#and also bc im always willing to hear ideas no matter what lmao

[nii-chans-rabiddogs]

Kennels

TWs: Dehumanization, muzzles, collars, restraints. Sorry it took so long, but have fun <3

@cupcakes-and-pain @maracujatangerine

It’s been a bit since I was left here, and I spent the first long while just trying not to cry. I’m scared and insulted and really wanna leave, but I dunno how to undo the latch, and I can’t try right now anyways. A buncha people keep walking through the door to the hall, but none of them say anything or even glance over when they pass by. They’d put me right back in if I got out, which is rude. They all have the same type of outfit though, which actually looks okay-ish. There are so many pockets, and they all have earpieces and some of them have special gloves, but those ones are also carrying some stuff in boxes. Whatever it was, there’s a lot of it, cuz they keep bringing in more and more, while another couple of people watch and type stuff on tablets, before talking into their earpieces. They said something about shipments and gear, but I can’t hear much of it. 

Another person walks by, and she’s wearing a really cool purple cape. One of the carrier people called her Royal, which was a cool name, but I’m not sure how you get Royal from the color purple. Actually, her entire costume was purple, but the main part of it looked black at first cuz of how dark it was. Her boots are dark purple, but not as dark as the body part. Her gloves are really bright though, and they shimmer like they’re almost reflective. Royal looked straight forward as she walked through the kennels, talking to one of the tablet guys about finding a new dealer for PowerSurge gear. Apparently, the old one went to meet his husband, but I don’t know why they haveta get a new dealer if he’s just visiting his husband. Maybe they just got married and went on their honeymoon? Wait, why do so many people try to put honey on the moon? And only after they get married? There’s no reason, and I don’t think normal people can afford a trip to the moon, that sounds really super expensive. Maybe- oh,what?

A group of carriers just called Seren out. She leans out to them from the backroom, barely glancing at them before nodding and grabbing her keychain from somewhere. Royal steps back to let her through, and she walks out to the kennel on my right, unlatching it and stepping back while the carriers grab the animal from under the little dog house thingie it was in. It looked like a mix of a very tiny tiger and lion, but wrong, like someone had stitched together two different stuffed animals badly. The carriers pick it up, placing it in a large cage and padlocking it shut. They slap a sticker on it, before a tablet guy types something and nods. The carriers lift up the kennel and bring it back out. It was all really quiet, barely anyone saying anything, and Seren looked bored. 

“We’re locating a new dealer, so expect a minor delay in mass shipments. Customs aren’t affected. You’ll be notified when a new dealer has been selected and approved.” Royal said, voice sounding as emotionless as a rock. She stared at Seren the entire time, making eye contact until Seren nodded. How can someone make eye contact that long, doesn’t it hurt? Royal snapped her fingers and all the carriers and tablet guys that are left started grabbing their stuff and leaving. No one said anything else, and I really wish I could ask questions, or at least mess with something. It feels like my blood is electrified, but I can’t move or talk or do anything and it's the worst. I shook my arms a little bit, but it didn’t help and just irritated my wrists. I really wish I was with detective or Skyrise or Monsoon right now, they wouldn’t do anything to me or make me sit still. They’d let me run and wiggle and shake my hands around as much as I wanted, and they yelled at the one mean guy who told me I needed to have quiet hands, but I dunno what he meant but that. Monsoon got really angry when I mentioned it, so maybe it was an insult? But why? And how would you quiet your hands, they already don’t make much noise unless you’re slamming them on stuff or clapping, and I wasn’t. It was very confusing, so I just walked away from him. 

Oh yeah, I remembered a bit of before I woke up, when everything was spinny. Doctor Everly said it was a quiet hospital, but he lied to me which is rude and mean and he should be the one wearing this stupid muzzle if he’s gonna lie like that. But I don’t know what those rooms were, and I don’t ever wanna go back in them, cuz they were super cold and scary. I shivered, and tucked my arms closer to my body again, wishing the supercuffs were just normal handcuffs. If they were I’d be able to make the lights go out with a real big shock. It wouldn’t help I don’t think, but it would be fun to watch people scramble around in the dark. I also woulda shocked the Doctor and Seren, too, cuz they’re mean and scary and I don’t like them at all. 

“Alright pup, here’s the deal. Hunter is determined to keep you no matter what happens in your little interrogation, so we are goin’ to try out some gear for the few hours you have until he gets done with business. Behave yourself and you might get some treats, puppy.” Seren called out suddenly, walking out with a lead rope meant for strays.

She unlatched the kennel door, and I shrunk back again. I glared at her, but it didn’t do anything except make her chuckle. I tried to stay as far away as I could, but she shot her hand out to grab my ankle and yank me towards her. I panicked and whined as my head hit the floor, while she looped the lead over my head and tugged until it was snug against my neck. I tried to wriggle and push her away, but she just grabbed my hands and yanked me into the air like I was a piece of paper. I don’t like this, and now my head hurts and she’s scary and she’s gonna hurt me and-

“Aw, puppy, no need to look so scared. We’re just trying out some training gear, okay? No need for the teary eyes or breath holdin’, pup. This is happening no matter what, and it would be easier if you just listened to me.” 

I immediately shook my head, cuz Doctor lied and she might be lying too and I don’t wanna go with her cuz she’ll hurt me or yell at me or- Ack! I choked as Seren suddenly yanked the lead forward, and stumbled forward a couple of steps. I looked at her with wide eyes, shaking a little bit, and she raised her eyebrow. She pulled on the lead so I took another step cuz I didn’t wanna choke again cuz that was really scary and I’d end up back in the warehouse with Detective yelling at me and, and he’d be really mad and- no, don’t think about that, just- Just follow Seren, and then there’s no choking or yanking and you won't go back, right?

I whined and shook my head, following behind Seren as she slowly took us to the backroom. There’s a lot of weird vests, and all sorts of collars and leashes and muzzles on hooks on one wall. The wall on the right had some gray cabinets, and underneath them there’s a table with some remotes and bags of snacks and treats. Set in the floor are some loops, but they’re cut weird and kinda look like a heavy metal carabiner. Seren hooked me to the one closest to the hooks on the walls, and I had to sit down so I wouldn’t choke. She grabbed a collar that was all metal and looked really heavy, that had a loop in the front, and I ducked my head down a little cuz it looked scary. She pressed something and it beeped once, then lit up two lines on the inside of the collar. Seren nodded, grabbing a remote and messing with the two until they both beeped a couple of times, then pocketing the remote and turning back to me. I shook my head again, trying to shrink into myself but she just sighed and stopped right in front of me. I stayed curled as small as I could, but I couldn’t stop shaking. She didn’t do anything for a couple of seconds, and sighed before saying:

“You’re a real anxious pup, ain’t ya? If it makes you feel any better, Hunter said I’m not allowed to hurt you at all. Not even a papercut. I wouldn’t anyways, but now it’s enforced by an order. Now, he also wants you to be wearing all the… corrective gear, and this is one of them. I know the collar looks a little scary, but it’s just like those power-suppressing cuffs. That’s all it does, puppy. If you sit up for me, I’ll even swap out the muzzle for something a little nicer, yeah?”

I wanna shake my head again, but the muzzle is also really tight and makes my jaw ache a bit… But the collar is also really scary and it might hurt. Maybe, maybe she isn’t lying? She- if Hunter said she couldn’t hurt me then she’d be alotta trouble if she did, so she can’t, right? I huffed, before very very slowly sitting up. I stayed curled down, but only a little and I haven’t stopped shaking. She lifted my head up, and I flinched back but she just tightened her grip to keep me in place. I whimpered and tried to pull my head away a little, but she was already undoing the first weird collar, so I just froze. She pulled it off, and slid the heavy one around before adjusting it to rest a little bit above my shoulders. She pulled it tight, and finally let go of my head to walk around and click it closed. She fiddled with it for a second and there was another click, and she stepped back. 

“See? That wasn’t so bad. Let’s get a harness and leash on you, then I’ll swap the muzzles and give you a treat, puppy. Give me your hands, I need to take off the cuffs for this part.” She commanded, walking back around and crouching in front of me. I hesitated, then reluctantly held my wrists out to her. She twisted them weirdly for a second, then they clicked and fell into her hand. 

I stared at my wrists, trying to figure out how she unlocked them, cuz she didn't pull out a key or anything, just twisted it. I rubbed my wrists a little bit, and looked back up at her. She grabbed a weird vest, apparently a harness, and a leash that was bright yellow and said “NERVOUS” in big letters. I folded my arms into my stomach as she came back, trying not to curl into a ball again. She pulled the stray-lead towards herself, and loosened until she could pull it off and set it to the side. She grabbed the harness, and undid a bunch of buckles and a zipper on the harness, then made me lift my arms up a little bit. She placed it on my chest and slid four of the buckles over my shoulders, and the ones on the sides around to the back. Two of the four she buckled just under the heavy collar from the front, then moved to the back and zipped the harness closed. She tugged it up a little to clip to the other two buckles over my shoulders to hold the harness up. I heard three clicks as she closed the rest of the buckles on the back, and I moved my shoulders around as I got used to the almost too-tight harness. It was kinda like a vest, with fabric all around, but there was a strap over my chest with a D-ring, and it wasn’t that hot.

She took the leash and clipped it onto the ring on the front of the collar, which was already feeling too heavy, and slipped the handle end around her wrist. She hummed and tugged here and there on everything, before asking if anything hurt or rubbed anywhere. I slowly shook my head.

“That’s good, I don’t need to order too many customs. If anything gets too small, starts to hurt, or rubs wrong then tell me ASAP, understood? Good. Now, let’s swap those muzzles, and get you a little treat, yeah, puppy? You want a treat?” She teased as she reached behind and undid the muzzle.

It slipped off, and I immediately yawned, trying to stretch my jaw. She slipped the handle to the leash into the spot where the lead used to be, then stepped over to grab a muzzle that was all wires, with a bit of padding here and there. I rubbed my jaw, watching as she adjusted the straps. She grabbed a small bag of chocolates that I didn’t see before, and walked back over. I perked up and stared at the chocolates while trying to make my throat less dry, and she laughed.

“Aw, you like chocolate? I thought that was bad for puppies? You must be a very odd puppy if you can eat these.” She taunted, shaking the bag. I tried to respond but just ended up coughing.

She set the bag down, and waited for me to stop coughing before listing my head and putting the muzzle on. It settled on my face, the padding being the only thing between my face and the metal. It was a lot looser than the one before, and I could still talk without gaining bruises. 

“Ca-an… Can I have some- some water?” I rasped, barely audible.

“Sorry, pup, but you have to wait. Only treats for now. You’ll get some when Hunter is ready to see you.” She responded, pulling open the bag of chocolates.

I frowned, and opened my mouth to say something else when she held a chocolate in the air and interrupted me.

“Open up, puppy! A treat just for you!” She jeered, waving the chocolate in front of me. I blushed in humiliation, but opened my mouth as she told me to, and she dropped it between the wires of the muzzle into my mouth. 

“Good boy! You’re such a pretty puppy, so well behaved. Very good boy” She praised, and I ducked my head down. She was treating me like I was just a dumb little puppy and it was humiliating but I haven’t eaten since the day before Hunter grabbed me from the warehouse, and I was too hungry to refuse. She gave me a few more, before putting them away and setting them back on the table. She reached under the table and tugged out a box, pulling out a bunch of weird gear I can’t identify.

“Alright, puppy, this is some of the training gear we’ll be trying out. We’ll be here for the next hour just about, so just work with me. We have three more boxes after this one, so let’s get this down as quickly as possible.” She explained, and I sighed and curled back into a ball. This is going to be an absolutely embarrassing hour, I just know it.

[im-smart-i-swear]

There is a very very very importrant piece of buddy lore that i dont think ive ever shared with ANYONE before but which is FUNDAMENTAL to who they are and how they see themself. Idk why ive never said this before lmao but its Importrant.

So. Ok. The biggest reason why bud feels so guilty about what happened all these years ago still is beacuse, in that moment, when he was trying to kill keith - it was the happiest he has ever felt, before or since. And it haunts them.

They were being mind controlled by haggar, and in my specific interpretation i think its fascinating to think of it not as her literally using him as a puppet, but rather putting him in an altered mind state of sorts? Manipulating his thoughts and emotions until hes willing to do her bidding. Idrk how to explain this lol, but basically i mean that she, through her weird witch shit, turned bud into a '''willing''' servant. Shed just tell him what to do and hed do it bc that's what he Should Be Doing, beacuse that Feels Right. Bc at the moment he genuinely believes hes doing the right thing

Throughout those months w the paladins bud was undeniably having a Bad Time (and also making it everyones problem, rip lance...). so when he finally breaks and haggar gets a hold on him... He doesnt have to think anymore. All he has to do is follow orders, and god, isn't that so much easier? Isnt this so much better? It feels right, to follow instructions blindly, even if he can hear his friends screaming at him throught the fog. That's not importrant anyway.

What im trying to say is- between the exhaustion, the weird mind control shit, the constant headaches and clone programming... Somehow, that total loss of control had the effect of feeling terrifyingly, intoxicantly good. And that's why they can not forgive themself for what they did, even after all these years

To be clear, this is exactly what haggar intended to happen. This was her goal. If your puppet doesnt think the things hes doing are wrong, he wont even try to fight you! But to buddy pinning all the blame on the witch feels too easy. Too tempting. Can they really say it was all her when they vividly remember the peace, the satisfaction they felt when they carried out her orders? Is this really something you can go back from?

Blaming themself is their way of taking back control, in a way. The idea of being completely stripped of their free will, being molded like clay until they fit someones mold - its such a terryfying thought to bud that theyd rather blame themself than admit that complete and utter vulnerability. They werent manipulated into being a puppet, no no no no, they did this all themself! Beacuse they felt like it! Haggar just told them what to do and they did it all bc they wanted to, they were in control the whole time!! Theyre just a sick bastard who did this and enjoyed it. Haha...

The constant crushing guilty they carry around wherever they go is, in their mind, the only way they can make up for this. They cant forgive themself, they cant move on, they will carry this burden until the day they die. Its what they deserve. They have to try and be a good person, and no matter if they succeed at this or not the guilt will always be there. They are a monster, they are unredeemable. It doesnt stop them from trying. But they are always aware of this looming presence that is their guilt.

This is also why they view themself as diffrent from the other clones. Stick isn't a bad person bc he helped haggar out of self-preservation and was also a child at the time. Soup isn't a bloodthirsty monster(and neither is shiro) bc she didnt have a choice. But to bud, they DID make that choice themselves. And that makes them a horrible person.

[saigebeaumontt]

( danielle rose russell, cisfemale, she/her ) I, FREYA KAVINSKY am a SCHOLARSHIP student and would hereby like to submit my application to Kingswood Boarding School. I am SEVENTEEN years old and will be a JUNIOR. I would describe myself as HEARTFELT and EAGER, but also UNINHIBITED and PIGHEADED which I plan to work on during my time here. This is my request to join the VICTORIA building as a house MEMBER and look forward to hearing back from you.

im trash ik but here’s a brand new baby to play w!! her pinterest can be found HERE pls ignore the photos of crystal reed, that’s freya’s original fc sdfghj

tw; death, drug/alcohol abuse? w/ implications of self destruction

so first thing’s first, freya was born n raised in chicago alongside her father and her older sister

her mother had died during freya’s birth--though freya doesn’t...blame herself, necessarily, there are days where she imagines what life would’ve been like if her mother was still alive

her dad’s a mechanic and the sole provider for their household, which meant that he was gone more often than not

regardless, he tried to be as active as possible in his children’s lives

her sister always took up the role of..well, mother, in a sense

freya and her are incredibly close b/c of this

even so--her father had wanted them to be as active as possible, as out of the house as he was--so it didn’t seem like he was gone as much as he was

so, with a few strings pulled and familial connections, freya was able to attend ballet lessons at a young age, alongside an instrument of her choosing, at a discounted price

she chose violin btw...very relevant

and like, to everybody’s surprise--she sort of excelled at both--it almost came naturally, though that didn’t mean she hadn’t put in a buncha effort regardless, y’know

practice makes perfect, yadda yadda

took up a few more instruments for fun, such as piano and like...i dunno, guitar of various forms (including bass guitar) though she likes violin the best

that led to her attending a p prestigious performing arts high school in her city--which wasn’t done by pulling strings

her father worked even more shifts, her sister got a job to help pitch in, they took out loans, yadda yadda. anything they could do so she could pursue this...dream

except...ballet and violin has never been freya’s dream--its just something she happens to be good at

everybody just...assumed, that since she was so talented, she had to want to pursue it

not the case at all, really. she loves it, really, but...her passion has always surrounded animals

specifically marine animals, which is odd considering freya had never seen the ocean before

really...marine anything, she loves. maybe it’s because its something she hasn’t experienced , but ykno

ANYWAYS

she felt sort of...stuck, b/c she never wanted to disappoint her dad or her sister or any of their family friends who were all rootin’ for her

this led to some...rebellion, of sorts, when she was a freshmen

nothing...BAD, per say, but y’know. baseball bats to mailboxes whilst hanging out of the window of a pick-up truck, vandalizing abandoned buildings and historical monuments, shoplifting from convenience stores.

okay so like...a little bad

that was just the crowd she found herself in, y’know, in her teenage angst

has definitely been arrested a few times, but has always managed to get off scotch free ??

it’s luck, im telling u. she only has like..three things on her record rn

ALSO learned how to ride a motorcycle and was in a punk band based in her school n did bass for it, ‘cos that’s what rebellious teenagers do n whatever

and this, well, y’know. did disappoint her father and her sister and all their family friends but at this point freya was like ?? i can’t stop

her boyfriend at the time was a major contributor to her troublemaking tbh

when he transferred to kingswood, freya’s lil 15 yr old heart was broken.

spent her entire sophomore yr working her ass off and getting her shit together so that kingswood would look at her, and pick her, too--

and like...it finally paid off, y’know? her junior year they’d graciously given her a scholarship based off of her music AND academics

so she was absolutely thrilled

granted, she was only able to start attending halfway thru her junior year, at the beginning of the second semester...but she was there, at least, right?

very ecstatic to find her boyfriend and surprise him

they’d been doing long distance, and he had no idea that she had gotten in

found out his dorm number, walked right up to his door--knocked, and he answered with his shirt off n a number of hickeys on his chest

it was a surprise for both of them lmao

obv. freya is not stupid, if not a lil blinded by love at the time. they broke up, she was heartbroken

sorta shut herself in for a few months ‘cos she was so sad abt it

so it’s kinda like she’s still new, tho it’s been a few months since january

but she’s BACK and she’s POPPIN’ and she acts like it still doesn’t bother her !

but like...it does. it rly does. she’s still mcfreakin’ hurt abt it, she’s just handling it in another way

aka, a lil bit of partying...a lil bit of drinking, casual drug use, hooking up, etc. etc. just bein that bitch, y’know?

ANYWAYS

has always had a lil bit of a tomboy aesthetic ?? despite being a freakin’ ballerina, it just not her aesthetic man

constantly wearin’ dark colors n reds and leather jackets n denim on denim n cuffin’ her pants n whatnot

even brought her motorcycle 2 school w/ her

EXCELS at science, wants to become a marine biologist or smth when she’s older

just...hasn’t told anybody that

DON’T B FOOLED BY HER APPEARANCE THO

she’s not some antisocial punk, okay, she’s not anna

very humble but not in a way where u have to be like ‘ugh u have talent u idiot’ , she just doesn’t like bragging about it ?

even tho her ex is an idiot she’s still glad to be there bc of how prestigious kingswood is

 kinda tries 2 befriend as many ppl as possible ?? she isn’t a people pleaser, though, n it’s sort of like...u get what u get, w/ her

she doesn’t act as if she’s got a whole separate life or nothin’, she balances both her rebellious nature and her talents n w/e

fun fact her mother was a leader of elizabeth but like...does she know? no. does it matter? only to ppl like lilah smh

ANYWAYS AGAIN

i’d consider her like....a gryffindor, to sum up her personality ??

very brave, fearless, can be stupidly reckless. gets herself into trouble even now

prolly is a lil bit of a hoe but we love that for her, okay ??

but also ?? will die for her pals ?? n is very true to herself ??

we call her accidentally messy

neutral good tbh ?? very wholesome person

will take care of u if ur sick, is v protective of those she loves

also doesn’t rly....believe in love rn, or is at least very over the concept.

girl next door ?? i dunno

sometimes...she does these bad things...’cos she thinks she deserves it, in a way?

like she’ll drink too much n get a real bad hangover or do a drug when she knows she’ll have a bad trip

so she’s got a lil bit of self loathing

however she knows it’s a problem

she’s just...not willing 2 do much abt it rn

living her best life lmao

ambivert, will go to parties but will also sit in w/ a book gladly

can b v v stubborn, is in debate b/c she loves...to argue, sometimes sksk

m8 i dunno she’s got layers..like an onion

wanted connections

her...ex would be nice, however it’s prolly better suited to send in as a WC unless there’s a dude from chicago out here whose made the mistake of cheatin’

HOWEVER, i would love pals !! friends of any sort !! she’s friendly !! like her !!

ride or die!

unlikely pals!

good influences!

bad influences!

she’s in a band w/ ezra im p sure

i ALSO would like hook ups!

accidental hookups!

casual hookups!

fwbs ?!?

Bad. hookups!

she’s probably accidentally hooked up w/ somebody’s partner so

enemies ! for w/e reason !

rivals!

frenemies!

fake friends !?

everything!

gimme everything !!

[caelystrae]

And It’s Hard to Love

im dying bc i scrapped my original fic i wrote today bc i didnt like it... wrote a whole new one... and still dont know if i like it... but the day is over so i gotta post what i have LMAO

anyway.  @letanafuck week day 3.  love/hate.  mostly love, from me

ao3

Pairing: Anamercy

Rating: M

Words: 3.5k

Maybe that is why Ana is afraid, when Angela says I love you, because once, she might have been falling in love with Angela, might even have begun to consider what that would mean for the both of them to talk about their relationship openly, despite the consequences, to refuse propositions not because there was someone else already meeting her needs adequately, and breaking in new lovers could be a hassle, but because she only wanted one person—and despite beginning to feel that way, things between them still soured, were victim to the outside stresses of Overwatch’s collapse, until rather than feeling comfortable, Ana felt trapped. It scares her, to think that she could have loved Angela, then, and still run, and terrifies her to think that it might happen again.

Or,

Angela accidentally says "I love you" during sex, and Ana is not at all prepared to deal with that.

In her life, Ana has known war, but she has rarely experienced peace, she has known freedom, but rarely seen justice, and she has known hate, but she does not know, not for certain, if she has ever felt love.  Of course, she loves her daughter, loves her friends, loves her duty, her country, her people—but that is not the same as feeling romantic love, not at all, and Ana is content with that, with what she has had, does not think that she needs to ever be in love with someone to be happy with the life she has led, the things she has accomplished.  Out of all of her regrets, never having been in love is not worth even mentioning.

Most of Ana’s relationships have been purely physical, because she alternately lacks the time, the desire, or the stability to search for love.  While she acknowledges that there have been a few exceptions, they have been relationships built on friendship, or admiration, not love.  Sam was such a one, and for a time she believed Angela was another—and now, she must face that that is not necessarily the case.

Coming back from the dead changed many things, but it was only the catalyst for a change that was a long time coming before her death, that continues even now that she is four months returned.

Perhaps it would be an overstatement to say that, in the years before her death, she and Angela admired each other; it was admiration that brought them to one another, yes, recognition of some kindred spirit, a mutual drive, a need to protect and a willingness to do so by whatever means they deemed necessary, but that did not last.  Towards the end of their time together, towards the end of Overwatch, towards the end of Ana, or the Ana who was never the Shrike, they fought more often than not, found that agreeing to do whatever was necessary only went so far, when the two of them disagreed on what, in fact, was a necessity, and Ana struggles when thinking of the things that they said to one another, that they must have thought about one another, to say that she felt admiration, or that Angela could have felt the same.

She never hated Angela, this much Ana knows, but sometimes, sometimes she was afraid that she might grow to.  

When they fought, they never held anything back—perhaps because of the admiration they felt for one another, in the early days, because they knew the other could take hearing what it was they were to say, or perhaps because their arguments were complicated by other feelings, ones they chose not to give voice to—and Ana winces, now, remembering the things the two of them said to one another.  It was a stressful time, Overwatch’s fall, for the both of them, made harder still that they both felt increasingly isolated and embattled in their respective positions, between the development of the Biotic Rifle and Jack and Gabe’s decision to slowly freeze Ana out of the chain of command, but that stress could not excuse the things they both allowed themselves to say, and it is not an easy time for Ana to remember.

(Ana feels similarly about the breakdown in her relationship with her daughter, but that was easy to make sense of, after the fact, and she knows, now, where the two of them stand, even if it is not always easy between them.  They had blood and a lifetime of love between them; the same cannot be said for how she feels about Angela.)

To say, therefore, that Angela’s response to her return was unexpected, then, would be an understatement.

What Ana expected, upon her return, was anger, was betrayal, was a condemnation.  Instead, she received none of those things—or, she did, eventually, in conversations about the rifle, about her leaving, but never were they such simple feelings from Angela, and never were the conversations themselves as fraught as the ones from seven years before.  It is impossible to judge for Ana, what it is that Angela is feeling, when she voices her betrayal at Ana for having had the audacity to die on her, only to come back as if nothing had happened, because Ana knows that Angela ought to be furious with her, would have said things meant to hurt, if this happened years ago, and instead she is also unmistakably relieved by Ana’s returning, and that relief tempers her anger.

This, in turn, ought to make Ana happy, she ought to be relieved at this turn of events, by the fact that, somehow, they have both of them changed, and grown, and returned to one another more able, or perhaps more willing, to disagree, and to set those disagreements aside, in order to be happy together, or as close to it as they can come.  What Ana feels, instead of relief, is worry. Nothing in her life has ever been so simple, and the lack of a clean resolution to their prior conflicts, the lack of confirmation that that is behind them, the unaddressed feelings and hurts, they haunt her.

Angela says she loves her.  

What to make of that?  It is the opposite reaction from what Ana expected, upon returning, and Ana is not sure that she would be able to believe it, even were that not the case.  How could Angela love her?  After she left, died, Angela’s greatest fear, after she betrayed her lover, taking the Biotic Rifle with her, despite knowing that it represented the greatest perversion of Angela’s life’s work, after what she said to Angela, how could Angela love her?

How could Angela love her, when she struggles to love herself?  Knowing what she has done in the name of duty—what of that she regrets, what of that was not truly necessary, and having seen the nastier parts of herself, knowing whom she truly is: a killer, and not a protector.  There is little enough of her left to love, anyway, after what happened, after her death and the Shrike.  How could anyone love her?

How could Angela love her, when seven years ago they could hardly speak to one another, were too often too angry to be civil, and were avoiding each other more often than not, lest they begin another argument, unable for the first time to set professional differences apart for the sake of their relationship—whatever one might have defined it as?  

(Perhaps, if she asked Angela, Angela might tell her that she felt love, even then, and that is why the perceived betrayal of the development of the Biotic Rifle hurt her so much.  Perhaps she might try to convince Ana that Ana, too, loved her, and that was why Ana was willing to argue about it at all, rather than simply dismissing her disagreement, wanting instead for Angela to come to approve or, at the least, not be angry with her any longer for what she had chosen to do. Perhaps she might claim that Ana’s death put the issue into perspective for her, and she realized that she had feelings all along.  Perhaps—it does not matter.)

Ana worries about what it would mean to love Angela, given that there is still so much between them unsaid, unresolved. One of the reasons why the idea of being in love has never appealed to Ana is that its seems terribly complicated, and her life is difficult enough already without such added concerns, and their situation has more unique challenges than most.

Yet, despite all of this, there are times when loving Angela seems like it could be so very easy to do.  

When she wakes in the morning to find Angela curled around her, and her lover kisses her temple in lieu of a greeting before slipping out of bed to prepare for the day, she wonders what it might be like to wake to this every morning, thinks it might be worth suffering Angela kicking the blankets off of both of them in her sleep.  Perhaps that is not love, but it is a desire for permanence, one she could not imagine herself feeling seven years ago when all she wanted was to run.

When Angela glances around the common room nervously to ensure they are alone before shifting closer to Ana on the couch, and wrapping their hands around one another, Ana considers for the first time whether or not it would be so terrible to allow others to see them like this, despite the uncomfortable questions it might invite about the nature of their relationship before Overwatch fell.  This, too, might not be love, but it is a growing comfort with casual intimacy that Ana might once have avoided, for fear of what it might mean.

When they find themselves where they are now, Angela straddling her thighs in a position that allows them both to, with a bit of awkward bumping into one another at first, reach down and touch each other simultaneously, all the while maintaining eye contact and kissing one another as they please, Ana wonders what lead them to this point.

Their relationship was never meant to last, was not—is not—a relationship, was meant to be a casual mutual pursuit of much needed stress relief, an exchange of power and of favors.  When one of them had a particularly rough day, they could meet one another by cover of darkness and—deal with the problem, in their own way, Angela allowing Ana to once again feel in control of her life and its circumstances, and Ana freeing Angela from that same burden; that is not the basis for love, or was never meant to be.  Over time, things shifted, grew more complicated, until even meeting with Angela felt stressful, and all Ana wanted was to get away from everyone, herself included, to be free of all of her obligations, even caring for her lover, and yet, here she is, one of Angela’s lips pressed to hers, and two of her fingers inside her erstwhile lover.  

(Maybe that is why Ana is afraid, when Angela says I love you, because once, she might have been falling in love with Angela, might even have begun to consider what that would mean for the both of them, to talk about their relationship openly, despite the consequences, to refuse propositions not because there was someone else already meeting her needs adequately, and breaking in new lovers could be a hassle, but because she only wanted one person—and despite beginning to feel that way, things between them still soured, were victim to the outside stresses of Overwatch’s collapse, until rather than feeling comfortable, Ana felt trapped.  It scares her, to think that she could have loved Angela, then, and still ran, and terrifies her to think that it might happen again.)

But this is not complicated, not really, not if she focuses on the details, the way that, when she presses her thumb down on Angela’s clit, Angela gasps against her mouth, and rolls her hips into the touch, or the scent of Angela’s shampoo—not sweet, or heady, just clean, a product selected for its ability to make the curls in her hair loosen to waves, and not for its scent—which surrounds her, as Angela’s bangs fall across both of their faces, hiding the world from Ana’s view as they cover her one good eye, or the way Angela is so in tune with what she needs, what she wants, all the ways in which Ana likes to be touched.

It feels good, to be like this, inside each other, surrounding each other, all wrapped up together.  How could this be a bad thing?  

(How could the gentle pressure of Angela’s free arm draped across her shoulder feel like it is trapping her?  Could this change, again, back from what they have now to the pain and difficulty of seven years previous?)

She is pulled from her thoughts when Angela moves her mouth next to Ana’s ear, panting into it as she whispers encouragements, praise, pleas, anything and everything that comes to her mind and which might convince Ana to let her come faster.  

Some of the things she says are gentle, Perfect, and So beautiful, and You’re so good to me, others are demanding, Harder, and Stay there, and More, please, more, and others are nonsense, little pleased noises of all sorts, and all of them are sufficient to drive any trepidation from Ana’s mind.

(This could not be the same voice that accused Ana of using her, of having slept with her only to ensure that she would stay with Overwatch long enough to let her guard down, and allow her technology to be exploited.)

Years ago, sex between them might have been carefully scripted, an exchange of power and little more, in which both of them kept carefully to their roles, so as not to disturb the delicate balance of their arrangement, to rip the thin veil of pretense that allowed them to carry on pretending that what they had was nothing more than the two of them fucking a few times a month—but now Angela gives as good as she gets, pulls back slightly from Ana’s fingers, shuddering, when she notices herself approaching climax just a tad too quickly, and focuses more on Ana’s pleasure for a minute or two, until she feels they are both equally aroused.  

Even though Ana knows she does not particularly like to do it—and therefore never demands it of her lover—Angela slides a finger inside Ana, and then another shortly thereafter, only because she knows it will help Ana to come faster, and make the inevitable orgasm more pleasurable when it does come.

(Once, Ana called her the most selfish person she had ever had the misfortune to encounter in her fifty-three years of living, because Angela placed her own morals over Ana’s, refused to allow her technology to be weaponized despite how useful it would be, in the right hands, how many lives would potentially be saved by killing the right people with it, because she would not take those losses on her conscience—Ana regrets saying that, now, regretted it immediately, in truth, and she wonders how the woman who is so generous a lover to her could ever have seemed so callous, where they went wrong that such a statement could even for a moment have felt true.)

When Ana moves her free hand to cup one of Angela’s breast, she can feel the hammering of her heart, and notes that it matches her own, and when she pants, Angela gasps in time, as if they were connected in more ways than the sweat sticking their skin together, or by the feeling of being inside one another.

Both of them are close now, Ana knows, can feel her own orgasm approaching as she struggles to keep her movements against Angela’s fingers steady, and knows that Angela will come soon from the quaking of her thighs on top of Ana’s own, and the way her speech has fallen to the wayside, replaced only by little noises and the occasional plea, Yes, Ana, please panted out one word at a time.

(It is hard to believe, now, how distant she felt they were from one another, back then, is harder still to recall a time when, before the arguing, they were ever so close as they are in this moment.  At least Angela’s begging is familiar, but even it has changed in tone, from desperation to some other emotion Ana cannot immediately name.)

It is Angela who comes first, in the end, set off by nothing in particular that Ana can identify, but her lover does not stop, throughout it all, moving against her, and so when she catches the I love you that tumbles from Angela’s mouth amongst so many other phrases, it coincides with the beginning of her own orgasm—and, to her surprise, does not negatively affect her enjoyment of the moment.

When she is finished, she allows herself to fall onto her back on the bed, but Angela does not follow suit, as she often does, stays sitting up, biting her lip nervously and looking down at Ana below.

Ana raises an eyebrow at her, before remembering that the effect is likely rather different now that she only has one good eye, and one full eyebrow—but Angela seems to understand.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Angela tells her, as if Ana had not heard her whisper the same over their call a few weeks prior, as if she had not murmured it in her native tongue before, as if Ana did not know how she felt.

“Did you not mean it?” Ana asks her, and Angela only looks more uncomfortable at the question.

“No,” says she, “Or, yes, or—or no, I did mean it?”  A pause. “I meant it, I just—didn’t mean to say it like that, or just now, or when we were—”

“Angela,” Ana cuts her off, propping herself up on her elbows, “Calm down.  It’s fine.”

“Is it?” Angela asks her, and Ana hesitates, then.

Hesitation is a fatal mistake; she learned that when she faced Widowmaker for the first time.  In the moment Ana takes to consider the question, Angela crumbles before her.

“I’m sorry,” says she, “I can go.”

“Don’t,” Ana tells her, and Angela, already halfway off of the bed, freezes, “I’m not angry—I just need time to think about this.”

(A lie, Ana has had plenty of time, has thought about this often in the months since her return, about what she would say when this moment comes—and still, she has not decided.  Time is not what she needs, but she could not say what it is that might be of more help to her.)

Angela does not say anything, but she does not move further away, either, stays awkwardly half on and half off of the bed.

“Sit down,” she says, and Angela does, but only at the very edge of the bed, carefully avoiding touching Ana, “You don’t have to go anywhere.”

“If you’re sure,” Angela is still cautious, still guarded.

“I am,” Ana says, and considers, for a moment, lying and saying that everything is fine, that she was just surprised, and telling Angela to come lie with her—but she knows it would do them no good.  Instead, she forces herself to be honest, “I’m not, however, sure about my feelings.  I don’t know,” she pauses again, thinks about how to phrase this, settles on, “I don’t know when I’ll be able to say the same, but you feeling that way isn’t a bad thing, Angela.”

(Very carefully, she avoids saying the word love entirely, not wanting to give any false hope.)

“You’re certain?” Angela asks her, “It doesn’t make you uncomfortable

“It didn’t in the moment,” Ana decides to be honest as possible, “Which was, of course, satisfying as ever,” she winks as she says that, as best as she can, and hopes that a bit of levity will ease the tension.

It does, because Angela gives a little laugh, half nervous but half amused, and relaxes her posture somewhat, saying, “Yes, well, I obviously enjoyed myself a little too much.”

“Hmm,” Ana gestures her over, “Better than not enough. Now come lie down, we’re too old to be so active after sex.”  That is mostly said in jest, given the lifestyle they lead, but Ana is tired, if not from physical exertion.

“Alright,” Angela acquiesces, and she is perhaps more hesitant than usual when curling herself around Ana, but she does so—and Ana remembers, suddenly, that neither of them had time to wipe their hands off before this conversation began, and she fights the urge to remark upon it when Angela’s decidedly sticky fingers come to rest on her hip.  A bit of discomfort is worth it, to be able to fall asleep in her lover’s arms, to know that despite all her shortcomings, and all that has happened in her life, she is cared for—even loved.

She fears, still, what it would mean to love Angela, fears that they might grow to hate one another, or that she might not be able to cope with being tied down, that their love would die, and she would be worse off for having allowed herself to be vulnerable, in the name of something that could not last.

(Hesitation is a fatal mistake; she learned that when Widowmaker shot her—but she lived nonetheless, and learned, then, that some things are too stubborn to kill.)

But it is all a worry for another day; for now, she is at peace.

[jaeyooniverse]

Hi! I'm doing alright ☺️ hope your day is going well!

Yeah being the oldest child is stressful sometimes - honestly though I'm glad to be the oldest, I want to be able to set an example of how to be a kind person and also to protect my siblings and look after them when they need it. I don't think I'd switch places even if I could (though I used to wish I had an older sibling to teach me how to do things that I couldn't go to my parents for!)

One of my siblings was actually the one who got me and another sibling into kpop 😂 that first sibling has mostly stuck with Seventeen and Monsta X while the other one and I have branched out quite a bit. Our tastes mostly overlap with a few differences, which is nice - I'm trying to get one or both of them into SF9 but I think it's only going to end up working for the one willing to get into more groups, if it works at all 😔

I got into them after Summer Breeze! They were recommended to me by a friend, though I actually sort of knew about them before because of O Sole Mio which has been one of my favorite songs for ages - I remember looking into them a bit back when Good Guy came out, seeing that MV and the one for Enough, going "meh I don't like their concept, guess O Sole Mio was a one-off" and dismissing them, then hearing RPM (and I think Easy Love as well) and going "huh I like that song" but not putting together that they were the same group... past me why were you so thick-headed............. anyway I watched the Summer Breeze MV and spent the next three days going "WAIT that song was by SF9 too? And that one? And THAT one? Wtf I love all these songs why did I not realize they were all by the same group????" lmao

RPM is I think one of the best albums I've heard! It's why I decided to get that one first - that one and Knights of the Sun are my top two at the moment, though there are still a couple of albums I haven't gotten around to listening all the way through so it might change? They're both so good though, I feel like it would take a lot to dethrone them 🤔

Idk if I've mentioned but I'm Youngbin biased! Pretty much all of them bias wreck me on the regular but I always come back to him, he's just so 🥺 idk I love him very much... I assume your bias is Jaeyoon, but who are your bias wreckers, if you have them?

You skip My Story My Song? Are you one of those people who thinks ballads are boring? (no judgement if you are... well ok maybe a little judgement bc ballads are awesome, but I won't be upset 😂 everyone has their own music taste after all)

from your fantasy friend 💕

how did your day go? what were you up to today?

can you be my older sibling, too?? 😂 i do love caring for my siblings and doting on them but i actually hate the idea of people having to look to me as an example sfdhfhf like i'll notice some of my little brother's mannerisms and im like oh god he learned that from me didn't he 😭💀💀💀

okay but does that first sibling just stan svt & mx but listen to other groups sometimes, or do they purely only listen to svt & mx?? either way they should totally get into sf9 😁😁😁 i hope you're able to make your siblings fantasies!! 🤭🤭

lol thats so funny that was kinda me with svt and tbz?? for svt i heard very nice and loved it but didn't really listen to any of their other stuff til later and I was like oh hey these are those very nice guys! 😂

RPM SUPREMACY 🗣🗣 but yes knights is good too ^^ I haven't listened to it as a whole in a while tbh i should do that soon 😚 which albums have you listened to?

aaaahh binnie!!!! i love him so much hes actually one of my other biases! idk something abt him is just so heartwarming..his smile, his laugh, AH my heart melts just thinking abt him 😭 technically he was one of my first biases but it was before i knew all the members or was interested in stanning so i don't really count it? idk 😂 what matters is hes my bias now <3

but yes jaeyoon is my main bias!! love him to pieces oh he just makes me so happy!!! 🥰 followed very closely by dawon! the two of them are my ults in the group ^^ ♡

and then there's also chani~ idk every time i see him i just ❤!! yknow? 😂😅

and then pretty much everyone takes turns bias wrecking me 😂 most often it's rowoon or inseong,, so yeah i totally get it's hard to have a bias in sf9 😂😂

nooo i LOVE a lot of ballads in fact I think MSMS is my fave of sf9's! it's just that the rest of the album is so HYPE and then you get to end and it's like.. idk i just really wish i could get a album thats 100% energetic songs and no ballad/slow song 💀💀 RPM is perfect tho bc like i said before i just feel like the songs go together 😚😚