiffen entirely, almost biting hard on the inside of your cheek. What?

This woman may be the death of you, and that means something to someone is so intimate with death.

“What?” Melody has no idea why you’re so gobsmacked. “It is true! I wasn’t going to leave without you. We’re in this together, right?”

Slowly, you nod, hearing the squeak of your gloves from how tightly you're clenching your hands into fists. “Right.”

And, even in a place like this, her smile shines. Towards you.

Are you truly deserving of such warmth?

Despite what she’s gone through, she still has a smile, just for you.

So earnest, so strange.

Mephisto takes it as a sign to start flying off, while you take the lead to find Sylus, with Melody walking next to you. Out of habit, you make sure the two of you aren’t close, but she sure likes to test you sometimes with the proximity.

“You really enjoy testing someone’s patience, huh?” you ask with a grumble.

Despite everything going on, she giggles softly next to you. “Yeah, of course! Your annoyed look is kinda cute.”

As if summoning it, you give her an irritated look, realize what you did, and scoff. “You’re a menace,” you seethe, but there’s the smallest of smiles tugging on the corners of your lips.

“Ha, Sylus is the real menace here.” That you couldn’t really argue with. You don’t know the full details, but if Melody shot him…he probably deserved that. Idiot.

You open the door, sending her a glance. “I’ll go in first.” Is it to protect Melody and sort of put a wall between her and Sylus? …No one could prove it.

At the end of all this, you and Sylus were going to need to have a conversation.

The kind where he didn’t get to be the one to see past the void. You needed permission to see past that pretty face and wade through the crimson.

You dared to hope you wouldn’t be involved in this, at least not that much involved.

Far too late for that now.

[quite-right-too]

Animal I Have Become

Dark!Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: The Doctor doesn't like seeing people harm what's his. (18+ only)

The Oncoming Storm.

The Time Lord Victorious.

The Destroyer of Worlds.

The Doctor had many names in many different languages that spread across the stars. Tales of the last of the Time Lords echoed through the galaxy — the man who had destroyed two entire races, including his own people, and stopped being merciful many years ago.

Nobody quite knew how old the Doctor was, or how far back the legends had been traced, but one thing was certain.

Everywhere you went, people were afraid of the Doctor.

The Doctor you knew was gentle and kind. He made you breakfast in the mornings and told you how much he loved you. His eyes were so full of adoration and joy when he was around you.

However, that didn’t mean he was always like that.

All you had done was stop for repairs. You had a task to complete; find the market stall and acquire a list of parts. The Doctor had already written a list and drew some pictures next to each part to make it easier for you to find.

The city you were in was disorienting. It had already gotten dark, making the directions you were given nearly useless. One wrong turn and you found yourself in an alley. As you went to turn around, a man approached you.

His skin was a dark, rich shade of blue. He looked human aside from that. And the small horns that stuck out of his forehead. ‘Like a devil,’ you thought.

“So,” the dark humanoid man standing in front you took a step forward, prompting you to take a step back. “What’s someone like you doing in a place like this?” The street lamp above you flickered unnervingly as you inched further and further away. Each step forward was met with a step back until you were cloaked in darkness, just outside of the small illuminated circle you were relying on for just a modicum of safety.

You felt your back hit the wall as you took another step backwards — it was a dead end.

You were trapped.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

Your heart began to race as a silver glint in the man’s hand caught your eye. The low light reflected off the knife that he held tightly.

Uncertainty makes you afraid. Fear makes you reckless. Just be confident in everything you do and above all else, just remember…

The Doctor’s words echoed through your head as you tightened your fists, preparing for whatever was going to come next. If you were going to die, you would not make it easy. You braced for the inevitable as your attacker surged forward.

I will always be there to save you.

The blue-skinned man was pulled backwards into the light and tossed to the ground. A sickening crack echoed through the dark alley followed by a groan and a cough.

Towering above him was the Doctor. Tall and powerful, long coat billowing around him from the speed he had run over. This was not the man you woke up next to that morning or made love to the night before.

This was the Oncoming Storm.

And he was pissed.

Even in the faint light, you could see that his eyes were impossibly dark. He stared down at the man on the ground with a sneer, his converse-clad foot pressing down on his throat. Below him, the stranger clawed at the Doctor’s leg.

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you right now,” the Doctor murmured coldly. “Why shouldn’t I spill your blood all over the pavement like the filth you are?”

Fear flashed in the alien’s eyes. “Please, I’m sorry,” he choked out breathlessly. “I didn’t know you- I would never have-” He was cut off as the Doctor put pressure on his throat, kneeling down to pick up the dropped knife.

The Time Lord twirled the blade in his hand. “Oh,” he cooed. “I’m sure you wouldn’t have.” Without warning, the Doctor quietly and subtly drove the knife into the man’s chest. “And you never will again.”

The thrashing subsided and the Doctor stood up, leaving the knife in the man's chest as thick red liquid began to form a pool underneath him. Wiping his hand haphazardly on his pant leg, he stared down at the body below him.

“Don’t touch what’s mine.”

Before you could even get a word out over what you had just witnessed, the Doctor had you pinned against the wall with a bruising kiss. “You heard me,” he growled. “You’re mine. All mine.” His hands gripped your hips with such force that you couldn’t move, even if you tried.

You gasped as he moved his mouth down your neck. “Fuck, Doctor!” That spurred him on further as he rutted against you, his hardening cock pressing against your lower abdomen.

Nimble fingers undid the button on your jeans, ripping them down your legs with your underwear. “You’re all fucking mine,” he growled as he unbuttoned his own trousers and shoved them down to his thighs, pants following. 

You were desperate for more. Hard and fast and brutal.

The look in the Doctor’s eyes indicated that he knew exactly what you wanted.

Wordlessly, he helped lift you so could wrap your legs around his hips, cock resting at your entrance. “Oooh, so wet for me already?” he breathed, thrusting himself against your slit. “You got absolutely soaked watching me make sure nobody ever touches what’s mine.” His long coat settled around the two of you, offering more privacy in the darkness.

The head of his cock slipped inside you, resting just for a second, before he slammed himself into you to the hilt. “Oh, gods,” he groaned, beginning a punishing rhythm. “You feel so fucking good.” His mouth began to wander down your neck, sucking deep purple bruises into your skin.

As he pushed you harder into the wall, one of his hands wandered up to the back of your head, keeping you from hitting the wall as he fucked you mercilessly.

Even in the situation you were in now, you found it extremely endearing.

“Doctor, please,” you choked out, hands grasping at his back. “I need you, all of you.” You felt him grin against your throat at your words.

“Damn right you do. You’re mine. Only mine. Nobody else gets to touch you.” He enunciated with a particularly hard thrust, “Look at you. Fuck, nobody even gets to think about you.” He let out a filthy moan as your fingers tangled in his hair. “I’ll kill the next bastard that thinks they can take you from me.”

Tightening around his cock, your impending orgasm was making itself known. The Doctor knew it too, keeping his thrusts hard and fast.

“You’re going to come, aren’t you, love? When you do, you’re going to scream for me. Scream my name so everyone knows who you belong to. Be good and come for me. Now.”

You felt the coil snap as your orgasm crashed over you. You followed his instructions, screaming his name. Calling out for the universe to hear. Making sure everyone knew what you were.

Property of the Doctor.

A few more thrusts and the Doctor followed with a shout, burying his face into your neck. He marked you inside and out, filling you just as you liked. Spurting his come into you and letting it trail down your arse. Leaving you absolutely fucked filthily and ruined for anyone who even thought of trying their luck with you.

“Thank you,” you sighed happily as he helped ease you down off of him. It didn’t take long for him to clean you both up and drag you off to the TARDIS.

He made sure you knew you were his at least five more times that night.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Fighting junk fees is "woke"

“Populism” isn’t intrinsically left or right. The distinction between the two is often obscured by jargon, but there’s a simple litmus test (courtesy of Steven Brust): “ask what’s more important: human rights, or property rights. If they say ‘property rights are human rights,’ they’re on the right.”

Which is to say, both the left and the right can be populist, but the populist left seeks to improve peoples’ lives, no matter what that takes, while the populist right is only willing to make the world better when that doesn’t interfere with the interests of property owners.

This is how you get the Libertarian Party of New Hampshire equating publicly produced, free insulin with forcing enslaved Black people to pick cotton in the fields:

https://newrepublic.com/post/174485/libertarian-party-suggests-former-black-lawmaker-pick-crops-free

For right populists, the property rights of pharma giants are human rights, so anything that interferes with those rights is equivalent to any other human rights violation.

This is not only wrong, but it’s also a huge vulnerability in the right populist mindset. It’s a button that, when pushed, produces a reliable and reflexive outrage.

This is essential for the creation, maintenance and expansion of plutocracy. In a plutocracy, a small minority owns most of the property (we live in a plutocracy). By definition, plutocracy isn’t popular, since it’s a system that benefits a small minority at everyone else’s expense. In its natural state, plutocracy is only popular with its winners, and not the vast majority of losers it creates.

So plutocrats need to find ways to get turkeys to vote for Christmas. One important trick is to convince us all that the system is fair, guided by an invisible hand that performs mystic passes over our heads at birth and locates the very best of us and elevates us to the apex of the social pyramid.

But there’s a problem with this: plutocracy is self-sustaining. The story that we’re all just “temporarily embarrassed millionaires” who can rise to the top with hard work and smarts falls flat in the face of the reality that nearly everyone at the top was born there. If the system selects rulers based on merit, and if everyone the system selects was born rich, then the rich must have some genetic trait that makes them destined to rule.

This is why plutocracy always turns into aristocracy: the idea that some people are suited to rule because they have “good blood.” Eugenics is, above all, a way to excuse inequality. Fitness to rule is determined primarily by whose orifice you emerge from, and only secondarily by any obvious competence or skill.

So right wing footsoldiers are mired in a terrible and shameful swamp of self-loathing. By definition, their lack of wealth and power is their own fault, and not merely their fault, but the fault of their genes. Being on the bottom is proof that you deserve to be there. Your failure to rise proves that you don’t deserve to rise.

No wonder the right is so irony-poisoned. Remember 2020, when gun-nuts got “revenge” on gun safety scolds by photographing themselves pointing loaded guns at their own penises? The participants insisted that they were just trolling, and they were…by pointing loaded guns at their dicks:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/28/holographic-nano-layer-catalyser/#musketfuckers

Plutocrats understand that there are limits to irony, and that at a certain point, irony poisoning becomes so acute that your rank-and-file literally start blowing their balls off. To relieve the pressure, plutes scapegoat other people based on their gender, sexual orientation, race, or nationality.

This provides an important resolution to the cognitive dissonance of meritocracy. The reason you’re doing so badly isn’t that you lack merit, it’s that affirmative action has elevated unworthy people to the positions that you deserve. You are a temporarily embarrassed millionaire — but the riches you deserve have been snaffled up by welfare queens and DEI consultants.

Cruelty isn’t the point of culture war bullshit: the point is power. Cruelty is merely the tactic:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/09/turkeys-voting-for-christmas/#culture-wars

Culture war bullshit is a very reliable way to get turkeys to vote for Christmas. Take the campaign against junk fees, which have ticketmastered every part of your life with “fees” for things like “paying your rent by check” and “not paying your rent by check”:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/30/military-industrial-park-service/#booz-allen

There is no broad constituency for junk fees. Scam artists (including scam artists in the C-suites of Fortune 100 companies) love them, sure, but junk fees make everyone else furious.

What’s a plutocrat to do? Well, it turns out that culture war bullshit can make right wingers point (metaphorical) guns at their own junk — all plutocrats need to do is put the word out that getting rid of junk fees is “woke” and low-information right-wing thumbsuckers will demand the right to be charged junk fees.

Here’s an example: one especially pernicious form of junk fee is the “swipe fees” that credit-card companies charge merchants. In an increasingly cashless age, these companies — dominated by the Visa/Mastercard duopoly — have figured out how to scrape 3–5% out of every single retail transaction in the entire fucking economy.

Every merchant you patronize has to charge more — or reduce quality, or both — in order to pay this Danegeld to two of the largest, most profitable companies in the world. Visa/Mastercard have hiked their fees by 40 percent since the pandemic’s start. Forty. Fucking. Percent. Tell me again how greedflation isn’t real?

A bipartisan legislative coalition, led by Senator Dick Durbin (D-IL) and Senator Roger Marshall (R-KS) have proposed the Credit Card Competition Act (CCCA), which will force competition into credit-card routing, putting pressure on the Visa/Mastercard duopoly:

https://www.congress.gov/bill/118th-congress/senate-bill/1838/text?s=1&r=3

This should be a no-brainer, but plute spin-doctors have plenty of no-brains to fill up with culture war bullshit. Writing in The American Prospect, Luke Goldstein unpacks an astroturf campaign to save the endangered swipe fee from woke competition advocates:

https://prospect.org/power/2023-08-04-wall-street-culture-war-swipe-fee-reform/

Now, this campaign isn’t particularly sophisticated. It goes like this: Target is a big business that runs a lot of transactions through Visa/Mastercard, so it stands to benefit from competition in payment routing. And Target did a mean woke by selling Pride merch, which makes them groomers. So by fighting swipe fees, Congress is giving woke groomers a government bailout!

It’s literally that stupid. It’s being pushed by a dark money group based in Kansas, which is targeting Senator Marshall’s constituents with mailers that warns voters they’ll “lose their credit card points” because he’s thrown his lot in with “liberal politicians”:

https://punchbowl.news/caf-marshall-mailer-kansas/

The fliers also warn that competition could result in “your financial data could be processed by partners of the Chinese Communist Party” (the bill bans foreign companies from routing transactions, and bans China UnionPay by name).

The fliers are anonymous. The only ghoul shameless enough to put his name on the campaign is Grover Norquist, whose Americans for Tax Reform tells its Christmas-voting-turkeys to “side with consumers, not woke retailers.”

The dark money org pushing this line have placed op-eds in newspapers across red states, comparing transaction routing competition to your kids’ data being snaffled up by Tiktok:

https://www.theflstandard.com/senators-rubio-and-scott-must-protect-the-personal-financial-data-of-floridians/

This nonsense was peddled by League of Southeastern Credit Unions president Samantha Beeler, whose org has spent $20,000 fighting the CCCA, claiming that a “cheaper” system would be “less secure”:

https://disclosurespreview.house.gov/ld/ldxmlrelease/2023/Q2/301493985.xml

But that’s small potatoes. Millions are being spent, right now, lobbying against CCCA — $5m from the American Bankers’ Association, $2m from the Credit Union National Association, another $400k from Mastercard.

For these rentiers, corrupting our government with millions is a stellar bargain if it lets them continue to collect rent every time we spend money. And millions of people who’ll end up paying that will demand the right to do so, provided they’re told that they’re fighting “woke capitalism” and China.

I'm kickstarting the audiobook for "The Internet Con: How To Seize the Means of Computation," a Big Tech disassembly manual to disenshittify the web and bring back the old, good internet. It's a DRM-free book, which means Audible won't carry it, so this crowdfunder is essential. Back now to get the audio, Verso hardcover and ebook:

http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/04/owning-the-libs/#swiper-no-swiping

[Image ID: A mechanical credit card imprinter (AKA 'zipzap') emblazoned with a US flag Punisher logo. It is imprinting a blank credit-card slip with a red Visa card bearing the GOP logo. It sits on a weathered wooden plank table, stained a dark brown.]

[randomnameless]

Why do the FEH devs insist on ignoring Nabatean lore so much?

I recently had a surprisingly cordial discussion on redshit with someone about the "nabateans = colonisers" take, and one of the main points raised was that the game was purposedly foggy around Nabateans/Sothis/their story because it would obviously favor a certain narrative (and thus make another narrative look, uh, not that marketable anymore).

To be honest, we still ended up with a product that had a lead go "this race and its blood* is the reason why the world sucks" and yet that lead is still marketable enough to have raunchy cipher cards and 5 FEH alts, so I actually wonder if, while pissing on that lore had that purpose, it was ultimately pointless since Supreme Leader can still sell goodies despite her incarnation in FE16.

And not only Supreme Leader - but the entirety of WC where we basically have 70% of the cast crying/complaining about their "mixed blood" or lack of and basically adding their 10 cents to the "this race and its blood is the reason why the world sucks".

I mean, can you imagine Sylvain selling any goodies and alts if Flayn replied to his "wah wah people only are kind to me and want to fuck me because I have Nabatean blood :(" by some uncharacteristic "good for you, I have to hide my ears, had to dye my hair, have to lie about my family because if the truth is found out about my identity, I will be hunted and vivisected like an animal and harvested for parts by people who call my kin abominations - just like what happens in the game where the same people who call my kin "abominations" ally with a classmate who calls me a creature and pretends I am incapable of human feelings based on my race".

FE Fodlan's main selling point is its cast of students, for various reasons, but even if I tried to kid myself, Nopes and FEH made it clears : students are the main selling point.

If you spare more time and attention to the Nabatean plot/lore, the students either grow from "likeable" to "despicable" or worse, you won't gaf about them because yeah sure, Hilda might be upset because people expect things from her due to her crust, but it would feel like a "peanut" compared to Seteth's irrational (granted, it's not so irrational since GW exists) fear that Flayn's newest friends would dissect her if they learnt she was a Nabatean, and being conflicted by finally letting her have human friends and form bonds she crave, or protect her due to the trauma from the genocide of their species.

Don't get me wrong, I love peanuts, I mean, not everyone can have a tragik of loaded backstory!

And yet, given how this verse's DNA is "can you fight against the red emperor who uwus about you", they had to add copious amounts of Earl Grey to their games so there's no clear-cut factions :

The "Your alien blood and its influence on the world corrupted it, so I want to reform it under my command" vs "I don't want to die and you oppose me due to my race and side with the people who genocided my kin"

is turned to :

"Your alien blood Crests and its your church's influence on the world corrupted it, so I want to reform it under my command"

"I don't want to die and you oppose me due to my race and side with the people who genocided my kin"

Sprinkle with the cast's hammering here and there that the "reforms" might be needed - but never develop on what they are - and add a few baseless and groundless takes as a toping (basically everything Claude says about tolerance and the general "isolationism/foreign policy" stuff) and you get FE Fodlan where the Red Emperor's war isn't seen as the catastrophe it is in the other entries from the series!

Now, for FEH...

FWIW, the F!F!Billy's trailer had them try to explain that Sothis was a bit pissed about her slaughtered/massacred children when Nopes never gave any reason about why she was pissed - maybe on Billy's behalf bcs Jerry's dead, but come on, she would indeed deserve the medal of the worst parent in the franchise if that was the case, since Billy can murder her daughter without Sothis taking over ! - but given that they cannot write/go against the source game those characters are from.

They tried a bit, with B!Supreme Leader and Hegemongard's FB, but then it stopped (because she had no "new unit" released since then lol) and I can understand why : Hegemongard came out before the Supreme Emblem, and Hegemongard hates dragons who are seen/perceived as gods by some of their human followers. Come FE17, and now Supreme Emblem accepts Alear because they are "one of the good ones". We can come up with HCs and details and talk about what are emblems or if Hegemongard's views were only hers at the end of AM all day long... But imo, Doylist wise, it still feels it's a retcon because the devs from the main games tried to scrap and remove the most "controversial" traits she had.

For the other characters... Well, you see what Marianne is in FEH (but even in her base games), she's one of the few characters who reacts - in a way - to the partial history about relics and demonic beasts and all... only to give sad uwus to Maurice.

FE16 (and Nopes) refused to have any "student" character react to the Nabatean lore/reveal, about what are relics and all. There are no lines, Claude shared some knowledge in the explore section of VW's last chapter, but we don't have anyone muse or think or even talk about what are relics, what are crests, and what kind of fuckery their ancestors or the ancient humans of Fodlan did.

With that in mind, FEH can't do much : either they write Marianne in a retcon-y way like what happened for Hegemongard (and they're not afraid to piss on characterisation, look at Lyon!), or they flanderise her "character" and develop her around 3 lines she had in the game in her paralogue, and continue to give sad uwus about Momo when he was at best a guy who slaughtered and murdered so much that he abused the Nabatean turned into a relic to the point where he turned in a demonic beast even if he had a matching crest, or at worst, had been part of Nemesis's piñata party in Zanado and was something of a genocider.

Tldr :

Why FE Fodlan never gaf about Nabateans : earl grey + the marketable cast has to stay marketable and you can't sell peanuts at the same price you'd sell swordfish

Why FEH dgaf about Nabatean lore : they can't afford to retcon characters + they have to sell peanut alts with the same seasoning they had in their base game.

For what it's worth though, I think FEH is more daring than the base game(s) given how they gave more lines and screentime to Rhea - through her different alts - than GW. And they even designed her Halloween!alt's lines to piss on some of Claude's assertions, while the various FB involving members of the church also - indirectly - reply to some accusations thrown their way in FE16 when, FE16, never gave them an opportunity or lines to explain that those takes were full of dung.

*"but random, maybe she doesn't know that the crests she often decries is "dragon blood"!"

It's highly debatable, especially given what she and Hubert throw to Billy in CF - but even if she doesn't, Doylist wise we still have a character who, knowingly or not, says "this race and its blood* is the reason why the world sucks" and who is never called out on her prejudice. That's more of an issue regarding the general writing though, she has to be a red emperor and took pages from Ashnard's book, and yet, the player must still feel bad and want to romance her, so her mindest/goal cannot be looked at too closely, because, I guess, even the devs thought it would be difficult to romance her (thus sell goodies!) if more light was shed on the "blood from this race corrupts our people" schtick -> which in turn would also make characters whose backstory and gimmick rely on "crying about crests" be way less likeable, thus marketable and able to sell goodies.

[etaleah]

What Is the Appeal of Sonadow?

I have a lot of thoughts about this ship, what draws people to it, and why some of the criticisms of it are exaggerated or less than honest. Putting them under a cut because it’s gonna get long.

First of all, the critique of “Lol why do people ship them when they beat the shit out of each other whenever they disagree on something, they’re abusive!” is dishonest framing for two reasons. One is that it ignores the fact that Sonic and Shadow are allies far more often than they’re enemies, and even when they are enemies, it’s usually over something serious, not just a minor disagreement. The other is that it’s bad media criticism to apply real human standards to a cartoon animal universe.

When you watch the classic Looney Tunes short where Bugs and Daffy are arguing over whether it’s Rabbit Season or Duck Season and Bugs tricks Daffy into shooting himself, do you see Bugs as abusive and evil? Probably not, because the laws of physics don’t apply in cartoons and Daffy getting shot in the face doesn’t actually hurt him. He’s still completely fine afterwards because he’s a cartoon and is therefore invincible. The same is true for Sonic and Shadow. Have you ever seen either of them seriously injured after one of their fights? Has either one ever needed to go to the hospital because the other beat him up so badly? No, of course not. They groan in pain for about two seconds and then they’re fine. If the creators wanted to convey them being injured, they could show bruises or blood or have bones snapping and the characters limping, but they don’t. The fights are never meant to be taken that seriously. I find this criticism every bit as annoying and overzealous as people who insist that Pinky and the Brain are abusive because Brain bops Pinky on the head. They’re cartoons, y’all. They’re not realistic, were never meant to be realistic, and shouldn’t be treated as realistic. Different standards apply.

To the second point, Sonic and Shadow don’t actually fight that often. In all the interactions they’ve had together, it’s only been a handful of times. They’re allies in the Archie comics, Sonic ‘06, the canon ending of Shadow the Hedgehog (they’re only enemies in that game if the player wants them to be), Sonic Forces, Team Sonic Racing, The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog, and most of the IDW comics, along with the endings of Sonic X, Sonic Adventure 2, and Sonic Heroes. They’re allies for much of Prime as well. But hey, let’s break down the times they do fight:

Sonic Adventure 2: Shadow’s memories have been tampered with and he and Sonic are literally fighting over the fate of the world.

Sonic X: Same thing for season 2, and in season 3, they’re fighting over whether Cosmo should live or die. Sonic says killing her is wrong, Shadow says stopping the Metarex is what’s most important and if that means little Cosmo has to die, well, them’s the breaks, pal.

Sonic Prime: Sonic has broken their world, Shadow is trying desperately to save it, and Sonic is valuing the Shatterverse inhabitants over Green Hill.

IDW: Shadow says Eggman is too dangerous to leave alive and if that means Mr. Tinker has to die too, well, them’s the breaks, pal. Sonic says killing anyone is wrong no matter the reason.

You see a pattern here? Most of the time what they fight over is literally life and death. They’re not going at each other’s throats over petty bullshit like who gets the last slice of pizza or who gets to pick the film for Movie Night. They fight over serious moral differences. I would argue that Amy and Knuckles have gotten angry at Sonic for way less than what Shadow does.

Now, there are a few instances where their fights are stupid, namely Sonic Boom and Sonic Heroes. But I think it’s pretty universally agreed that Shadow is out of character in Boom, and honestly, all of the fights in Sonic Heroes are very forced. There was no reason for Team Dark or Team Rose to fight Team Chaotix; their goals don’t contradict each other in any way and it’s clearly just manufactured conflict to give the player another boss fight. And these are the exception; most of their fights are over serious ideological divides.

Those serious ideological divides are exactly what makes Sonadow so interesting. I personally prefer ships where characters can learn and grow from each other, where their differences can clash until they learn to reconcile them. I don’t find a ship like, say, Sonamy nearly as interesting because I don’t think there’s many (if any) moral stances Sonic would have that Amy wouldn’t. They already agree on the important things. I’m not bashing anyone who likes that ship; if that’s your thing, good for you. It just doesn’t appeal to me because I think Sonic and Amy already having a lot in common morally means they can’t really grow and change from interacting with each other in the same way.

Sonic can bring out the best in Shadow, teach him to trust others and lighten up and learn how to live in the moment rather than being tethered to the past. Shadow can teach Sonic how to think before he acts, to view the world more realistically, and to consider the impact that his insistence on moral purity will have on others. That setup makes for some amazing stories.

Also? These guys love fighting each other. They’re both athletes and very competitive. Look at how much they smile when they fight:

Like…they love this. It’s so much fun for them. Sonic and Shadow are both competitive athletes who love pushing themselves, but in terms of speed, no one is any competition for them except each other. No one else can beat either of them in a race. Imagine spending your whole life winning so easily that there was no accomplishment in it, and then suddenly this guy comes along who’s actually as good as you or maybe even better. Finally you have a challenge and can really enjoy the feeling of being the best. That’d be amazing. They give each other something no one else can, and to me, that’s what good romances are made of.

And all of that is combined with the fact that Sonadow offers an Odd Couple setup, which is always fertile ground for fun, comedic situations that require opposite characters to work together. Plus the Enemies/Rivals to Lovers aspect, which adds a bit of “forbidden fruit” to the mix because we all know that the most tempting and appealing relationships are the ones that are Forbidden (TM). That’s literally the premise of Romeo and Juliet, people who aren’t supposed to be together but end up wanting to be anyway.

I wouldn’t want Sonadow to be canon, but I definitely enjoy exploring it in fandom. It’s a fun ship that offers a lot for a writer or artist to work with. And while I would never force it on anyone, I wish the criticisms of it weren’t quite so shallow and disingenuous.

[heliads]

speak now (or forever hold your peace)

Charles Leclerc finds himself waiting on someone in a church. All of their friends and family are here, but the only person he can think about, the person he's here for, is Y/N L/N.

masterlist

warnings: marriage, death, angst, pining

They say there’s only two main reasons someone would invite this many people to a church:  a wedding or a funeral. A morbid phrase, certainly, but somehow fitting, as all uncomfortable sayings are. Charles, for one, knows exactly why he’s here today, and the other option is something he doesn’t even want to think about. Not today. Not ever. 

There are many churches in Monaco, but only one would work today. It’s the one right down the street from where both of them lived, him and Y/N, up until the point where Charles started racing and let fast cars and extended contracts take him far, far away from the place that used to be theirs. 

Now he’s back again. Say what you will about fate or destiny, but it does seem to have a clear message. No matter how long Charles runs, he will always circle around far enough to find himself back home. 

That’s the wrong message for today and he knows it. Today is not for thoughts on racing, today is for him and Y/N, Y/N and him. He’s known her since they were both too small to talk but just big enough to know they were meant to be best friends, and now they’re hovering on opposite sides of a church neither of them have really orbited until now. 

Y/N’s parents chose the church, and God knows they’re in over their heads enough as is, so Charles won’t spare another thought towards the location. The place of this event is, of course, insignificant in the long run. What matters most is the life he leads afterwards. 

And what a life indeed. Looking back on it later, and even caught up in the frenetic moment of now, Charles will evenly divide his memories up into two distinct segments:  before this day, and after it. 

The before is marvelous. Childhood friends– they’re better than anyone else, really. Your family loves you because they have to, but your friends choose you because they want to, and that made all the difference. Y/N knew more about Charles than anyone else on this earth who wasn’t a direct blood relation, and despite everything, she still chose him.

It makes no sense, really. How do you grow up watching a boy become obsessed with a team that’ll never let him win a world championship, who will drag away hope just to hold it tantalizingly close, and still believe in him? Charles calls her after every race, the good and the bad, just to hear her voice. Anyone else would get tired of him, but not Y/N. Never Y/N.

It had taken him forever to realize that he loved her. Strange that he didn’t know it until he was old enough to move out of home, but Charles always thought of it like a guarantee, that even if he had nothing he had Y/N, so maybe it was only after they were separated for the first time that he could truly figure it out.

Charles had made her cry when he left. She’d tried not to let the tears out, not in front of him, but he saw the telltale traces of her sadness when he was saying farewell, about to board the plane. Charles had never felt so bad about anything in his entire life, knowing he’d caused Y/N grief, but conversely, nothing ever felt so good as when he’d returned at the end of the season and she’d sprinted into his arms at the airport, back together at last. 

On that day, her head tucked under his chin, both of them physically as close as they could possibly get under the circumstances, Charles finally realized what he knows now in excess:  he was utterly in love with Y/N L/N, and he always would be. 

Right now, the separation between them consists of the white walls of this church and the crowds they’re in. Charles is with his family, and Y/N is with hers, but after this, there will be no more divisions, not really, just the crowd of we-were-here that will make them whole.

Charles knows where he is, and there is, of course, the knowledge that Y/N is somewhere in this very building, just a few doors down but somehow utterly unreachable until the ceremony begins. He hasn’t seen her all day today, actually. Has no idea what she’s even wearing. She’s been prettied up by now, no doubt, a perfect picture of everything he loves, but he will not know until it all starts. 

Charles already knows that he’s going to cry when he sees her, and he tells his mother as much. She clucks her tongue knowingly, then says something about how he always was her emotional boy, even when he was a child. It’s not a bad thing, not always. Sometimes, on days like today, it lets you know that you love someone, and he does love someone. He loves her.

Someone coughs, and Charles flinches slightly, jerking upright and back to reality, out of his head. This is an important day. He’s not going to mess it up just because he was thinking about the past. All he has now is the future, years and years of things that haven’t happened yet and happy memories that he will be blessed to make.

Charles casts a look around the room. His best mates are here with him still, wearing what appears to be the same black suit and trousers. They never officially picked out what they’d wear together, but formalwear always tends to look similar anyway. Not his fault they all have the same taste in suit jackets.

One of his friends from back home stands up, claps him on the shoulder. “You ready to go out there?”

Charles swallows hard, then nods. The sooner it starts, the sooner he gets to the after. He lets his friends go out first, follows them blindly through the innards of a church he hasn’t been to since he was small. He’s half sure that if he just looks hard enough, glances in the periphery of his vision before the ghosts can flicker out of his sight, he’ll catch a glimpse of him and Y/N, shorter than waist height, running from their parents to hide in one of the Sunday school classrooms to laugh and laugh until they were found again.

Instead, Charles keeps his eyes resolutely ahead. The smell of flowers grows almost overpowering the closer he gets to the front of the building, and when his friends pull open the doors to the main room, it’s the first thing he notices, the dozens of sprays of lilies and roses, so many petals that it looks like freshly fallen snow.

His feet slow down once he’s inside, and Charles feels all eyes on him as he processes down the aisle behind his friends. He can see Y/N’s parents already there, front row, then his parents across the aisle from them, his brothers further down the pew. Everyone who knew the two of them are here now, and dry eyes have already started to sparkle.

Charles blinks and he’s at the front of the sanctuary. He looks up at the cross suspended from the wall, breathes in and out quickly, and then he turns and he sees her at last. Y/N, wearing white, but Y/N, perfectly still. Y/N, dead so young, because he is not here for a wedding nor a birth or any kind of happy festivity, but for her funeral.

His knees almost buckle. It takes everything in him to stand over her coffin, to look at her closed eyes and understand that they will never open again. Charles manages to stumble over to his family’s pew and sit down, listening blankly as the members of the church arrive and begin to speak on Y/N’s life, which somehow, impossibly, is already over and done.

Charles can still feel the stares even as speeches are given, memories are shared. They’ve told him that, although this pain is fresh and raw, he’ll be able to get over it in time, because they were both young, and he at least had plenty more years to enjoy even if she didn’t. They click their tongues at him like he’s a child, and express their sympathies. He wants to scream at all of them for not understanding, but of course that would make him seem even more juvenile than before, so he holds his tongue and attempts to keep the tears at bay. It doesn’t entirely work.

Charles knows a lot, actually, more than anyone gives him credit for. He knows what it’s like to sink your whole life into a job that will never give you back anything but your own blood and sweat and tears. He knows what it’s like to love, what it’s like to lose, and exactly how agonizing it feels to sit at the funeral of your best friend, your girlfriend, the woman you should have lived forever with and will now never get the chance. 

Those who would speak have by now, and people start to file from the church again. Charles does not move a muscle, even as his friends and then his family start to shuffle around, fix their clothes, and get up. The tracks of tears are still hot and fresh on his face, so his mother presses a hand briefly to his shoulder and hands him a tissue before directing his brothers to go on without him. 

Charles stays there, watching everyone else depart the room, and he wonders how he is ever supposed to get up and live his life without the one girl who has always been there for him. There has never been any world in which he did not have Y/N with him, and now she is lost to him forever. It is grievously unfair and completely out of his control. He has already been to too many funerals. This one is too final a blow to bear.

Charles is the last one to leave the funeral service. Y/N’s family is kind enough to give him a few moments alone with her in the church. He doesn’t deserve it, not more than them, who had her for longer than he ever did, who knew the secrets he never got to ask about. 

Charles Leclerc sits alone in the church, he clasps his hands together so tightly that the blood rushes out of them from the sheer force of his prayer, and he thinks,

I wish I had married you. 

a/n hahahahhaa

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[gremlinmodetweeker]

König's Serious Phobias

I'm pretty stressed out because I'm moving, so I decided to write about König stressing out too! Yay! Anyways, let's go.

König has a complicated past. His childhood was filled with bullying, his adult life has been filled with bullets and bombs. He's been through too much for one man, honestly. The fact that he hasn't either become a hikikomori or a homicidal maniac is a miracle. I think the only reason we're safe is because he has a good family and he found good friends when he joined the military. However, he has scars. Not all of them are painted on his skin.

I've collected phobias that I think he might have into a list, however some of these fears are fears that though they impact him seriously, he can live with them and won't have a panic attack upon facing them. Fears that genuinely terrify him identified. His fears are ranked 1 through 5, with 1 being a fear that just makes him a bit wary/on edge, but he's not going to have a meltdown unless pushed or 5, a fear that can cripple him with just a brush.

Phobias are listed under the cut (also I got the fears from a list online, hence why they're mostly alphabetical)

1 Scopophobia: Fear of being watched

König grew up in a small, rural village surrounded by monsters in all shapes and sizes. Adults were cruel, children were monsters. He grew up being afraid of going out because he knew that everyone in the village saw him as the socially outcast freak. Every time he looked at people, he saw them looking at him with disdain. I think a lot of this is due to developing social anxiety, and so thus he became paranoid, but he did develop a fear of people watching him, judging him, following him with their eyes. He hates going out into the civilian world because of this.

1 Agorophobia: Fear of open spaces or crowds

König is scared of going out into crowds. Why? See phobia above. He can't stand being outside of a place he considers safe. Not in a 'I can't go on missions' way, but in a 'I don't want to go to a shopping mall' sort of way. On a mission, he's either alone or in combat. When he's in civilian life, he doesn't know how to turn the military brain off. He can't get it through his reptilian brain that he's safe, and he's okay, and no that person carrying a duffle bag is not actually carrying a hidden rifle, and no that person with a thick coat does not have a bomb under their clothes, and no that person who's walking towards him does not have a knife in their belt. He is safe. He knows this logically, but he can't stop his heart from racing. It's too loud, too hectic, too many things can go wrong too quickly.

5 Atychiphobia: Fear of failure

Do you know what failure means when you're on a mission infiltrating a cartel base? Failure means watching your teammates get blown apart by a bomb. Failure is watching your best friend fall down into a puddle of their own blood. Failure is getting a bullet between the ears. Failure is not an option in his world. When people make mistakes, don't check their surroundings properly, when someone dares to light up a cigarette at night in an open area, that's when people die. Remember this phrase when you go to smoke on a battlefield. The first light catches the sniper's attention, the second light he lines his sights, the third light he pulls the trigger. Mistakes cost lives when on the field.

1 Catagelophobia:Fear of being ridiculed

This one is pretty self explanatory. He's been bullied his whole life. He's pretty sick of it.

3 Cynophobia: Fear of dogs

König, due to working in missions that target gangs and domestic terrorist groups, has had the misfortune of seeing dogs being used against his own people. He's been attacked by a dog before himself. In combat, dogs are tools of terror. He's seen his own team use dogs, and he knows what they're capable of. You might see a fluffy German shepherd. He sees a dog that's torn peoples hands off. However! He does also like dogs when he meets them in public. He is not going to assume your dog is a killer, but if your dog growls, he won't dare touch that dog. He won't even get close. He's seen what dogs can do.

As mentioned before in this post, König's first reaction to fears he can see is to lash out. He will punch or kick without thinking. He doesn't even yell or gasp when he does it. It's just what he does. If you go to sneak up on him, you'd best be ready to dodge. He feels really bad about it, and he's been banned from 10 different haunted houses around the world.

For fears he can't physically lash out at, he will just keep an eye on things. OODA loop, you know? Observe, Orient, Decide, Act. That's going on in his head over and over again. If he's out in public, that's going on in the back of his head. If he sees a dog, he's going through multiple different scenarios and evaluating the likelihood of each possibility. Normally he's a quiet man, but he goes deathly quiet when he's afraid. If you notice him freaking out like this, it might be nice to ground him by getting his attention and then taking his hand, or distracting him from what he's thinking about. He might not say it until later, but he'll be thankful.

[devilmen-collector]

The Pope is Dead

Ft. M!MC, the Devil Kings (only the five who have been released), Gamigin and other nobles (only nobles who have appeared stories, except Astaroth, I don't have any story part with Astaroth in my account), the Seraphim

C/W: religious theme, reader's death (natural cause)

This is a revamp of my own fic in OM with similar theme

It has been 72 years...

It has been 72 years since you last saw them. Back then, you were a young man with many lustful desires of the youth. Yet you remember the time you spent with them... It went by in an instant but you were happy.

When did it start to go wrong? When did the conflict start to appear? Maybe because your got into conflict with them when you saw or heard them blaspheme God. After all, you were raised a cradle Catholic, seeing them blaspheme God never sat right with you. Or maybe it was because you saw the danger if devils continued to have influence on humanity. After all, we and they are two different races, with different views towards things. And you knew that many things applied to devils and their society can't be applied to human society, regarding how the society works, government, laws, etc. You foresaw what you believed to be the inevitable destruction if you continued to let human have contact with devils. Or maybe some other reasons. It was very complicated. Sometimes, you don't even know what ultimately led to the rift.

That day 72 years ago, you used the devils' power to pull the strings behind the scene to get yourself elected to the most powerful spiritual position in the world, the Pope. The devils were unhappy but they followed your wish anyway, even though your office is totally opposed to them. They loved you too much for their own good to go against your will.

Right after your election, you exposed the existence of angels and devils to the world. With concreate evidence, even the most convinced atheists and agnostics before had to believe in the existence in the supernatural. Then you made sure the idea that the human society was incompatible in every way to devils became the mainstream and most accepted opinion. You also made sure that people never believed that inventions came from devils, but devils only claimed that to be the case to control human society. Leaders of the world soon declared they would be cutting ties with the devils. You didn't believe them completely, of course, which was why you waged a Crusade. The Crusade was fueled by either the faith or the wrath of 8 billion normal citizen and it was so effective that it's believed that all ties between Earth and Hell were cut off. At least, no concrete evidence or sign or any report sent to you supported a remaining connection between earth and Hell.

You also used the powers that you inherited from your ancestor, Solomon, to make a shield around papal residence, which prevents any devil from coming in.

As for the angels, you tricked the Seraphim that you were on their side now. With what you had done, they believed in you. But you trapped them and turned them into energy sources to sustain the shield around your residence. With their infinite life forces God has given them, they are still alive and curse you every day from under the Vatican basilica, where they are imprisoned.

Even though you did manage to cut off Hell's influence on humanity and make the Church's influence stronger, world peace has never been achieved as you have hoped, many people still live in poverty and starvation. Technology is more advanced, but the world is still the same now when you are at death's door as it was 72 years ago.

*cough cough*

"Holy Father" your secretary uses a piece of tissue to wipe the blood that is flowing from your mouth after the coughing.

"We have little time left." You say, almost like a whisper, but all of those cardinals, bishops, priests and doctors around you understand what you said. Your priest secretary can't even hold back his tears.

"We are the longest-reigning Pope ever, with 72 yeats occupying the Chair of St. Peter, but We have not achieved anything noteworthy, except pushing all devils back to Hell."

"No, Holy Father, you have achieved something we couldn't for more than 20 centuries. God will reward His faithful servant." A cardinal says.

"You are a faithful laborer of the Lord." Says another cardinal.

Suddenly, a Swiss guard runs into the room, his face terrified.

"T-the Devil Kings, t-they are here..." The guard says as he pants.

Ah, the shield protecting the papal residence must have been weakening as I lay dying. You say to yourself. That must be the reason why the Devil Kings can break in now.

"Leave." You say calmly. All the clergy and the guard turn to look at you, surprised by your order.

"Leave." You order again, your tone more firm this time. It's time for you to face them, alone. The children God has committed to your care have nothing to do with this.

Some of them start to cry but all of them leave, but not before whispering among themselves to alert all the exorcists and papal guards. However, the Swiss guard stay.

"Holy Father, I have sworn to protect you, even if I have to sacrifice myself." The Swiss guard says. You know he won't leave so you agree to let him stay.

The doors to your room bursts open, as four devil kings, no, three devil kings and a hundreds of flies step or fly into the room. You can see the young guard standing by your side shudder but he stands firm, determining to protect you, whatever the cost he may have to pay.

"You have changed so much." Beelzebub is the first one to speak as his handsome appearance emerge from hundreds of flies. He doesn't smile.

"We- I see that you guys are still the same." You look at the four devil kings. There's Beelzebub, Mammon, Leviathan, and Lucifer.

So Satan, Asmodeus and Belphegor aren't here. They must be so mad at me that they don't want to see me again. You say within yourself. You aren't surprised that the nobles aren't here. The shield may be weakened because you are dying, allowing the kings to pass through, but you are still breathing and sustaining it with your powers, and it's strong enough to prevent the nobles.

"Not the same ever since you left, Master." Mammon says with a sad voice.

You are surprised to hear Mammon still calling you Master, but you no longer have the strength to point it out.

"I must have hurt you guys a lot."

"Yes, you did." Leviathan says with an angry expression. "You said you would stay in Hell but you betrayed us." However, the scowl is quickly replaced by an expression that looks like Leviathan is holding back his emotions.

Lucifer is the first one to come over to your bed. The guard beside you raises his weapon but he's knocked unconscious soon enough.

"Don't kill him." You say weakly.

Lucifer nods as he takes your hand. He checks your weakening pulse. You can see his eyes sadden. "Oh the fate of all children of Adam." You can hear him whispering, like talking to himself. Other kings also come over and stand beside your bed.

Ah, that's my cue. You close your eyes, awaiting your cruel death, after all, you are on your death bed, you have no regrets.

However, nothing comes.

"Aren't you going to kill me?" You open your eyes and ask.

"No, we're here to take you home." Beelzebub answers.

"Even after my betrayal?"

"We have never gotten over that. But knowing you are dying, we want to take you back first, Master. We will talk about this over in Hell."

"I'm dying, Mammon. I can't be there for the talk."

"That's why we have created a plan."

"We will wait for you to die, so that the office of the Pope will leave you. Then we will have Gamigin revive you."

"And I'll have Orias feed you angel's soul to make you young again."

"It won't work." You say calmly. "It's the sentence on all children of Adam. Gamigin's revival ability won't work. Just as your healing ability won't work on me, Lucifer, because I'm dying of natural cause."

The kings go silent. They know you could be right. Lucifer, more than anyone, knows you are right because none of the healing he is doing works. He only clings to some hope. You know you are crushing their hope, but you have accepted your fate long ago. At least you know they still love you. Thinking about that, tears start to flow from your eyes

"Where are Satan and the others?" You ask.

"Gehenna nobles are here. But Satan...he's very depressed after you left."

"It will be...too...late..."

The vision you start to see changes. The images of yourself and your memories, be it happy or sad, start to flash through your eyes. With each moment of you with the devils, your tears start to shed more as you can't help but say "sorry", "I miss you" and "I love you" in your mind. Your breathing becomes harder and you can't feel your body anymore.

Lord, forgive me, I wish I could have served you more faithfully.

I love you all and I'm sorry.

Is that Leamas and Nina waving at me?

Is that you... Minhyeok? It has been so long.

"You have done what you think is best. Now rest." The young man with long purple hair says and smiles. "With you, my bloodline is extinct, but I won't hold it against you." You can even hear a little bit mischief toward the end.

Outside the papal residence, the devil nobles, led by Sitri, Bimet, Foras and Bael, are engaged in a mostly glaring contest at the guards and exorcists and clergy who have arrived to aid the Pope. There are a few guards lying on the ground, but they are only knocked unconscious.

"No." Sitri suddenly laments as the shield around the palace disintegrated.

"That means..."

"Let's go inside."

As the devils rush inside, the clergy, exorcists and guards follow suit.

As they come into the room, they see the devil kings surrounding you, who are clearly dead.

"Holy Father!" All of Catholics in the room kneel down and weep.

"Who is the Camerlengo?" Lucifer asks and one cardinal stands up in response to his question. The Camerlengo knows what he has to do. He comes over to check your body to confirm if you are dead or not.

"I need a doctor. But all doctors left for safety. Only us clergy returned."

Lucifer turns and nods at Morax, who comes over to check on you. After finishing, he tells the Camerlengo his conclusion. The Camerlengo turns to all in the room and says.

"The Pope is dead."

The Camerlengo turns back to you. He kisses the golden ring on your right hand and takes it out and destroys it in the presence of all, signifying the end of your papacy. The Catholics make the sign of the Cross and say the prayers for the dead. A priest leaves for the adjacent room to say Mass for the deceased pontiff.

Even with the plan, the devil kings don't plan to stop the piety of the Catholics.

"Gamigin."

"Yes, hyung."

Satan arrives when the bells of the Vatican basilica are being rung. Hundreds of people in the square immediately get into prayers as they know what those bells signify. Satan doesn't care and speeds up his vehicle pass them.

Many thoughts are going through Satan's head: anger, depression, the feeling of betrayed, sadness, etc. But the biggest thought in his head is that he wants to meet you again. Everything else, let's sort out later. He speeds up the Akira into the papal residence. The Akira runs through the corridors until it arrives at the room of the Pope. Satan only stops because he can't go in further with the motorcycle. He can't wait to see his beloved alive and well because he believes in the plan. He did feel his bond with the human got broken earlier but he believes in Gamigin's ability to bring his human back.

"Where's MC?" Satan runs in the room and shouts.

"He's right there." Mammon says with a sad voice and points at the bed.

No. Satan rushed over to your bed. No, it can't be.

"Gamigin, why haven't you brought him back yet?" Satan shouts his question at Gamigin, who is holding his staff and stands behind Lucifer.

"Your Majesty, it didn't work. MC's heart will no longer beat." Sitri tries to stay composed as much as possible as he reports to Satan but the hand holding the tea cup is shaking.

Satan turns to the remains of you on the bed.

"OPEN YOUR EYES AND TELL ME THIS IS A CRUEL JOKE, MC!!!" Satan shouts and punches the wall on the side of the bed, making it crack.

All of the human in the room flinch at Satan's wrathful action, however, your lifeless body makes no move.

"I want to take MC's remains back to Gehenna." Satan says as he crunches his teeth.

"No, you can't do that. A Catholic must be buried on consecrated ground." A bunch of clergy react and state the Church's teaching.

"I will kill all of you." Satan crunches his teeth again. The clergy flinch but don't have any intention to back down.

"Your Majesty Satan," Paimon intervenes, "if you kill them, MC will be sad. After all, they are MC's spiritual children.

"I can let you consecrate a plot of land in Paradise Lost." Lucifer says.

"We have to see what he has written in his will." The Camerlengo says. "But his will can only be opened at the meeting of cardinals after the mourning period, but before the next conclave."

"How long before the next conclave?" Leviathan asks.

"15 days, the Canon Law doesn't allow anytime sooner." The Camerlengo answers.

Leviathan scowls but Beelzebub intervenes.

"Then let's wait for 2 weeks. If MC has a clause in his will to be buried in Hell, can you promise you will accept that and give his body to us?"

"Only with the condition of burial on consecrated ground and we can build a chapel around it."

"You have only mentioned the consecrated ground before, now you include a chapel. You human just keep asking more and more." Leviathan scowls again.

Before anyone can say another thing, the ground begins to shake like there is an earthquake. But it soon stops.

"They are here." Lucifer mumbles. "But they won't have any strength left to fight if we are here."

The devils all look outside the window and they see three shadows emerge from underground. They are the three Seraphim, finally released from their bondage after the death of their captor.

The Devil Kings immediately surround the bed to protect the remains of their beloved.

"Where is he? I'm going to cut off his head." Michael growls, he's so angry that blood vessel can be seen on his face.

Sensing the Devil Kings, the Seraphim all look at the papal residence, which is right beside the Vatican basilica.

"He-he's dead." Gabriel says as he looks at the remains on the bed through the window.

Seeing that you're dead, Raphael begins to laugh maniacally non-stop, so much that he has to hug his stomach mid-air.

"The kings are here. Let's...retreat for today." Michael says as his wings soar toward the sky. Gabriel follows suit.

"Remember to send funeral invitation." Raphael says finally before following his two brothers.

"Let continue our discussion later." The Camerlengo says after the commotion has subsided.

Some other people enter the room and walk toward the remains of the Pope.

"What are you doing?" Satan crunches his teeth as the newcomers.

"Calm down, Satan. They are here to take the body away for bathing and vesting."

All the devils don't want to leave you but they all back down to let people do their job.

...

"You really are so beautiful, Master, it's like all the precious things in this world are created to adorn you." Mammon says as he looks at the papal remains put on display inside the Vatican basilica of St. Peter.

You lying there, on a dark green catafalque. You are vested with red vestments, your hands are vested with red gloves embroidered with the Holy Name of the Savior, your legs wear traditional red papal shoes embroidered with a golden cross on each one. On each shoe is also adorned a ruby, which came from Mammon's treasury. A golden cross and a rosary were also put in your hands. The golden cross was from Lucifer, an accessory from the time he was still a Seraph. On your head, a golden mitre, with two folds, representing the Old Testament and the New Testament, the two "horns" of a bishop. Surrounding the catafalque are 72 candles made from pure beeswax, each represents a year of your pontificate.

The kings and their nobles stand on the upper floor of the basilica, looking at thousands of mourners paying respect to you. Each cardinal who comes over sprinkles holy water on your remains and kisses your hand. Priests and religious gather around your remains to pray for your soul.

At an occasion like this, Bimet would have already gone to collect funeral money. However, this time, he doesn't want to do that, but only to look at your "sleeping" face. Eligos standing next to him can't stop his sniffles. Valefor standing behind Mammon looking at your remains, now that nothing can be done to bring you back to them, he wishes he could stand guard beside your body as the last thing he could do for you.

Foras doesn't say anything but his heart is broken, even his beautiful horns seem to be darker than normal. Barbatos looks at the withered rose in his hand. In his heart currently there is a complete solar eclipse that has covered the sun of his life, the sun which he knows will never shine its light on him again. Glasyalabolas can't help but get angry with you, with Leviathan, with everyone, and with himself. Angry with you for being a traitor to his love. Angry with Leviathan for his bad decision of not pursuing you when the problem starts and only meet you when you are dying. Angry with everyone who separate you from him, including God. And angry with himself for failing the promise to create a kingdom with only you two. Orias drops the angel's soul in his hand. It was the angel's soul that was supposed to be used to make you young again. But what use is it when you are dead?

Bael is the only one staying in the basilica of Abyss camp, beside Beelzebub, closing his eyes remembering your smile and each moment you called his name sweetly. Stolas has gone somewhere to shoot his guns to his heart's content, calling it the last salute for you, who are "a fool". Naberius and Amon are staying with him, not speaking a word.

"It doesn't come true." Leraye remembers he once said he saw you both walking together on the streets of Gehenna, enjoying your time together for many years to come. But that never comes true. He's wondering of the only target he has missed is your heart, he fails in convincing you to stay in Hell. Paimon tries to console Leraye, but his heart is also breaking apart. Zagan doesn't say a word but he has lost an important person he must protect. Belial tries not to shed any tear, he has to stay strong for Jjyu. Sitri couldn't hold his tea cup anymore and it is dropped to the ground, shattering into countless pieces.

Andrealphus holds tight to his scythe, as if he needs something to hold tight to after he lost you. They say twins share a soul. He lost half of his souls when his brother was killed. But your death breaks to pieces the remaining half.

"It's my fault. I can't bring him back." Gamigin blames himself.

"No, it's not your fault." Each time Gamigin blames himself, a brother of his in Paradise Lost will reject that. They don't say anything more comforting because they have no strength to do that right now.

Each of the kings' heart is broken but each of them knows they have to stay strong, as for their nobles and people. They will only mourn your death in private.

Lucifer is the only one walking in the lower floor. He doesn't join the line of mourners but wandering around aimlessly, no one stops him either. Finally, he stops to look at the mosaic of the Eternal Father stretching his hand out on the dome of the basilica.

Why? Father, why? I have served you faithfully since the beginning of time, I had one source of happiness, and you took him away from me. Why? SAY SOMETHING! ANSWER ME!

...

In a graveyard in Korea, where almost no one comes on such a mourning day for the whole world, there is a little lump floating above a grave. He poured a glass of soju on the ground of the grave.

"Minhyeok, the son of Solomon...went over to meet you. Have you two...reunited? I hope you did. Please...send my regards to him." Ppyong says even though he can't stop his sniffles.

The end.

...

I have an epilogue but decided to not write it and let you guys decide the final burial place :)

[momotarotea]

Sonic Big Bang 2024!

So part of why I've been quiet recently is that I've been working on my contribution for the @sthbigbang event!

Of course, I had to write a Shadamy fic. I also did an illustration for my fic, as did the immensely talented @waywardvessel

@sofibeth-arts

and @morefluid-thanwater!

Working with you three was a pleasure, and I hope you all enjoy the finished piece!

If you'd rather read this on AO3, here's the link!

Without further adieu, I hope you all enjoy ARK Angel :)

Summary: Life is a series of decisions, but what if one had gone differently? What if Amy’s pleas to Shadow on the ARK had fallen on deaf ears, and he hadn’t agreed to save the world? The only thing left to do would be to fight to save the world herself, wouldn’t it?

Discovering Shadow in an abandoned lab hadn’t been on Amy’s to-do list that day, but neither had heading into space, watching Sonic almost die, or anything else from the events of that day. With the Space Colony now plummeting headfirst towards the Earth, it seemed that she would be adding ‘begging Shadow to save the human race’ to her impromptu list of tasks, too.

She’d stopped in the corridor to give herself a pep talk when she’d spotted him - fear having gripped her momentarily at the sight of the pitch-furred hedgehog. After a deep inhale to steel herself, she darted over to him at the window, a fire in her stomach and determination on her face. Every step made her feel like her heart was going to beat out of her chest. He’d been nothing but trouble for her friends up to this point, and whether it had been intentional or not, she couldn’t help but hold it against him. He’d framed Sonic for his wrong-doings, tried to stop them at every turn, and now, he had refused to go with the others when they had rushed to the cannon’s core in an attempt to stop the ARK from destroying their world. She hated to admit it, but deep down, she knew he was the only hope. He was the only one who knew the space colony well enough to do anything meaningful in the time they had left - but getting his help would be no small feat.

“Shadow, we need you!” She yelled, practically tripping over her own feet to come to a halt next to him. She couldn’t back out on her plea now. He would either refuse, or save them all. There were no half measures here.

His eyes - the colour of blood, and just as spine-chilling - swept over the expanse of space before him, turning to her.  “It’s all going according to plan,” he murmured, fixing her on the spot with a withering glare. “There is no reason for me to help them. Besides, there’s no way to save anyone.” 

He was so matter-of-fact. So cold and clinical about so many lives being taken away for a crime committed years ago, by a handful of people who may not even still be alive… Did he not see what he was doing? What he was allowing to unfold? His life so far hadn’t been easy, by any stretch of the imagination, but to destroy the Earth over it?

“There has to be!” She found herself blurting, her fists balled at her chest, “I know that people fight over the most trivial things,” she began, voice wavering and tentative, “Some people…” She continued, trying to pick her words carefully and think before she spoke, as she so often didn’t. Rage would not get the better of Amy Rose today. “…may be selfish like the professor said… But they’re basically good. If they try their best and never give up on their wishes… They always have a reason to be happy.”

The pink hedgehog paused for a moment, trying to gauge Shadow’s reaction to her words so far. His face was hard to read, stoic and brooding as he was, and with the whirlwind of emotions swirling in her head she was struggling to separate the facade of nonchalance from any underlying emotion or sign of doubt. She swallowed hard, brows furrowing, as she put the last pieces of her plea together. Her nails bit into the palms of her hands, a tentative step forward bringing her closer to him as she pleaded, “That’s why you should help them out! Saving them is a good thing! Shadow, I beg you, please do it for them. Give them a chance!”

The lab fell into near silence, the only sounds the beeping of long-abandoned equipment and echoes of Amy’s voice as it faded away in the enormity of the room.

His eyes hadn’t left hers, not for a moment, but now, they flickered over her, regarding her as if this was the first time he had seen her, and she had just asked the world of him. 

Now that she thought about it, that wasn’t far from the truth. 

He turned back to the window. She searched his face for an answer - for even an incline of what he may say - but he gave away nothing. Instead, Shadow closed his eyes.The air felt thin, time seeming to fray and threatening to snap. It couldn’t have been longer than a moment, but to Amy, it felt like eternity. 

Then, his face twisted in a sneer. 

“No.” 

Amy gasped as Shadow’s eyes opened. She could feel the hate wash over her. 

“You talk about what they want, their hopes and dreams and wishes - but what about mine? Am I supposed to give up, to pander to people who have sought to harm me? To use me?” His expression darkened, shifting to something that sent a chill down her spine. “Why should I?” 

He snarled, turning sharply to face her head on. “Why should I save them? These people who, by your own admission, are selfish?”

“That’s not what I-”

“I won’t help them. They can all go to hell!”

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, welling and threatening to fall. She’d shrunk further away from him with each word, feeling less and less like she was capable of changing his mind, and more like she was being scolded for her naivety. Blood rushed in her ears, the pounding of her heart deafening her as the fire she had felt in her stomach was all but put out by his words raining down around her. 

She’d failed. Fallen short. 

But somehow… something told her she couldn’t just give in. Laying down and taking whatever she was given wasn’t her style. Maybe once upon a time, but not now. 

“But Shadow, I know that under all of the pain you're good! I know you-”

“You know nothing!” He spat, quills bristling as a sharp, derisive followed. “You want to save them? Do it yourself.” 

The fire roared. It licked against her insides, boiling her blood and building pressure in her system. It was like her veins were no longer for transporting oxygen - they were a part of a boiler system that was over pressurised, and the safety valve was ripped away. She was ready to blow, and unfortunately for Shadow, he’d blocked the last outlet for her steam. 

She realised what she’d done when the palm of her hand started stinging, and his face snapped towards the glass he stood in front of. She’d slapped him. Hard. So hard, in fact, that there was already a red handprint forming on the side of his muzzle. It looked sore, and any other time, she would have apologised profusely - but the rage that still simmered forbade her from showing remorse. Before he could retaliate, she found herself racing out of the lab and down the hallway in the direction her friends had taken, straight for the Cannon Core.

The soles of her boots on the sheet metal of the floor drummed in her head, seeming to sync with her thundering blood. Every second mattered. Gerald had given them twenty-seven minutes. Some of that time had already slipped through her fingers, so Chaos only knew how long she had now.

The walkway she was on came to a junction, causing her to slow and eventually stop. The corridor had split in two, open doorways yawning to the left and right with no clear indication as to which was the way to the cannon core. To the left, purple walls and strobing lights lit glass floors and moving platforms, while the right glowed an ominous red, the hexagonal pathway seeming to go on forever. 

“Red means danger,” she murmured to no one in particular, taking a tentative step towards the right-hand door. Rings of light seemed to race up the walls towards the entryway. It was almost as if they were trying to push her away and convince her to go down the other route, but that just served to convince Amy that this had to be the right way. Of course the mad scientist who had set the ARK on a crash course with the Earth would want to keep people away from the metaphorical off switch for his plan.

With a quick scan of the corridor she found a rail that ran along the roof, with a handle hanging from it. If it did what she thought it did, it could be a quicker way to traverse the tunnel before her. Manoeuvring herself to see further down the twists and turns and realising she couldn’t see the end, or even the light that might mark it, she concluded that any boost to speed she could give herself would be a welcome one. With that in mind, she backed up a few steps and ran, leaping for the handle. The jolt of inertia was enough to slide along the rail, and before long, she was travelling at a good pace.

The tunnel twisted, throwing her violently in one direction, and then the other, with lights flashing and dissipating all the while. It was making her feel queasy. In desperation, she shut her eyes tight in hopes of a temporary reprieve, but the lights came to a sudden stop. She cracked an eye open, squinting to get a better look at where the light ended, to see where the rail went once the transition to black was made, but with horror she realised it was the open expanse of a new room, cyan sparks of electricity punctuating the otherwise pitch black. The rail came to an abrupt halt, the handle hitting the stop plate at the end with a thunk, and she was flung forward into the empty air. 

Amy shrieked, the possibility that this was her end, not the collision with the Earth, briefly filling her head as she searched for something to grab or land on. Columns hung from the ceiling, too far away for her to use to stop her descent, and all around her was nothing but blackness. A void.

But, as her limbs wheeled, panic rising, she saw the familiar glow of the tunnel she had been launched from. Had she tipped forward? Rolled in the air somehow to look back at where she’d come from? No, she couldn’t have. The columns were still above her - this had to be new. That, and now that she was thinking more critically, this new light was more orange than red. That had to be the way forward.

Below her was a stone outcrop that stopped just before the orange room. That was her target but she was falling fast. Landing wouldn’t be as easy as it sounded. Not without an injury, anyway. 

She’d seen Sonic spindash his way out of situations like this before, but he normally had an enemy to aim for. Whoever had been here before had done a good job of clearing out any hostiles - too good a job. If she could just slow her fall somehow, then she could land without fear of breaking a leg - or worse. 

Then it hit her. Her hammer. She’d used it before to make a small wind tunnel. If she could just time it properly, she could decelerate just before she made contact with the ground. 

She held out her hands, her signature hammer appearing in her grip with a plume of smoke that was quickly whisked away as she gained speed. Once her vision cleared, she took stock again. She needed to act in five… four… three… two-

Panic struck her. She’d over estimated. The ground was approaching faster than she had expected. Eyes wide, veins icy with dread, she hefted the hammer, swinging it as hard and fast as she could in a circular motion.

A gust of air caught her. She slowed. And, with only a few quills windswept and out of place, she landed. With a deep exhale, shoulders dropping in relief, she allowed herself a moment to gather herself before taking on the next section of her journey.

Amy shook herself. She had to get moving again - the ARK was still plummeting. The Earth was still in danger. And, as much as she trusted and admired Sonic, she wasn’t sure  he could do it on his own this time. 

The path ahead was maybe ten feet long before it dropped into a chasm. Why there was such a large pit inside a space colony, she didn’t know, but it was going to be difficult to get over. A running start wouldn’t go amiss, but even an olympic long jumper would have trouble with a gap so wide. 

Absently, she hefted the hammer, flipping it in her hand as she puzzled over her dilemma. If only she could use something like an enemy as a stepping stone, or-

She paused, closely inspecting the hammer in her hand. An idea flickered in her mind like a lightbulb. That might just do it. 

She shook out her arms and hands, leaning forward and focusing on the glow of the next room. This jump had only two outcomes - suicide or success - and she had to have the confidence to make sure it was the latter. 

Rearing back and filling her lungs with the stagnant air of the chamber, Amy committed to her stunt, surging forward and charging at the crevasse. Her whole body felt like it was pulsing. Between her heartbeat, the cadence of her feet and adrenaline, she didn’t know which to blame.

As the end of the stone walkway approached, her mind’s eye replaced it with the white line of a long jump pit, and a yell tore from her throat. She threw herself into the abyss, leaping with all the strength she could in hopes that it would reduce how long she would have to spin her hammer. It was a new skill  after all, so the less she had to rely on it, the better.

She sailed through the air, the grip on her hammer turning her knuckles white; it would sting once she let go, but she was too terrified of dropping it. There was still so far to go, so much nothing to cross over, but she could feel that her fall had begun. 

With everything she had, Amy swung the hammer, letting herself twist with it in the air and hoping to land on solid ground. 

One, 

Two, 

Three full rotations, and she could feel herself getting dizzy. Keeping her eyes open had been a mistake for her stomach, which churned and protested, but she wouldn’t know when to stop otherwise. 

Four,

Five

Six rotations. The longer she spun, the more she felt like maybe she’d missed the edge, and was just spiralling into the void of nothing below, but something told her that she had to persevere. There seemed to be more and more orange in her blurry view of the world, which surely meant was at least close to the other side. 

One… 

More… 

Turn… 

She slowed, stopped, and staggered, the world still spinning even though she wasn’t. She’d made it. Her idea, insane as it was, had worked, and as her vision cleared the orange glow she had aimed for snapped into focus. What had once been an octagonal tunnel, now squared off with panels of glass, pulsed with amber light. 

Her heels clicked a staccato against the floor as she wobbled away from her landing spot, head swimming and hands shaky. Amy’s grip on her hammer faltered, the weapon slipping from her fingers and disappearing in a puff of smoke, and all she could do was watch. Much more effort might bring about another appearance of her breakfast, which wasn’t something she was keen to experience.

With each step, the haze of dizziness cleared. It was like she was wading through the last of a thick fog, finally emerging into the light of day. Unfortunate that the daylight in question was only the rest of the room, not the end of her journey, but at least the end was approaching. 

The back of the room split off into a T junction. To the right was a dead end, while the left path gave way to a room of shifting, spinning cubes and display panels that showed only the same amber light of the previous rooms swishing back and forth.

Now that her stomach had settled, Amy risked picking up the pace, following the corridor as it curved to the right. Cubes tumbled in the air, bathing her in their warm glow - but she had no time to enjoy it. Chaos only knew how long she had left before the ARK would collide with the Earth -or if she’d be able to stop the collision - but she had to try. Just because Shadow had refused to help, that didn’t mean she had to accept her fate. She could do this. She had to believe she could, because if she couldn’t, then-

The familiar sound of her heels on glass gave way to sloshing and a low buzzing sound. She’d been so preoccupied with her fate, so focused on her goal that she hadn’t realised she was in a new area. Three inches of fluid lapped against the soles of her shoes, the translucent amber liquid looking like it belonged in a reactor, not on the floor. The unnatural, tangerine hue almost gave her pause, but as she splashed through it she found herself having to think fast once more. 

Lazers and a metal barrier barred her way. She estimated that she would be able to slide under the barricade if she timed it right, and that the chance of getting the amber liquid on her skin - or worse, in her eyes or mouth - was worth the risk. She sped up, running until she was maybe two feet away from the lazer-wall and dropping into a slide.

Her nose grazed the metal, but she was under, and otherwise unharmed. Much to her relief, the liquid that coated the floor didn’t seem to be acidic, either, but for the time being that was the least of her concerns. 

Before her was a six foot wall, edged in the same metal as the barrier was made of, and no other direction to go. She knew she couldn’t jump that high. If she were lucky, and had a decent start, she might be able to get enough of a grip with her fingers to haul herself up. Possibles and maybes didn’t save the world, she knew, but neither did people who didn’t at least try against the odds. 

Backtracking as close to the lasers as she dared, she eyed the run-up she’d given herself. It should be enough.

Would be enough.

Had to be enough.

Filling her lungs, she rocked back. A fizzing sound and the smell of burning quills rolled over her. Too far. With a flinch and a quick pat of the affected area, she squared her shoulders, and took another deep breath…

Before running full speed at the wall. 

She charged, picking up as much speed as she dared before hurling herself upwards towards the ledge.

Her body slammed into the wall, chest and ribs screaming with the impact, but the tips of her fingers had caught on the ledge, holding her against the frigid surface. She wheezed in a breath, grimacing as she did, and walked the fingers of one hand onto the ledge until her palm sat against it. She repeated the process once she was sure her grip was sound, slowly grappling her way onto the surface until she was able to swing a leg up and roll onto the floor, panting with the exertion.  

Amy wanted to stay there. Sprawled on the floor, where the fate of the world wasn’t in her hands, and nothing more was needed of her, but she couldn’t do that. Even if Sonic could do this without her, she was sick of being the extra. The back up. The ‘just in case’. But not any more. That was going to change. 

She staggered to her feet, bathed in the crimson glow of the next corridor. It looked so similar to the first, but even though it had only been a few minutes since, that first rail ride felt a lifetime away. 

She crossed the threshold at a run, feeling the slope of the floor dip down towards the heart of the ARK. She was ready for this. She was going to make a difference.

The ground levelled out sharply, more of the amber swill from a few rooms ago coming into view in a roiling torrent past a sheer drop - one that she knew now that she could traverse with ease, thanks to her hammer. With a hop, skip, and a jump, she launched herself into the air, and realised just how far she would need to go.

From this angle, she saw that the orange flow rushed towards her, cascading down and away from where she assumed she needed to be. But, it plateaued - and presumably, flowed in the opposite direction on the other side. 

Smoke billowed around her as the hammer materialised, but quickly dispersed as she spun in the practised cyclone that had delivered her safely across the chasm before.

The world around her was a blur, flashes of colour and light that only made sense when she broke from the tornado she had created and let herself take it all in. She could see now that she had been right about the flow of water. It did flow the other way, with an equally steep slope that flowed into a pipe. That had to be it. The inlet to the canon core. 

Her trajectory landed her just past the section of level ground, a few paces into the decline, and the flow swept her off her feet with a splash. Control would be hard won, she realised, as her form took the path of least resistance, swerving from left to right at an increasingly alarming pace. When her body started to rotate, threatening to have her careen down the space-age log flume head first, she felt her heart skip a beat. Relinquishing the control of her direction was one thing, but her orientation was something that wasn’t up for debate. 

Small adjustments to compensate for the swivel seemed to keep her facing the right direction, much to her relief. “Thank Gaia,” she found herself whispering, hoping that her small praise would be enough to convince any higher power that she was grateful for this mercy, and to continue sending it her way. 

A crackle filled the air, the sound of an intercom creaking to life. Amy glanced around to find the speaker, even though she knew it would be of no use to her to know where it was. She was left only with the sound of a vaguely familiar voice echoing around the pipe she was stuck in.

“All of you ungrateful humans,” it began, tone foreboding and morose. Was that… the scientist? The one who had made Shadow? “Who took everything from me…” It was! A recording of him couldn’t mean anything good. She found herself searching frantically for an exit; Something in her chest told her she needed to get out of this tunnel. “Will feel my loss, and despair!”

As the last of Gerald's announcement ricocheted around her, her body was thrown around the curve of the pipe and light winked into existence in front of her. It was the end of the water way, she realised, but not quickly enough to avoid being dumped onto the floor unceremoniously.

She groaned, checking where her limbs had contacted the ground for any signs of damage - it was mostly small cuts and scrapes, but she had the feeling there would be bruises in more places tomorrow - and dusted herself down, rising to her feet cautiously.

There it was. The cannon core. And between her and it were Sonic, Knuckles, and- 

“What in Chaos’ name is that!?” Amy shrieked. She had seen some sights in her time, but this? It was grotesque. Calling it anything else fell short of the true horror of the lumbering beast that shook the ground with each step. Its skin seemed to pool around its joints and feet, like it had an excess of it that refused to slough off despite its best efforts. Tubes protruded from all over its body at odd angles, leaving wounds that looked jagged and inflamed, ready to rupture at any moment. 

The least offensive part of this behemoth was the canister on its back full of fluorescent green liquid that sloshed with every movement, the glow it provided highlighting the folds and wrinkles of the too-loose skin that covered its body.

Between the disgusting lifeform in front of her and the fear writhing like a snake in her stomach, retaining her lunch had become no easy feat. But, she was convinced that adrenaline was the only thing keeping her from vomiting.

“Amy!? What are you doing here!?” Sonic yelled, incredulity and fear clear in the crack of his voice.

“I asked Shadow to help us, and he refused,” she proffered, holding her hands out and summoning her Piko Piko hammer. “So I came to help instead.”

“No, no way,” the blue hedgehog said, shaking his head. “You need to go back and-” 

A roar interrupted him, the beast clearly annoyed that it was being ignored.

“We don’t have time to argue!” She spat back, hefting the hammer and looking to Knuckles for back up. If anyone would understand, it would be him.

The echidna looked between his friends, knowing that by supporting Amy, he would put her in harm’s way, but by supporting Sonic, he would give Amy the impression he didn’t believe she was capable of helping them. He gave an irritated sigh, and turned to Sonic. “She’s right, we have to get the Master Emerald into that shrine now or we’re all toast! Amy,” he turned to her, violet eyes burning, “You need to keep that thing busy while Sonic and I get to the shrine - think you can do that?”

She nodded curtly, her expression settling into one of conviction as she focused on the monster that lumbered towards them now, trying to decide if she was insane for agreeing to this, or brave for even trying. For now, she would go with the latter.

As her friends raced for the shrine, a heaviness settled on her chest. Her blood felt cold, like she'd had a bucket of water dumped over her and the raging inferno she had stoked when she began this journey had been drowned. This thing was horrifying. Even its movements seemed unnatural, like its muscles weren't intended for its skeleton, and every stuttering step made the loose skin of its joints undulate sickeningly.

She choked back the bile that rose in her throat, refusing to take her eyes off it on principle alone. It probably already knew she was terrified, already knew that she wanted to turn tail and run until her lungs screamed for her to stop - but she wouldn’t. Not today. 

Her hammer felt leaden in her grip. The weight of the world, of her friends lives, of her own future - they all seemed present in its heft. She took a shaky step forward, feeling the fear rise but knowing she couldn't let it overwhelm her. Another step followed the first, the façade of confidence settling over her like a warm, comforting blanket. 

This was it. Her chance to prove herself. “Never fear,” she began, swiping the hammer to her side and shifting her weight to run. “Amy Rose is here!”

The biolizard lunged for her, snapping its toothless maw. If she were any slower, it would have crushed her arm.

She ran to the right, hoping for an opening where she could hit it hard enough to at least give it pause. But the beast lumbered after her, pivoting in the shallow puddle of water it wallowed in and sending ripples over the lip with each thunderous step. 

Keeping a distance between her and its mouth was Amy's top priority. Visions of what would become of her if she didn't played in her mind, and she had to physically shake her head to banish the thoughts. She needed adrenaline. Optimism. Not fear.

Amy stole a glance over her shoulder. She hadn't covered much ground, but already the monster seemed to be tiring. Its breathing was heavy. Laboured. Ragged. 

How was it so tired after barely moving? 

That was exactly it, it turned out. The thing barely could move, and so what little it had already managed was a gargantuan task for its body. If she could exhaust it - however briefly - that would be an advantage, one that was sorely needed.

With that in mind, Amy re-doubled her efforts, antagonising the beast by shouting over her shoulder at it. The lumbering started to slow, and it wasn't long before the biolizard came to a halt. 

Steam seemed to billow from its mouth with each exhale, and each inhale seemed hard won. There it was. The opening she needed.

Skidding almost to a stop, she pivoted on a heel and ran at its side, torn for a moment on where to hit it. The side was easily accessible, fleshy, and likely to do some internal damage if she could hit it hard enough, but the pipes that wound around its form gave her pause. They had to have a purpose. Transporting something, most likely - something that it needed, or else its creator wouldn't have left them there. 

Those pipes all seemed to converge on its back. Whatever they held was either flowing to or from there.

Hoping her guess was correct, Amy leapt. Her mind flashed back to her leap of faith across the chasm. But she had overcome that, just like she would overcome this. 

She crested the mass of crimson flesh, her boot slipping on loose skin as she landed. The shaky breaths beneath her shifted the pipes she'd followed. Just as she thought, they all appeared to connect to a device on its back.

That had to be it. 

A yellow glow pulsated atop the machine, growing brighter with each inhale, and dimming with each exhale. Surely, that wasn't a coincidence? It had to be a life support - or have at least some impact on the biolizard's continued life.

Having convinced herself, she did what she always did when all that stood between her and victory was a metal box. 

She swung her hammer at it.

The familiar crunch of her hammer connecting with metal brought a smile to her lips. The device crackled with electricity, pops and fizzes an audible indicator of broken connections. 

Beneath her, the biolizard screamed, its cry akin to a yowling cat, and shook itself violently enough to throw her to the ground. 

She skidded across the paved pathway, scraping her shoulder in the process. But as pain pulsed through her, she couldn't help but wonder how it had been so easy to defeat something that had been touted as the ultimate life form.

And then it moved. 

Toothless jaws snapped at her, missing by mere inches. She flinched away, scrambling to her feet and bolting away. 

This time, the biolizard didn't make a move towards her though. It's feet were planted firmly in the murky orange pool, and no sloshing could be heard.

What she did hear, though, was scarier than any eerie silence. It was like a blockage being cleared from a pipe at high velocity, a resounding poh noise, followed by stone crunching and skittering away.

It took every ounce of courage she had to turn and look behind her. 

A ball of what she could only describe as shadows tore towards her, purple energy crackling across its surface like lightning. 

she threw herself out of the way, keeping her eyes trained on the monster. Its maw opened again, energy swelling in its throat, and another popping sound exploded from it, firing the orb at her.

There would be no more wearing it out. The shadows seemed capable of following her, this new ball proved, as it swerved towards her at frightening speed. Dodging was the only option.‘Think, Amy! Think, think, think!’ She chastised, eyes darting across the beast in hopes of finding an answer.

To her surprise, she found it - a cord that ran from its mouth to its back. If she was fast, and careful, she could get to its back from there to do some more damage, and avoid the shadows at the same time.

There was no time to second guess herself. Raising her hammer again, she charged, side-stepping the second orb in the nick of time. A yell tore from her throat, half from terror and half from the rising sensation in her chest that goaded her to do better, to be better - to be a hero. 

She reached the cable just as a third ball started forming. With precision achieved by pure adrenaline, she made her first step onto the tube, following quickly by her second. It felt surreal. The narrowing of her focus to include only the pound of her veins, her boots on the wire as she barrelled up to its back. Her foot had been on its back for hardly a heartbeat when she slammed her hammer into the side of the still crackling unit. 

The casing cracked open, chips of metal spraying from the gash. She hefted the hammer back over her head, slamming it down onto the orange dome.

Glass shattered, spraying her with shards that sliced at her arms and cheeks. She hissed, the tiny cuts stinging individually and as one, the sensation overwhelming. 

A familiar rage built. One she’d experienced a thousand times before but never quite this intensely. She swung again, and again, the crumpling sound mixing with the yowling to create a truly ear-splitting cacophony. But in her rage, everything had quieted. 

When the world pitched, it took a moment for her to realise why. The biolizard was shaking, trying to throw her off, but as she fell, her hammer caught on one of the pipes, jolting her to a stop.

Another yowl, the tugging clearly causing it at least some discomfort. She could feel the noise in her bones, the vibrations rattling her. But this could be worse. In fact, this could be a fantastic opportunity to end this whole thing, here and now. 

Bracing her feet against its side, boots sliding on skin too big for its frame, she pulled.

The cable popped out of the socket, spraying amber ichor as it flailed, and for what she hoped was the last time today, she hit the ground. 

She rolled away, knowing that she needed to dissipate the inertia if she wanted to walk away from this encounter rather than limp. Now that her hearing had returned, she could tell just how distressed it really was. The screaming and sloshing as it thrashed in what she assumed was agony was deafening - but it seemed like her ordeal was over. Now she just needed Sonic and Knuckles to get the chaos emerald back out of the shrine and-

Cobalt lightning crackled around the shrine, the master emerald pulsing with power and spinning in place. A flash of blinding light painted the chamber white and Amy threw up her arms to shield her eyes.

Before she risked opening them again, though, a roar shook her to the bone. It was the same sound as the Biolizard had made when she’d damaged it, only lower pitched. 

She whirled, hammer in hand ready to deal what she hoped was the killing blow, and was met not with the defeated form she had left, but one that had reared back to let out one last yell. With the beast on its back legs the looseness of its skin was more prominent, the disproportionate nature of its form more obvious. The pressure it was exerting on its stubby legs made them shake, the open wounds all over its body weeping, blood and pus running over the ripples and folds of its body. 

Her stomach churned, but before her mind could comprehend the truely sickening parts of its visage, a flash of blue enveloped it, and it was gone.

Turning back to the shrine, she took the steps two at a time, reaching Sonic and Knuckles at the Master Emerald’s plinth. “What was that?”

Sonic opened his mouth to speak, but the answer never came. The ARK pitched to the side, the artificial gravity of the ship momentarily failing, suspending them above the ground. “Since we’ve stopped the Chaos Emeralds… why is the space colony still on a crash course to Earth?” Knuckles managed before gravity kicked back in, throwing him, Sonic, and Amy to the ground.

“The prototype is still alive, and he’s controlling the space colony as its falling to Earth!” Eggman announced through the ARK’s communication system. This new information settled like a brick in Amy’s stomach as the trio staggered to their feet. She’d failed to kill the biolizard, and now, it was going to destroy the Earth anyway. All that she’d been through, all that she’d done… It was all for nothing, after all. “He’s become one with the space colony, and is determined to keep it on its collision course!”

Dumbfounded, she looked to Knuckles. He was the guardian of the Master Emerald - surely, there was something he could do? But the echidna wasted no time in turning to Sonic. The blue blur stared his friend down for a beat, his grass-green eyes flickering to Amy and back, as if considering something but discounting it before it had even had time to gestate. “I need to go super,” the hedgehog announced, taking a step towards the master Emerald. “But I don’t know if I can do this on my own.”

Her body moved before her mind could catch it. The pink hedgehog stepped forward, hammer evaporating into smoke, hands balling to fists. “Let me try, too!” There was no room for argument in her tone, but that didn’t stop her blue beau from trying.

“Ames, no, you can’t-”

“You don’t know that! Just because I haven’t before doesn’t mean I can’t!” His eyes were wide with shock, and something else. Awe, she hoped, but equally it could have been disbelief. When he sighed and held his hand out for her to take, though, she knew it didn’t matter. He was going to let her try, and that meant that at the very least, he believed there was a chance.

She took it, the pair raising their hands above their heads and studying the ceiling of the shrine. Like icicles forming on a window sill, their energy seeped from the stonework, forming the seven gems that had started this mess, and would give them the power to end it.

The emeralds descended, hovering for a moment before spinning faster and faster around them.

She could feel it. The tumultuous power, crashing into her like waves. The eddies lapped at her, like ice water around her ankles, and rose steadily until she thought she might drown. The emeralds were moving so fast now that they were a blur. It was impossible to tell one from another. Another wave of chaos energy crashed into her, almost knocking her to her knees - but she stood strong in its onslaught, feeling the cold sink past her skin, chill her blood and freeze her bones. 

White light flashed from between them, hands separating as the power split. Sonic glowed with the golden light of his super form, and Amy too shone, but with a rose-tinted gold of her own. The frigid chill of chaos energy was nothing like her own rage. So alien, so… different. So… other. It was somehow both exhilarating and terrifying. 

Sonic seemed to take it all in his stride - but then, he had been super before, hadn’t he? She’d always wondered what it felt like, and now that she had experienced it, she could understand how he used this power to save the world all those times before.  

Sonic shot her his signature cocky grin, pointing to the roof. Up and out. She nodded, and the duo crouched in unison, extending their legs as if to jump, but instead shooting clean through the walls of the cannon core. 

When Eggman had informed them that the biolizard had ‘become one’ with the ARK, Amy had been sure that he was exaggerating. The truth, however, was much more horrifying than she’d imagined.

Its flesh had wrapped itself around the muzzle of the eclipse cannon, the once loose folds of skin stretching and contorting to accommodate its new metal appendage. It was dragging the space colony with it, under what steam she didn’t know, and was headed straight for the planet she called home. 

“Sonic, Amy! Can you hear me?” Eggman’s voice boomed. “He’s very weak without his life support system. Aim for the red swellings to damage him! You’re our last hope!”

Weak without his life support… Her hunch had been right! The device was keeping it alive, and now, with the machine broken, they at least had a chance of winning. 

The hedgehogs shared a knowing look - one that held the promise to win, or die trying - and shared a definitive nod. 

Sonic blasted off, a trail of light marking his path as he weaved towards the monster. It was slow, cumbersome, but even so, if one of its limbs connected… she dreaded to think what the damage could be. 

They had to do this quickly.

As Sonic ploughed into the first of the swellings, bursting through the thin layer of skin, Amy realised that she hadn’t moved. She’d been staring, horrified at what was in front of her. 

She shook herself, furrowing her brows. She couldn’t just float here and do nothing. 

It didn’t take long to find another of the sores Eggman had mentioned - the thing was riddled with them - but before she pushed off to make her first attack, something caught her eye. 

Beneath its mass, a glow was building. Amethyst and ruby and aquamarine. It was mesmerising, and as it roiled and grew, she wondered what is was. 

Her question was answered as the orb grew and stretched out towards her, a beam of searing energy missing her by mere inches. It was danger. It was pain. It was certain death. 

A fire having been lit under her, she flew in a wide arc towards the pustule she was now aiming for, careful to keep an eye out for the beam of energy now that she knew it was capable of such a feat. The closer she got, though, the more its flailing limbs and snapping jaws made her hesitate. Even with her super form, the hurdle of failure loomed large above her, every time she hadn’t been strong enough, or fast enough playing on repeat in her mind. 

She rolled out of the way as one of its arms thrashed at her, the disorientation of unfamiliar momentum causing her to bounce off its scaly hide and careen down its spine to float to a halt only a meter or so before it merged with the ARK. 

Silently, she cursed herself. How could she help Sonic to kill this thing if she couldn’t even get close enough to its weak spots to do anything? 

It was then that she spotted it - the blistered skin just past the curve of its side. A glance to its head confirmed that the beast was preoccupied with Sonic, and from this angle, it wouldn’t be able to get her with the beam until it was too late - for it, at least. 

With speed she hadn’t possessed before the boost of the Chaos Emeralds, she launched herself around and ploughed into the thin, inflamed skin. It burst with enough force to fire her towards its head, her inert body tumbling head over heels at speed. In space, there was no friction to slow her, no end in sight to the vomit-inducing spinning. Not, at least, without some intervention.

From seemingly no where, its huge head swung towards her faster than it had any right to be capable of. She lifted her arms to cross over her face defensively knowing that she hadn’t the time to move, and was launched by the force of its nose connecting with her ribs.

She was like a pinball in a machine  - moving at blinding speed with a trajectory that would inevitably result in collision.

And collide she did.

The ARK loomed large as she careened towards it, her form tumbling in the vast emptiness of space. Dizziness crept in on her, but before it could take hold, pain blossomed across her back and shoulder.

She’d slammed into the ARK, and from the crunching and crackling coming from behind her, she’d likely hit a window. That, or she’d done more damage to herself than she thought.

“Ouch,” she whimpered. The sound was half-reflexive, half-genuine, as she cradled the shoulder that had taken the brunt of the hit. “That thing really packs a punch…”

With a groan, she propped herself up on her elbows, watching as Sonic ploughed into the beast that had just thrown her like a ragdoll. She felt so useless. Managing to absorb enough Chaos energy to transform had been a shock, as had defending herself against the prototype of Shadow before it had teleported outside, but even now, after all of those achievements she was starting to feel like she wasn’t enough to fix this. 

Her nails bit into her palms even through the padding of her gloves. Giving up was the easy route, the one she’d sworn she’d abandoned back when she’d helped Gamma fight its programming. She had to keep trying, or else what had all of this been for? 

She took a long, slow inhale, filling her lungs to the brim and holding the breath for a second to centre herself, then released it in a steady, foggy stream. The world needed saving, and while she trusted that Sonic would do his best, she didn’t want him falling short because she’d thrown in the towel.

Gingerly, she rolled onto her stomach, aware of every slight movement as pinpricks of pain rolled through her. Were it not for the lack of gravity, she wondered if she would even have managed that, let alone bring her knees up to kneel on the observation deck window.Now that she’d been given the chance to stop, the adrenaline that had brought her this far was waning and the exhaustion was starting to creep in. Maintaining a super form was so tiring… how did Sonic do this?

Knowing that she couldn’t let herself be swept to shore, that she had to stay in the sea of energy until the danger had passed, she forced herself to open her eyes. At first, all she saw was her own reflection staring back at her through a spiderweb of cracks in the glass. But, as her eyes adjusted, she saw something else. Someone else. 

Shadow. And he was staring back at her, looking like he’d seen a ghost.

He’d underestimated her ability, just like everyone else did, and had expected her to perish long before this point. That had to be it.

One, last act of defiance, then. Before she ended this fight and did what so many thought was impossible for her. 

She pushed herself off the window of the lab, threw her arms behind her, and stuck her tongue out at the ultimate lifeform with gusto, before turning and flying back to where Sonic was fighting the biolizard.

 It was childish, she knew, but his perception of her was the last thing she was worried about right now.

More of the pustules that covered the lizard had been ruptured, she noted, which felt like it would at least help. If this behemoth was capable of feeling pain, it had to be in agony by now. Wounds wept, blood and pus and chaos energy oozing from each and every one. This thing, relentless as it was, had to be put out of its misery.

She balled her fists, ready to weave her way towards the monster and hit more of its sores. Sonic had managed to destroy so many of them, and she didn’t want to end up as just the distraction again. She’d done so much today, been through so much. Now wasn’t the time to trip over the hurdle.

She flew towards the beast, feeling every injury she’d sustained so far screaming at her to stop, that she’d done enough, and she could call herself a hero now. But heroes didn’t give up just because they had a few bruises and cuts, or because they’d been thrown around like a rag doll. Heroes kept going. 

With the lack of resistance from the expanse of space, she gained speed quickly, tearing through the chasm between her and her target, but in her periphery, something caught her attention. A white-gold glow - not Sonic’s gold, nor her own rose-gold, but a new one. 

It was Shadow, and he was in his super form. 

“What- what are you-”

“This thing is my prototype,” he began, his blood-red eyes focused on the biolizard. “It’s time I prove my superiority.”

He burst forward, leaving her to trail behind as he slammed into one of the sores at speed she struggled to see, let alone emulate, and when he was thrown backwards by the force of its skin splitting, he didn’t pause to look for another. He used the arc of his trajectory to fly around it, looking for another spot to damage.

This was the difference between her and real fighters, she thought to herself. For all she knew, this was Shadow’s first time in a super form too. And he was dealing with it so much better than she was. Granted, he didn’t need to fight so hard to change the direction he moved in with the help of his air shoes, but something about the ease with which he moved, the confidence… she was jealous. 

“Can both of you hear me!?” Eggman yelled. There was panic in his voice, and Amy couldn’t in good conscious say she blamed him for it. “Atmosphere entry in about 4 minutes! Hurry!”

There it was. Four minutes. 240 seconds. Barely any time left to save the world. 

She summoned her hammer, determined not to fall behind. It felt so light to her now, with chaos energy coursing through her veins, but that just meant she could put more of her strength into the swing.

There was a pustule where its skin met the ARK that Sonic and Shadow seemed to have missed. She pivoted towards it, swinging her hammer above her head ready to deal her first blow. As soon as she was close enough, the hammer smashed into the skin, eliciting a screech of pain from the beast as it thrashed in agony. It swung its clawed hands at Sonic, missing by at least three feet, and did the same to Shadow, failing to catch him with its claws. 

Its head whipped around, more sluggish than it had been when it had thrown her into the observation deck window, and the motion tore its skin.

Now that she looked more closely, the movement of its arms had torn the skin at its shoulders, too.

It was falling apart, right in front of their eyes. 

Sonic and Shadow looked frantically for another swelling to hit, another weak point to attack, but their lack of movement told her they found nothing. The end was nigh.

Amy floated to the broken device on its back, seeing that it still crackled and fizzed with electricity even now. The wires that remained attached still trailed its body, inert and empty of life-giving energy. She jammed the handle of her hammer under the unit, using the head as a lever, and separated the metal oval from the biolizard with a crunch. She reeled back.

The hammer connected with the unit, sending it careening towards the biolizard’s head, tearing the wires out of itself, or out of the biolizards skin. 

The explosions from it started small. The size of a basketball, perhaps, or a little larger, but they seemed to set off a chain reaction.

The three hedgehogs dispersed, re-convening to watch as the monster went up in flames.

It was dead. The Earth was safe.

They’d done what had felt impossible just fifteen minutes ago.

As the three of them regarded each other, Sonic and Amy looking battered, bruised, and exhausted, they couldn’t help but smile. “We did it…” Amy breathed, releasing her hammer for it to disperse into smoke.

“We did,” Sonic beamed. There was something in his smile - relief, maybe, and pride - that she hadn’t expected. She’d thought he was so sure they could do this. He’d given no reason for her to think otherwise. But it seemed as though he hadn’t been as confident as she’d thought.

Shadow huffed, crossing his arms and turning his gaze to Amy. “Was that outcome in doubt?” To him, it seemed as though it wasn’t. Like the moment he was involved in something, it would go exactly as he planned.

“Heh, maybe not,” Sonic said. His smile grew wider, another small laugh escaping him, before he pointed to the ARK with his thumb. “We’d best get back, or the others will wonder what happened!”

He was gone before either of them could speak. Amy turned to Shadow, ready to chastise Sonic in his absence, but found that the surly being was staring intently at her. She couldn’t meet his eyes, instead looking away and scratching at the side of her head.

She’d slapped him, made faces at him, and now, it seemed, she owed him an apology. But first, she had to ask him something.

“What made you decide to help?” She blurted, chancing a glance at him and finding that he was still staring. His eyes flickered away from her then, though - the smallest hint of embarrassment on his face.

“I… I don’t know.” He said, but with the way his eyes searched the speckled sky, she wasn’t so sure that was the whole truth. “Maybe your words just needed time to sink in.”

All she could muster was a tired smile. She wished she could be more energetic, her usual enthusiastic self, about this change of heart. But everything was taking its toll. She was exhausted. She could feel her eyes fluttering, and she ached everywhere. “Well, I’m glad you came to your senses, Shadow,” she managed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We couldn’t have done it… without… you…”

The world seemed to blur. The stars that had been so sharp, so defined, only moments ago. Now, they looked like street lamps through a rainy window, particles dancing in ways she knew couldn’t be real, but they mesmerised her all the same. It made her realise just how tired she was. How leaden her limbs felt. If she could just… close… her eyes…

They closed for a moment, the white-gold of Shadow’s super form disappearing and reappearing further away. But he didn’t seem to be moving. He was facing the ARK, but the jets of his shoes were off, and his posture hadn’t changed from when she had last seen him.

Ah. She was the one moving. She could see it now. Her own glow was gone, and the stars were getting smaller. She was falling. Falling towards the Earth. And worst of all, she didn’t even had the energy to panic. The bliss of exhaustion had fogged her mind, and falling felt like the rest she needed.

She blinked again. The white-gold of Shadow’s form was closer now. Had she stopped falling? No, something told her that she was still plummeting. Maybe it was the angle he was at? She wasn’t sure.

The only thing she knew for certain was that he looked terrified. Ruby eyes were wide, mouth open in a yell, gloved hand outstretched as if he were begging for her to take it. But she couldn’t. It was too much. She was too tired. 

The world went dark.

Everything ached. Her back, her shoulder, her legs. Everything. Even her eyelids seemed to ache, but she needed to open them. The murmuring around her was deafeningly loud and too quiet for her to understand all at once, with a peal of piercing ringing permeating both. Would the light of the world be that bit too much? The thing that overwhelmed her senses? She hoped not. She needed to know if they’d succeeded - if the biolizard was dead. Somewhere in the soupyness of her waking mind, she thought they had - but everything was fuzzy from the point she’d hit the ARK.

Cautiously, she cracked an eyelid open slowly, testing her surroundings in the smallest increment possible. Once one eye was fully open, she chanced the other. Everything was so blurry. The blobs of colour that crowded around her reminded her of her friends. Blue, yellow, red… and white, too. The bat that had helped them was that shade of white, she recalled. Rouge, was it? That sounded right. 

Her head lolled towards the blue smear, each blink sharpening her unfocused gaze. 

“Did… we win?” She croaked, voice hoarse. 

“Ames! You’re awake!” Sonic rushed to kneel beside her, brows drawn in concern and worry in his eyes as they came into view. “How you feelin’?”

This was the most attentive he’d ever been, she thought to herself. It was… nice. The attention from her crush. But something about it didn’t feel as good as she always thought it would. She must have hit her head harder than she thought. 

“I’m fine.” She sounded so weak. “I guess I have you to thank for that, though.” She managed a smile as he helped her to her feet, almost falling when her knee gave way and he caught her. The worry seemed to spread on his features, but he was trying to mask it. She could tell, from the way he tried to force his face back into the cocky grin he usually sported. 

“Nah, Ames,” he breathed. “We were almost beat, but then Shadow showed up and finished the thing off. I started back to the ship, and then…” the words died in his throat, his green eyes shifting guiltily before he turned to look to his left, away from the observation deck windows and towards the shadows that enveloped the entrance to the room. “You… you passed out. And Shadow saved you. He caught you before you - before you fell.”

It was all coming back to her now. His face as he hurtled towards her, eyes wide and full of fear. 

She followed Sonic’s gaze, her own settling on the hedgehog who was mostly obfuscated by the dark. Shadow. He’d saved her life, even after what she’d said, what she’d done - oh, Gaia, she’d slapped him, hadn’t she? 

Her legs felt like jelly again. Of all the individuals to piss off, she’d chosen Shadow, and not only that, but it seemed like he’d forgiven her too. You didn’t save someone you disliked, did you? But then, he had saved the humans, or at least helped to, and he claimed to hate them. 

“I- I see.” She choked out. She swallowed hard and chewed nervously on her lip. She had to apologise. That had to be the first thing she said to him. But how do you do that? Maybe ‘sorry for slapping you for trying to blow up the Earth’ was enough, she wondered, but shook the thought from her head. As soon as she could stand on her own, she needed to have an answer. 

“Yeah, it was weird,” Sonic mused, bringing her out of her thoughts and back to the real world. “By the time I realised, he was already half way to you, and he looked-”

“Worried,” Amy said, and he nodded in agreement.

Amy sighed. Of all the things she’d had to do today, of all the fears she’d faced… Apologising to, and thanking, the one who’d saved her seemed to be the hardest one. 

She tested putting her weight on her legs. A part of her was pleased that any damage wasn’t permanent, but a small part of her still dreaded the conversation she was about to have. With a weak smile to Sonic, she limped over to her saviour. 

He was sat against a wall, seeming to be fixated on a spot in the middle of the floor with a barely perceptible frown on his brows.

“Hey.”

He startled, and jerked his head up to meet her eyes.

“Hello.” His gaze was… intense. A vermillion blaze that felt like it would burn her where she stood. But this time, the heat was… comforting. Like a blanket on a cold night, or… like her own, well restrained rage that burned below the surface. He was like her, she realised. Someone who held part of themselves at bay for fear it would be too much. 

He motioned to the ground next to him. She swallowed hard again, hurrying to settle against the wall and almost forgetting to tuck her dress under her. As she settled, glancing over to her friends who hurried to pretend they hadn’t been staring, her usually steady hands shook.

She didn’t look at him initially. She was too ashamed of herself, and it seemed like he had no desire to break the silence either. 

“I’m sorry I-”

“I shouldn’t have-” 

They spoke in unison, stopping as soon as they realised they were talking over each other. Silence fell again. After a few moments, he waved her on. 

Her throat felt dry. She knew that he didn’t hold her actions against her. He wouldn’t have saved her if he really disliked her. But navigating this conversation would be difficult regardless. She fiddled with the hem of her skirt. “What made you do it?” She began, chancing a look at him. Those eyes were upon her again, those eyes that simmered with an anger that she now understood was not for her. “I mean- what… Why did you come and help me and Sonic? I thought that you… that you wanted the Earth to be destroyed?”

His gaze lingered for a moment, shifting from one eye to the other and then cutting away to look back at the floor. “Humans are awful.” The silence that dragged out made her think that perhaps he wanted her to say something, but she didn’t know what. “I would have had no remorse if they had all met their end today. I wanted it, even, and you know that, but…” his voice petered out, as if he didn’t want to verbalise what he was about to say. He let out an exasperated sigh. “But you… you were ready to die for them. For people you don’t know, for people who don’t know you and don’t care about you.”

He turned back to her, eyes searching her face, as if he would find something written there that would put his mind at ease.

 A smile spread across her face, a tiny laugh whispering past her lips. “Thank you, Shadow. That… that means a lot.”

He gave a kurt nod, moving to stand, but she caught his arm and his attention again. As he looked back to her, something pressed against his cheek. Something soft. Something soothing. 

It was her lips, pressed delicately against the cheek she had slapped only hours before. 

She sank back to sit against the wall, a self-satisfied smile still on her lips, as his own face started to burn. 

She’d kissed him. This girl, who he’d snarled at and insulted. Who had stung his face with her palm. Had kissed him. 

And, stranger still, it had left him wondering what the sensation would feel like had she caught his lips rather than his cheek, as his face began to burn.

Thanks for reading, and I really hope you enjoyed this fic :)

[mirramirra05]

The beast of infatuation

Trapped on a island since the fall of the others, her once pure love has become that of obsession and perversion. The sounds of a trumpet will blind you're mind making you love her for all of eternity

and if you don't?

Well her snakes are quite hungry! And all 6 of you will make the perfect little snacks for them....

The hero of fate

A child of beast and cookie, in the shadow of her mother she tries her best to right the wrongs she's grown up with. Her loom,her hands, and the red twine that brings cookies together work to fix and reveal that of true love. she promises to bring real love back to the kingdom and not the sounds of obsession that invades the ears of others and coils around them like a poisonous snake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello!!!

Id like to welcome at-least two of my cookie run kingdom OC's

My beast cookie- whipped butter cookie/calypso cookie

My ancient hero cookie- mixed chocolate cream cookie

The idea of whipped is based off of Calypso and Scylla from epic the musical/homers Odyssey with the idea of that instead of being trapped in the silver tree with the other beast she was placed/trapped by the witches to stay on a island never to be rescued or found purposely by others.

Every cookie that ends up on her island are shipwreck survivors or people lost at sea, very rarely if not at all does anyone make it off the island cause of the witches spell and whips magic too. Her trumpet is basically mind control and a love spell in one causing anyone to hear it to fall madly in love with the one who plays it. She plays her trumpet constantly to keep the spell from fading and in her twisted mind her losing her loved ones.

The Scylla position of her is her physical looks, she has six snakes that are connected to her each one is alive but their minds are like a hive mind, connected and act out the main brains commands. All though each snake is poisonous with different levels of poison. The lower 3 the ones closer to her body are more so used to threaten or put someone their place there poison is weaker, the top 3 the ones close to her sould jam/gem are the ones that kill the ones she considers "heartbreaker's".

With mixed chocolate she is actually more of a self insert then OC cause she's based off of me by my race cause I am mixed ( white American and black/mixed Jamaican) so she is a mixed white and dark chocolate frosting cookie. The only thing I changed was she is also based of of Penelope and circe from epic/the Odyssey.

Penelope from her weaving and her desire/ her waiting for real love not the obsession she has seen her whole life.

While circe due to her magic abilities with the red string and her deep care and protectiveness of the cookies she loves and care for. ( The cake hound she has used to be a cookie she considers her best friend, she turned them into a hound so that way her mother could never use her trumpet on them)

Both these characters are blood related as mixed is whipped full blood daughter. Mixed is immune to her mother spell due to being her daughter, the only reason why she doesn't stop her mother is because she does feel real love for her mom.

A cookie( either a milk or mixed chocolate based cookie) from dark cacaos kingdom had gotten lost at sea due to him traveling for a business position in a neighboring kingdom. Sadly like many cookies that end up on whipped island she keeps him there and even forces him to marry her, eventually bringing mixed into the world. Mixed father is still alive but he's kept trapped in the main palace of the island, constantly under whips spell to the point where he's a obsessive lovesick shell of the cookie he used to be.

Both of her parents don't truly love her , since her dad is always under a spell, and her mother is well a love obsessed beast. The only reason she knows that what she grew up with isn't real love is from visions given to her from a ✨higher power ✨ that show her what love is and she tries to learn from the people who end up on their island before they hear her mothers spell.

Anyways this is what I have so far for the two of them! I bring out more as I go!!!

[anonzentimes]

zen am i just projecting or am i cooking when i say komahina are both soooo incredibly anxiety disorder coded

like i’ll start with nagito bc to me that one’s more obvious. this guy has ocd. holy SHIT nagito has ocd. and it’s completely reasonable for him to have developed it! his luck means that things go wrong for very little reason all the time, he knows the luck has Rules to it, of course he’d develop little “rituals” (read: compulsions) to try to minimize bad luck. plus, frontotemporal dementia often causes symptoms of ocd as well (though i’d argue he very well could have developed the disorder before his diagnosis). nagito is always so convinced that Something Bad is going to happen Because Of Him even if he has nothing to do with the situation. “xyz thing happened earlier so something awful will happen now” that is obsessive-compulsive thinking!!! i just know he counts every step and Has to close doors 8 Times “just in case.” he probably has some form of moral ocd as well considering how convinced he is that he’s a terrible person who isn’t worth anything. oh and of course he doomspirals like no fucking other

as for hajime. i might really be projecting with this one but also i’m Right. generalized anxiety disorder. his primary fear response is fight. hajime is so stressed out about everything all the time and this is why he’s kind of bitchy. he’s Anxious. you see this a lot in the prologue where even before monokuma shows up hajime Is Not Trusting Of This Situation bc what the fuck!!! where is he!! what do you MEAN just enjoy it how did he get here!!! he’s surrounded by strange people on a strange island with a fucking stuffed rabbit and you expect him to NOT freak out??? hello??? he passed out for sure bc his adrenaline response got so intense that his blood pressure got weird and oh down he goes. but it also shows in subtler ways. his thought patterns and constant questioning of things— he overthinks a LOT, from monokuma’s plans to why his classmates are Like That to I Must Be So Normal to his mystery talent to What Is Nagito’s Deal Actually. in the prologue and chapter one, nagito gets hajime to calm down by distracting him— specifically, he teases hajime and riles him up. this gives him a healthy outlet to put that fight response energy into, and thus the anxiety recedes. hajime calls himself a “coward” in nagito’s 5th (? maybe 4th) fte— before i got my gad diagnosis, i thought of myself as being overly sensitive and nervous— hajime, who isn’t very good at deciphering emotions in general (likely due to not being able to talk about them at home but that’s a different story), would probably see his anxiety and identify it as cowardice. he also just… worries. constantly. about everything. whenever a classmate goes missing, whenever nagito goes missing (he proceeds to question WHY he’s worrying with nagito a lot which ties back to the overthinking), whenever anything new happens on the island, etc. mainly though i think hajime’s gad shows in his insecurities. he is deeply afraid of mediocrity, of his best not being enough. i think a lot of his fears stem from the idea of being forgettable or unremarkable— he wants to make an impact on the world, and the thought of dying before he can, whether it be in the killing game or just the rat race of life, horrifies him. but he doesn’t know who he is, he doesn’t know how to make that impact. he’s terrified that he, hajime hinata, is not enough. that he’s boring, unremarkable, destined to be just another salaryman, part of the mob. that’s why he worries about his talent so much, that’s why it hurts so much when nagito starts treating him worse in chapter 4 (someone who was once his biggest source of comfort is now affirming his worst fears), and that’s why he was such a good target for the kamukura project. hpa saw his insecurity and fear and preyed on it. most people wouldn’t sacrifice themselves for some experimental project. but when you’ve fought to get to a place that you pray will be able to make you special, and they tell you “we can make you special, but it will change who you are,” and you Don’t Like who you are because you feel deep down that who you are will never be enough, well. why wouldn’t you take the offer? you get to Be Something. you get to make an impact. who cares if you lose yourself? that guy was boring.

ANYWAYS that got away from me a little bit. i could keep going (like abt hajime’s fight response and nagito’s fawn response) but this ask is long enough lmao. point it they both have undiagnosed anxiety disorders i know it i Know It please tell me you see what i see

Hii!!! Sorry it’s taken me so long to get around to answering this! I was waiting for a good moment to type up a response since I think such a long ask, especially from an oomf, deserves a thought out reply. To be straightforward and simple: yes, absolutely yes! I think the interpretations that Hajime has anxiety disorder and Nagito has ocd is very fitting. I don’t know as much about ocd as I do about anxiety, so I don’t really talk about it in fear that I may be rude or inaccurate, but I definitely so heavily agree every time I see it. As for the anxiety disorder I’m not sure if I really have it but my anxiety is a pain and I am taking supplements and have started taking meds for it recently (fingers crossed those actually do anything helpful), but this is to say that I relate to Hajime a lot in those sort of moments and when you phrase it like that I realize it is probably because of the anxiety he experiences alongside his character beats. For Nagito I can say, “Yeah! Everybody makes such great points about him having Ocd! I really like that interpretation even if I don’t know about it as much,” and then with Hajime it’s like “Yes! This is canon to me I know about this and I say so and relate to him and it fits incredibly well!” :D

also lowkey I’ve been having that weird feeling where I miss them,,, and reading this has made me miss them less so thank you very much hehe I love Hajime and Nagito very much and agree with your points heavily, appreciate you sending this!

[schneiderenjoyer]

UTTU Catalogue's Categories

There's a lot about UTTU that still is unknown and they operate strangely. I've seen some conversations about it, but out of everything that's making me lose my mind is the Category Covers.

The implication of Categories creating a diverse subculture (and potentially subspecies) of arcanists within the arcane community aside, the covers literally tell us the very essence of the arcanists categorized within it are. All hidden by the fine print (seriously they're hiding the words and shrinking the letters and blending it into the colors on purpose, it's so hard to see)

The clearest one I can read full is for Arcanists; "The two-faced are among them. Born to Suffer." It's a strangely poetic way to describe how arcanists, in human society, are viewed to be ill fated people. Thus, they're born to suffer for their nature.

There's also Awakened; "Backdoor listing, welcome to the phenomenon world." Which is interesting since we know the arcanists listed in this category have a far more bizarre and even unknown way they're born and became arcanists. A form of "backdoor" approach to being born an arcanist. A Phenomenon, if you will.

The Beyond is a little hard to read near the end, but it states; "Under the surface, I know nothing but the fact of my ignorance." And who is in that category? Jessica. There's also words covered that make the word WHO and a cut off line that says "Cannot spe? spa?" Does it refer to the fact that Voyager doesn't speak?

The Mixed is even harder to really read for me, but I can make out is the half the phrase of "Where did the rationality go... -----" like it's questioning where they went wrong in the gene process to not be 'logical' enough for human society, but just 'irrational' enough to stand among arcanists yet not fully belong. A lovely commentary on mixed races.

Lastly, the reason I'm writing this whole thing, is for the Infected. Why? Well, one, we now have an official arcanist categorized to it, Ezra Theodore. (This has now been debunked and instead replaced with a far more infuriating revelation here.) And for the unofficial...

SLAMS TABLE

IT'S SCHNEIDER, YES, THIS IS ANOTHER OF MY LONG DELULU RANT ABOUT HOW WE GOT SCAMMED SO HARD DURING BETA AND LOST OUR CHANCE AT A PLAYABLE ITALIAN MAFIA GODDESS. I'M MAKING MY STANCE, BLUEPOCH PLEA--

Anyway.

The caption for this category is ominous, threatening even, being; "We know who you are and we will visit the visitors." And for those who don't know why this is important. This category pertains to one of the most fascinating cases.

Because it's for humans that can use arcanum.

Not that they have an arcane bloodline, no. They're pure blooded human that can use arcanum. And that spells a fucked up implication that could mean all sorts of things. One being human experimentation. And UTTU knows something and are making sure people in this category understood that even if they can use arcanum, they're not arcanists. Like many arcanists, they're keeping the line between humans and arcanists very clear. Even calling the category "Infected" like it's a virus, a plague. Something dirty that entered their veins.

UTTU is fascinating in this regard and I hope to see more about them in the future the more times they have these flash events and maybe even someday fully explored more in depth to its lore.

[n0body01]

STORY: 9/10

PLOT/EXECUTION: 3.5/10 (big oof)

CHARACTERS: 8/10

DESIGN: 10/10

ORIGINALITY: 10/10

WRITING/DIALOGUE: 5/10 (ouch)

REWATCH: 7/10

Ok. I've been holding back on Tokyo Override. I'm a sucker for animated kid/teen shows and I'm a life-long biker myself, lived several years in Tokyo, and love Sci-Fi/Cyberpunk. BUT. Despite the great stylized visuals and charming characters, the show just felt flat, man. Lemme tell you why.

(bad first, but there's the good too later)

As a biker in a Motorcycle Club myself, I have to firstly say that racing bikes through the streets of a crowded city is really bad in an animated show for kids/teens. ANYWAYSSS.

The main big thing is that it's clearly a kid/preteen/teen show, it's not "young adult," as the MC is a young teen and the whole vibe/visuals are kid show standards, more similar to Carmen Sandiego and less similar to say, Batman Beyond. I bring up the latter although obscure to Gen Z, because it's literally a dystopian Cyberpunk Batman future, dark and gritty. This is not what Tokyo Override is, yet it wants you to listen to what it says not what it shows, as it tells you it's a dystopian Cyberpunk future but shows you toddler designs and Hello Kitty color palettes.

At first I thought it was a veil, a facade, something meant to make you feel like everything is so perfect before getting into it. Well, it got into it and nothing changed. That's the problem. Carmen Sandiego doesn't have a single gun in the show but it feels like a very adult female James Bond and feels REAL. I bring this one up as a comparison because the gang gets similarly chased by law enforcement.

It's a fucking LITERAL blood bath of guns shooting and massacring people. Like wtf. It just does it all wrong, because the gore never fit in, the drugs never fit in, there was never a VIBE for any of this. It fell flat. I didn't feel for the political refugee children like I did with GhostInTheShell Stand Alone Complex. It was all super dramatic and forced into a world that didn't have that vibe. Can't buy into it when Carmen Sandiego nailed it.

The Sci-Fi/Cyberpunk elements also fell flat. There was no depth to it, and completely lacked world building which made everything unrealistic, couldn't take it seriously. It seemed they could pull anything out of their ass without a foundation of what could or couldn't be done. Hacking is always a tricky thing to pull off, but man, it was pretty bad. I have got to bring up Pantheon on Netflix as well, which is too similar in Cyberpunk hacking, but when Pantheon does it, it feel REAL even though it's all made up and there's no real "code" or server logs. Pantheon is seriously "out there" with that stuff, but man, Tokyo Override hacking and tech is beyond credibility and feel ridiculous.

Part of the reason the world building fell apart was writing/dialogue. It wouldn't take much to build the world with a few more lines or a couple comments from the characters, but that rarely happened. The characters themselves were so cliche, OMGGG it's literally Final Fantasy7 personalities and dialogue. Hugo is basically Ray from Star Ocean 6, or any other Japanese media with the positive extroverted white guy. The antagonist were too cartoon-y but trying so hard to be dramatic it was bad. I'd be lying if the plot twist didn't get me, but it was just executed so poorly.

THAT BEING SAID, leading into the good things, the characters were still charming pulled out of successful predecessors, and the MC Kai was actually THE most original I've seen in a while, though I don't often consume Gen Z media like this, but still, Kai was great. The rest of the gang was awesome, the dad and the way the garage ran, their chemistry and charm is what kept me watching besides the bikes. The dynamic of working on bikes in the Garage, pulling delivery jobs, having "old friends" like the racer girl come by is the part that felt like soul food. Their names are literally what "road names" or nicknames would be in a real motorcycle club.

The Bikes looked amazing I instantly recognized Spoke's Yamaha R1 and Hogo's Honda cafe racer. Watari's adventure bike was also on point, and the bikes fit each character's personality perfectly. I only wished that Lizard, the detective, pulled out his own American Style Harley-Davidson/cruiser a la Will Smith in iRobot, they really missed that opportunity, COME ON. The character design was also on point. Hogo with the sherpa pilot bomber jacket to match his vibe and also bike (I have the same jacket) and Spoke with a more introverted but clean personality wearing what looks like an Alpine Star (I also have one) jacket/track suit on his sports bike Yamaha. Kai's outfit was as unique as hers, and pulled it off well. Just gotta throw in how it gives LGBTQ vibes all around which is great in an MC. Watari is Japan's version of a "tomb boy" and she talks like it and dresses the part, along with her adventure bike. Really should have been the BMW GS1200 but alas.

Another good thing is that they ALWAYS wore their helmets, great message in a kids show.

They did futuristic Tokyo right, even if they screwed up the cyberpunk/sci-fi workings, they pulled off the design. That first Ramen shop scene mixing the old with the new, the ever so narrow alleys, the express way, and of course the crowded 賑やかな lively city with people and cars and trucks everywhere. The garage front in particular the way it sat in that small street felt real af. The vending machines and other little details all around made the city feel lived-in, chef's kiss.

Ultimately, regardless of shortcomings, this is by far one of the most original shows out there, especially a show featuring real motorcycles. It's just a shame that it fell wayyy lower than Carmen Sandiego, Pantheon, or any other of these great kid/teen shows. I found myself rewatching it in both Japanese and English, because I fucking love Motorcycles, Tokyo, and the visuals, but man some dialogue and scenes make me cringe.

P.S. Go watch Batman Beyond, it's cheaper to buy the Blue Rays online like Amazon than streaming (unless you're a Pirate like me). If you're in Asia, you should be able to find MARS, a Taiwanese live action adaptation of a Japanese manga about a motorcycle racer and his love life as a bad boy. Lastly, watch Ghost In the Shell's Stand Alone Complex animated series. Ppl get really confused because of the 1995 Movie, and on top of that all the soul less new ghost in the shell series ok Netflix. No, don't fw any of that, just watch Stand Alone Complex first, then the rest.

[wendichester]

𓂃˖ ࣪ 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔟𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤

˚₊‧꒰ა @scary-noodlesblog ☆ castiel ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ⋆˙⟡ where virgo, aries, capricorn meets virgo, capricorn, pisces*. ⟡˙⋆

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑✧˖⋆𖤐

ꔛ. meeting each other,

✧ what’s the most likely way for you two to meet?

it happens during a case gone sideways. something off-books, something even dean and sam can’t explain. enter you—logical, sharp, unsettlingly observant. you're the civilian who isn’t afraid to ask the wrong questions, the girl too smart to ignore the weirdness. you meet castiel when he drops into the scene��literally. trench coat, wings, a look in his eyes like he already knows your soul.

✧ are you a hunter or a civilian?

you’re a civilian turned essential. your virgo sun and cap moon need a reason, a structure, a system to make sense of chaos. but once you're pulled into the supernatural, your aquarius influence craves understanding the why behind it all. castiel sees that potential—and you, unknowingly, become his new mission.

✧ what’s his first impression of you?

he’s... confused. intrigued. moved. you remind him of discipline wrapped in warmth, like order and empathy stitched into one. your libra mercury and venus give you a softness he doesn’t fully understand, but desperately wants to. your energy is quiet but radiant—and he notices everything. especially the grief you don’t talk about. he sees it like a halo around you.

ꔛ. friendship compatibility,

✧ how would the friendship be like?

it's slow and sacred. castiel doesn’t open easily, and you’re guarded under all that grace. but your virgo suns respect each other. your conversations are long, complex, emotional deep-dives. he listens without judgment, and you offer comfort without fluff. you become each other’s emotional translators. he teaches you patience. you teach him how to live among humans, not above them.

✧ how would it begin?

after you save him from something he should’ve been able to handle. you patch him up, question nothing, and let him sit in silence until he’s ready to speak. from that moment, you’re in. not just in his orbit—but in his trust. he doesn’t have many people like that.

✧ quirks and fun things about it:

✶ you teach him slang. he takes it too literally. ✶ he forgets personal space. you pretend not to notice. ✶ you bicker about philosophy, art, humanity—and then fall asleep side by side, not needing a word. ✶ he once wrote you a three-page letter about a sunset.

ꔛ. romantic compatibility,

✧ are you compatible? is there a chance for friendship to develop into more?

yes. intensely. this is soulmate-level stuff. your virgo sun + cap moon pair stunningly with his virgo sun + pisces moon. you keep each other grounded, but also emotionally in tune. his venus in cancer and your venus in libra create this dance between emotional depth and romantic ideals. you want beauty, fairness, and balance. he wants nurturing, protection, and soul connection. somehow... you give each other both.

✧ what type of relationship would it be?

deep. steady. consuming. you’re the planner. he’s the protector. but more than that—you’re the voice he didn’t know he needed. and he becomes the silence you crave when your world spins too fast. together, you’re safety, growth, devotion. he’d worship you quietly, constantly. you'd show him what love feels like, not just what it means.

✧ what are your love languages according to the charts?

✶ you: words of affirmation, acts of service, quality time. you want to be seen in the small things.

✶ castiel: touch, emotional presence, sacrifice. he’ll carry your pain like it’s his own. the intimacy here isn’t always physical—it’s existential. you love through care. he loves through being there.

ꔛ. scenario, ₊˚⊹౨ partners ৎ ₊˚⊹

you’re both covered in blood and dirt, hearts racing, breaths shallow. castiel’s hand is still glowing faintly from healing your ribs. your voice trembles. “you could’ve let me die.”

his eyes narrow. “i couldn’t.”

“you almost lost your grace.”

“you’re worth it.”

he says it like a fact, not a confession. you’re shaking. he steps forward, gently touching your jaw. “i don’t care about heaven’s rules. i care about you.”

you break then, burying your face in his shoulder. and he holds you—strong, still, steady.

for the first time, you let yourself fall. and for the first time, he’s there to catch you.

ꔛ. overall, score : 9.5 / 10

this is a soul-deep, eternal connection. you’re both analytical, guarded, and endlessly loyal—but when you love? you love with your whole being. the only reason this isn’t a 10 is because sometimes you’ll need more verbal clarity than castiel can give—and he’ll need more emotional transparency than you’re ready to offer. but if you meet in the middle? babe... this could last lifetimes.

you’re his reason to stay grounded. he’s your reason to look up. it’s not just a match. it’s fated.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

* since he's an angel and we have no real information of his birth, i did a rough chart according to his personality. so, castiel is: sun in virgo, moon in piesces, rising in capricorn, mercury in aquarius, venus in cancer, mars in aries, jupiter in saggitarius, saturn in scorpio.