#and I think for Will we will see something similar

[dijayeah]

"You don’t trust me, do you? Let me show you how deeply I can care." //

– An argument after a dangerous mission leads to an intense reconciliation.

🔞NSFW CONTENT MDNI🔞 🐦‍⬛word count: 3.3k 🐦‍⬛synopsis: Sylus has had enough of your reckless decisions, but his frustration spirals into something far more heated, be it for the better or the worse. 🐦‍⬛contains: fem!reader x Sylus, rough sex, evol manipulation (energy attraction/detraction), possessive Sylus, biting/marking, praise-(soft) degradation kink, overstimulation, slight angst, masochistic reader, teasing, edging, intense orgasms, breeding kink undertones (but no pregnancy), aftercare, possessive but tender dynamic, the usual. 🐦‍⬛please consider following me for more similar content! 🐦‍⬛read on ao3.

The silence between you was suffocating, punctuated only by the low hum of the sleek car as it glided over the uneven terrain in the middle of nowhere. You were still catching your breath from the mission—the adrenaline crash, the heat of danger still clinging to your skin like a second layer.

Sylus sat rigid in the driver’s seat, one hand gripping the wheel while the other rested on his muscled thigh. His jaw was tight, the sharp line of his profile illuminated by the faint blue glow of the console. You knew he was upset—not at the mission’s success, but at you. For what felt like the hundredth time, his gaze flicked to you, smoldering, questioning, disappointed.

“You could’ve been killed back there,” he finally said, his voice low but cutting. “Do you have a death wish, or were you just trying to piss me off going after that wanderer?”

You bristled, turning to glare at him. “I knew what I was doing, Sylus. I didn’t need you swooping in like I’m some rookie hunter who can’t handle herself.”

“Handle herself?” He snorted, bitter and sharp. “You jumped into an unstable tunnel with no backup and barely made it out with that core. If I hadn’t been there—”

“But you were there,” you snapped, cutting him off, just as pissed off. “You always are. So why the hell are you so mad? You act as if you don't understand the kind of job I do, we do.”

He didn’t answer right away, the tension in the rover thickened like heavy smoke, and it made your throat scratchy. His large hand tightened on the wheel, knuckles pale.

“You don’t trust me,” he said finally, the words quiet but laced with something raw, emotional even. “That’s what it is, isn’t it? You don’t trust me to have your back, so you go and risk everything like it doesn’t matter if you make it out or not.”

“That’s not true,” you protested, though even as you said it, you heard the hesitation in your own voice.

Sylus laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “Don’t lie to me, kitten. I see it every time you look at me like you’re waiting for me to let you down. Like I’m one bad call away from screwing everything up for you. Well, I’ve got news: I’ve had your back from day one, even when you didn’t want it. Do you not trust me just because I'm in charge of Onychinus?”

The heat in his words matched the fire sparking in your chest. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t see how much you care? That’s the problem, Sylus! You care too much, and one of these days, it’s going to get you killed, be it your fucking organization or whatever this is.”

The car jerked to a stop, tires grinding against the dirt. You lurched forward slightly, the sudden halt making your breath catch. When you looked at him, his crimson eyes were burning, molten with something that made your pulse quicken.

“Maybe I care too much,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “But you don’t get to use that as an excuse to push me away.”

Before you could respond, he leaned over, his big hand curling around your small chin, forcing you to meet his sharp red gaze. The air between you crackled, the thin veil of restraint he’d clung to snapping like a frayed tether.

“You don’t trust me, do you?” His thumb brushed against your jaw, rough and unyielding. “Let me show you how deeply I can care.”

The words hit you like a shockwave, stealing the air from your lungs. His lips crashed against yours, hungry, demanding, as if he were trying to pour every unsaid word, every bottled emotion, into that kiss. Your body reacted instinctively, your hands tangling in his shirt, pulling him closer.

It spiraled from there—his mouth trailing fire down your neck, his hands claiming your body like he was trying to prove a point, to you, to him, it didn't matter.

At some point, he shifted, unbuckling your belt as well as his, pulling you into his lap. The cramped space of the rover was suddenly irrelevant, every thought drowned out by the heat of him, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing anchoring him to this reality.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice rough against your ear. “Say you trust me.”

You glared at him, defiant even as your body melted under his touch. “You’re such a smug bastard.”

“And you love it,” The silver-haired man shot back, his lips curling into a crooked smirk that was all teeth and arrogance. His hips bucked up sharply, driving a gasp from you as your nails dug into his shoulders. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed, kitten. Every time you glare at me, every time you fight me—you just want me to put you in your place.”

His words made your chest tighten, your breath catching as his hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. He wasn’t wrong. The way he moved, the way he talked, how he always had to have the last word—it drove you insane. And yet here you were, rolling your hips against his large bulge like you couldn’t get enough of it, of him. God, you needed to fuck this man.

“You’re full of yourself,” you managed to gasp, though the edge in your voice was dulled by the pleasure building with every movement.

The leader of Onychinus chuckled, the sound dark and low as he leaned forward, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Maybe. But you’re the one writhing on top of me, sweetie.”

You wanted to retort, to say something sharp that would wipe the smug look off his face, but the words dissolved into a moan as his hand slid down, pushing your shirt up just enough to expose the curve of your waist. His fingers traced the line of your skin before gripping your hips again, guiding you as you moved on him.

“You’re so fucking stubborn,” he muttered, his crimson eyes half-lidded as he watched you with a mix of hunger and frustration. “Always running off, always pushing me away—but look at you now, going nearly all pliant on me just because of my cock.”

He thrust up into you, sharp and deliberate, and you cried out, your body arching against him. His hands roamed higher, slipping beneath your shirt to splay against your arched back, pulling you closer until your chest was flush against his.

“Say it,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less commanding. “Say you trust me.”

You bit your lip, defiance flickering in your gaze even as your body betrayed you, moving in perfect rhythm with his. “I—” Your words caught in your throat as his hand slid down, his thumb brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves between your thighs, through your tight pants.

“Hm, what was that, kitten?” he teased, his smirk widening as he worked you with practiced ease. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fuck, Sylus,” you gasped, your head falling against his shoulder as your nails raked down his muscled arms, through the dark shirt he wore. “I trust you, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Yeah,” he rasped, his voice raw with emotion now, the teasing edge giving way to something deeper. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

His lips found yours again, the kiss bruising and desperate, and you felt the tension between you snap like a tightly drawn wire. 

Sylus undressing her, teasing her with the tip of his cock, and stretching her out with his fingers first, all while keeping his sharp, in-character tone.

Sylus’s lips left yours, a string of spit still connecting you as he pulled back, crimson eyes heavy-lidded and gleaming with intent. His hands roamed your body with an almost infuriating slowness, tracing every curve, every soft dip of your skin, like he was memorizing you.

“Shirt first,” he murmured, his voice low, like gravel dragged over silk. His long fingers moved to the fabric clinging to your chest, undoing each button with painstaking precision. “It’s in the way.”

You swallowed hard, heat pooling between your thighs further as he peeled the shirt off your shoulders, his gaze darkening when the fabric fell to your waist. He let his thumb graze over the light lace of your bra, smirking when you shivered.

“Pretty,” he muttered, his tone soft but tinged with something sharper. “Bet you wore this for me, didn’t you, kitten?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could form a single word, his hands slid beneath the fragile straps, tugging the garment down until your tits spilled free. His gaze devoured you, and he let out a low hum of approval before leaning in, his mouth brushing over your collarbone.

“Better,” he murmured, his lips trailing lower. His large hands cupped your breasts, thumbs grazing over your perked-up nipples as he took one into his mouth, sucking softly. The warm, wet drag of his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your needy core, your nails scraping against his shoulders in response.

“Sylus,” you gasped, your voice breathy and strained as you rocked against him, desperate for more.

“Patience,” he drawled, releasing your nipple with a soft pop. His hands moved to your waistband, unfastening your pants with the same deliberate slowness that made you want to scream. “I’m going to take my time with you. Can’t have you breaking on me too fast.”

He tugged your pants down, dragging the fabric over your thighs with a roughness that sent a shiver through you as you helped him to get rid of them. His hands lingered on the bare skin he revealed, his fingers tracing patterns that made your breath hitch in ways only he was allowed to witness. When he finally stripped you completely, his gaze raked over you with such intensity that it felt like he was laying you bare in more ways than one.

“Fucking perfect,” he muttered, almost to himself, as he shifted beneath you. His own pants were next, the tailored fabric sliding down to reveal thick, muscular thighs and his cock—long, heavy, and already leaking at the pretty tip. You stared, glossed lips agape, and he noticed, his smirk widening as he wrapped a hand around his length.

“I take it you like what you see, hm?” he asked, his tone teasing as he stroked himself slowly, spreading the precum along his length. “Bet you’re already imagining how good it’s going to feel. But not yet.”

Before you could respond, his hand moved to your thigh, spreading you open further on his lap. His fingers trailed up your inner thigh, pausing just before they reached your slick heat over your panties. He let out a low chuckle at the way you squirmed beneath his touch.

“Needy little thing,” he murmured, his tone laced with pure amusement as he pushed your underwear aside. His rough thumb slid through your folds, gathering your arousal and circling your clit with infuriating precision. “Look at you. Pretty fat pussy so wet already. And I haven’t even started.”

You whimpered, your hips jerking against his hand, but he held you down easily with his free arm. He slid one finger inside you, his crimson gaze locked on your face as he curled it just right, making your breath hitch.

“Relax, sweetie,” he muttered, adding a second finger and stretching you with slow, deliberate thrusts. “You can take it. You’re going to have to, if you want this.”

His other hand fell away from your body, wrapping around his cock once more, this time tighter, the tip glistening as he dragged it through your messy folds, mesmerized. The teasing friction made your body ache, your thighs trembling as he tapped the head of his cock against your clit, smearing your sticky glistening arousal over himself.

“See that?” he murmured, his voice dark and low as he watched the way his cock slid against you, slick and obscene. “All of this? That’s mine now. Don’t forget it.”

You moaned, your nails digging into his forearms as he continued to tease you, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance near his fingers before sliding back up to circle your clit again. “Sylus, please—”

“Not until you’re ready,” he cut you off, his fingers thrusting deeper, stretching you until your body softened beneath him. “And when you are, you’ll beg me for it.”

His teasing smirk was still in place as he finally pulled his fingers away then, positioning himself at your entrance. He paused, his crimson gaze locking with yours. “Gonna beg, or no?”

“I want it,” you breathed, your voice trembling but certain. “I want you, Sylus. Please.”

The smirk softened into something deeper, more dangerous, as he pushed in slowly, inch by inch, the stretch making you gasp as he filled you completely. He hissed low in his throat, his head falling forward against yours as he bottomed out.

“Fuck,” he rasped, his breath hot against your lips. “You feel even better than I imagined.”

“You asked for it,” he growled, his voice rough and strained as he thrust into you, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the cramped space of the car. “Begged for it, actually. So take it.”

His hands gripped your hips with bruising intensity, guiding your movements as you writhed on top of him. Each snap of his hips forced you to take him deeper, harder, the stretch and friction igniting every nerve in your body. Your cries filled the vehicle, but the leader of Onychinus wasn’t satisfied—not yet.

“Look at you,” he rasped, his crimson gaze flicking to where you were joined. “Such a pretty little thing, grinding on me. But I can make you feel even better.”

A faint shimmer of red pulsed from his right eye, and you felt it—an invisible pull, like his hands were everywhere at once. Your body jolted as his Evol flared, the sensation of his energy manipulating the space around you adding an electrifying layer to the way he moved inside you. You gasped as you were pulled downward with more force, his cock driving even deeper, hitting spots that made your vision blur.

“Fuck,” you choked out, your hands bracing against his chest, your nails raking over the taut muscle there. “Sylus—what the hell are you—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, a wicked grin spreading across his face. His right eye glowed brighter, the crimson shimmer swirling like molten fire. “Just making it easier for you to bounce on my cock, sweetie. Thought you wanted it rough? Or do you want it soft? Are you trying to be hard to please?”

The pull of his Evol guided your hips, lifting and dropping you in perfect rhythm with his own thrusts. It was relentless, merciless, and utterly intoxicating. Each time you were forced down, his cock filled you completely, the pressure making your head spin. Your walls clenched around him, and his growl deepened, low and feral. The car was filled with obscene squelching sounds as you both listened to them.

“You feel that?” he murmured, his voice laced with dark amusement. “That’s all me, kitten. Every inch of you is mine right now.”

Your thighs trembled as his energy pulsed again, the invisible force amplifying the intensity of every movement. It was overwhelming in the best way, your body arching against his as your cries turned into desperate moans. You clawed at his crumpled black shirt, yanking it open further to expose more of his pale skin.

“God, Sylus,” you gasped, leaning forward to kiss along his neck, your teeth grazing the sharp line of his jaw. “S-so close—”

The crimson shimmer flickered across your body now, the heat of his energy wrapping around you like an extension of him. Every nerve in your body felt alive, hyper-sensitive to his touch, the drag of his cock, the sharp edge of his teeth as he bit down on your shoulder in response.

The bite sent a jolt of pain that melted into goosebumps, your nails digging deeper into his chest as your body instinctively arched into his even more, if that was possible. Sylus growled against your skin, his teeth leaving faint indentations before he soothed the mark with his tongue softly, a possessive gesture that made your breath catch.

“Fuck, I can feel you trembling,” he muttered, his voice thick and gravelly, the faint glow in his eye flaring brighter. His hips snapped up harder, the relentless rhythm of his Evol working with him, pushing you closer to the edge. “You gonna break for me, kitten? Let me feel you fall apart around my cock.”

You whimpered in response, your mind hazy with the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. The heat of his energy, the rough drag of his girthy dick, the way his voice curled around your ears like a command—it was too much and not enough all at once.

“Say it,” The leader of the Onychinus demanded, his hands gripping your plush ass now, the force of his thrusts slamming you down onto him as his Evol guided the motion. The shimmering red energy flickered along your skin where the two of you were connected, a physical manifestation of his control, and the sight of it made your walls flutter around him. “Say who’s fucking you this good.”

“You,” you gasped, your voice breaking as the coil in your core tightened to the point of snapping. “It’s you, Sylus. Only you.”

“Good,” he growled, his grin sharp and dangerous. “And this pretty little pussy? Mine. All mine.”

His words sent you over the edge, your body tightening around him in a vicious grip as your orgasm hit like a tidal wave. Your vision blurred, and you cried out his name, your nails leaving deep scratches on his chest as you rode out the waves of pleasure. Sylus groaned at the way you clenched around him, his thrusts turning erratic as he chased his own release.

“Fuck,” he snarled, his head falling back against the seat as he drove into you one last time, his cock buried to the hilt as he came. His warmth filled you, hot, thick, and overwhelming, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he spilled his cum into you.

For a moment, the world seemed to still, the only sounds the ragged breaths you both struggled to catch. Sylus’s hands softened their hold on you, sliding up to your waist as the crimson shimmer of his Evol faded into nothingness. His other hand brushed the sweat off your brow, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’re a goddamn mess,” he muttered, though his tone was softer now, almost fond. His fingers traced lazy circles against your skin as he leaned back to look at you, his smirk returning as his crimson eyes met yours. “A pretty one, though. I’ll give you that.”

You let out a breathless laugh, leaning forward to press a peck to his jaw. “You’re one to talk,” you murmured, your voice still shaky as you settled against his chest. “Look at you. All smug and yet ruined just as much. I wonder what Luke and Kieran would have to say if they saw their boss like this?”

His smirk widened, his arms wrapping around you to pull you closer. “Ruined, huh?” he repeated, his voice low and teasing. “Sweetie, from what I believe we’re just getting started.”

[reignpage]

how do you think jjk men are with embarrassing moments during sex? like if something embarrassing that happens to either them or their partner, do they play it off, try to inject humor, swear off sex to be a monk?

i read a similar post by an author advocating for well, not just more realistic depictions of sex in fics, but to include some of the awkwardness present in them too?? their post included geto’s hair getting stuck in butt cracks, Toji pulling a muscle, Nanami losing his boner, and Choso full on shitting himself accidentally to help with reader’s embarrassment over queefing 😭😭😭

like yes it’s funny and bonkers but cuz sex isn’t always the passionate sexy fuckfest we see in fics/movies, people don’t always cum at the same time, yes you DO need lube AND prep, foreplay DOES matter, dryness or losing an erection midway no matter how horny you are is common yano?? 😤😤

lowkey wanted to go anon lest you call me perpetually horny 😭 but ignore me if my shit’s getting old

own your shit bae, no pun intended. ur horniness could never get old. I like these questions cause they're like brain teasers. okay okay lemme have a go

Gojo:

says a cringy line

I can totally see him trying something new that he thinks would be super sexy like

"oh yeah? you like that? you're such a dirty whore, aren't you? come on, cum and show me who you're daddy is."

reader will pause and stare at him like, did you hear yourself?

gojo will have a moment of realisation and give himself the ick. even he has limits.

he collapses on top of reader and begs her to forget that, will be a blushing mess.

he'll think about it once in a while and cringe

but in the moment, he'd throw a tantrum if you can't stop laughing and making fun of him.

"it wasn't that bad! you're being mean, seriously. I just got caught up, okay? stop laughinggggg"

gets very pouty, protests, and you have to seduce him back, really compliment the hell out of him

then he'll force you on top and make you take the lead so he doesn't give himself another opportunity to be embarassing

Geto:

trying to switch positions in a tight space and then you accidentally rest your elbow on his long hair and he almost rips outs chunks

probably gets irritated because you've damaged his brilliant hair

takes a breather and then starts back up again

punishes you during sex

will crack a smile if you do

"yeah, alright, laugh it up. but if I develop a bald spot, neither of us will be laughing."

will make sure that never happens again

might even pull your hair during sex to show you how it feels (not too hard obvi)

Choso:

might get too subby lol

like "am I a good boy mommy? am I doing good? I don't want my mommy to be mad at me" and he's in tears

idk how to write mommy kinks lol

and you both have a moment of clarity where it's like, damnnn you okay? didn't know you had trauma like that

he'll get very shy and embarrassed

might even start crying, trying to run away

you'll have to reassure him it's fine and then just go slowly and gently, having more loveydovey sex

late at night, he'll ask you if you really didn't mind because he doesn't want you to be freaked out or think he's not a man

but I imagine it'd become a kink you indulge him once in a while

just gotta teach him it's okay, just don't spring it on someone mid act lol

Toji:

trying a really acrobatic fucking position, whether in the living room or in the shower, gets his footing wrong and slips, smacks his head against the wall, takes you down with him

he knocks himself out

you have to wrangle his 200 pound or something body in to a safe lying position and wait for him to come to

when he does and he remembers what happens

bro is in denial

no he didn't slip

no he didn't overestimate himself

no it didn't hurt

no he's not embarrassed stop asking him

gets very grumpy and will storm off, grumbling under his breath

comes back calmer

neither of you mention it but it hangs in the air as you both prepare dinner together

once sat across each other, you make an eye contact and you burst out laughing

he rolls his eyes but he's got a smile on his lips

"yeah yeah, what fucking ever. you try lifting your heavy ass up whilst you're balls deep"

next time tho, he gets you back by forcing you to endure vanilla sex, going very slow and shallow and overly sweet

makes you beg for him to fuck you normally

he'll consider it

Nanami:

drunk sex, becomes wayyyy too emotional

"sweetheart, you're the most beautiful thing in the entire world, I love you so much do you know that? I honestly -hiccup!- c-can't live without you, oh goodness, please don't make me live without you!"

he's still inside, he's not even thrusting anymore, he's just crying into your neck like a baby

you're brushing his hair, shushing him, orgasms forgotten

might vomit on you a little

wakes up with a killer hangover and a night full of memories he wishes he could erase

"oh god, honey. I'm so terribly sorry. I can't believe I did something so ridiculous. no I know loving you openly isn't ridiculous, but I wouldn't be wrong to say crying, leaving you unsatisfied, forcing you to care for a man child, and cherry on top, vomitting on you is just a little ridiculous."

has to go make it up to himself for being a terrible husband

will spoil you for the rest of the week

or anytime he remembers

might actually drink less because of it lol

Sukuna:

he'd kill you if he did something embarrassing

pray he never does

[sucodelaranja86]

U ate the jealous! Cho Hyun-Ju request up fr!! Especially the suggestive part lmaoo I love it

Do u think we could get a Hyun-Ju x reader where we suffer a knee injury during one of the games which we try to keep quiet about until one of the other players (maybe young-mi) notices n tries to help us out w it which catches the attention of Hyun-Ju who gets upset n scolds us but were to stubborn to listen n wave her worries off until our injury hurts more n we begrudgingly go to her for help?

- don't hide it from me : ★

featuring: hyun-ju cho x reader

summary: you suffered a knee injury in the middle of the game, but you were too stubborn to tell her.

warnings: slight angst.

A/N: i am taking too long to write more fics, i'm sorry 😭 also, as every single squid game work i do, young-mi lives 😋

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

‣ as you walk out of the second game field amongside your previous group, your heart was still racing from the horrifying experience while you made your way back to the giant dormitory, the peaceful silence of the place creating a harsh contrast to the tense atmosphere you had just left behind. The weight of what was happening began to settle as you sat down once again in the staircase. You haven't expected being put on such a deadly game, and the gravity of the situation made itself clear to you at each passing moment.

‣ but you couldn't deny that what shocked you even more was to find your partner here. One of the only connections you had in the outside world was also put in this messed up game. And judging by the reaction she had when she first saw you, it seemed the feeling was also mutual on her part.

‣ she saw you first in the "green light, red light" game, you were surprised as you felt a familiar grip on you, pushing you in a panicked manner behind her. And in the six-legs game, you stood by her side, hugging her arm close to you.

‣ you 5 were the second group to play and the first one to pass, meaning the dormitory would be empty and silent until the following groups finished their turns. The young man settled in his bed with a loud sigh, laying relaxedly with his mother who also had a similar relieved expression on her face. Hyun-ju sat alone in her bed, a thoughtful expression on her face, while the short, timid girl never left your side. As she sat down next to you, she hugged your arm excitedly.

‣ ― we- we did it! ― young-mi stuttered happily. As she finished saying that, she elbowed you playfully, but what she didn't expect was to see you flinch painfully while hissing. Her expression quickly turned into one of concern, straighten her posture as she looked at you worriedly.

‣ ― [name]? What is it? A-are you alright? ― she mumbled, putting one shaky hand on your back. You looked at her, sensing her worry. ― i'm alright. I just- i think i just gave a bad turn and injured my knee. ― you confessed. Young-mi anxiously looked around, trying to figure out what she should do. She remembered what you said earlier- that you knew Hyun-ju before entering here. And that was the first solution that came into her mind.

‣ The short-haired girl then shakily got up, not taking her hands and gaze away from you, ― i-i'm going to get unnie- she must know what to do- ― you quickly interrupted her sentence with a desperate grunt, holding the girl's wrist for dear life.

‣ ―no- don't. Please. ― even if your voice held a stern tone, you almost begged. Ever since the beginning of this game, you could notice something was wrong with Hyun-ju. At the end of the first game, you two swore to go back home- except she didn't follow that promise, ashamedly clicking on the blue 'O' button. And now, it didn't seem her opinion would change, you could see through her. You know how big of an opportunity this was to change to change both of your lives, and mostly how big of a step it would be to help with her transition. As much as she was ashamed to admit to you, and only you- she couldn't leave this early in the game.

‣ and you didn't want to worry her.

‣ hearing your determined tone, the girl silently nodded, quietly going back to her spot. ― but... Please, treat this as soon as you can. Being injured in a place like this is no good. ― she advised apprehensively. You nodded softly, wanting nothing more than to reassure her that you could manage.

-

‣ you held your pained grunts as you tried to massage your knee without waking up anyone. As the lights turned off, you rapidly pulled your pants up to try to access the situation your injury was. Now finally having time to take a better look at it, even in the dark, you could see how purple and bruised it looked. You had no experience in this field, but tried your best to make the aching pain go away with the little knowledge you had.

‣ you let out a shocked gasp as you felt a strong hand on your shoulder, backing off just to quickly stop due to the throbbing pain. As you fearfully turned your head around, you were met with the stoic face of no one other than Hyun-ju. Her face was turned down as she nonchalantly sat on your bed.

‣ she grabbed your wrists and easily took them off of your knee, earning an agonizing hiss from you. You looked at her, a confused expression on your face as you tried to find the right words to express your thoughts. ― how... How did you know i- ―

‣ ― young-mi. ― she answered shortly, cutting you off without further explanation. Well, it's not like you needed it. She replaced your hands with hers on where they where previously, massaging your knee with a more strong and experienced grip.

‣ after a short period of silence, she continued. ― you should have told me. You can't be this reckless. ― she stated in a low and frustated tone, not letting place for any discussion.

‣ you could only sigh as you allowed her treat you, the pain gradually subsiding. As she finished, you continued looking down ashamedly without muttering a word. As if on cue to act, you received an unasked, but welcomed kiss to your lips, the tense atmosphere quickly shattering down. You looked up to see the previous stern expression on her face gone, replaced by a more soft and caring one.

‣ ― please, don't hesitate to tell me if something happens. I wouldn't live down if anything happened to you. ― she muttered while looking lovingly into your eyes.

‣ you nodded softly while guiding her to lay down with you on your bed, taking care to not injure your knee further. She wrapped her arms around you, laying your face on her chest. As you both settled in, you felt yourself falling asleep quickly. The fatigue creeping up as you snuggled yourself further into her.

‣ young-mi, you snitch.

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

[multiplefandomsyep]

I love the yin and yang dynamics between characters and In-ho and Gi-hun are one of them.

Both of them joined the games because of the desperate situation they were in.

Both of them got back to their houses with all the money just to see that it was already too late to save their loved ones.

Both of them went with that pain and felt that the money wasn't needed anymore, it was just an empty thing because their loved ones were already gone

But here is the difference: they reacted the opposite way to lead with the pain.

While Gi-hun still had hope in people and blamed himself for everyone's death, In-ho just saw them as selfish cruel beings.

Gi-hun didn't kill anyone in the games, he was showing a good heart even at the final, when he wanted to give it up just to save Sang-woo. In-ho possibly did kill people while he was on the games to gain the money, we see he does something similar when he was on the Mingle game. (I guess, when In-ho was only a player, he was more like Sang woo, doing that for the sake to survive)

I think one of the reasons In-ho is so involved with Gi-hun is because he wants to know "why?" That simple but big word, "why didn't he end up like me? Why does he still see good in people when even him is looking on how they still vote to stay and continue the games? He did lost his loved ones, and he's still here, why?"

They are two sides of the same coin, therefore, as yin and yang does, they complement each other. Both of them having a little part from the other (In-ho having some humanity on him, seeing himself in Gi-hun and Gi-hun having this resenment towards the people that did the games "small sacrifice for the greater good"). And it's just, ugh, they are so complex.

[fandom-lover2]

Actions Speak Louder Than Words

Miko has a bad day, and Optimus learns what body language is.

Word Count - 3040

-image not mine-

Today was… normal.

As normal as one could get when their guardian is a 20 foot tall metal warrior from another planet, but today hadn’t been any different than the others.

Woke up, got ready for Saturday (Ratchet’s favourite day because we were at the base all day) and hitched a ride with Bee and Raf to base.

We were the first humans here. Ratchet and Optimus were already hard at work at the monitors, scanning for energon and logging reports and doing whatever it was that they continuously did at those computers.

After exchanging greetings and brief conversation, Raf and I settled down while Bee waited for Bulk so patrol routes could be run.

It didn’t take long for the roar of a motorbike’s engine to fill the tunnel and Jack was rolling in on Arcee, Miko and Bulk close behind.

“Thought you had work today?” I called down to Jack, not moving from my spot at the desk with the human monitors where I was preparing to start my history essay on the similarities between Ancient Greek mythology and Shakespear (don’t judge, I find it interesting).

“Schedules got moved around. Apparently I’m ‘Working too much’ and they don’t want to pay me.” Jack replied, beginning up the stairs.

What followed was the sound of two Autobots transforming, and then silence.

I glanced over my shoulder, making sure Bulkhead had actually brought Miko. There she was, walking up the stairs behind Jack. I frowned, but turned back to my papers.

“Where to today, boss?” Bulkhead questioned.

“Once you have restocked your energon, we are going to northern Alaska. Our scanners have sensed an energon signal.”

“If it’s black, fight back.  If it’s brown, lie down. If it’s white, goodnight.” I warned jokingly to Jack and Miko, not looking up from my textbook.

For mid-April, Alaska would be warm enough now that they could go along and maybe not freeze. That also meant the bears would be out and about.

Me personally, as much as I wanted to tag along, this essay would take a while and with spring break around the corner, I didn’t have time to go off on excursions.

That’s why I came here to work on it, Ratchet would keep me from getting too distracted. I’d texted last night asking as much.

“Eh, I have some homework to catch up on.” Jack answered, and I heard him pull out the chair at the desk near the couch and get settled. Beside me, Raf was already lost to the world of coding and typing away on his laptop with ferocity.

I waited for three breaths, and then frowned when there wasn’t a reply. I spun in my wheelie chair, and watched as Miko sat down on the couch.

Ok, what was up?

Firstly, she didn’t sit anywhere, she flopped. And secondly, she never took up only one end of the couch. Usually, she dramatically lounged across it while whining that it was taking forever for Bulkhead to get ready so they could head out. And also, what was with the silence. Not even a sarcastic greeting to Ratchet.

Something was up with her. It wasn’t her birthday, wasn’t a Japanese traditional holiday she was missing, wasn’t school related cause yesterday she had a good day.

I glanced over at Jack and he was turned in his seat too, looking just as confused.

He caught my gaze and gave the ‘you see it too?’ look.

‘Yeah. What’s up with her?’ I shrugged subtly.

Jack raised his brows slightly, ‘I don’t know. She didn’t say anything to me.’

 I rubbed my lips together, my go to for thinking.

‘You should talk to her.’ Jack prompted, jerking his chin just a bit.

‘Me? Why me?’ I frowned.

‘Well I can’t. I’m a guy.’ Jack answered, looking down at his chest and then back up to me.

‘Fine.’ I agreed, rolling my eyes. Men are such weirdos.

With a sigh that didn’t need to be that dramatic, I got off my chair and made my way to Miko. On my journey, I happened to glance over and found Optimus watching me with an intense stare.

It was almost enough to make me stumble over my own feet.

I had long since given up trying to understand Optimus, mostly because there wasn’t much to understand. He was a simple guy, someone who carried a lot of weight on his shoulders and had only made it so far in life by concealing his emotions.

If he was pissed, you’d know it in the way he spoke. If he was at ease, he’d hang around a little longer in the common area before heading off to wherever it was he went. If he was stressed, he’d assign himself the longest patrol route so he’d have more time to get away. Easy as that.

This, open and intense studying, was a new one. A part of me wanted to ask, but I was on a mission already. Sky and ocean blue would have to wait.

As I got closer, it was obvious something was wrong. She sat hunched, eyes glued to the floor and hands folded in her lap. Her eyes were puffy and a little red, and she sniffed when I got close.

Crying, hunched over, hands in good posture… oh god. She was going back to Japan.

“Hey Meeks.” I greeted, sitting on the sofa beside her.

There was the long approach, of asking how she was, and then going through all the small talk. Or, I could ask it upfront and get this going. Knowing her, the only way to get it out was to hit her hard.

“What’s wrong?” She looked up at me, and as it always happens when someone asked ‘Are you ok?’ when you already aren’t, the water works started.

“They won’t let me dye my hair.”

Between the beginning to cry breaking her voice and the fact that she lunged at me, I only got some of the words before she was burying herself into my chest and sobbing. My arms wrapped around her, shuffling forward so I could pull her into my chest and cradle her closer.

“What?” I asked, needing to hear that again.

“My host parents.” I could faintly make out. “They won’t let me dye my hair.”

Her outburst had caused everyone to look at us, and Bulkhead was rushing over from the supply station, an adorably confused face that suited a toddler better than all 18 feet of him looking to me for the answers.

Either he didn’t know how to start this conversation, or he’d not seen something was wrong on the ride over. Either way, I was now being watched like the one with the answers.

Miko sobbed into my shirt again and I realized I was supposed to be doing something.

Ok, let’s back up to what she said. Her host parents wouldn’t let her dye her hair. Well, the pink was starting to wash out a little, leaving only the bleach behind. And, her hair had grown out a bit since our first meeting. And, based on what she’d told me about her host family, they did seem very ‘stick up the ass’ about this kinda thing.

Still, not letting her dye her hair. Come on, assholes. It’s part of who she was, her personality. It was just hair dye.

Miko sobbed again, and I continued to hold her close.

It was just hair dye, and yes it made her seem like a delinquent, but in the land of Freedom, let her live. No one was getting hurt.

“So fuck them.” I spoke, plain and simple.

“Kristin!” Jack chastised.

“What?” I demanded.

Miko had released me in her shock and was now sitting upright, wiping her tears.

I turned to Optimus. “Mind if I pull Bulk for a couple hours?”

He didn’t take long to consider it. “You may.”

I smiled back at him in thanks, standing and heading for my bag, which was left by my books. I paused just briefly, but then slammed my textbook closed and slung my bag onto my shoulder. I could do it later.

“Coming?” I asked Miko, making my way to the stairs and skipping down them.

“Where?” Miko asked, hesitant to follow.

“To buy hair dye.” I called over my shoulder.

I heard her gasp, then scramble to rush down behind me. Bulkhead transformed, opening his front doors for us.

Miko reached me as we got to the bottom of the stairs, slamming into me from behind and encasing me in a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she repeated over and over.

“Yeah, yeah. Get in.” I redirected, shrugging her off.

“Bulk, play something awesome!” Miko instructed, rushing to get into his passenger seat. A moment later, something metal and ear assaulting blasted from his speakers.

I regretted this already.

---

I, thankfully, got to choose the music on the ride back, so Elle King announced our arrival back to the base.

Bulk pulled to a stop and we jumped out his cab, me pulling the two plastic bags with us.

Miko took off into the base, not a glance back as she shouted “Come on!”

I had one pit stop to make before we commandeered the bathrooms.

“Jack!” I called, jerking my head for him to meet me halfway as I started up the stairs.

He did, and I handed over the second bag.

“What’s this?” he asked, glancing inside to find soda, candy and some bags of chips.

“Do not disturb tax. We’re having a girl’s day.”

Spinning on my heels, I marched back down the stairs and made my way into the base.

---

I flopped onto the old chair with a groan, my back protesting. Three hours of standing was not easy.

But hey, Miko has bright pink ends and was currently kicking Raf’s ass at Mario Cart, so it was worth it. Kinda.

This shirt had been one of my favorites and now it was bleached to all hell.  And my ears were still ringing from the speaker we’d used.

But hey, karaoke was the bomb. Totally worth it.

I moved my hands to rest on my back, using them to lean backwards and stretch my spine.

Primus, what time was it anyway?

Jack had left a couple hours ago for his shift and said his mom had made us stuff for dinner that’d he bring back. Miko and Raf would be getting ready to head home soon.

Jack and I would probably spend the night. June had nightshift and my parents were out of town again so there wasn’t a reason for either of us to make the trip back.

Spinning the chair around, I opened my textbook again. Interlacing my fingers and giving them a crack, I started up my laptop and got busy.

At first I struggled to find a point to start on, but once finding a cool quote online, the words started flowing and flowing.

I apparently missed Raf and Miko’s goodbye and Jack’s arrival because the next thing I knew, Ratchet was using a digit to cover my screen.

“Oi!’ I turned to glare up at him.

“I understand all the well putting your health aside for a project, but you need food and sleep.”

I glanced down at my phone and tapped the screen, 11:34pm shining back at me.

Oh scrap, I had been here for almost 4 hours. How was that even possible?

I looked around the base. Optimus was watching with just as much concern as the medic, Jack asleep on the couch already. Well that explained why my eyes were burning and why my stomach ached so fiercely.

“Yeah, ok.” I conceded, rubbing my eyes. “Lemme just save this quick.”

Ratchet relented, moving his digit so I could quickly save the document before gently closing my laptop.

Standing, almost every bone and joint in my body cracked. Ratchet cringed, having verbally stated his hate when I did that many times before.

Barely having enough energy to shuffle, I made my way to where ‘dinner’ sat cold. Eh, lasagna was better cold anyway.

Grabbing a plastic fork, I ate straight from the glass dish, barely able to keep my eyes open. Ratchet wished me a goodnight and I returned the sentiment between yawns.

I had just finished all I was going to eat and was preparing to get settled on the smaller sofa when Optimus walked over and held out his servo for me. No need to tell me twice.

I climbed abord and let him carry me to his room. When we got there, he sat on his berth, and then swung his legs over and got settled on his back while I situated myself on his chestplates.

The pillow and blanket that were left in his room for occasions like this were brought up for me and I thanked him, curling in onto him.

Yeah, I slept on his chest when I slept over. And yes, it was extremely dangerous but he was yet to roll over in his sleep and kill me so we’d keep doing it.

“Y/n,” he started.

I hummed in the form of a reply for him to continue, fluffing my pillow.

“You planned to do your school work earlier, but then when Miko confessed her distress, you abandoned your work to help her. Why?”

What kinda question was that?

“She needed me.” I answered simply, shifting slightly so I could look him in the optics. “I could always do the work later. She needed me then.”

Optimus seemed to accept that answer. “How did you know she was in trouble?” I went to answer, but he continued. “And those actions you and Jack exchanged, almost as if you were having a conversation, but without words. How was that possible?”

I huffed a laugh, getting settled once again and closing my eyes. “Body language. We could read each other through our actions, and those translated into words. Same thing with how Miko was acting. She wasn’t talking, sitting by herself, hunched into herself. She was sad. Jack shrugged, meaning he didn’t know why.”

I paused, thinking of how I could possibly explain it any further and found there really wasn’t much more I could say. Body language just was.

Thinking back on it, the bots never really did speak through body language. All conversations were verbal, and I’d never seen them silently gesture to one another before.

There wasn’t really a way to explain it to someone. You could explain some of the actions, but it was so ingrained in human culture, it was never a need explain. It was the universal language, though now I guess it was only the human language.

“I’ll teach you sometime.” I said through a yawn, settling down further into his warm metal.

“Rest well, My Spark.” Optimus agreed, bringing up his servo to settle over me.

I drifted off to sleep moments later, the sound of his spark beating steadily in my ear.  

----

“You are… cold.” Optimus finally settled on his answer, which was so far from the correct answer Miko and Raf dissolved into giggles.

Jack looked wounded. “Am I that bad at acting?” he lamented, giving up and walking away.

The intended action was bored, or uninterested, but to the Cybertronian warrior, somehow sitting with a sigh and resting your head on your fist meant being cold.

These lessons were taking a lot longer than I thought they would, and apparently more coaching than I’d imagined.

Body language was seriously something none of the bots knew. In fact, Ratchet had laughed at the concept until I’d explained to him some of the common actions we did.

He then grumbled about how these pointers would have been helpful when dealing with Agent Fowler, like it was our fault no one debriefed him on human mannerisms.

“Bored. He was bored.” I answered, standing too. This was not going well.

“He is not the only one.” Arcee mumbled.

I turned to glare over at her. “No one asked you to join in.” I muttered even softer than her quip.

“You don’t like Arcee.” Optimus blurted out.

Jack barked out a laugh so hard he missed the chair he was aiming for and hit the floor. Miko and Raf dissolved into more giggles.

“Well that only took 6 months.” I sighed. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea anymore.

The blue and pink stabby stabby femme turned to look at me, her optics narrowed. I looked away to avoid her gaze.

No doubt this would come back to bite me in the ass later on.

“You are embarrassed.” Optimus helpfully decided to test his knowledge.

He wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t too embarrassed. I wasn’t trying to hide my dislike for her. But being called out in front of her by him was a little harsh.

“Good work, Optimus.” I rewarded his observation. The proud little smile he awarded himself was too adorable.

All jokes aside, we were making some progress. And once I’d see the bots use some of our gestures when they’d been sneaking up on ‘Cons and couldn’t talk.

In some ways, us humans were actually helping out there. And teaching these ancient bots something new.

And Optimus was like a little puppy, so excited to learn more and prove his skills, which were still in development but he was getting there.

We still had to work on his ability to read the room, and when to keep his observations to himself.

But we’d get there.

To save everyone from the embarrassment, the tones sounded for energon signals being picked up.

“Time to roll!” Miko cheered, like she going to go anywhere.

“Sit down.”

“You are authoritative.”

“Optimus, just go out… there, somewhere!” I snapped, gesturing to the opening portal.

This was seriously turning into something I regretted.

The Prime walked over to his screen, and made a plan with his team, and then just before slipping through the groundbridge, he turned to me and said, “You are annoyed.”

“Optimus!” I picked up an empty soda can and yeeted it towards him.

I seriously needed to rethink this decision.

[blackheart-6]

skies forever blue x deltarune

hi yall

a few months back, i listened to skies forever blue for the first time (which you can watch here https://youtu.be/njgcjGojRKk?si=9l8e1A4JOT6kXaLn ) and i thought it was really good! the music and video are both amazing!!

so, i decided to do a little crossover thing with it and deltarune ^^

this is the image i redrew!

(i wouldve made more of the characters, buuuttt... im kinda lazy :P)

sorry this isnt a video, i dont really have a good way of recording my pixel art stuff, whether on my phone or computer :<. ill figure something out eventually!

this is supposed to be a continuation of me putting noelle in other video games, but i guess that depends on whether or not you see it that way. since sfb isnt an actual game, i could see why you would think it doesnt count, but since its still supposed to be a game, even if not an actual one, it counts in my heart 🩵

also, i didnt make this because i think sfb and deltarune have any actual connection (i know thats a theory some people have, but i just dont see it), but mostly because i did notice some similarities, especially between the girl and noelle (i wont go into it here, if i start yapping about noelle i just wont stop XD. if anyones interested i can talk about it tho)

now we have something that doesnt have to do with any of that! i made a bluesky account! ( https://bsky.app/profile/blackheart6.bsky.social ) i thought 'since im making a drawing related to -skies forever blue- maybe its a good time to make a -bluesky- account' lol.

id probably be posting about what i post here there tho. honestly, the main reason i got it was to follow toby fox, so i can make sure to get the latest utdr news 🫣. but since i made the account, i thought i would at least use it for art.

but anyways, thats it for now, bye yall!

[a-rainbow-girl-detective]

Cassandra Cain...in plush form!

For Cassandra Cain Week 2025, I decided to make a plush of Cass in her Black Bat costume! Here, you can see she’s posed amongst rosemary flowers. Rosemary is a symbol of remembrance, and because it can grow even under harsh conditions, it also stands for strength in adversity. Both meanings are perfect for Cassie!*

I really like how her expression turned out. I think she looks very cute and tough!

If I’m being honest, Cassandra’s Black Bat costume isn’t my favorite (though I do love how she’s usually drawn with her cape as this rippling, writhing, alive thing swirling all around her)—I think her OG Batgirl costume is top-notch character design! But without the mask, it’s also a pretty plain costume, and I thought the Black Bat outfit was more visually striking for a simplified doll. (This is also why I made the inside of her cape yellow—canon!Cassie would definitely favor an all-black cape for stealth, but I think she’d agree that for a cuddly doll, a pop of color is acceptable.)

I’ll post some work-in-progress pictures of her later this week, but for now, I’m just delighted that she’s done! I used to be super into knitting character dolls (like, it was my main hobby besides writing—I was very cool in high school), but it’s been a while since I made one, and it was really fun to do something similar again. I think my favorite detail is the little bandages/wraps on her forearms. She wears them as Black Bat, but she also wears them in the YA novel Shadow of the Batgirl as part of a costume she cobbles together herself, and for that reason, I’m especially fond of them as part of her design. With them on, she's ready to take on whatever Gotham can dish up!

*Alright, full disclosure: I actually didn’t intend to comply with the prompts at all. I was taking pictures of Cass outside, noticed that the only flowering plant in my yard was rosemary, and had a violent flashback to playing Laertes in my 11th-grade production of Hamlet, in which we had our Ophelia run out into the audience and start distributing flowers to random people whilst explaining their meaning (one of which was “rosemary—that’s for remembrance”). So then I spent several minutes trying to figure out how to most effectively stuff my precious, handmade doll into a bush. On the plus side, the pictures are pretty, they fit the prompt, and now Cass smells like rosemary, so…win/win?

[elby-and-a-blog]

Not disagreeing with your point on how god in Christianity and Judaism are quite different (Same thing happened in China with the Logos and the Tao being named the same)

However, I would have to say that "wizened man with a beard sitting on a cloud" was actually a medieval innovation. For many a century Christians did not depict God the Father. In Western Europe, art of God as "wizened man with a beard sitting on a cloud" only starts being documented in the 15th century. When art of "wizened man with a beard sitting on a cloud" started appearing in Eastern Europe, the Russians were so perplexed that they tried to ban it (it didn't work). That's weird, if Jupiter were syncretism with the Christian God why don't we see him earlier? Because he wasn't, perhaps?

I would be more sympathetic to your point if you pointed out similarities between Jesus and Hermes or Helios in art, but the intricacies of Christian Theology was so infuriating to the world at the time that Greek philosophy was changed by bickering bishops. Words were re-defined. People split over slight differences in how they described God. Changing an iota would result in fist-fights. Yaddi-yadda.

Also correct me if wrong, but wasn't the reason for Zeus and his many affairs being that everyone wanted to be a son of the Heavens?

Anyway, while Christianity is very much unique and developed in a different trajectory from Judaism, saying that it's all Zeus is like me, a Gentile, saying that Ruach HaKodesh is ACTUALLY Asherah or something. Christians are Hellenized, yes, but then Philo is as essential as Plato in understanding our doctrine, especially when it comes to concepts like the Word of God.

Also considering heresies like Marcionism or the many flavors of Gnosticism basically calling the God of the Tanakh actually evil for creating the world and stupid compared to the better God of [insert non-canonical scripture here]; saying that the Christian God is God of Abraham and Isaac was not the PR move you think it'd be

I am curious as to your view on Muslim claims that we all worship the same God actually

Small reminder that whilst many christians believe and very loudly proclaim that their god and HaShem are the same, many Jewish people do not agree.

[vaingod]

why do you specifically want to play as a girl with a dick? Fallout 4 has preset player avatar mods that make your character nonbinary, I think that is a much better solution for what you want out of your character

cus its cool to play a tgirl character? lol

no offense but im well aware of that mod and while the avatar preset is beautiful, a "flat chested athletic build female" avatar is not at all what i would call a proper solution for nonbinary people to play as tbh

like im trying to read this in good faith but why would a thin toned flat chested woman be something that my fat ass identifies with?? i said i want to play a fat girl with a dick and youre offering me a skinny chick w no dick how does that make sense to you??

ngl this is similar to the way people treat my transition "why do you need phalloplasty when youre very feminine and you can just be masculine and fit and be a completely different person cus itll fit *my* vision of your identity better" like i know this aint that deep but when we are talking about building characters we can identity with and play as we tend to build them close to our image of ourselves, yeah? why then would you recommend something different than what someone wants to play as? im sayin i hate that fallout has no good mods for me or my gf to play a girl with a penis and youre saying "hold on now why not play as a flat chested cis chick", you see the problem we are having here?

[witheringslights]

Back on my Viktor and Jayce and their realisation of love train again but this scene is so important to me

And it's so important that it happens here for Viktor. I think one of Viktor's greatest fears is turning into Singed. When he meets him as a child, Singed points out how similar they are and Viktor wants to help him with Rio.

Viktor has a deep desire to help even for Rio who he doesn't fully understand

Him finding out what Singed did is heartbreaking for him, its a formative experience for him, as much as he want to push what he can do through science he fears he will go too far like Singed and end up causing pain.

When Viktor goes back to Singed and takes shimmer, you can see his hesitation, he's desperate. He's stepping on a path he doesn't want to be on but tells himself this will only effect himself. Instead it leads to Skye's death and Viktor gives up, he's made a mistake and become what he fears but he begs Jayce to make it right.

Jump forward to this, and Viktor's fear is still true but it's Jayce that's become Singed, a mad scientist so intent on keeping him alive that he doesn't care what the cost is. I think it's very likely that Viktor sees himself similar to Rio, a mutation, something that must be kept alive for progress irrelevant of it's suffering.

So he leaves, and Jayce disappears into the Arcane

Jump forward again to the commune, Viktor meets with Singed again and with a touch is able to understand. Viktor could never understand why Singed would do what he did to Rio but this changes everything, he did it for love. I think it's important Viktor sees Singed reading to his daughter, in a room he's decorated for her. His lab is dark and unwelcoming but this room is full of colour and clear love.

It's so similar to what Jayce did for Viktor and he realises it. Jayce brought him back and sat by his side due to love.

Immediately after seeing this Viktor follows up with "knowledge is a paradox, the more one understands the more one realises the vastness of his ignorance" and then he rubs the gear

And this gear... I love the gear because for me it represents Viktor's relationship with Jayce. Twice we have happy memories for Viktor with Jayce associated with gears, once with the gear he floats to him when they first crack hextech and the second when Viktor recalls the distinguished innovator competition and how he remembers Jayce notching gears on the way over. Gears represent his relationship with Jayce and this one is corrupted but here he's almost rubbing it away.

From the scene with Singed, Viktor gained new knowledge, Jayce loves him.

I think this is what leads to this conversation, Jayce was right, Viktor was done with him and Hextech but now he's welcoming him back into his life. He wants him to come to him, he's concerned that he seems different that he seems to have suffered in the Arcane

He doesn't believe it was Jayce that killed Salo, he thinks it was something working through him.

Despite this, he let's him into the commune with a weapon, a weapon that was the key that lead to their previous separation. He leads him right to him, he's so trusting of Jayce in this moment, he never expected what followed

The dropped gear represents the end of the relationship in Viktor's mind (but not in reality). I also think it's this action that leads Viktor in his next actions, “The doctor was right. It’s inescapable. Humanity. Our very essence. Our emotions. Rage. Compassion. Hate. Two sides of the same coin, inextricably bound.” Vitkor thought Jayce loved him and instead he killed him and ended his commune.

He tries to reach out once more to Jayce, perhaps thinking Jayce's previous actions where drive through his experiences with the Arcane, as with Salo. With this rejection, Viktor finally agrees to reject his humanity fully.

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

ANGST SHADOWXREADER IDE BC I CRAVE FOR ANGST LIKE A B★TCH

Hey I was wondering if you could do a shadow the hedgehog x reader fanfic where Reader gets corrupted by black doom (not possessed)

(Side note: I got this idea for the fact we know shadow HATES black doom and the black arms and was really shown in sxsg)

Reader acts more cold,apathy,untruthful and cruel

their fur now with a notice able fade of black,dark red and red, Their pupils now the same as black doom, they wear the same golden chains with a set of gold-spiked medallions possessing a gem, and a double black cord necklace with red, blue, yellow, and purple ornaments on one and golden and silver pendants on the other that resemble the Black Arms' insignia,their fingers? More like demonic claws, Voice? Cold and uninterested., rest of their outfit? Robe like Just like black doom’s and shows of uneasy aura and power

“Where it Hurts Most”

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Corrupted Mobian Reader

Requested: Yes (by an anon).

Description: Never did he think Black Doom would be back. And never did he think would he use the person that he loves most to hurt him–you.

Notes: I decided to set this during Shadow Generations so I hope you don’t mind! Hope you enjoy it regardless!

(Reader will be gender-neutral.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

“(This white space is weird,)” you thought to yourself. “(I haven’t seen anyone in here!)”

You had been transported here suddenly on your way to Sonic’s birthday party, and you hadn’t even seen any sign of Sonic.

Or Shadow, for that matter.

Or…anyone.

It was beginning to worry you.

When you next take a step, something wraps around your foot, causing you to yelp out of surprise.

It…seems to be this black-colored goop.

When you take a step back, the goop attaches itself to the ground and pulls you further.

“Nononono, I’m not dying like this!” you yell, trying to pull yourself free.

“FOOLISH FLESH,” you hear a voice say. “YOU’RE NOT GOING TO DIE. NO, IT’LL BE MUCH, MUCH WORSE.”

You let out a loud scream as you’re dragged into the goop, it surrounding your body, a burning sensation covering you until your vision goes black.

When you next awake, you feel…better.

Stronger.

Perfect.

Looking down at your body, it seems you’ve undergone some fantastic transformations.

Your fur is now black and red, with gold chains littering your body, with a gold medallion placed near your neck, like a better necklace.

Different colored ornaments are strewn about the chains, and oh my Doom, your claws.

They seem to gradient into a black on your fingers, with your claws being ever-so-slightly red.

You also appear to be wearing a robe similar to your new overlord.

Black Doom.

Before you can admire your new form any longer, a set of footsteps causes your now dark-red-tipped ears to flick.

You turn around, looking at the mobian responsible for these footsteps, only to find fear in his eyes.

Shadow’s eyes.

…

Good.

“[Name]? What the hell happened to you?!” Shadow asks.

You let out a chuckle, an echo in your voice.

“I became better, Shadow,” you tell him. “And you can become better, too. Join me on the side of the Black Arms, and we’ll never be apart again.”

Shadow lets out a growl, getting into a defensive stance.

“I don’t want to fight you, [Name],” Shadow says. “Just snap out of it.”

“Snap out of what, exactly?” you ask him. “My glorious new overlord’s control?”

“Let them go, Black Doom! Right this instant!” Shadow demands.

“I’M AFRAID I WON’T BE DOING THAT, SHADOW,” you and Black Doom say at the same time. “THEY’VE BECOME BETTER, STRONGER, DON’T YOU SEE? YOU CAN BECOME JUST. LIKE. THEM.”

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again…I’d NEVER join you!” Shadow states.

“THEN HAVE FUN GETTING YOUR PRECIOUS [NAME] BACK,” Black Doom spats. “YOU MAY NOT BE ABLE TO BREAK THEM OUT OF THEIR CORRUPTION.”

“Go on then, Shadow,” you start with a mocking voice. “Attack me.”

“I’m sorry for this, [Name],” Shadow mutters to himself. “But I’ll get you back. I promise.”

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Twenty Two - Outlier

Part Twenty One

———

Iron is the 26th element on the periodic table, symbol Fe for Ferrum in Latin. It is the fourth most abundant element on Earth and was primarily deposited by meteorites.

Humans have been using iron since before the Bronze Age, initial use linked all the way back to the second millennium BC. 

It also is the mineral that the human body needs the most for growth and development, the human body uses iron to make hemoglobin which is a protein in red blood cells. Hemoglobin is why human blood is the shade of red that it is and why blood is a significantly different shade upon contact with oxygen.

Iron oxide is the reaction of iron to oxygen and water, which turns the iron to a dark red nearly blown tone, also known as rust. 

Rust is incredibly dangerous to Cybertronians and humans alike. 

—

Their walk through New Kaon was quiet and informative, Hound was trying to ignore the blood and discharge sliding under the collar of his assistance suit with each step. It was unlike Iacon and unlike Earth, it was something entirely unique to Decepticon culture and clearly Megatron was proud of it, smiling a bit, Hound kept walking and listening, “Just past those buildings is where we first landed on this planet, it’s where the space bridge usually stands though deactivated and dismantled due to the war.” His hands were folded behind his back, he walked with the same ease as any man who knew this was his city.

Nodding a bit, Hound continues to look around, “So, I understand why you have fighting pits, they’re probably a lot like our military bases back home, but why have them off cybertron?” Megatron hums, nodding some and glancing towards the sky, “Other than for the obvious reason, I take it?” It took a second for Hound to chuckle weakly, “Other than your million year civil war, yes, I mean why not have one there now?” Megatron nodded slowly, bowing his head slightly.

”Cultural differences and a desire to move on from unsavory pasts.” Hound came to a hard stop, staring at him and he cleared his throat a bit, “Wow.” Megatron chuckled deeply, “Jazz had a similar reaction, then attempted to explain some history of your planet while we walked. I think it just confused us both, he said he was not a history major.” Nodding a bit, Hound moves to catch back up.

Scratching his jaw again, Hound sighs, “Neither am I, so I don’t think I’ll even attempt that. I’d ask Breakdown on that, it’s much more up his alley.” They lapsed back into comfortable silence, walking the streets of New Kaon. Awkward companions that had similar goals. 

—

“Sir, why did you want me for your unit specifically?” They were still walking towards these ever elusive fighting pits. Megatron hummed deeply, “I figured that would be obvious Hound.” Nodding slightly, Hound picks up his pace slightly, “I don’t exactly see it that way.” With a chuckle, Megatron shakes his head, “No, I guess you wouldn’t. You and Mirage work very well together.” Nodding, Hound sighed a bit, “Ah.” With another chuckle, Megatron rested a hand on his shoulder, “That is not a bad thing Hound. Not many can work so closely with outliers and come out unscathed.” Nodding again, Hound went from nodding to slowly shaking his head.

Glancing toward the sky, Megatron bit back a swear, “Sometimes I forget that it seems your people don’t communicate the same way we do.” There was something in that statement, bitter and sounding almost painful.

In a breath, Megatron shrugged lightly, “We try to spread those with outlier abilities through different units, but maintain the bonds they make with more typical mecha. It’s not… easy to get along with mecha who have outliers. They can be abrasive and crass. Overwhelming both in EM and in personality.” Hound nodded a bit, really wishing for a pen and paper in that moment as they kept walking though now shoulder to shoulder. 

“Um, sir, forgive me but I still don’t quite understand and believe me it’s not making me feel like the brightest bulb in the box for having to ask this but what exactly are outlier abilities?” Megatron chuckled deeply but glanced towards Hound before frowning, “When i said that your kind don’t seem to communicate, I did not mean that literally. Has Jazz not told you?” Shaking his head a bit, Hound sighs, “It can be hard for him and I to have a moment to discuss things not related to the war or more everyday occurrences of, forgive me, your kind.” Nodding, Megatron fidgeted lightly with his digits, “I see.” Clearing his throat a bit. 

Nodding some, Megatron started to walk at a significantly slower pace than their already reduced one, “Outlier abilities are generally unexplained, they aren’t particularly connected to a mech’s altmode or anything else it seems. Back before the last war, they had to remain hidden or hide their capabilities.” Taking a breath, Hound just above a whisper, “Because Functionalism.” Megatron bowed his head. 

These were not topics that were usually brought up, it was suggested by Jazz to steer clear of them, but sometimes that just simply couldn’t be avoided. 

“They were persecuted and often hunted back then, now they are seen as the treasures that they are. In all honesty, it is one of the many reasons why Starscream remains my second in command, because of his trine’s capabilities.” Hound chuckled a bit and Megatron shook his head, “I wish I were joking Hound, but they were valuable assets. Still are, hence why they are here and not on Cybertron starting their lives,” He stops and sighs, “Now that the civil war is over that was supposed to be what everyone got.” Nodding a bit, Hound steps forward and nods encouragingly.

Taking a breath. Megatron continues on, “Now, generally, those with outlier abilities are spread throughout units. Clumping them all together doesn’t do us much good. We work with surrounding them with the right soldiers, mechs who can stand to work together without killing each other preferably.” Shaking his head, he sighs, “Hence why when you brought up the fighting you were dealing with in your own unit Optimus was willing to compromise.” Hound stared and bit back a groan, “Got it.” Finally, Megatron showed the barest bit of a smile.

Tilting his head a bit, it was almost as if Megatron was mocking Hound, “What? You thought your speech was that rousing?” Biting back a worse retort, Hound lowers his head a bit, “No, sir.” Megatron chuckled, “Regardless, we try to keep those who can get along with the outliers around and Mirage has seemed to take a liking to you. You seem to be able to find him very easily even when he is hiding.” Shaking his head a bit, Megatron laughs more than chuckles, rubbing at his jaw. 

Hound was staring and shaking his head clears his throat, “Sir, uh, I don’t entirely know what you are talking about. What do you mean, hiding?” Megatron waved a hand through the air, “Mirage is able to make himself imperceivable, generally.” He clears his throat slightly.

Hound wasn’t really sure what to say, “What do you mean, imperceivable? Like, invisible? Outliers can do that?” Nodding a bit, Megatron shrugs, “Only Mirage so far, everyone’s ability is different. As for the invisibility, to everyone except your kind it would seem. Jazz in his first few weeks with us grabbed his arm while he was invisible to our eyes, said he just felt like someone was standing near him. Then there’s you.” “Me?” Pointing lightly to his own chest, Hound shook his head a bit, “I don’t,” “You end up next to him half the time in these fire fights while we can’t see him, while the enemy can’t see him. Scared him half to death the second time it happened and you started talking.” They walked for a minute, Hound opening and closing his mouth before muttering, “I thought he wasn’t there.” Megatron laughed and bent at the waist slightly.

Glancing towards Megatron, Hound shakes his head a bit, “I didn’t realize, I swear it sir.” Megatron nodded, smiling and chuckling lightly as they slowed at the edge of something large and circular, “Yes, I believe that was what Jazz called a ghostly feeling.” Hound nodded before looking out at the circle in the ground and he stopped dead. 

The space was huge and horrific, but it was understandable with how long Cybertron had been at war. Everyone had their dirty secrets, even if they were training pits that looked like illegal fighting rings. No wonder they didn’t want any on Cybertron.

Megatron leaned against the railing, staring out at a few mechs that were training, who were also wearing what was the purple sigil of the Decepticons, now the emblem of one of the many political parties that made up Cybertron’s government. Which probably meant they were either high in the military, never stepped foot on Cybertron, or were a part of the council Hound had been avoiding. Very few mechs still wore their badges, less they were in the military or involved in politics.  

Back in the first few weeks they’d been out here, him and Jazz had talked about it. Back then when it was all so new it had seemed so interesting, how similar their planets were, then horrifying. Now, politics were the last thing he wanted to think about or focus on. 

Taking a breath, Hound leans against the railing, “Sir?” Megatron nods a bit, “I hoped this would not seem familiar to you. Your kind has gone through so much already in life, this was an aspect of it that I hoped you’d avoid. No matter how similar our pasts may seem.” Bowing his head slightly, Hound brushes a hand along the railing, “It is familiar, isn’t it?” “Yes sir.” Megatron sighs slowly, fist hitting the railing hard before shaking his head.

”I apologize for my anger Hound, I swear it is not aimed towards you.” Laughing a bit, Hound glances towards him, “Just my government?” Megatron pauses, frowning slightly, “… Yes.” Hound couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up, even as it made his head pound, leaning a hit against the wall, he looked up at the sky.

He hadn’t really noticed that the color of the sky here was orange, every planet that they had gone to had been different and none had yet reminded him of clear Earth blue skies. 

“So, who is in there right now? I don’t recognize them.” Megatron hummed and looked down, “Ah, you wouldn’t. That is part of team Chaar, they live here in New Kaon and one of my old commanders is the head of their unit. They are highly skilled and even more unpredictable.” Nodding some, he sighs, “They have not made their way back to Cybertron since the end of the war and now are the primary unit for this sector.” Hound glances over at the two mecha circling each other, covered in weapons and both mechs huge. 

Megatron stares and sighs, bracing slightly, “You might want to grip the railing,” “Why?” Though Hound’s hands quickly grasp it just as his vision fills with dust and sound cuts out to prevent hearing loss. 

For a second, he wasn’t sure what the hell happened till Megatron came in over internal comms, “That would be Lugnut, he has a special weapon that causes overly dramatic explosions. It’s not very reliable, unfortunately. The mech he nearly just blew up would be Blitzwing, I’d suggest we move on before their argument starts.” Hound still couldn’t see anything, “Uh, sir, I can’t see where to go.” His cameras were trying to cycle the lenses to clear them.

A hand grabbed part of his plating and held on, pulling him away from the expanding cloud of dust.

—

Iacon was shining in the daylight, while Sideswipe was enjoying it the best he could, turning up the brightness on his visual feed. He’d slipped out of the apartment while everyone inside was still asleep, though technically breaking the rules he didn’t much care for any of them at the moment.

Copper and silicon tubing is what he was looking for, Breakdown had said he wanted to also start making vodka so that his concussion would be manageable. It was smart of him to only mention that once Hound left. 

Sighing deeply, he tilted his head back slightly for the light to hit more of his cameras, brighting the visual feed further, “God, I miss Earth.” His implants were draining unpleasantly down his neck and arms, his shoulders painful. All of them besides Jazz were experiencing overuse and it was becoming more unpleasant by the day. 

Rolling his shoulder, Sideswipe swore and grabbed it, falling into the nearby wall, “Fuck!” His mech collapsed as he sank into his seat, holding his shoulder. It wasn’t the first time he’d dislocated it and it wouldn’t be the last, but it was the first time since he became a pilot let alone while piloting. 

He was stuck, well and truly stuck, he couldn’t get up without the use of at least one arm and the weight of his assistance suit was tugging on his dislocated shoulder. Making all this worse with every second, it was as if the weight of the whole suit was on just his arm. A shadow fell over him and he looked up, visor dimmed from the pain.

Prowl was staring down at him, frowning lightly, “Sideswipe, why are you on the floor?” Lowering his head, Sideswipe swore again, grasping his shoulder painfully, “I dislocated my shoulder and can’t get up, and please don’t say I told you so. I know we are not supposed to leave by ourselves.” Nodding slowly, Prowl reached down and pulled Sideswipe up carefully, “That’s right, you're not, and now you see why.” Sideswipe swore again as they started to walk back towards the apartment.

He’d hardly been out for twenty minutes, just had enough energy to enjoy the sun projected through screens onto his face before his body started to reject it’s purpose. 

A hand came down on his good shoulder and he swore, looking over his shoulder at Sunstreaker, “You’re lucky it was the two of us to find you Sides, not Jazz or Hound. Come on, we can get the tubing later, we need to spend time not in the suits while we still can.” Nodding, Sideswipe hung his head, swearing every handful of steps from the pain. 

“You make it sound like I don’t have the intention of telling Jazz,” Prowl frowned at Sunstreaker, “Or assume that he doesn’t already know.” Sideswipe looked to Prowl, stared at him and sighed deeply, “Fuck…” Sunstreaker laughed and started to cough, Sideswipe closed his eyes.

Even without their cameras on, he knew Sunstreaker was coughing up blood, just as Sunny knew he was bleeding and his shoulder was dislocated. 

—

New Kaon really was like Fort Irwin, the buildings were squat and there was dust everywhere. None had gotten into his ventilation system yet but it was only a matter of time. 

It was a military city and made during the war, in a way for the war, but people actually lived in the cities they made for target practice. Adapting for their new society and life as it is. Megatron had gotten him out of the dust cloud and started back towards the edge of the city.

All the soldiers were loitering around some unpacked heaters, Mirage was helping a few seekers. He looked over and froze for a moment, biting back a grin, “Uh, get caught up in a dust storm?” Megatron shook his head, “Very funny Mirage,” he sighs, “There was an incident at the pits, do you mind assisting Hound with hosing off? The mechs perception has been limited by the dust.” Mirage nodded, “Of course.” He walks over and takes Hound’s arm.

To be fair, Hound still couldn’t see that well, one of his cameras had cleared up but the rest were still blurry and had turned off after the first ten minutes. Mirage helped Hound over towards the set up wash racks, “Come on, let's get this dust off. Jazz has the same problem, saying that the visors weren’t great with the visual input.” Mirage kept a hand on his shoulder, helping him along. 

What he didn’t see was other mecha making lewd gestures towards Mirage, same as they had done on the shuttle, everyone knew what the outlier felt for Hound other than Hound. 

“There’s a step up here, just to maintain drainage.” Hound cringes slightly, stepping up and nearly slipping on the tile, “Damn, I hate not being able to see.” “We’re fixing it, don’t worry.” Mirage shuffled him around and rested his hands on his shoulders, “Alright, don’t move.” With a few creaks, the solvent turned on. 

It was already bringing the internal temperature of his suit up, which Hound didn’t realize had started to drop already. He sighed slowly and shuffled his suit to open the worst of the seams, brown and red dust started to hit the floor. 

Mirage stood back for a second before moving over, “Do you need help?” His face was burning, “No, thank you.” Hound sighed again and started to work on his helm, trying to subtly clear off the camera, “I heard from Prowl that communal wash racks were a thing for your enforcers and military?” Biting back a smile, Mirage nodded slightly and cleared his throat, “Uh, yes. Of course a Prowl would tell you that, he’s been both. But, yes, usually though you can feel the other person's EM field.” And Mirage just about choked on his words.

Embarrassment was clearly running hot through the poor mech, though Hound still couldn’t see, let alone feel it, “Yeah, I’ve been told our EM fields are faint to non-existent.” Mirage hummed and shuffled his feet a bit.

“So, I’ve been told you wash primarily with water.” Hound had the helm of his suit shoved under the spray of solvent now, rubbing at his visor and activating the cycling for the cameras, keeping his visual feed to a minimum, “Uh, yes. Solvent in too high of an amount can leave burns.” Now that he was here, he honestly wanted an actual shower not just the car wash. 

Clearing his throat again, Mirage shifted, “You going to be okay then?” Hound smiled a bit and glanced over, visor finally lightening with recognition, “Oh yeah, once in a blue moon isn’t going to kill me.” Mirage winced slightly, “Can you see?” Hound brushed some of the solvent off and started to check through his visual feed, “Uh, yeah, I think so.” With a sudden jerk, Mirage had his arm and was pulling, “Come on, you need to sit near one of the heaters to dry off then.” And he was fast when he wanted them out of there, leaving the solvent running.

Hound was almost embarrassed as his suit was dripping with solvent, dragged over to where Megatron had set up a heater, Mirage frowning deeply at him before looking at Megatron, “Sir, keep an eye on him and I’ll retrieve your ration.” Before even Megatron could say anything the man was gone.

Mirage was burning up with embarrassment and everyone but Hound could see or feel it. 

Sitting down near the heater, Hound leaned back and sighed, whiplash is what he’d call that. His mech was still dripping lightly with solvent. At this moment he was thankful for the tight seals that had been installed for this hapless mission. Megatron leans forward slightly, “Are you alright Hound? Losing a sense like that is never easy.” Nodding slightly, Hound shrugs, “I could see a little bit, but the dust just was sticking to my visor, it’s not a perfect sheet of glass unfortunately.” He lightly touches the visor, taking a second to wipe some of the blood on his face.

Megatron cleared his throat, “And you are sure that you’d be incompatible with some of our replacements?” Houch chuckled slightly, “That is very kind, but unfortunately no. Most of your upgrades won’t work for us. Other than the external weapons you’ve given us, though energon is still toxic.” Megatron hummed, bowing his head slightly.

One hand rubbed over Megatron’s face briefly, staring at the glowing heater as the sun was starting to set, “Your kind are both strong and weak, I apologize if this offends, but your incompatibility with us could get you killed.” Hound smiled sadly and nodded, “I know.” They both stared at the heater.

Hound shifted a bit before sighing slowly, “Sir, do you mind if I ask you a question?” Megatron looked over and nodded slightly, “Go ahead.” Sighing slowly, Hound rubbed at the bandage on his jaw, “Why do you have Mirage on your team? The way Jazz talked about it was that he usually works with Prowl.” He hummed and nodded, “Optimus suggested it, said he would work well with the team I was assembling, which included you of course.” Hound nodded a bit, rubbing his jaw.

”Yes, about that, why exactly did you choose me? There are five of us, you could have had any one of us.” Megatron hummed and shifted on his seat, “Yet, you’re the one who is here.” Hound tilted his head to the side slightly and Megatron held back a groan, “I don’t need your spilt sparks running rampant on my battlefield, they're terribly young. Jazz has worked with Prowl for five and a half stellar cycles, plus they are seeing each other. And I will have Breakdown on this battlefield once he is healed.” Biting his lip, Hound clasped his hands briefly. 

Shaking his head again, clearing his throat was a bit uncomfortable, “Yes sir, but why specifically me. You could have sent me across this insane universe and we’d probably get the same levels of coordination and ground.” Groaning, Megatron shook his head, “That is not the point. This is not about you being a soldier, let alone one because it’s what your creator did. Because that is your function, it is not for that.” Sitting forward again, he leveled his gaze at Hound. 

“I enjoy getting to speak with you Hound, that’s honestly why I requested you for my unit, aside from Mirage. I am a speaker, I was the voice of a revolution and now my voice only carries when speaking to or with the mech I love. Being able to speak to you and be uninterrupted while having simple conversation, reminds me of a simpler time. You hold no expectations, what is that phrase you use? A breath of fresh air. Intelligent conversation with no expectations, no strings, is a very rare and valuable commodity.” It took Hound’s breath away, sitting back a bit he stared at Megatron.

In the months that they had been planet side, he hadn’t felt like he was getting close with any of them, felt rather alien among the mecha. Glancing around at the small group, away from the other pilots for the first time in months, Hound took a breath and nodded a bit, “Thank you sir, I am glad I can be that breath of fresh air.” Mirage smiled over at him as he walked back over with two cubes, handing one to Megatron, though a light blush still covered his face. 

Smiling a bit, Megatron nodded his head, and Hound sat back to look up at the sky which had gone dark a little while ago, turning the orange to red then dark to nearly black other than for the scattering of stars. 

Knockout comes over with his own cube, sighing deeply, “Do we know when they will be entering the system?” Mirage shook his head a bit, sighing deeply as he sipped the warmed energon, “We’re tracking them the best we can, but that still isn’t great.” With a huff, Knockout sat down, frowning. 

With a glance up, Megatron smirked, “Are you pouting because Breakdown is still on medical rest?” Knockout scoffed, “I don’t pout.” Mirage snorted, “That’s scrap and you know it. Hound, what was wrong with Breakdown anyways?” He glances over and Hound turns his mobility assistance back on, setting down his own food and turns on his microphone.

Clearing his throat a bit of the makeshift alien noodle, he tries not to choke on the overly sticky stuff, “He has what we call a concussion, that’s uh, a head injury that can hurt some of our hardware.” He had been waiting for this question, “He’ll be tired, have a hard time with external lighting, be dizzy and have headaches for the first week or two. We all know what to check for so we’ll know when he can go back to duty.” Knockout leans forward, “How do you treat it?” Sighing, Hound rubbed at his neck, dislodging the soaking bandage and tried not to wince as it made a splat sound hitting the floor.

Nodding a bit to cover up the movement, Hound sighs, “With rest and some medications we had stored on the Odyssey. There’s no external work we can do to help this and no software that can be downloaded to repair it. It just takes time.” Humming, Knockout sat back, frowning. Mirage nodded, “Have you had a concussion before?” Chuckling, Hound nods, “Around six of them, I’m lucky to still be a pilot.” Megatron scowled.

“Is it easy for you to experience this injury?” Shrugging slightly, Hound shook his head, “As a pilot, sure, but we’ve done all we can to prevent them. It’s just something that happens.” Megatron nodded and bruded into his energon, Mirage smiled a bit sadly and rested a hand on Hound’s knee.

Mirage cleared his throat a bit, “How’s it been? Separated from your team?” Nodding a bit, Hound glanced around their small group at the edge of the city, enjoying the night and outdoors instead of being up in some tower or building before looking to Megatron briefly and back to Mirage, “It’s a breath of fresh air.” Megatron smiled a bit, shaking his head some.

Knockout was looking around, frowning, while the Hound, Megatron, and Mirage spoke. Relaxing and being able to simply talk.

“Does anyone smell that?” Knockout was frowning intensely, looking around the assembled group, “What?” Mirage glances up, still sipping his cube, “Rust.” Everyone who was eating nearby briefly choked on their food and it went eerily silent as the few people still moving started to glance over their plating. Hound gulped slightly, his neck burning with itchiness. 

———

A/N

I AM ALIVE! But in all seriousness, I have taken the LSAT and now have time to write for a little bit.

I wanted this chapter to be a bit longer since it has been like, two weeks since part 21, so enjoy over 4k words everyone.

Also sorry if the writing is a bit all over the place, it’s my first time writing in just about two weeks.

TAGS

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @childofprimus @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @dimencreasatlas @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @starscreamloverfr @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @blue-wrens @sirassban @astridkolch @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @osqindaxend @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc @echo-circuit @aghostsnail @wooblewooble @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @nonsscarpheap @magichats @iminahole247 @omgflyingderpywhale @pour1tin @thetrexartist

And as always, thank you to the amazing @keferon for this amazing AU and everything involved with it.

[pinkslaystation]

Please we need second part where reader successfully escape and make a run to her parent's alone, your toxic König is too good and amazing well written 😭😭💖

toxic! König x Reader - [King and Prince: My Escape] THANK YOU!! i planned to make a bunch of one-shots under this AU, but this received a lot of love and continuation requests so here it is! I'm also finally finished with exams and coursework, so I'm actually able to breathe a bit now- oh, oh. Never mind, 2nd term starts next week, okay. Trigger warning: Kidnapping, mentions of reader's mental health, poorly translated German (oh how I love you so DeepL.com and ChatGPT) There's also a poem that's mentioned here: "Der Erlkönig" by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, written in 1782. I recommend checking it out, it's a short, yet chilling read!

"Wo ist sie, verdammt?" [where the hell is she?] König mutters to himself, his voice laced with frustration and hurt.

He looks at the now empty ropes with no sign of his wife, huffing at the lack of her presence. In contrast, Leon giggles as he latches onto his father's head whilst sitting on his shoulders.

"Mama's playing a game with us, papa!" He says enthusiastically.

"Was meinst du damit?" [what do you mean?]

Leon hums in mock confusion, "Vielleicht will sie, dass wir sie erwischen." [maybe she wants us to catch her].

It's 9 P.M. and you've running in the middle of a field in nothing but an over-sized sweatshirt and joggers. Of course that fucker decided to tie you up in a basement in the middle of fucking nowhere. In fact, you don't even recall him ever owning that property, something similar to an abandoned farmhouse. But I guess the only animal getting played here...would be you.

You're questioning all the other things he might have hidden from you...other properties...maybe other women...and what's the deal with your son?

"Leon honey, listen. Mama's going to get out of here, and after that we're going to go somewhere safe, okay? We'll go to your grandparents, I'll take you home, okay?" You sweat out, exhausted after numerous times of pulling at the ropes.

"But I'm already home." Leon smiles eerily. There's something broken in that kid, you think. The way he smiles with no emotion makes you fear for your life.

You try to caress the top of his head but the ropes dig at the possibly infected gashes on your wrists, making you hiss in response.

"Mama, you're bleeding." He state inquisitively, grabbing your wrists to examine them.

Groaning at the new contact, you curse out, "FUCK. Leon, stop. Just get me out of this, please sweetie-"

You breath hitches at his expression.

A deep toothy grin is plastered on his face.

"Red's always been mine and papa's favourite colour."

When you're eye catches his red beaded bracelet, the one mirrors König's, a part of you had to come to terms with losing both your husband and your son.

"Stupid kid, should have had a daughter..." You whisper to no one in particular, stretching over thorny bushes and rocks.

You can't tell how long it's been in that room, could be days, could be weeks, but the moment you left the house, it felt like taking a breathe of fresh air for the very first time.

"König, pleas-"

"Schnuki, quiet please, I'm trying to read Leon a poem." König scolds you, whilst sitting on the floor against the wall with Leon resting on his chest. For some reason, they both like to spend time with you.

By spending time with you, that means going about their day, in your presence...just, without paying any attention to you.

"König, I need to fucking piss again."

"Es war eine kalte, dunkle Nacht, und ein Vater ritt mit seinem kleinen Sohn durch einen nebligen Wald." He reads, completely shutting your needs out. [it was a cold, dark night, and a father was riding with his little son through a foggy forest.]

"Kö..." You drag out the syllables to see whether that would make a difference to his reactions. It doesn't.

"Der Junge klammerte sich ängstlich an seinen Vater und flüsterte-" [The boy clung fearfully to his father and whispered-]

Leon speaks out now, clutching his father's shirt as he sleepily recites from the book, "Papa, siehst du ihn nicht? Dort, zwischen den Bäumen! Der Erlkönig ruft nach mir!“ ["Papa, don’t you see him? There, between the trees! The Erlking is calling me!"]

The two giggle at their reenactment.

As they continue their story, the loudly spoken story begins to anger you, for days you've been practically caged in the room, forced to listen to such mundane tasks. Reading a story before bedtime (but they happen to sleep upstairs with actual beds, leaving you to practically rot downstairs), or when König decides to blast his tunes whilst working out, or even when Leon simply chooses to study right in of your shivering body in the afternoon.

"DOES ANYONE HERE HAVE FUNCTIONING EARS?" You scream.

In a instant, König flashes his eyes on you as Leon flinches at the tone of your stern voice.

There's a moment of silence, a quiet battle between you and König, who seems to want to rip your vocal cords and shove them into a book to read about to his son.

"Was haben Sie gerade gesagt?" [what did you just say?] He murmurs with his eyebrows furrowed.

When you don't respond, your son decides to speak up for you.

He turns his head around to berate you, "Sprich dich aus." [speak up]

Your gaze turns to the floor as you watch droplet after droplet hit the surface, "...why."

There's no response. Perhaps, they didn't hear you or perhaps they simply don't know.

"Why are you doing this to me. All I wanted was a husband and a son that respected me. What the fuck did I do to deserve such a shitty family?!"

Before you know it, you begin wailing at the end of your outburst, tears rapidly streaming down your aching cheeks. You look up at the pair, hoping to feign any sense of remorse or sympathy.

But you're met with none.

"Maybe if you hadn't broken this family, you could have got what you wanted."

You're not too sure who spoke, at that point it seems like both father and son began to share a twisted mind.

A large vehicle drives by you and you let out a sigh, maybe there is an escape for you after all.

"Wait! Wait for me!"

The look of pity the driver gives you as you ask them for a lift wasn't as bad as the ones your own family have been giving you for the past few days, so you don't complain. Instead you give a vague description of your parent's house, your childhood home.

With a deep breathe, you make your way to safety, and for a second, you allow sleep to evade you that night. A sleep so deep, you don't hear the quiet ring of a phone...

"Hallo König. Ja, sie ist bei mir. Du hattest recht. Ja, sei einfach da, ich bringe sie in 20 Minuten vorbei." [hello konig. yes, she's with me. you were correct. yes just be there, i'll drop her off in 20 minutes.]

"Miss, we're here. Miss-" The voice urges you to wake up, poking your shoulder as if you were roadkill.

With a groan you awaken, at the sight of your parents house, safety as last.

You thank the driver for troubling him, and for getting blood on his seats, "I'm sorry I don't have anything to repay you with...if you give me a minute, I can run in and get you some cash?" You ask, apologetically.

The stranger shakes his head, "No need, payments been taken care of already."

Oh. Okay, cool.

You squint your eyes in confusion, but choose to brush it off, it's been days since you've engaged in human interaction, maybe you just forgot the small quirky things a person can say.

"...okay, thanks again."

"Bis ich dich wiedersehe." [until i see you again.]

You stop midstep, looking back at the stranger, but he's already hit the pedals and driven off without a trace. That was German, right? See you again?

It seems like a coincidence, and you want to brush it off, but the way he spoke mimicked König's dialect a little too well....Many people speak German though...

You reach the door of your parent's house, admiring yourself in the reflection of the door. A frail being, dressed in tattered clothing, with blood marks decorating your wrist. Afraid of being bombarded with questions, you pull the sleeves of your sweatshirt down and re-tie your hair into something more acceptable.

The door opens and your met with the relieved look of your poor mother.

"Sweetheart, I'm so glad you're okay!" She pulls you into a bone crushing hug, with her face tucked tightly into your shoulder.

Humming against her, you question her, "I'm okay...wait, how did you know? Where's dad?"

"He's okay sweetheart, he's in the living room. But don't think you're off the hook, now that you've come back." She smiles, kissing your forehead, as she guides you through the house.

You scoff, "What do you mean?"

"Running away is a serious matter, don't take it lightly, sweetheart. How do you think we've all felt? I understand, if you're you know..." She starts.

"...Know what?"

"You know, you've become a little..." She spins her finger around her ear in a circular motion, "I guess...cuckoo! Um...but don't worry, we're already looking into treatments."

You stare at her blankly, stopping her, "Ma. I'm fine. W-what- I'm not crazy, where on Eart-"

Every muscle in your body flinches.

It's like your body hit flight or fight mode but instead decided to switch off. You've never remembered a time where your mind has ever been so silent, but I guess now counts.

Those blue eyes.

2 pairs.

Staring back at you, soullessly.

Not a word is spoken.

And yet both your parents seem to be gleaming at the scene, of what looks like a family reuniting.

Family.

If that's even what this is.

"Why did you run away from us, schatz?" [darling]

You can't distinguish between your husband and your son.

"We've missed you."

thank you for coming to my ted talk.

lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum , @kxtz3 , @poohkie90 , @rainlovesyou12 , @restrictionsapply-blog , @lunamoonbby , @nigthmar3moon , @thychuvaluswife, @itsnourm , @bubusi11, @chessecakelover , @owkittie, @cheomain , @corvusmorte , @k4es , @mandythemint , @copiasratscheese , @yyiikes , @funkyysho3es

[greenleaf4stuff]

Of Convenience 9

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage AU, 9th snippet. The evening before they plan to march on Eregion and fight Sauron, Adar and Celebrimbor share one last dinner together. The elf ponders his time with the uruk, and the two husbands share some reassurances. (There is some mildly alluded to/hinted Adar/Sauron and Celebrimbor/Sauron in this, but it can be read as either platonic or romantic imo.)

Remember how I mentioned that I'd write one of their meals if my muse let me? Yeah, have one extra part. As a treat. We are nearing the finish line, slowly but surely, and I am both excited and a lil anxious about it. At least it looks like I might actually get this thing finished, which is still mind-boggling to me. Enjoy!

They'd do it, tomorrow. It still felt surreal to even think it, but tomorrow, the joined armies of Adar and Gil-Galad would march onto Eregion together, demand entry, attack Sauron - and hopefully, free all of middle earth of the looming threat he posed to it.

Everyone had been tense, even downright restless, during the day. Galadriel hadn't been able to sit down during the last round of planning, Elrond had been lost in thought more than not, and Gil-Galad had taken to pinching his brow and twirling Vilya around his finger at times when before, he'd have avoided such obvious tells about his state of mind.

Even Celebrimbor had found himself wringing his hands and fiddling with a writing quill to the point that he'd accidentally frayed it, earlier in the day.

The only one who seemed to become more even-tempered instead of agitated was Adar. The smith had first noticed it when the uruk poured all of them something to drink; whereas Celebrimbor's own hands shook from nerves as he reached to take his cup, Adar held it out steadily for him.

The uruk wandered around the table in an almost leisurely pace, calmly recited the number of his troops or the amount of war machinery he possessed, and pointed out potential weak points of the city walls as well as how their alliance might safely breach them in case the city was truly lost to the Deceiver - all with nary a hint of emotion.

It was eye-opening, in a sense, to see how Adar appeared to thrive in a time that spelt dread for most others. The smith needed to mull this over, for a time, until he realized that this was likely due to how the uruk had lived most of their lives. Always prepared for a battle, for an attack, for aggression.

They knew war, understood war, even if they wished to avoid it when it came to Eregion. Most likely, they'd been forced into it by Morgoth. And then, after the fallen valar had been banished and Sauron temporarily defeated, they'd had to live it once more, when the other races of middle earth turned their backs instead of reaching out to them.

These and similar thoughts haunted Celebrimbor's mind as he and Adar sat down together for dinner later that day - the final one they would have together in this camp, before facing their enemy tomorrow.

As the elf watched Adar eat, looking almost completely unperturbed, while Celebrimbor merely picked at his own food. Mixed in with his worries, there was a sense of melancholy that demanded closer attention.

He hadn't been in the uruk camp for long, all things considered. A few weeks, at most. And yet, he had found a sense of normalcy here, between negotiations and exploring the camp with Glûg, tinkering at Gurlak's forge and having conversations with Adar. Especially the latter part.

The elf's feelings towards his husband had gone through rapid changes in those few weeks. From initial fear and distrust, to brief resignation, to hope, ease, curiosity. Mutual respect, a sense of camaderie, then companionship. 

Friendship.

Affection.

Something the smith couldn't - didn't dare to - name yet.

When Celebrimbor looked up again, hoping to catch another glance of his husband's face while the other focused wholly on his meal, the smith felt warm when he found that the uruk was already watching him instead.

There was a moment as Adar chewed and swallowed whatever he had been eating, before stared pointedly at Celebrimbor's plate. "Is the food not to your liking today?" A pause. "Or is something else the matter?"

The elf exhaled, long and loud, and felt his shoulders sink in defeat. He put aside his fork. His meal had surely gone cold by now, and he didn't feel able to stomach any more anyways. "The food is as good as always. I just find myself...distracted, today."

Adar hummed. "That is to be expected. I think all of us are having mixed feelings about tomorrow," he replied, and held Celebrimbor's gaze. "But remember it is not just a simple fight. It is the chance to save all of middle earth for generations to come - possibly even for good."

The elf nodded, and tried to will his face into a more hopeful expression, but it wouldn't obey him. There were a great many things that troubled him; some that had done so for weeks, some that recently started to keep his mind occupied. Now, they threatened to overwhelm him. "You are right. I should try and focus on the positive side of things. But I find it hard not to- have some lingering apprehension."

He found his own eyes had wandered the tent as the spoke, unable to focus on the uruk, and the smith had to consciously pull them back toward his husband. Who did, in fact, still watch him. Adar's eyes were intense, and it felt as if he could see all of Celebrimbor's doubts in that moment.

"You aren't feeling ready to face him tomorrow, aren't you?" the uruk asked.

Celebrimbor tensed in response - he had not expected the other to see his deepest fears and lay them out, bared to both their gaze in the space between them.

But the look in Adar's eyes was one of understanding, and his tone soft as he spoke, and so the smith felt safe enough to be honest with himself as well as his husband.

"No, I do not," he admitted, and heard his voice crack before he cleared his throat and sat up straighter. He balled his hands, which he had placed in his lap, into fists to stop them from shaking. "I fear what I will find, walking back into that city. What he might have done to it. To my forge, to my subjects. My apprentices, my - friends."

"But most of all, I am terrified of having to be so close to him again," his voice was small. "Of what he might do, how he might try and twist my own mind against me, my ambitions and my insecurities. What if he gets a hold of me again and I cannot resist him this time?" The question was directed at no one, but it was one that had kept him on his feet, twitchy and eager to occupy his mind with other things.

It was a deep-seated fear that had gnawed away at him, so insidious he hadn't even dared to admit it to himself until then. He'd tired to push it away for all those last weeks, at least until it became apparent that their negotiations would actually lead somewhere, as their alliance finally took shape.

He was startled from his thoughts when Adar spoke up. Still, his voice was soft. If he hadn't been under Morgoth's command and suffered whatever had scarred body, Celebrimbor suspected the other's singing voice might have rivalled the beauty and candence of Maglor himself.

"Back then, in the First Age, when I freed my children. I did not feel ready to face him either," Adar revealed.

The elf needed a moment to fully comprehend the words, and as he did, his eyes widened.

The uruk was still looking directly at Celebrimbor, but when the elf remained silent - too stunned to speak - Adar continued. He propped up his elbow and let the fingers of his gauntleted hand rub against one another as his face tilted to the right of him, a faraway look in his eyes.

"Back then, it had already been centuries, even millenia, that I had served in his master's ranks alongside him. Mairon, as he was still called back then, had been friend and foe alike, at least I thought so. I followed him and his master's lead, both because I thought there was no other way, and because I could not make myself leave even when I hoped to create another path to walk instead."

"Each time I threatened to falter, he managed to coax, plead or seduce me back into perfect loyalty. Even when they twisted and scarred my children, even during all the wars they made me wage for them. He told me it would all lead to a future where my children and I could be free. And I believed him."

"It was only when he began to sacrifice them in droves for his 'unseen world' project, when he grew the idea of subjecting all living things not just to his yoke, but his very thoughts, that something changed."

There was a long pause. Celebrimbor did not even dare breathe too loudly, much less move. He could not take his eyes off of Adar, who looked both so regal and so frail in that very moment.

"I could not bear the idea of losing any more of my children. Or any more of me. But even then- it was the most terrifying thought I'd ever had, and the most terrifying thing I had attempted. I still see myself killing him on the back of my eyelids during bad nights. And each time, I still feel the same fear as I did back then."

Finally, Adar looked at Celebrimbor again. The elf felt unmoored, as if he were floating, from the sheer depth of compassion he saw in those eyes. "Believe me when I tell you - I fear tomorrow the same as you do."

Celebrimbor swallowed, and felt his eyes cloud over a little, before he blinked the moisture away and looked down, trying to hide his reaction.

He heard Adar get up from his chair and walk over towards him, at which point the smith lifted his head in surprise. Adar was still watching him, but his look was changing from one of compassion to a different expression, one that the elf couldn't quite place-

The uruk sat down on his haunches next to Celebrimbor's chair, and placed his bare hand onto the elf's wrist. Warmth seeped through his robe and he felt as if it were spreading through across his whole body. It brought Celebrimbor back to himself, made him feel grounded and- safe.

"I did it for my children, back then," the uruk explained. "All you have told me, all that I have seen you do, made it clear to me that you too care about your people in such a way as I do mine. And look how far it has brought us. Few believed this alliance could be achieved, yet we did. Neither of us has to face him alone now."

"I did not falter when it mattered most, back then. I will not falter now. And neither will you. I am sure of it."

Celebrimbor could only describe the way he felt as 'thunderstruck'. The nagging voice in the back of his mind, his doubts, all of it seemed to fall away at Adar's words, the way he said them so confidently, with an assuredness that made the elf unable to even question, much less contradict him.

If Adar believed that they would succeed, then they would. There was no other option. Perhaps, the elf mused, this was part of why Adar was such a good leader to the uruk.

When Celebrimbor didn't speak, Adar lightly squeezed his wrist. This, of all things, helped Celebrimbor regain his speech with a slight jolt. The warmth of their contact continued to spread through him. Yes, this- this was definitely affection he was feeling. Fondness.

"I do not just fear for my own people," the elf replied, voice still quiet. "I fear for yours as well. I have made...friends, among them. Glûg, and Gurlak. I know Glûg has a wife and child. Gurlak has apprentices like I had- have, in Eregion."

At that, a light quirk stole itself onto Adar's lips. The elf felt his gaze being drawn to the motion. Whenever Adar smiled, even just a little, it seemed to transform his whole face.

"And I am pleased that you have. As I said. I did not think it could be done, a friendship between elves and uruk. I am glad you helped prove me wrong - and everyone else, too."

Celebrimbor tried to say more, even as his words threatened to flee him again, but Adar was too quick for him to do so as the uruk got up again.

"Rest. I need to check on my lieutenants and help ready the troops for tomorrow. Perhaps you might be able to eat a bit more, yet," Adar said. As he walked behind the elf's chair, towards the entrance of the tent, his hand slid from Celebrimbor's wrist, up his arm and to his shoulder, which he squeezed softly with his hand.

Adar's words, his touch, the way it made Celebrimbor's heart seize and then feel as if it might burst in his chest, made the smith quickly reach up with his own hand and catch Adar's where it lay, grasping it and keeping it locked in place.

A shuddery breath, and he turned his head up at the other.

The uruk was looking at him still, but his face was more placid now. He was so quick, so skilled, at hiding himself away.

There were so many things the smith had said in his life - he'd given rousing speeches, encouragements to his apprentices. Affirmations for his friends, praise for Elrond, Galadriel and Gil-Galad for their accomplishments, tender words to those who had endured great losses.

And yet, now, his words had utterly deserted him.

He wanted to tell Adar so many things - 'I am glad we achieved a treaty for our people.' 'You are nothing like I expected.' 'I am glad you are here.' 'You and your words have calmed me like no other could.' 'I worry about you most of all.' 'I cannot explain what I am feeling, but the thought of losing you terrifies me, I think I might not be able to bear it.'

'Meeting you has been a coincidence, but I am glad it did happen, despite the circumstances.' 'I liken your eyes to gemstones in my thoughts and I want to craft you jewelry that fit their shade.' 'I wish I knew how to ask to repair your armor, so I might protect you like you did me.'

'I think I feel more for you than a husband in a political marriage typically does. Certainly more than I expected to feel.'

But, overwhelmed by his own revelations, the only thing he managed to say was "Thank you, Adar, for your reassurance. I am not sure if I might ever be ready to face him, but. You are right. And I am glad not to be alone this time," a pause. "You are not alone this time, either."

There was another small smile on Adar's lips, but it made Celebrimbor feel dejected instead of elated, for it seemed to hold no happiness, nor humor.

"You are very welcome, Celebrimbor. Now, as I said - eat. I will be joining you again once I am done," and with that, Adar stepped away as he pulled his hand out of Celebrimbor's grasp, and was gone from the tent before the elven smith could protest.

He sat there, his own hand still resting on his shoulder, still and quiet and all by himself. His heart still felt too big for his chest, but now, it also felt is if someone were tearing it apart.

Never in his life had Celebrimbor felt so utterly, completely bereft before. As if something intangible, yet very crucial and important, had just slipped through his fingers. And he felt terribly unsure if he would have the chance to ever reclaim it.

This, instead the thought of facing Sauron come tomorrow, scared him most of all.

[just-your-average-shiz-student]

Agreed to everything, but I think another aspect of the narrative that creates this double standard when it comes to Glinda and Fiyero – despite the fact that they’re extremely similar in some of their flaws – comes from the audience’s perspective regarding actions seen and unseen.

I see it as an accidental effect (I don’t think the musical meant for Glinda to come off half as unsympathetic as she does to the people criticising her actions, nor Fiyero to come out as unscathed as he does in their perception), but real regardless. The core of it is:

We see Glinda reject the offer from Elphaba.

We actually get to see their falling out, the cruel words exchanged in the beginning of the song, the tears, the brief hope, the heartbreak and the separation.

Similarly, contrary to Fiyero, who we don’t get to see doing all the horrible things being captain of the guard would demand he do --

(I need people who call him a double agent to shut up; he’s been doing it for years! He’d have to do questionable and outright bad things regardless of his real moral posturing or actual acts of defiance here and there, otherwise people would’ve gotten suspicious and potentially imprisoned or executed him)

-- Glinda does get to show the audience what she’s been doing this whole time! That’s what Thank Goodness is! We see her doing her work as a mouthpiece for everything that the Wizard believes (or at least what he needs the Ozians to believe), all while Madame Morrible is silently watching, a constant shadow keeping an eye on her every step.

Spewing propaganda against a woman she not only knows has done nothing wrong but who also has a deep emotional significance to her is, indeed, objectionably terrible, but it’s also a job that requires way less direct violent action than what Fiyero is doing, and yet people choose to focus on all the wrongs GLINDA has been doing and all the ways GLINDA has betrayed Elphaba, while Fiyero’s wrongs seem to go unnoticed or even dismissed.

Because contrary to Glinda’s, we don’t see them.

And in storytelling, having something not be shown is almost the same as it never happening in the first place, at least for the person experiencing the story.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m painfully aware that some people are just more willing to point fingers at Glinda and justify every single thing Fiyero’s ever done because of the usual “Woman does bad thing: Evil; Man does bad thing: He had his reasons” mentality. Nothing new.

However, I also think that the way the musical is structured contributes, albeit unintentionally, to this perception of their characters. The second act in particular has some pacing issues, and I feel like it’s not given nearly enough time to resolve or even explore all the subplots and loose ends left by the first act.

I’m not bashing it, Oz, no! It’s my favourite musical. But I am more than glad that the film format allows for much more time focusing on character motivations and each step they take before acting. It worked wonders for Part One and I have high hopes that it will continue to do so in Wicked: For Good.

[Wicked Act II spoilers]

[edited for tone and clarity of purpose, apologies for initial crudeness and frustration]

Okay, obviously I'm biased, but I'm gonna need the Fiyeraba shippers to please set a lot of your people straight about some things. I've seen way too many people trying to say that Glinda is just a selfish bimbo and that Fiyero is a virtuous and selfless figure more worthy of Elphaba's love. I'll set aside for now the idea of "worthiness" in this context. But let's start off with Fiyero joining the Wizard. Hoo boy...

Yes, he was initially somewhat less tolerant of the propaganda against Elphaba than Glinda was; yes, he was secretly trying to find her so he could run away with her or whatever. But honey: those facts DO NOT fully absolve his actions as the Wizard's top officer, or selfish recklessness throughout Act II. I see so many popular threads and posts romanticizing and whitewashing with "oh but he didn't REALLY join the Wizard, he just pretended so he could try to get to Elphie! It's all for love, and he sacrificed everything for her!" As if the literal captain of the literally fascist forces responsible for the oppression of Animals wasn't equally responsible for said oppression?? Hello? Fiyero really didn't think of seeking out Elphaba in ANY other way that DIDN'T involve becoming *checks notes*... the trusted leader of the troops committing all the abuses she's fighting against in the first place???? Like it's cool and all that he helped with Brrr, and it's all well and good that he planned on betraying the Wizard as soon as he found Elphaba (which took literal years, so I guess we're left to assume he was prepared to just keep doing fascism indefinitely if she didn't show up????), but uh... it's kind of concerning to how eager some of you are to make excuses for this dude volunteering as the head of the Ozian Gestapo??? smdh

He didn't accomplish anything from it either, by the way — like yeah, we get it, he did everything he did whilst silently fantasizing about running away with the Witch he was being paid to hunt. Fine. But I can't be the only one who doesn't buy that as an actual excuse???? Like, guys: nobody forced him to join the fascist army — even with crazy ulterior motives. He wasn't coerced into it; it wasn't his only choice or anything. Searching for Elphaba did not somehow compel him to go and volunteer to follow (or to give!) orders in the name of the dictator who was trying to have her assassinated the entire time. He could have just not done all that. (Genuinely so curious how the second film plans on covering that material tbh)

Glinda made several questionable decisions that can be (and have been) debated, but she is still very unambiguously a victim. Her position in the Wizard's regime was foisted upon her. There are things we can discuss, but I find that many folks need reminding that Glinda would undoubtedly have been disposed of (or worse) if she failed to make herself useful. I mean hell: she wasn't even supposed to meet the Wizard in the first place — she was only there because of Elphie. If she'd tried to resist, it would have immediately gotten her labeled the Witch's accomplice. As soon as she'd chosen not to get on the broom, her fate was out of her hands, and all available options were varying degrees of horrible.

That's not the case with Fiyero. He went to the Wizard all on his own; no one ever cornered or forced him into it. Thinking Animals are people, and having a crush on Elphaba, simply did not stop him from carrying out the regime's orders — for years. It's not clear exactly how long he's been captain at the start of Act II, but the clear implication is that he's been a soldier for most of the time skip. I've seen Fiyeraba accounts with headcanons about him acting as a double agent, secretly doing stuff to help Animals — and that's a great idea, it would indeed serve to make a lot of his actions way more palatable — but until we actually get to SEE some of that (maybe they'll add it for the movie version of Act II; we'll have to see), there is nothing in the story to suggest that. He certainly didn't do a damn thing for all those Animals who were enslaved and caged in the Wizard's palace — and we don't see a single other Animal outside of there in Act II, so as far as we know Fiyero has participated over those years in the near-total removal of Animals from Ozian society. In the name of "finding Elphaba". Not fighting for her cause. Just finding HER. For HIMSELF.

It's fine to have a ship you like, obviously — and there is genuinely a lot to like about Fiyeraba, I don't dislike the idea of them as a couple or as friends — but come on guys: please stop those out there idealizing Fiyero as somehow a clear "morally-superior" alternative to Glinda, lol. The dude had power, access, and opportunities, for years, that he could have wielded in any number of really selfless, revolutionary ways. He didn't. And I propose (apparently controversially): he simply didn't want to. And that — at the end of the day — is (much as some would like to deny it) true to his character. He always WANTED to be self-absorbed and shallow, and all his actions are consistent with that. Elphaba saw depth and discontentment in him, yes: but (and I cannot stress this enough) when given the chance, he channeled that in the wrong direction. He didn't confront that and become a better person — for the most part he just displaced and projected it onto Elphaba as an object of obsession, and put on an even thicker pretense than before.

All his actions — regardless of the complexity he has deep down — are those of a man who never gives one fuck about anything or anyone, except (kinda sorta) Elphaba. But even then: at no time does the care he has for her seem to extend to caring about any of her wants or needs outside of sexual validation from him, or how she might feel about his actions, or indeed the impacts of those actions upon her, her cause, or anyone or anything else. I don't think it should be all that controversial to say: he doesn't think through the wider repercussions of anything he does — thoughtlessness is just one of his core character traits. He doesn't think ahead or see meaning in anything outside of what can temporarily excite him, in the moment. I think people place a little too much weight on Elphaba clocking him with regard to his internal pain, and seem to expect (understandably of course) that she is not only right, but moreover that he will grow from that in a positive direction, based on her influence.

But he doesn't. If anything, we get a surprising inverse: he pretty much proves her wrong. Not to say he didn't have hidden depth and all that, like she said: but his hypothetical heart of gold proves not to really amount to much in practice. He doesn't grow out of his shallowness and his self-centeredness: he grows into it in a way that he hadn't quite yet in school. Where once he was only masking an internal listlessness, after he's been cracked open by Elphaba he decides to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow, not just coasting by. He performs in new ways — as a soldier, eventually as a "fiancé", etc. — but by Act II we meet a Fiyero who has staked the last remaining shred of humanity in him on the vain pursuit of the only object of his desire that has ever been unavailable to him, and firmly chosen to say to hell with everyone and everything else.

When put to the test, Fiyero sacrifices Glinda, the Animals, and all else that Elphaba actually cared about, to pursue his own unresolved crush from college. Mostly to get in her pants, really — as harsh as I'm sure that sounds. But let me be frank: that is literally all he ever accomplishes in the show. He gives her dick one time, and one of his castles, and that's it. That's the culmination of his years trying to find her — years in which he actively worked as one of the stormtroopers (or even the one commanding them) committing untold crimes against Animalkind (who, again, it seems have been all but erased from Oz by Act II): y'know, the very crimes Elphaba sacrificed her life to try and stop????? He spent the most important time of his life — of his own free will — being a fascist soldier, but he "did it for her" somehow, so according to some, it's perfectly fine. Heroic, even. Yikes??

But let's make something very clear (since my original version of this post caught a lot of flak, including slurs and other rudeness):

I like Fiyero. I find his role extremely interesting (I could do a whole dissertation on him, but I'm especially a fan of the way his proving Elphaba's assessment of him wrong presents a fascinating parallel and contrast with Glinda, which I think is lost on a lot of people). But PLEASE stop with all the misguided Glinda slander and idealization of Fiyero. By all means, thirst! But don't give me all this bullshit about him deserving Elphaba more, or being super deep, or being really principled or noble or whatever else. He does have layers, and quite intriguing ones, but his insides are straw — he isn't meant to have some deep, overwrought emotional core or motivations; he has passions that he acts upon when given the chance. That's it. And that's fine. Actually kind of refreshing in a story rooted in simple children's fantasy but rife with intensely complicated personalities. Fiyero makes it his mission to represent denial of depth and embrace of raw, spontaneous desire — and I for one love that, and wish others appreciated it.

And in all seriousness, shipping wars aside: by the end of the story, it's Glinda who is ultimately vindicated, and has — for all her faults — made the necessary choices to fulfill Elphaba's wishes, bring down the regime, etc. And all that despite herself. She's miserable: not just because of the mistakes she made, but because of her correct moves as well. Fiyero is simply not — and could never be — that person. And that's okay! Like I said: I am not anti-Fiyero. Fiyero's willingness to throw it all away for the sake of sheer, overriding passion is a huge part of what people like about him, of course — and it's an obvious factor in the attraction between him and Elphaba, because she has her own flavor of that impulse as well — but I'd actually argue that it's not romantic, it's his fatal flaw. And thematically that's fantastic! But I just don't believe that it somehow means he "deserves Elphaba more" because he "gave up his life for her" or whatever. In part because NOBODY truly "deserves" Elphie tbh, not 100% (and I question anybody who claims otherwise), but ultimately because I don't accept the idea that his fleeting acts of passion make up for all the shit leading up to them (or even proceeding after them tbh). At least Glinda managed to do what Elphaba always wanted in the end — but I would die on this hill even if Gelphie didn't exist.

You don't have to agree with my analysis of Fiyero and his choices, relationships, etc. — that's fine. What isn't fine is trying to portray Glinda as some kind of spineless traitor whore for the Wizard and Fiyero as a conscientious hero who earned Elphie through self-sacrifice. That's just not the story that was written. It's WAY messier and more interesting than that.

[beautysurvives]

also don’t see enough ppl acknowledge how Dean and Jack are going through such similar journeys in s14. The parallels between Jack losing his soul and the s6 soulless Sam arc are right there on the surface, but what Dean is going through with Michael is also a huge parallel.

I know people get mad at Dean for putting Jack in the Ma’lak box, and I guess it’s easy to forget that Dean’s original plan was to put himself in there. The way Dean blames himself for Michael’s escape (the line is something like “I let my guard down”) is something that gets echoed by Jack so many times, about failing to kill Michael and getting tricked by Lucifer. Jack thinks it’s his fault for not being strong enough. His fault for being too trusting.

And the fact that Dean didn’t put himself in the Ma’lak box — the fact that he allowed his family to convince him not to — that he let his emotional connections guide him rather than his instincts — probably feels like another huge failure for him, and it 100% connects to Mary’s death. Not just because he’s grieving her, not just because he indirectly got her killed, but because, for him, she represents emotional vulnerability and honesty and connection, everything that he believes family should be. Trust and safety, and most importantly, the presence of a parent/matriarch/patriarch — because if she’s gone, who’s left to lead the family? The responsibility has always fallen on his shoulders as the older brother without a stable father figure, but Dean has never wanted this role, and at this point is really not equipped to handle it. Once Mary came around to filling that role in s14, a bit of the weight was lifted from Dean’s shoulders.

And now that ability to breathe a little easier, to start accepting Jack as his own son with the knowledge that, this time, he doesn’t have to feel like he’s the only person responsible for a kid’s life — all of that, to Dean, was his own mistake. It’s a reminder not to trust, not to be emotional, not to form new attachments, and especially not to feel safe or happy (another huge theme in this season: happiness leading to death)

Because if he had just gone in the box, Michael wouldn’t have gotten out, all those hunters wouldn’t have died, and Jack wouldn’t have burned the last of his soul to save him. And if we go even further back, if Dean had never said yes to AU Michael in the first place — which, if you remember, was to save Sam (and Jack, who also doubles as Sam’s foil) from Lucifer.

Another important detail is how in his s12 confrontation with Mary (in Who We Are), Dean blames her for everything that happened in her absence — including Sam losing his soul. Although in that situation, prior to Mary’s resurrection, the main person who could’ve been blamed for that was Cas, and even that (in Dean’s mind) was a reach, because I’m sure he believed that Cas was telling the truth about it being a mistake, and at the end of the day no one really knew why Sam lost his soul. Similarly, many of the things that Sam did while soulless were blamed on Sam himself, which, in light of what we saw in s11 and with Donatello (that not having a soul doesn’t automatically make you harmful), kind of holds up. But still, who can be blamed for mistakes, errors in judgment, or consequences of risky decisions made in the absence of crucial information. Mary, like Chuck and Amara in s15, becomes that person simply by virtue of being a parent. Which is also why it’s so easy for Dean to start placing all the blame on Cas for failing to warn him about Jack killing the snake, and then failing to get back in time to warn them — being absent when they needed him there most. Regardless of how Dean has been behaving towards Jack, regardless of his own internal feelings of parenthood, Cas is the only one in tfw who has claimed responsibility for Jack, verbally identified himself as Jacks father, and accepted blame by apologizing.

People often point out how Sam behaves like a parent to Jack, but I think they miss the opportunity to connect this to the role Dean had to play after Mary’s death when he was a child. Sam sees Jacks need for another father figure besides Cas, just as Dean did for Sam when they were children — which is something I think Dean recognizes in s15, when he says “I tried the family thing, didn’t work” and Sam says “Yeah, me too.” Dean could be talking about Cas and Jack, or Lisa and Ben, but Sam is most likely talking about Jack. And if you watch the scene, there’s this little look from Dean that I’ve always read as guilt, because imo he does see Jack as his child, and regrets that Sam was parentified in his absence.

But when it comes to Dean himself, as one of Jack’s parents, he completely deflects blame in light of Mary’s death. He starts acting like he never saw Jack as family — and like his relationship with Cas was never “real” — and it’s especially easy because they’ve never had an actual out loud conversation where they explicitly defined Dean’s significance to either of them. His rejection of Jack as a family member — and his subsequent rejection of Cas as a partner — is not because Dean never loved/cared about him — it’s a rejection of responsibility. It’s his inability to recognize himself as partially culpable (and he is, because, despite his relative passivity at the start, he went along wholeheartedly with the plan to use Jack’s soul to bring him back, and he, like Cas and Sam, put the responsibility to make sure that Jack didn’t lose his soul on other people AND allowed Jack to be unsupervised and put in situations where he’d be tempted to use his powers AND didn’t even allow himself to see the warning signs — and none of this makes it entirely Dean’s fault, because of course he was dealing with his own Michael crisis — he was hardly in a position to really act like a good parent, which he knew) — but the death of Mary also means the absence of a central figure to blame. It is the absence of a leader.

So when Chuck appears and gives him the Equalizer — the gun that will kill both its target and the person wielding it — of course he’ll take that deal. God is telling him to do it, and that it’s the only way — and without Mary present to remind him that she wouldn’t want this (which he realizes on his own later), he believes it.

Of course he’ll die killing Jack, because in Dean’s heart he sees them as the same person. He sees them as equally to blame. And it’s so connected to everything that came before Jack too — it’s a fitting punishment for the mistake Dean’s been making over and over again since episode one — since his father first told him that he’d have to kill Sam. Since he refused, time and again. Since he let himself get close to Cas just to get betrayed over and over. Since he decided to team up with Crowley, despite that warning he’d been given (if John saw you working with a demon…) Since he saved Baby Amara, not knowing that she’d grow up to be the darkness. Letting his love and compassion and empathy blind him to something that, in his mind — in any good hunter’s mind — should be black and white. The monster is supposed to die, even if it looks like you. It shouldn’t matter how you feel because feeling means the monsters win.