#like I’m still critical of my mistakes but somehow the vision is just SO MUCH more there
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byakuyasdarling · 2 years ago
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Why does it feel like I draw other’s characters better sometimes LMAO
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love-takes-work · 6 years ago
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When someone toxic needs a friend
I just wanna add a little personal reflection to the discussion of Spinel’s treatment in Steven Universe: The Movie.
A few signposts so you know where I’m starting with this:
A criticism I’ve seen: 
Steven was not particularly warm to Spinel. He did not hug her. He did not offer to be her friend. He spoke carelessly and triggered her toward becoming murderous again. He only cared about what she could do for him.
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A perspective I’ve seen: 
LOTS of people with borderline personality disorder or strong feelings about abandonment personally relate to Spinel and are critical of Steven from this perspective.
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Rebecca Sugar’s commentary on Spinel:
The thing about Spinel is that she’s a really toxic person. 
She’s so toxic that she’s literally trying to poison people. 
In my interactions with friends who have had a history difficult enough to make it hard for them to trust other people and sometimes even actively want to hurt others, it’s just a very difficult situation to navigate. In the case of Spinel and all of these characters, that’s extremely exaggerated because cartoons have the ability to be extreme exaggerations. I wanted to explore what it’s like when you’re trying to help someone who really doesn’t want to help themselves, who wants to embody the negative feelings that they have about themselves. I think that’s something really real. I hadn’t seen that in a cartoon before. 
Spinel, unlike many other characters, actually has the goal of hurting people, which is new territory for the show. She really wants to hurt Steven, and there’s a reason that she does—because she’s in so much pain. I just wanted to explore all the dimensions of that.
I also think Steven has his way of trying to handle and dissolve conflict. It’s not necessarily a good way for him to handle this situation. It really leaves him in a difficult state, and I think what I wanted to show in the way that they interact is that at a certain point, when you can’t help someone, you have to be able to protect yourself. 
Ultimately, he can’t really convince her to change. It’s something she’ll have to want for herself. But what he can do is protect himself from her, making it impossible for her to hurt him. 
It’s sort of up to you if you would like to love her. If you watch this movie and she, you know, frustrates you, that is totally fair. I want that to be a big part of who she is.
[From the AV Club interview]
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So here are a few things I want to shed light on.
It’s very interesting that Rebecca intended Spinel to be read as “a toxic person” because so many fans fell in love with her, said they’d be her friend, hated intensely on Pink Diamond because of what she did to abandon the poor Gem, and sympathized with her directly. But Rebecca was looking at Spinel from Steven’s perspective. And that’s also what I did.
I’ve been Steven. I have VERY much been Steven.
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When you meet someone who was done dirty, when you recognize the horror they’ve been through, when you see how much pain they are in and agree they have the right to be angry, it’s natural for empathetic people to offer themselves as comfort.
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But when you’re Steven, you also know it isn’t YOUR fault either. Before you have the ability and experience to set boundaries, you can get sucked into other people’s stormy waters and think you’re helping if you drown in solidarity with them. What’s really important to preserving yourself is learning that you can stand on the boat and toss a life preserver. That it doesn’t ACTUALLY HELP to jump in the water and sink with them.
Some folks are angry that Steven didn’t jump right into sacrifice himself on the altar of friendship in the service of an intense, literally murderous stranger who tried to poison him and his planet and lash out at his friends, robbing them of their rich pasts and their relationships because all of it hurt HER so much. It is SO easy to understand WHY SPINEL WAS ANGRY. But nothing she was doing to Steven, his friends, or the Earth was going to fix her problems, and furthermore, she FULLY UNDERSTOOD that it was NOT THE FAULT of any of the people she took her anger out on. It was irrational, yes, and that is part of her dysfunction. But also, in these situations, what helps explain it still does not excuse it.
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Some have railed at Steven saying he somehow forgave genocidal tyrants like the Diamonds but couldn’t be friends with a damaged Gem like Spinel who just wanted friendship. The big difference there is that Steven got involved with the Diamonds when both parties believed he was a different person. The Diamonds believed he was the lost Pink Diamond, and Steven has also spent much of his superhero life believing he WAS his mother and was therefore obligated to accept punishment for her crimes or to clean up the messes she made. Now that he knows he is not her and that she did some pretty horrible stuff, he also wants the right to stop feeling responsible for every person Pink hurt in the entire region of space.
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Steven gave Spinel basically compassionate treatment. He did not abuse her. He did not insult her. He occasionally coddled her when it seemed important (and though some said he was too businesslike while he pursued his mission, he was literally looking at the world ending within two days if he didn’t solve the problem). And most importantly . . . .
He let her leave the garden.
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Spinel stayed in the garden all those millennia because Pink Diamond told her they were playing a game. All that time, she had visions of Pink returning so she could see her smile, hear her laughter. We see a sequence where she tried to follow Pink out of the garden and Pink manipulated her into staying willingly. We watch those feet leaving and one pair of feet staying behind. We see Pink disappear.
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When Steven goes to leave the garden, Spinel follows in the same manner. Some have criticized him for letting go of her hands.
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But he invited her out of the garden. He didn’t say stay. He said come with me.
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As he sang about her deserving someone better, he was sincere. But he did not say the person to make her feel found should be him. He did not want to take on another person with thousands of years of baggage who would require a specific brand of attention and so much tenderness to avoid snapping. He did not allow her to be held by the hand and led out. He recognized that she needed encouragement to leave this place because of what was done to her, but he wanted her to take the steps.
Compassionate people are crushed all the time under the weight of needy people who make it hurt to love. People like Steven can acknowledge that Spinel deserves love and deserves to be happy without accepting that it’s heartless to stop short of personally doing it. Especially when you literally have to take physical, mental, and emotional damage as a general consequence of offering support and counseling. It is sometimes just beyond what you can do.
I made the mistake several times of getting very close to someone who treated me poorly while taking comfort in my presence. I cared that they were hurt and I didn’t know how to say “You deserve love” without stepping in and loving them. In EVERY case I was involved with, the person went from initially grateful to “why don’t you help me more?” shockingly quickly, and two of them deliberately tried to create situations where I would be trapped with them and isolated from others. 
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I could get very personal here but I don’t think I need to. Those of us who relate all too well to Steven wanting to help others will have been in this situation. Your heart hurts for people who live with pain that has never touched you, but when they’ve made it clear with one of their first actions that they feel satisfied at the idea of ruining your life, trusting them could mean the end of you. Especially if they demand that you risk life and limb to fix and save them before you’d dare to call it love, and especially if they want to be fixed without feeling responsible for initiating any of it. Some people mistake suffering for working hard toward a goal. Both can hurt but only one is constructive. If I’m expected to spend extensive resources on someone, I need some partnership in the goal, and I can’t accomplish that with someone whose wish for companionship manifests as “I want you to feel as bad as I do, and will take steps to hurt you so I have someone to cry with.”
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Steven risked his actual life while he didn’t have powers so he could go talk to Spinel, and he wouldn’t fight her when she wanted to fight. He protected himself while she spent her anger. He STILL put himself in the line of fire far more than a less compassionate person would. He took time and tenderness to listen to her story and sympathize with her, tell her she deserved better, bear witness to what she’d become after being treated like a discarded plaything, and bring her hope with promises of a new future and a way to feel found.
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Sadly, Spinel flipped back to being murderous at the first sign that Steven might be about to prioritize someone other than her, reframing his reasonable needs as if he was planning to abandon her, isolate her, discard her. This was a trauma reaction, yes, and she isn’t entirely to blame for being upset because she was worried she was just being used and none of her actions were logically thought through. 
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But does someone ever “deserve” the friendship of a specific person who can’t feel warm toward them because of their OWN bad experiences? 
No! 
Steven has a big heart but he has his very own huge storehouse of trauma, and being physically attacked with his family and planet put in danger over the actions of his mother is at the top of the list. Instead of assuming that the person who has trauma the loudest is the most hurt, can’t we just acknowledge that Spinel’s and Steven’s respective traumas make them NOT the best match for friendship?
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The ending of the movie, with Spinel going off with the Diamonds, might seem a little disturbing with all the codepencency floating around there, but if you want to talk about compassion, I think this is a good place for Spinel to start. 
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She just wanted to make Pink Diamond laugh and enjoy her life. She longed to do that for so long and then it all ended when she found out she would NEVER GET TO DO IT. I think bonding with the other Diamonds and having a familiar, safe place to experience the kind of love she’s used to will be a good FOUNDATION for building herself into a person beyond that. For now, she needs comfort. I hope they treat her well.
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whatifxwereyou · 4 years ago
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The Oncoming Storm Part 23: Flesh and Bone
Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)
You find the springs- and it exceeds your expectations but perhaps not in the way you had hoped it would. Something wicked is unfolding.
A/N: I'm going out of town tomorrow but I will do my best to get back to replies as often as I can! Your feedback gives me life <3 I'll be back on Tuesday. You guys probably won't even notice I'm gone, since I've somehow managed to miraculously write enough to cover the space where I won't be around! I'm going to see my family for the first time since the pandemic ;___; !!
Part 22 Part 24 Chapter Index
You drew closer to the wave of clouds above you, and it wasn’t long until you were engulfed by them. It was like the most intense fog you’d ever been in. You had scoured the cliffside for caves along the way but found nothing of note. You stopped walking once you were completely surrounded by the clouds and had long since let go of Liu Kang’s hand.
There was that feeling again. As though you had been lost in this fog before and yet you had never been there. It made you dizzy and you lost sight of Liu in the fog. You could see that man from your vision, walking in front of you, then to the left of you, then to the right. Your head spun and when you closed your eyes, you felt lost. But you weren’t. You knew this place even if you’d never been there. The vision in your head knew it.
You turned and the clouds felt misty on your skin. It was as if you had lost your body and were watching yourself walk through the fog blindly in search of something you weren’t sure that you wanted to find. Then suddenly, very suddenly, as if you were being pulled out of a dream, Liu Kang stood in front of you. Your body was yours again. His right hand was bathed in fire and the shadows it cast on his face were haunting and beautiful.
“Wake up, Y/N.”
He urged his hand to your arm and forced you to look at him. You gasped, your lungs having once again forbidden you air. You closed your eyes tight to shake off the feeling and then searched around you. It was too foggy to tell how far you’d gone but you had the distinct feeling that it hadn’t been very far at all. Liu’s relief was palpable and with a wave of his hand the fire was gone, leaving you in the cold mist of the clouds.
His grip was tight on your arm, as if he were worried that you would walk off again. You caught your breath, chest aching with the lack of it, and knit your brow. “How… how did you know?”
“I just knew.” The concern on his face was valid but the admiration was unexpected. “You’re like flickering lamplight, Y/N. The shadows cast by my flame. I know when you’re not there.” Your tongue was suddenly far too big for your mouth and your heart hurt. You should have kissed him. That was the most romantic thing you had ever heard in your whole damn life. But your chest was aching and your hands were trembling with the fear of losing control of your body. “Do you think that you could lead us using your vision? If it’s taking control of you like that then it clearly wants us to go somewhere.”
“I’m… I can try but I’m afraid.” You were still struggling with air and words. “I don’t know if it’s a good thing it’s leading us. I walked off on Kung Lao and nearly drowned myself yesterday when my vision took over.”
“It’s okay, Y/N. I won’t let go of your hand.” He let his hand move from your arm and down to your fingertips. He leaned closer and whispered. “Trust yourself as much as you trust me.” He stepped back, still holding your hand. You had to try. He was right. If you trusted your gut and it went horribly wrong then Liu would make sure you didn’t jump off a cliff. He was staring back at you, completely relaxed. He trusted you. You could feel it. How could you have ever doubted that? You weren’t sure where to begin but you started with turning off your inner critic. You were unsteady on your feet, unsure of yourself.
“Are you okay?” You couldn’t help but ask. He took both of your hands and walked backwards in front of you which you felt like was a mistake.
“Keep going, Y/N. I trust you. Close your eyes and follow your vision. I will make sure that we’re safe.”
“I…”
“Trust yourself, Y/N.”
You didn’t, that was clear to you both. With a deep exhale, you closed your eyes and then walked. When you walked, Liu walked. You led him blindly along the path through the clouds. The more you walked without plummeting to your deaths, the more confident you felt. And you were in control, which was nice. You walked until he stopped suddenly in front of you, as if he’d run into something. You stumbled into him, letting go of one of his hands to catch the stone behind him, body pressed against his. Eyes fluttering open, Liu let go of your other hand and instead rested both against the sides of your neck. Despite their warmth, they gave you chills.
His thumb brushed over the bruised skin on your neck, other hand gently caressing its way up to your cheek, thumb just beneath your eye. His hands were callused and strong, still somehow soft, controlled just like the rest of him. He had this way of drinking you in, of making you feel like you were something precious and special. You got goosebumps. The pitter-patter of your heart was betraying you, pressed against him like this and it was warranted for more reasons than you could count. The most important of those reasons was Liu Kang.
“You did it,” he whispered but his eyes were on your lips.
“I found it.” You smiled in realization and got the chills. That was a wonderful feeling. It was the first time in ages where you’d trusted your gut and it hadn’t wound up in a complete mess. Without thinking you buried yourself against Liu’s chest, hands gripping at his shirt. You closed your eyes tight and took deep calming breaths.
Don’t get upset.
Don’t cry in front of Liu Kang even if they were happy tears. It had been so long since you’d felt that good.
“What? What is it?” He could sense that you were trying not to get upset and he tucked your hair behind your ear, fixing the flower that had come loose.
“Nothing. I’m just happy.”
“Okay…?”
You lifted yourself from his chest and straightened your posture, but you were hopelessly pressed against him. “So much of these last few weeks with healing and my arcana and the visions… it’s felt like such failure. I’m trying so damn hard and still it seems impossible. One thing after another keeps going wrong and I’m just so grateful to have something work out.”
“Y/N, just because it doesn’t work out how you expect it to, doesn’t mean it’s a failure. You’re learning. Please… be kind to yourself. The shadow hanging over you isn’t any fault of yours. From where I’m standing? You’re doing well.”
God, he was the cutest. So damn sweet. “Thank you, Liu. Thank you for grounding me too. I needed it.”
“Don’t credit me with that. You grounded yourself, Y/N. I just reminded you how to breathe.” He gently took one of your hands from where it was balled up in his shirt and held it in his.
“It’s funny. Sometimes I feel like my brain is such swirling chaos that I’m going to float away, like a leaf on the wind. You have this way of bringing me back and keeping me firmly rooted to the branch.”
“I’m happy to make sure that you don’t float too far for too long if you need me to.” Liu let go of your hand and turned his gaze to his left. His smile faded.
“What? What is it?” You touched his face this time, fingers gently brushing over his cheekbones that curved so perfectly when he smiled. You’d never done that before. He was so handsome that it felt forbidden to touch him.
“Now is not the time. Later. I promise. We have things to do.”
“Yeah. The cave.” You nodded to your right. You hadn’t seen the cavern yet but you knew it was there. He offered a nod to agree.
“Raiden theorizes that these places are protected and changed by the magic that the man from your vision used. He considered that the artifacts could be toxic. The dotaku you found was probably tainted with evil intent in some way.”
“Great, because I had that thing pressed all up against me for way too long.” You frowned. “The monks there said something about it being cursed, too.”
“You seem fine other than the bruises. And the anxiety but I don’t know if that’s related.”
“Tangentially so.” You smiled but then frowned. Kung Lao had been pale that morning. You hoped that he was taking care of himself. “Let’s get this over with.” You stepped away from him, realizing you had essentially pinned him to the wall. He reached into his pockets and pulled out two keychain sized flashlights. He offered one to you and you took it with a smile. “I’m glad one of us was prepared to go into a cave.”
“It was a last-minute purchase.” He admitted with a shrug. The cavern opening, now that you saw it, was not inviting. You never would have found it without your vision. It was less like a cave mouth and more like a fissure. You’d have to stand sideways and scoot inside which was incredibly unappealing. You had to do it though, you reminded yourself.
So, against every instinct in your body, you pressed yourself between the stone walls and scooted. It was uncomfortably tight and you’d had to adjust several times to make it through. If you’d told yourself months ago that you would be doing this then you would have never believed yourself. Liu was right behind you and you helped each other through difficult spaces. Finally, the fissure opened up and you gasped at what lay beyond the tight opening. The air was so humid it was difficult to breathe and there were pools of water glimmering with bioluminescent light. Usually, you would have thought it was beautiful but there was something inherently sinister about it.
The air was foreboding. Liu joined you at your side as you studied the cave that went back into the darkness far beyond your tiny flashlights.
“It’s like the exact opposite of the springs back in the temple.”
“Something dark has corrupted it.” He frowned then walked right into the water like it was nothing. At its deepest point it was up to his thighs.
“You just jump right into that probably cursed water, huh?”
“Yes, and you should join me. I have a feeling that it’s going to be quite a walk and the only way through is in the water.”
“You’re probably right. Is this the opposite of holy water, you think?” You joined him and he offered a shake of his head at your bad joke. You trudged together through the water, following the only path there was to take. You lit your way with the tiny flashlights but even combined it didn’t do much for you. The bioluminescent plant life growing in the pools helped you at least find your path and you were sure if you needed to then Liu would use his fire. It was eerie. In the distance, there was the sound of falling water and it grew ever louder as you approached.
You finally pinpointed what the bad feeling was. It was like you weren’t supposed to be there, and the cave wanted you out. You knew that this was where you were meant to be and whatever wanted you out was that artifact.
“Careful.” You gestured to another fissure in front of you but this one was half full of water. It went on longer than the first one had, and you’d briefly panicked halfway through. Liu had helped you and then you had helped him when he’d gotten stuck at the end. It didn’t get any better after that. The next fissure was lower, and the water was up to his shoulders which meant you had to swim and squeeze your way through.
“Just hold your breath.” He encouraged and you looked to him skeptically but did your best. The water got down your throat a few times as it splashed around your face, but you managed your way through it. Liu continued right behind you, and it was made much more difficult when the path shrunk at the end. He’d nearly gotten stuck. That would have been a disaster. That cavern was low, and the water was so high you had to swim. The sound of water falling was no longer distant but very close. You searched the small corridor with your flashlight, but it was flickering after being submerged in the water. “Where do we go?” He searched above the water but there was barely any space above you.
“You’re going to hate it.” You pointed with an unhappy groan at the cavern beneath the water, completely submerged. This was a nightmare.
“You’re right, I do.” He shook out his wet hair. You ducked beneath the water, allowed your eyes to adjust to the warmth of it and cringed. It was uncomfortable. The springs in your vision had been small and modest. It was like they’d spread like cancer throughout the cavern thanks to that man and whatever artifact he’d hidden there. Then you came back up and turned to him. “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck, Y/N.”
You ducked beneath the water again, held your breath, and then made your way through the tunnel as quickly and carefully as your body would allow. Just as you thought your lungs would give out, you found a space at the very top of the tunnel that was above the water. It was barely enough for you to tilt your head up and regain your breath but it was more than you needed.
Then you ducked under again and were grateful when the cave opened up and you could bring your head above water into a much, much larger space. The water was way deeper there too and you gasped greedily for breath. Then you turned and waited for Liu Kang to follow you. Seconds later, he popped up next to you, also gasping for breath.
The cavern was huge and you found the source of the rushing water. It poured from an opening above that led to the mountain outside. You caught a glimpse of a tree beyond, but just barely. Water poured from a river from the precipice and down onto two other ledges in between before ultimately falling into the pool that you and Liu had emerged in. There was dry land on either side of the deep pool and you were looking forward to it. Never again if you could avoid it.
Liu reached for your hair to push it back and looked disappointed to find that the flower had gone. You searched the water for it and sighed. You’d forgotten it was there. “Sorry.” You pouted and he smiled anyway. The air in the chamber was heavy and you were set on edge, like something terrible could happen at any moment. Liu was moving toward the shallower water and talking but you couldn’t hear him. There was a high-pitched squeal in your ears.
Liu called to you, but his voice was distant and fading. You couldn’t quite remember why he would be with you or where you were or what you were doing. You turned in search of him, but he was gone.
You were alone and made your way to the shallower water, crawling out just enough so it was up to your thighs. When you turned back, there was a man standing before you. It was him. The creature from your vision and you saw him plain as day. His skin was gray and mysterious patterns shifted beneath the surface, his white eyes surrounded by red flesh, as if he had never slept a day in his life. He wore a hat that fit to the form of his head and curved up into horns. When you blinked, he was standing uncomfortably close in front of you, and you stumbled back. He sneered and the flesh melted from his face, revealing the fanged skull beneath it.
“Who are…” You tried to ask but you choked on your words as his hand plunged into your chest, tearing at your flesh like it was nothing. Pain radiated through your shoulders, down your stomach, and you were blinded by it. You would have collapsed if he had not been holding you in his death grip. His cold fingers wrapped around your heart and you saw your blood ooze down his arm and drench your shirt.
He was killing you.
You were dying.
When you looked back up at him, he was gone but the pain remained. You collapsed into the water, the ground disappearing from beneath your feet as though you had never step foot upon it. You couldn’t breathe.
But you could hear again. The ringing had stopped, and you could hear combat above the water. Through it, you could see the light of Liu’s arcana as he fought off many creatures you couldn’t make out from there. He was trying to get to you but the shapes were overwhelming him. You watched, as if in slow motion, as one of those shapes burned up. Then he was thrown back into the water with a splash and the fire was doused with a hiss of steam.
You panic-swam to the surface. Liu was being held beneath the water by skeletal creatures in tattered robes and tarnished jewelry. They were pulling him further into the deep pool. You grasped at your chest suddenly and discovered there was no wound. It had been an illusion or a vision or something.
There was no time. You had to get to Liu.
You bashed the creature aside that had been pushing him under but there were others pulling him further and further. Taking a deep breath, you dove into the water and willed your ink into your jian. You hadn’t been certain it would work under the water but were pleased to find that it was solid. You slashed one of the creatures to pieces and swam out of the way of another. Then you knocked the one holding Liu away.
He was struggling to keep his breath, hand grasped over his mouth. You pushed his hand aside and pressed your lips to his, offering him the little breath you had left. Then you urged your arm under his and helped kick to the surface. You both gasped for breath, and he coughed up water. You urged him back behind you, defending you both with the jian so he had a chance to regain himself and get to dry land.
The moment he had his footing, he grasped at the natural energy around him and bathed his fists in fire. He twisted and threw the flames and several of the skeletal creatures stumbling toward you burned up. But they didn’t stay down for long. Either they rebuilt themselves or there were tons of them. You twisted with your jian, ducking, and slicing at them as they drew closer, finishing them off when Liu’s fire didn’t.
“This isn’t working!” He coughed as more of them crawled out of the water toward you.
“There’s too many.” You backed up to join him on the small shoreline. If these things kept crawling back to life, then you would be at this until you were exhausted and one of you slipped up. You had to do something drastic. You’d mimicked Kung Lao in Japan but you hadn’t been sure how you’d done it. Could you mimic other things? “You thought that my arcana could mimic things, right?”
“Yeah, you mimicked my hand when you first showed me. Haven’t had much time to train, have we?”
“Could you keep me safe while I try something?”
“Of course.” Liu stepped in front of you and, fists still engulfed in flame, and went after the creatures as they came close. Watching him fight was amazing. It was almost like a dance. Stepping back to offer him more space to fight, you worked with your ink magic. You’d been able to draw with it when you’d been fighting against the tar creature in Japan so why not try that?
Bracing yourself for the energy it would take, you focused on the creatures as they fell beneath Liu’s skilled hands. He stepped back from them and bounced in ready position, extinguishing his fire. You focused only on the space and your ink, your will to make it. Your mind cleared of all other thoughts. Liu stepped back in surprise as you drew solid walls around the creatures, and they filled with ink. Then you slammed your hands together and the walls crushed the creatures trapped within. You felt the crash of those walls rattle through your arms and into your shoulders.
“Damn.” Liu turned to you with admiration. You relaxed your posture but didn’t get to do so for long. Water exploded in a fountain and rained down over you. A huge creature made of bones and skulls rose from the water. It hissed and creaked awkwardly. Its many arms wielded old, rusted weaponry. You summoned your jian back into your hand and stepped up next to Liu who turned back into his stance, hands bathed in fire again.
You waited for the creature to strike. It raised its arms and swung down toward you. You leapt away from the blows. Liu ducked under another and set the arm ablaze and then kicked another back. You leapt over the one he’d kicked and sliced it at the arm and then cut another that was grasping for Liu. You ducked low, rolled back and then knocked the weapon out of another’s grasp. You were always aware of where Liu Kang was. It was unlike any other fight you’d ever been in. It was almost like you’d choreographed it before you’d started. You were so in tune with each other’s energy that you could sense what he was about to do before he did it. You stepped back to allow Liu to keep the creature at bay and with the jian as a pen, you created a heavy chain with ink that attached to the shore. It dripped and then crystallized into form, wrapping around the creature.
Liu rolled over the chain and then knocked the creature back as it pulled, trying to free itself with wild thrashing. Liu flipped backwards and threw fire at the creature that then swatted at him, howling in agony. You leapt atop the chain and ran closer to the creature. You flipped atop the mass that held its many arms. It swung at you wildly and you leapt to the other side of its many heads. With a flourish you drew another chain to wrap around the creature but before you could finish, you were grabbed and thrown back toward the shore.
Liu leapt and caught you, and then gracefully set you down. You bounced to your feet, and you finished the chain and then spun low to the ground, smacking your hand against the stone so that it locked next to the first one. The monster couldn’t move far now but you had to finish it off before you ran out of steam, or it found a way to escape.
Liu nodded toward the creature that thrashed at the chains. They groaned beneath the force. It wouldn’t be held much longer. You threw your jian and it faded into ink and then you mimicked the water, and a wave of ink coated the creature. Ink was flammable. It would smell horrible, but you hoped it would work. “Now, Liu!”
He stepped back, braced his footing and his hand was engulfed in flame, so much so that his flesh seemed to glow orange and crack with bright light. Ducking low, he swung upward and from the water behind the creature, a massive dragon made of fire and lava rose high above it. With a low crouch and a spin of his arms, he slammed his hand to the ground and the dragon opened its great maw and attacked the creature. The ink caught fire just as you had hoped and the creature howled, consumed by flame. Then it stopped thrashing and began to fall toward you with the last bit of its strength.
The shore wasn’t wide enough for you to stay on it, so you grabbed Liu’s arm and you ran from the creature that swept toward you, ablaze, and leapt into the water together. The creature fell after you, its bones scorching and disintegrating as it did. You dove deep beneath the water but as you made your way to the opposite shore, it grabbed your ankle and pulled. You choked and your breath escaped, and you got a mouthful of water and had to resist the urge to breathe and swallow. You fought against the creature’s fading grasp but your lungs were aching so badly that you could do little but kick and flail upward and hope it got you there.
But then Liu’s arm was around you and he pulled you free of its grasp and dragged you above the water. You choked and spat out water, but your lungs were in agony. He pushed your hair back and held you above the water. “Breathe! Breathe, Y/N!”
“Trying.” You croaked and water sputtered past your lips. It was burning at your throat and your lungs, but he had gotten to you before it had gotten worse. You dragged each other to the opposite shore and then Liu urged you to lay back so you could focus on breathing. Then he collapsed on his back next to you to do the same.
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bluexiao · 4 years ago
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having seen raiden’s story quest,,, i’m quite disappointed in a way, but i think having time for herself is necessary,,, i guess? now here are my “complaints” though
(I’m merely pointing these out for constructive criticism, nothing against the character & all. I like Ei in a way I can actually see a few qualities of myself in her but not on her story lmao)
story quest spoilers utc
1. She did genuinely apologize to the traveler for her wrong decisions, which is a good part, but how about to her people? The vision holders? I believe they, most especially, deserve it.
2. Adding to point 1, it seems she only cares Inazuma for Inazuma. She may care for her people, in a way, but I think in her point of view, she sees taking care of Inazuma as a way of taking care of her people. I wish this is somehow addressed in a way? For the future story quest I hope. That’s how I read it, I’m not sure for others.
3. It’s lacking, honestly. I’m not saying I dislike it because it’s quite fun honestly it has a nice pace, but considering the fact that we had 2 previous Archon story quests for Venti & Zhongli, they both have cut scenes in the end, right? Or some kind of meaningful end in a way. For Raiden’s it ended the same way as the Archon Quest did, with Guuji Yae. I don’t have complaints seeing Yae but don’t you think it’s too far-fetched? We haven’t asked Ei about anything before, even in her story quest?? I get the fact that she’s a god but even Venti and Zhongli answered us. Maybe it’s the difference in personality, but still, I think it’s kind of disappointing in my part.
4. The Kujou Kamaji cut scene near the end… seriously one part showed he already has his eyeglasses then the next he doesn’t (he originally doesn’t because it got flown away) it was honestly eyebrow-raising since even that part is kind of “lazy” in Mihoyo’s part. Although that’s just a minor mistake, but still.
5. It needs a part 2. Honestly, Raiden Shogun & Ei needs redemption. Yes, Raiden Shogun may be a puppet but like Ei said, she is the Raiden Shogun, her consciousness is just separate… in a way. I was kind of hoping she would get other people’s insight while looking around but… well, it only showed how the people still love her & etc, but that’s only the perspective of those who weren’t affected by the Sakoku Decree. What of those who bears Visions? Were their Visions returned? Did their Ambitions returned as well? Do they not have something to say to the Shogun? She needs to know those. She doesn’t seem to have a clue what to do, so having her see the perspective of those who were greatly affected by the Decree would help her think of “Inazuma’s way to Eternity”, and I think she will apologize to them as well. Ei doesn’t seem to be a bad person, just a different way of thinking.
6. Wait, adding onto this, does the traveler have anything to gain from this? From what I know in the previous story quests, the traveler asks for their sibling, why is it that it’s not even implied her even for the slightest part??
7. And also just a suggestion to Mihoyo, can you stop it with the 4pc Noblesse Oblige? This is what happened during HuTao story quest as well, also Yoimiya’s. (I just did Hutao’s so I kind of remembered it) Maybe correctly place them with their right artifacts, no? You’re confusing those who wants to build their character correctly plus this takes away so much potential damage for the characters.
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But apart from those, on a positive note, I commend the Eng VA of Kujou Kamaji like wow his lines are very well expressed. As a Theater Artist, I was heavily impressed (hey that kinda rhymes jxjsks)
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the-darklings · 4 years ago
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coa one year later & self-reflection
(*drags out a creaky metal chair and plops down on it heavily*)
Hi. It’s me, ya boi skinny--
Wait, wrong one. Do over.
Hi, it’s me, Kat, and I’m not dead. Clearly. Today being one year anniversary of COA has kinda put me in a reflective mood, so I guess I decided to sit down and just...talk about some things, thoughts and feelings I’ve been bottling inside for a hot sec. Especially given how radio silent I have gone on here and people deserve a bit of perspective. 
And before anyone starts worrying, it’s all good, and I’m still around and currently in good health for the most part. 
So, let’s take it back to the start. Regardless of how dramatic it may sound, we need to go back a year for that. 
By technicality alone, COA actually turned one year old on October 12th. That’s when the first part was posted. However, the reason I’m treating today as the aforementioned birthday is simple: I had no intention of this story ever being more than a short two-parter. I told this to the discord gang already but COA was only going to have two parts. V was going to die in Tokyo and the rest of the story follows glimpses of John throughout the movies and it’s her ghost that haunts him. Skipping ahead, it was going to have a bittersweet ending of John eventually dying, having completed his task, only to be greeted by V, Daisy and Helen in the afterlife. A peace of sorts. Then, I realised that, well, no. I have more to say on this world and intrigue about this placeholder character V kept growing. 
November 1st happened and I made a very last minute call to continue COA but with the added pressure of doing it during NaNoWriMo 2019. And boy did I. Most of the story was figured out during that very intense month. I posted Part 2 on this day a year ago because I was so eager to share it. Perhaps, in retrospect, a bit too eager. 
For those of you who may not know this, I work as a writer full time for my actual every day job. I’m the main writer for an original webcomic called In the Bleak Midwinter on Webtoon.com and have been for almost two years now. Getting what is essentially your dream job is amazing. I’m very lucky on that front but it also taught me stark realities of having your job and only hobby overlap. It’s a dangerous creative mix. Especially because I was not used to being constraint in what I create or the feeling like I have to please anyone else. Writing as a job is a whole other avenue of creative exhaustion. I love my job a lot and am very, very lucky to have it but it doesn’t change the fact that those initial stages made me fall back on COA a lot for creative freedom that I craved so desperately. To an unhealthy degree looking back on it now. 
But going back to November last year. NaNo time. I did it. Finished on the 24/25th I believe. A juicy final count of 52k+. All while maintaining a weekly update schedule for a fic that usually hit around 10k per update, if not more, even during those early days. Add writing an original story on top of that. Writing every day for hours on end (we are talking 10-12hr days) without any time for other hobbies or time for myself in general. I kept pushing and pushing and pushing. Losing weight and sleep in the process. I think the thing that convinced me that I should continue doing so is the fact that the outpour of support for COA ended up surpassing anything I ever expected or even dared to hope for. I’m not a huge numbers person but the outpour of love and just sheer investment in the story and characters blew me away. John Wick fandom is on the smaller side and has been going through downtime when I posted COA so my expectations were...well, small tbh. I like keeping expectations low to avoid any disappointments in general. But I’ve also always had an issue of being a massive 0 or 100 kind of person. If I love something, it consumes me. In this case, it brought me as much joy and freedom as much as it was steadily pushing me towards the ultimate crash. 
That being said, I can’t thank you all enough for every comment, like, reblog and message and fanart. You’re the reason I got this far. With your support. It brightened some really dark days for me.
But. 
To be frank, it’s never been about you guys. I never wrote or pushed because I felt like I had to appease anyone. That creative mindset is pure poison and I long since learned to let go of it. I kept pushing and kept working myself to the bone because I liked it. I liked how reading peoples’ responses made me feel. I liked the addictive nature of reading all the comments and theories after an update. I loved the idea of brightening peoples’ days and giving them something to cheer them up after what might have been a shitty day. Even if that was at expense of my own time/well being. But for a long time, it wasn’t. I love writing a lot but facts remain facts. 
It was beyond unhealthy and burnout wasn’t a question of if but when and that when was approaching at neck-breaking speed. 
So we come to the end of November. Part 4 has just come out. People were invested and I was invested alongside them. I was just finishing up Part 5 which (back then) was the biggest single chapter I’ve ever written and god I still recall my sheer dread because that was the beginning of Santino being established as a LI. Looking back on that now, it’s downright hilarious how worried I was about the reception of him and V together after John.
So honestly, I hit burnout at around Part 8. Because that’s the first time I recall struggling with writing a chapter. Part 8 came out on December 28th. I had a brief break for holidays. But my mistake was not taking longer back then. Because I continued writing with a barely healed burnout. Followed by almost a year of struggling and continuously creating through that state. It wasn’t like I eased off the pressure, either. Oh, no. The chapters grew in size, the world and the characters with it. AUs amassed quickly and while I adore every single one - again, I didn’t know how to pace myself well enough.
I’m spiteful though. The more the chapters struggled the more I pushed against the burnout. By the time Chicago arrived, however, I knew I was in trouble. I ended up writing 43k+ in a span of 2 months, I believe. And while to some it may not seem like a lot given the time frame, it’s a lot when you’re burnout to a crisp & writing an original story for work + deadlines. Which I was burned out and then some. Chicago was something I was looking forward to writing for months. I have built it up since Part 4. It was a long time coming. So while I’m still proud of it, I would be lying if I said that some scenes were not sacrificed for the sake of keeping to my invisible schedule that no one but me actually cared about. You guys have always been patient. I never felt pushed into anything. It’s always only ever been me doing the harm. 
Chicago was the downwards spiral for me mentally. I felt like I was failing to live up to my own expectations. That people were drifting away from it. I was plagued by the thought that the story I poured so much into was falling apart and growing weaker. Which this has always been an issue with me: I am my own harshest critic. Always have been. In fact, I’m a downright mean little fucker when it comes to just tearing at myself. I know writing is for fun - and it is - but I still like the idea of being proud of my work which only made everything worse despite the love each update received. 
This takes us to the beginning of June. Specifically, June the 2nd. Or, as I like to call it: Kat Makes Another Impulsive Decision but This One Actually Works Out For the Better. On this day, I created the COA Discord server. And damn, I’m not sure what exactly I was expecting when I did ngl. I did it for fun and as an escape more so than anything. But somehow it ended up being the best decision I made in a long while. I know some of you are reading this. So love you lots, dorks. It’s such a privilege to be able to call so many of you my friends even outside of COA now. That little community has given me some of the best memories from this year and helped me to crawl out of my own metaphorical pit I was stuck in. Mentally, I’m doing much better than I did beginning of this summer. Which could be summed up as a constant self-hatred cycle and a feeling of inadequacy. 
That, however, does not mean my burnout magically disappeared. If anything Chapter 17 just put a nail in the coffin so to speak. 2020 has been a shitty year just across the board for obvious reasons I don’t need to go into here but that can only partially be attributed to my mental state. Chapter 17 was...exhaustive. To say the least. But I was determined to stick with my vision and not split it up. I was also starting to be a bit more forgiving towards myself in terms of how long I may take to write it thanks to guys on discord though the feeling of failure and worry never quite faded fully. I’m proud of Part 17. Truly. But that was also when I hit rock bottom creatively on COA. It drained me completely. 
I tried writing Part 18 for weeks after, day in and day out, not getting past the first scene and hating every word I wrote. So I took a deep breath and stopped. Figured I let it marinate and wait instead of trying to piece one of the most crucial chapters in this story like some Frankenstein monster two sentences at the time.
So my solution was simple: give myself some distance from it and write other things. Get my spark back. Of course that’s always a good idea. Having multiple creative escapes is the best thing you can do for yourself creatively. There was just one tiny little problem. 
I was still burned out. Still am. The problem went deeper than just being burned out over COA. I was burned out over writing itself. 
Which is an issue for a person who only has writing as a creative outlet.
I don’t have any other way to express myself. So I was stuck in a runt, trying to write because it’s the only thing that makes me genuinely happy even when I really shouldn’t have. And let me tell you. It’s a shitty fucking feeling. My burnout worsened. I had a thousand ideas but every time I tried to get them down it felt forced, fragmented, and weak. Repetitive and dry. Now, this is also in part because English isn’t my native language, so my vocab is limited as a result, but I hit that sweet rock bottom in that regard, too. 
So, I worked on V (but in her OC form Clara), Lucien and The Elites. All those characters have grown so much since you last read about them. I have multiple original projects planned down the line that will feature all of them existing in their own world, with their own stories and no longer constrained by JW canon.  
Which, finally, takes us to the end of October and beginning of November 2020. 
I was convinced that the best course of action was to do NaNo again but with an original story this time (involving V). Suffice to say, it took a grand total of maybe 5-6 days and hating every second of writing it while also feeling like this project I’m so passionate and excited to write (still am) is just...going down the toilet to be blunt, to realise I may have made the wrong call. 
Still, the stubborn ass that I am, I pushed through. Convinced I can get into it if I just keep going. The realizations that I am sharing with you right now won’t have been possible if it hadn’t been for a rather curious turn of events about a week and a half ago.
I recently bought a gaming laptop, all in preparation for Cyberpunk 2077 dropping ofc. But, in the meantime, I kept recommending a game to a friend on the COA server. That game? Far Cry 5. (It’s a blast to play btw, just a side note.) And playing it brought back all the feelings of nostalgia from the days when I used to write for that fandom. So I revisited some old work. Checked the stuff I never published and that has been sitting ducks in my docs for months and hoo boy. Let me tell you it was a vibe check of the worst kind. 
The stark difference in the prose and the ease with which it flowed was...startling. It made me remember why I love writing so much and how proud I used to be of what I wrote back in the day. Which is not to say I’m not proud now, but it was just such a sharp dip in quality it was impossible to ignore.  
So I didn’t.  
I paused NaNo, moving it to another month. I paused writing for everything but work, which with our season coming to an end I will also get a rest from soon, too. I kinda paused in general. For the first time in a while, I finally forced myself to switch off. Rest. 
The reason why I haven’t been on here is simple: guilt and not having energy to be on here. I like making my blog a safe space for everyone. Similar to escape it has become for me. I couldn’t pretend I was fine when I wasn’t. I felt obliged to perform and being here became exhausting. I haven’t been checking my inbox. Haven’t done much of anything except occasionally dropping by and reblogging a random post so people know I’m alive.
And that’s that, folks. That’s where I am currently. Resting. Completely exhausted mentally but resting. Getting my energy back. 
So where does that leave us, huh? If you read this far, dunno what to tell you. Thanks, I suppose. It’s still odd to think people actually care about my existence sometimes.
I know what you’re likely thinking, too. So does this mean COA is never gonna be finished? What is gonna happen to it? Are you abandoning it?
The answer: no. 17 out of 25 chapters and 250k+ in, I’m too far in not to give it a proper conclusion. Not because I owe it to anyone other than myself. I want this story to be a stepping stone for my future as a writer. I want to prove to myself that I can get this done and finish it. As of right now (as you can no doubt tell with how long it’s been since last update) it’s on a soft hiatus while I rest. This rest? Not sure how long it may last. Right now, my plan is till mid December at which point I will reevaluate. Ideally, I finish the year with an update. But my New Year’s resolution is to finish COA. That timeline has become a little more murky now but, again, ideally it’s within the first quarter of 2021. Will that happen? I don’t know. And I don’t want to make false promises, either. 
All I’m saying is that it will be done. I’m just no longer sure how long, exactly, it may take me to reach that Epilogue. I don’t expect many people to stick around for however long it may take me, but if you do, thank you. Truly. I really and deeply mean that. 
So what’s on the cards for this blog in the meantime? Well, CP77 is coming out in under a month (if it doesn’t get moved again lmao rip) and I expect that to be my soft return to posting my writing on here again. We will see where the muse takes me, if at all. Regardless though, I’m excited. 
One doctorate thesis later, here we are at the end of this really long rambling session. I hope that this has given you some perspective on things going on behind the scenes. I spared you some of the gorier details but I think this post has been long overdue. I suppose I, myself, was just too unwilling to face these things despite knowing about them deep down for a while now. I’m too self-critical not to notice but acting on correcting this behavior has been a whole other matter clearly. 
Thank you for reading this post, my writing in general, and supporting me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m still around. More is on the way in the future. I’ll be seeing you all real soon. And all my love to all of you. 
Love,
- Kat.   
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astoldbygingersnaps · 4 years ago
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#wip wednesday
it’s me, ya boy, back with Yet Another New Project!
this time, i bring you the beginnings of a oneshot dreamt up by alexa continuing to fan the flames of my shiita brainrot. enjoy!
There are very few moments in Itachi’s life that he can point to and say that he felt truly content. Many of them are from his childhood, small snatches of memory that involve his mother’s cooking or his brother’s laugh. One or two even contain his father, tiny blips of interaction where the man’s unbearable expectations and slavish dedication to duty had slipped away to reveal the human heart beating deep within him. But Itachi would be lying if he tried to claim that the majority of those moments did not include the friend that is currently sitting beside him.
This, however, is not one of those moments.
Currently they’re on the outskirts of Konoha’s vast forests, the coverage against the afternoon sun thinning as the leaves wither in the crisp, autumn air. A gentle breeze rolls through, not harsh enough to chill but the current rakes its way through Shisui’s hair, making it even more unkempt than usual. Itachi’s keenly aware of this fact, and of Shisui’s general presence, as the man has himself wedged close to Itachi, his head resting on Itachi’s knees as he prattles on about Itachi’s least favorite subject: his love life. 
It’s a fascinating contrast, the image of Shisui thoughtlessly draped over Itachi as he drives the knife that is his sexual history deeper and deeper between Itachi’s ribs. But it’s not a wound that Itachi holds Shisui accountable for, not really. Painful though it may be, it’s not as if Shisui is thoughtless or intentionally cruel; it’s merely a side-effect of Itachi’s most closely guarded--and frankly most terrifying--secret.
Often, Itachi has considered telling Shisui the truth, fantasized about what the various outcomes of such an action would be. Still, each time he’s come close to confessing, the words sitting precariously on the very tip of his tongue, Itachi swallows them down like a bitter taste. After all, there’s just no neat and tidy way to say, “I’ve loved you since we were children.” So, Itachi says nothing at all, day after day, month after month, year after year.
“Are you even listening to me?” Shisui asks, in the whiny tone of voice he always gets when Itachi isn’t giving him his full attention. On any other person, it would be an annoying affectation, but Shisui has a way of making even his worst traits charming.
Yet another truth Itachi refuses to tell him. “I’m riveted,” he replies dryly, never taking his eyes off the book in his hand, fighting a smile as Shisui groans in frustration. 
“You’re a terrible friend,” Shisui says, his faux-offended expression lingering on the edge of Itachi’s vision, and in response Itachi lifts his book to block out the sight of Shisui completely.
“The worst,” Itachi hums in agreement, finally giving into a laugh when Shisui grabs the novel he’s been only mildly interested in and chucks it out of Itachi’s reach. Raising an eyebrow, Itachi looks at the discarded tome, its pagings rustling in the breeze, before glancing back at Shisui. “A bit excessive, don’t you think?”
“How come we never have these conversations about your romantic woes?” Shisui retorts, and the question is so unexpected and uncomfortable Itachi feels the neutral mask of his features start to crack.
“What?” 
Watching him critically, Shisui sits up, resting his cheek in his palm as he leans more of his weight across Itachi’s body. “I’m serious. All the times you’ve had to listen to me bitch and moan about this stuff, and not once have you ever chimed in with problems of your own. What gives?”
“Perhaps I don’t believe in kissing and telling,” Itachi replies, tone more clipped than he means it to be. Though he doesn’t resent Shisui for his curiosity, a part of him can’t help but be annoyed that somehow such a finely trained officer doesn’t realize he’s stepped on top of a massive landmine. 
Rather than take a moment to read the metaphorical room, however, Shisui presses on with his typical single-minded focus. “Oh, come on,” he argues. “It’s just us, Itachi. You know you can tell me anything.”
Despite his best efforts, Itachi can feel his stomach clenching at the proclamation. For a moment, he weighs the pros and cons of what admitting the truth would be, and is displeased to discover what the best option is. “There’s nothing to tell,” he says, shrugging as if the words don’t mean a thing, and carefully keeps his eyes off Shisui’s face.
The funny thing about Shisui is that, for all his gifts with the Sharingan’s manipulations and illusions, he’s a shockingly open book outside of his profession. Surprise paints itself across his face, all wide eyes and an open mouth, and against his will Itachi feels a flush burning at the base of his throat. “Wait, seriously?” he asks, voice low as if they’re trading secrets of national security rather than engaging in petty gossip. 
In response Itachi tugs his legs out from under Shisui, taking an unkind satisfaction in his friend’s grunt as he hits the ground. Still, the movement is, in Itachi’s mind, a tactical retreat; there’s no need to feel physically trapped when Shisui already has his metaphorically pinned down. “I’m gonna kick you.” 
“Don’t,” Shisui mutters, whiny again, as he grabs Itachi’s leg with his trademark speed. The touch burns against the bare skin of his ankle, and Itachi shakes him off with a scowl. “I’m not being an asshole--”
“All evidence to the contrary,” Itachi cuts in, annoyed.
Graciously Shisui ignores that and continues, “It’s just surprising, you know? Because you’re… Well, you.” 
Itachi feels his stomach twist. “What is that supposed to mean?” 
Shisui looks at him, and absurdly Itachi feels like an opponent on the wrong side of Shisui’s kunai. “Nothing, I guess,” he eventually offers, quietly, and the statement is so outside of Shisui’s typical cheerful, confident persona that Itachi can’t help but feel profoundly unsettled.
The truth is he’s kept himself guarded in this fashion for a variety of reasons, some he can admit to Shisui and others he’d rather be disemboweled than confess to another living soul. Part of his reluctance stems from the plain fact that he’s simply too busy with other matters to commit to dating of all things. Between his obligation to his village, his devotion to his brother, and his own ambitions at eventually securing the Hokage’s chair, he doesn’t have time to waste on a frivolous matter like courtship. 
He also knows that, somewhere down the line, his father will no doubt want to marry him off, eager to pass on the talent and promise of the esteemed Uchiha prodigy. Frankly, the man would have probably done it sooner if he hadn’t felt some gratitude towards his son for working with Shisui to end the feud between their clan and the village, thus granting the Uchiha a much higher standing in Konoha. But at twenty-three, Itachi knows he can’t count on his father’s good graces much longer, meaning the inevitable grows that much closer with each passing day. 
The other issue is… a bit more delicate. Itachi’s far too pragmatic to invest in the concept of virginity as something sacred, something special to be shared with exactly the right person at exactly the right time. But it does strike him as unfair to go to bed with a person and offer them a lie instead of himself, knowing that for every moment spent together his thoughts will be firmly locked onto someone he can never have. 
Rather than reveal any of that, however, Itachi simply says, “Sex has never been a very high priority of mine.” 
“That’s kind of depressing,” Shisui replies. “You should get out there. Play the field, have fun.” 
Itachi’s just irritated enough at his continued cross-examination of his personal life that he asks the unthinkable: “Why, are you offering?” 
In hindsight, Itachi supposes that after carrying the burden of his feelings for so long such a slip-up was inevitable. But it feels less like an understandable mistake and more like a battlefield miscalculation, one dangerous enough to leave him wide-open to a counterstrike.
That in mind, perhaps it should come as no surprise when Shisui counters, ”Do you want me to?”
to be continued.
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chaoticevilbean · 4 years ago
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Trying my hand at an Avatar Sokka AU. Gonna be weird Bc thassa me and I’m just That. Anyways, don’t expect too Much from this. And I’m gonna try to Make it good, but I also Haven’t watched the show a million times. Just a few.
It’ll probably include:
- No one knowing Sokka’s the Avatar except Kanna and Kya
- Sokka as Chief of the SWT. I will probably make him younger when his father leaves for plot purposes.
- Sokka starts as a firebender because the Spirits do something. It will never be clarified what they do.
- The former Avatar was Aang’s friend and saved him and Appa after they decided to run away together. However, it was only the duo that got put in the iceberg, preserved by the Avatar’s power, and that Avatar went into hiding without his best friend. He stayed alive and in hiding until he knew that it was unlikely anyone thought he was still alive. If it was assumed that the Avatar was gone forever, his successor would be safe from the Fire Nation. Especially because the raids would ensure the Earth Kingdom would be suspect instead of the Water Tribes.
- When the raids were done, the previous Avatar pulled a Jedi Master and just straight-up died to pass on the responsibilities.
- Sokka didn’t discover his abilities until he was about five or six. It was during a raid and he was with his mother and grandmother. He learned to control it quickly with their help. By control, I mean he doesn’t randomly cause steam or smoke or light firepits. He can hold his flames inside.
- Sokka attempted to copy the moves of the raiders who used bending, but found that waterbending moves like those his sister did worked better on the ice. Since he grew up with the Midnight Sun and Polar Night, he isn’t affected by them. (Also, his Avatar Spirit balances it out a lot.)
- Sokka thinking he’s just a firebender because the raids have been going on for a hundred years, but then Kanna has him do a test and the results are absolute. He is the Avatar.
- Sokka trying to imagine what an airbender would bend like. Sneaking out in harsh winds and practicing to bend with light steps and using the air to lift him higher. Building up his lungs and trying to be as though he’s in the mountains or soaring above treetops.
- He doesn’t get far, but he gets started.
- Using his lung power and inner flames to dive deep and long to catch fish and gather other supplies. More often after his father left.
- When Aang comes along, Sokka observes his every move, trying to master them in private late at night, with the excuse of keeping watch
- Aang is taken by Zuko because he’s an airbender and they’re supposed to be extinct
- Sokka eventually gets good enough with both the firebending he learned from his enemies and the airbending he learned from his friend to start waterbending. He’s sort of good because he’s been using the moves for years (amateurish but still used)
- The trips go the same, only they’re now just trying to find possible teachers for the Avatar and the Avatar themself so they can somehow teach the person all at once before the comet
- Aang connects to the Spirit World because he’s a monk and he knew the other former Avatar extremely well. The Spirits allow him passage.
- Aang causes Sokka some panic when he compares him to his ‘old friend, the previous Avatar’. Sokka eventually gets used to it.
- Zuko tracks the Gaang because they’re his only lead.
- Sokka acts solely as a nonbender when around anyone because he doesn’t want to be the Avatar. Yes, he knows the war is awful. Yes, he grew up with it. But that’s exactly why he doesn’t want to be the Avatar. He grew up with raids and the death and destruction that followed. His mother died protecting his sister when they were so young. All the men, the hunters and warriors, left the tribe and left Sokka in charge when he was a preteen. The war has brought nothing but sorrow, and Sokka doesn’t think he can overcome something so huge, so insurmountable. So he acts as much like a nonbender as he can.
- He isn’t sexist towards Suki because Kyoshi makes sure he has that stamped out early on. Instead, the moment the blindfold is off, he’s craning his neck back to see the statue of his past life. Suki thinks he’s a bit thick, and Katara doesn’t understand but covers for his preoccupation.
- Sokka learns to be a Kyoshi Warrior when Kysohi literally takes him over during the night and steals both warpaint and an outfit, and then teaches him to properly wear it all. Suki finds him firebending in full Kyoshi garb and using the fans. She assumes that he’s just the product of the Fire Nation’s cruelty.
- However, she does ask why he stole their gear and how he’s using the fans better than most newbies.
- “Kyoshi.” “What?” “Kyoshi... possessed me... and taught me how to be like you... and she’s proud of you.” “... is this normal for the Avatar’s friends?”
- Suki doesn’t tell the others under the conditions that she ‘take over for Kyoshi’ in training him and she can figure him out for herself through that.
- At the Fire Temple, the group gets separated, but Sokka is called by Roku to the Solstice room. He ends up managing to get inside with the help of Shyu, who understands he’s protecting himself and others by hiding.
- The others still get captured, and Shyu claims that Sokka made a controlled explosion to get in (the original idea until Shyu told him he knew the boy was the Avatar). Aang tells Katara that Roku sealing the chamber means Sokka is being spoken to. Zuko and Zhao are still there as well.
- When Roku takes over to tear down the temple, he disappears into an obscure hallway so Sokka can regain control without his friends knowing.
- Toph finds out Sokka is the Avatar when she ‘sees’ him practicing. She starts demanding he ‘keep her company’ when she does daily bending practice (they all do it so they can improve enough to eventually teach the Avatar and fight the Firelord). Whenever Toph ‘sees’ Sokka make a mistake while practicing earthbending, she uses the correct moves the next day and makes sure she’s in full view of Snoozles.
- Sometimes Toph drags Sokka over to watch Katara and Aang practice because she’s ‘bored’.
- Aang goes to see the Guru and when he’s heading back because he was given a vision of Katara in danger, he explains what he learned to Sokka. Sokka takes Aang’s place in their plan, so he is the one who helps Iroh rescue Zuko and Katara.
- When Azula starts to attack and it looks like they’ll lose, Sokka hides himself and is ignored because he’s presumed a nonbender. He goes through opening his chakras in what is definitely record time, but Sokka’s always been good at following plans/instructions (not orders, instructions, like how-to’s and stuff). He has to let go of his attachments to the Gaang, to his tribe, to Yue, Suki, and those he met on his journey. He does so by considering the fact that by letting go of his focus on them in particular, he can focus on stopping the larger problems, the problems that are likely to or are causing them harm.
- Sokka enters the Avatar State just as Aang enters, and the chaos causes Azula to think Aang is the Avatar. When she shoots him with lightning, Sokka drops from the Avatar State and gets his family out of there.
- Zuko still turns against them, but Agni’s voice is strong, and Sokka sees the same brotherly nature as he has within the boy.
- After taking the FN ship, Katara brings up a discussion of who the Avatar could be because they were there and helped the group, and Sokka makes up a vague story of how someone pulled him out of the battle (to explain his disappearance). Toph acts like she’s actually wondering, but pulls Sokka aside later and tells him she knows.
- Sokka can use metalbending, but doesn’t do it often if at all because he’s so used to hiding and he feels like it’s Toph’s thing. She stamps that out once she gets sick of it.
I might add more, but I’m just plotting this out right now, and I’m gonna try it out later when I have the time. If you want, suggest stuff. If you hate this idea, then please give me constructive criticism instead of pure wrath. I’m still going to include a character arc that hopefully does Sokka justice, but instead of focusing on his dismantling of his former sexist ways and learning that not being some big tough guy is okay (he can love shopping and fashion, he can love poetry, he can love dresses and makeup, he can love singing and have fun and pick up fine arts and paint), it’ll be more of him opening up and learning that he is strong enough, and if he isn’t, he has friends and family for a reason. He’ll learn how to be more confident in his abilities and how to let his true self shine more than his fake one.
Have at It.
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one-shot-plus-size · 4 years ago
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From Sons of Anarchy to Mayans MC
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Jax's sister must hide from the revenge of SAMCRO enemies, goes to Mayans MC Santo Padre. And he catches the eye of a la presidente.
Chapters 10/20
Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language. They will accept any attention and criticism :)
Part 9
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Pov Bishop
I looked at her from the angle of my eye, she ate quietly staring at her plate.
- Everything ok ?
- Sure - she was nodding her head.
- You are quiet lately.
- I have a lot of work and I am just tired.
- You are clearly working too much - I twisted my head - I talked to the guys, we want to go out of town for a few days. Taza has a house by the lake, we want to rest.
- Sure, go. I'll take care of this brothel here - she smiled from ear to ear - you're probably tired after running.
- You didn't understand - I laughed.
- Apparently not - she wrinkled her eyebrows.
- She wants you to come with us, to rest. She left the whole damn drawing and reset her brain. She promises you a separate room with her own bed, we'll cover some fire and so on.
I saw her biting her lower lip, fighting an internal fight.
- Don't let me ask you - I approached her - if you don't agree, I will ask Angela to force you into the car.
- I beat him once and I can do it again - she threatened me with a finger.
- But Gilli can do it - I'm up.
- Fact - she murmured under my nose.
- I understand that it was decided - I smiled - I am very happy that it went so easily and that you agreed. We are leaving on Thursday evening.
- Bish - she moaned.
- I can't hear - I yelled out and went to the boys.
Pov Olivia
- I fucking growled under my nose.
Everything was going wrong, I came back with a look at the door behind which Bish disappeared. After a few moments Ezekiel stood in the door.
- I still clearly missed you here.
- Bish convinced you? - He leaned against the frame.
- Yeah - I purrred.
- Will you tell him ? - he smiled from ear to ear.
- What should I tell him ?
- Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about - he went inside and closed the door behind him - remember that I am the smartest here. So when you're going to confess that you've felt something for Bishop.
- I don't know what you're talking about - I turned my back on him.
- Oh, come on - he came up to me and sat on my desk - and I see what's going on, those stolen looks, those fleeting smiles. And of course your expression on the face when you see him with some girl, Vicki.
- Stop making up stories about Ezekiel - I looked into his eyes - apparently you are not as smart as they think you are.
He laughed and patted me on the shoulder.
- I love your defensive reflex, but I know what I see.
- Ez not a word to anyone, if anything slips out of your mind. It promises you that I will skin you alive and you will suffer.
- So you admit it?
- No, I purr.
He laughed loudly and left my room closing the door behind him. I laid down in an armchair and breathed deeply. I was at least hoping to get my room. As Bish said on Thursday evening we were on our way to a place to rest. The boys left their jacket at home, it was a weekend of rest, not club business. I was one of the two women among 11 boys, apart from Bishop's club, Marcus and Nathaniel were also coming with us. Fortunately, Coco's daughter Leticia decided to join us. She is much younger than me but somehow she gets along with her. I had a seat between Angel and Hank. Bishop was driving and Taza was sitting on the passenger seat. The second car was driven by Gilli, Riz, Creeper and Ezekiel and the last one by Coco, Leticia, Marcus and Nathaniel. I leaned my head on Angel's shoulder, he covered my shoulder.
- Sleep - he whispered.
- This is my plan.
Pov Bishop
From time to time I peeked at Olivia cuddling up to Reyes. I knew it didn't mean anything between them but I felt a sting of jealousy. I opened the window, lit a cigarette and stared at the road. I looked at Taza sitting next to me and smiled under his nose. I wrinkled my eyebrows when he looked at me.
- I am not saying anything - he raised his hands in a defensive gesture.
- But you think something - I purr.
- This is my right - he laughed.
I threw the cigarette out the window and looked at it. He was smiling under his nose all the time, shaking his head slightly and not looking at me. He knew, he guessed.
- Not a word to anyone - I whispered.
- A bright present - he laughed.
Around 5 pm we parked our cars in the driveway of Tazy's house.
- I have already wondered a few times where did you get the money for the second cottage? I can barely grasp one - I dragged myself.
- This is the house that I inherited from my grandparents and the ranch is my mother's, so I didn't get to anything myself.
I looked around, nature and silence that prevailed here soothed my nerves.
- The hell Reyes - Olivia jumped out of the car - nobody taught you manners.
Hank looked at her and smiled slightly.
- Something we missed? - Leticia was looking at them.
- Angel decided to wake up Olivia, well, she didn't necessarily like it - Hank spoke through tears.
- Something feels that the way was interesting.
- He put his saliva finger in my ear - she rudged up - I will take revenge for it.
- I can't wait - he looked at her.
I laughed under my nose and twisted my head. They were like children, children who got some free time.
Pov Olivia
I was glowing around, breathing deeply. Fresh air hit my lungs, I smiled wide. The surrounding area was really beautiful and calm, I moved my gaze away from the guys. They laughed, they looked really relaxed. I went up to the trunk and grabbed my backpack.
- Let me help you - Bish came to me with his arm outstretched.
- I can handle it, I can deal with it - I patted him on the shoulder.
He turned his head and laughed, grabbed his bag and we all went to a beautiful house. The two-storey wooden house looked beautiful in this scenery and the lake added charm to this place. We went inside, the whole house was kept in a rural style. We went upstairs, Taza showed each of the boys a room.
- This one is yours - Taza smiled wide.
- Wait what? - I stopped in half a step.
- There was a small change, Coco wants to keep an eye on Leticia, so we had to change the layout. I hope this is ok?
I looked at Bishop and he rubbed my neck nervously.
- I don't care - I tried to sound as nonchalantly as possible.
- There is one big bed in the room - Taza was smiling from ear to ear.
- Taza, are you insinuating something? - I supported myself with my waist.
- I'm just saying - he raised his hands in a defensive gesture.
- We will manage, right ? - I looked at Bishop.
- Sure - he nodded his head.
- So show me where our nest is - I breathed.
I followed Tasha, and the moose followed me. We got a bedroom with a terrace that looked out onto the lake.
- But chad - I went out to the terrace - a beautiful view, I can already imagine it. Coffee in the morning, admiring the beautiful lake with the silence around. I hope Bish that you do not snore? Because it could spoil this vision.
- I happen to snore sometimes - he smiled from ear to ear.
- Don't believe him - Taza twisted his head - he snores like an old tractor.
- I don't think he wants to know how you know it - I laughed and looked at the bridge - can you take a bath in this lake?
- Sure - the older one nodded his head.
- That's good, because I have an opportunity for revenge.
- What are you talking about?
Pov Bishop
She did not manage to answer me because she rushed to the first floor and the court. I went out with Taza to the terrace, Angel was standing on the edge of the pier over the water.
- He will be angry - Taza looked at me.
- I know - I nodded my head - but I don't want to spoil her fun. Sometimes it is good to see someone rubbing his nose.
I leaned against the railing and watched him walk over the bridge towards him. Angel didn't completely expect this, she stood behind him and hit him hard in the back. Reyes got wobbly and fell into the water with a splash. Taza laughed loudly, just like Coco who was standing by.
- What the fuck? - Angel emerged from the water.
- I told you that I would get revenge - she was standing on the platform and laughed loudly.
- That means war - he growled and climbed back on the platform - I feel like a hug.
- Don't even try - she started walking in the opposite direction.
- Come on - he spread his arms wide.
- Angel did not - she started running home.
- Like children - I twisted my head.
- Let them play - Taza patted me on the shoulder.
- Bish - she fell into the room - your man went crazy.
She stood behind me, and in fact, she hid.
- I wonder why what? - I looked over my shoulder.
- I have no idea - she was smiling all the time.
A few moments later a wet Angel fell in, stopped a few steps before me.
- Pres - nodded his head.
- What would you like what ? - I rest my hands on my hips.
- It is not over yet - Angel threatened her with a finger - be careful.
- Go change - Taza approached him - you leave wet marks.
I turned to her when they left our room. She was smiling from ear to ear looking into my eyes.
- I am sorry.
- All right - I twisted my head - it was funny.
- He deserved it after the wet square in my ear - she entered the room.
- Something feels that these few days will be funny - I followed her.
- Of course she did - she sat on the bed - that's what these days are about. To laugh, have fun and rest. With things going on in the club you need it.
- You too - I pointed my finger at her.
- Bright me too - she nodded her head.
Part 11
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I know you don't like BC anymore because of S7 But I like the way you answer the questions That's why I decided to ask I rewatched the first four seasons and realized something strange My question is long so I took it apart CL was never conceived as a big love At least JR didn't do that Maybe KS worked for it, and when he came back 130years later, still CL S6 continued but I thought it wasn't the original plan for JR.
People call it big CL, but I don't really understand what CL is being mentioned At least romantically The same is true for BC Before Finn's reaction 108 there was only friendship development jealousy confirmed this For CL,this only started at 214 But even then,C said she was not ready to have a relationship with anyone "in general" So he was saying this to himself.Well a few episodes ago, because love was a weakness, kept B away from herself B didn't send anyone to look for her s1e11
I'm not sure if these asks are in the right order or if there were suppose to be more asks, but these are the ones I got.
I very rarely talk about show Bellarke anymore because as you said, I don't ship them anymore. I'll try my best to answer this but honestly, I just couldn't care less about show Bellarke and I would never want Clarke anywhere near Bellamy (so I'm not sure I can be empathetic towards her)
Basically this is my interpretation. Lxa wasn't supposed to be Lxa at first. They wanted a child actor to play Heda but for different reasons that didn't happen. They cast ADC. Everyone knows Lxa was there to be an antagonist to Clarke but also a mirror to who Clarke could be.
Then they saw chemistry between Clarke and Lxa and it was Kim who suggested they kiss (if I remember it correctly). There were no plans to write CL the way it ended up being written. Jason only had the Lxa story for season 2. They didn't plan on having Lxa in season 3.
Then came the fan reaction to Lxa and CL. Jason was clearly surprised but also happy with the reaction and it fed him. He used that popularity and reaction to push for more Lxa/CL. Yet he still had no long term plans for them. But he wanted to buy more time, more screentime/scenes for them.
Since ADC had already signed with AMC, they had to fight to get ADC back in order to "finish the story". A story that Jason hadn't even planned on by the end of season 2. He even said the plan was for the story to go on and for everyone to know Lxa was out there with other grounders doing her job but not part of the story on the show. But he wanted to use her popularity to sell the show and elevate it into the sort of show he wanted or believed he was making. From the moment Jason started writing season 3, Lxa was always going do die, it was even hinted at in season 2!
So he developed a romantic relationship within 7 episodes. What was shown on screen was not what he was saying online. He used fans and their love for the character, to sell season 3. I do believe Clarke and Lxa had a connection and understood each other. I think they were attracted to each other. I think Lxa was into Clarke more than Clarke was into Lxa. Not because Clarke couldn't but because they didn't give Clarke the time to fully develop those feelings. Lxa already had them. Right when Clarke allowed herself to acknowledge those feelings, they killed Lxa.
I think Lxa was supposed to be an important character for Clarke for many different reasons and I would never claim that they weren't romantic/had feelings because they clearly did but the notion that a two week romance was THE relationship for Clarke, as an 18 year old girl, is ridiculous.
I think the disconnect here is that CL shippers and Jason (when he tried to do damage control after) sold CL as big, important and everlasting relationship on a 7 episodes built up. The vision of what fans wanted for CL, what they saw for CL, what they wished for CL was sold as canon after 7 episodes. I would argue, fans elevated CL to that status from sheer WISHFUL thinking of what wanted CL to BE but that they in canon weren't, at least, they never got the built up or time to BECOME what fans saw in their vision. But they made it "the truth" on social media and made it canon in their minds and sold CL as such after only 7 episodes. Regardless of the fact that it was Clarke's show, Clarke's journey or the fact that Clarke was only an 18 year old who had her entire life in front of her.
The way in which Jason killed Lxa also goes to show how little he understood fans and how little he cared about any emotional connection to Lxa. He cared as long as the story gave him want he wanted for the show; recognition, an audience, money, more seasons etc.
The backlash against Jason is a huge part of how the story was told after season 3. Suddenly even on the show, they started writing Lxa and her memory differently and they gave more meaning to the relationship that had ever gotten in the scripts. The I love you in 3x16 was ADR. It was added only AFTER the backlash. It wasn't even in the script. The Lxa mentions in 4x01 (Clarke and Abby's talk wasn't even scripted at first. The actor playing Abby made them write it and keep it in the episode). All these extra Lxa mentions, rewriting the relationship or the build up of the relationship was damage control. It was an answer to all the criticism. To give CL more depth and meaning after death. As if it was good enough for fans. It wasn't.
The thing is, people say "oh you only call it damage control and not canon because you don't ship CL". The thing is, it's such an insult to themselves and their ship when they say stuff like that. CL fans should acknowledge that they were used and that most of the things after season 3 was damage control. That should be the real problem here, that they were used like that. They should want and expect better than a pitty damage control tour. CL could have been great and exactly what they envisioned CL to be or become. But they never got the screentime to become that. They killed Lxa off right before their potential could be reached. So now all that lost potential has somehow been made into being canon because CL fans think "this is what CL was even though they never got the time to achieve it). That's the thing. They COULD have sure but they never did. They ended with the potential but the potential in your vision is not canon. Yet they made it so.
So we have fan backlash against Jason and the show and it changed a lot for the story due to damage control. And through Lxa's popularity, she became some sort of martyr in their eyes and so much interest and equally pressure would put on the show, Clarke and Jason, that they keep Lxa as a ghost in the story. Clarke was never allowed to grow up and have a life outside of Lxa, the show started to revolve around the AI and even though there were several other commanders, it somehow always came down to Lxa. And then Jason got a chance to right his mistake when he got ADC to come back. To win some points with fans. Look how great he is, right? But yet again, he showed his true colors. He didn't make CL endgame, he didn't even bring Lxa back. He literally had ADC on set again and he made her an alien in Lxa's clothes. If we are gonna talk about ship, you had the actor right there and could have made it become real since you CLAIM you did it for fans. Yet. He. Did. Not. Do. That. He made Lxa an alien. And then what did he do? He did an interview where he claimed it was a "greatest love" yet he never once told that story in the finale. He didn't even let Lxa be Lxa. But he could do an interview playing with people's emotions again because it would give him support and extra points from CLs. But in canon? He never had to follow through for a single second. It was all left in the open.
So no, not much of anything was his original plan and it shows. Personally, I think he thinks losing Lxa was his biggest mistake (only after he saw the fan reaction to her) and if he could, there is no doubt in my mind he would have kicked Clarke out as the main for Lxa.
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howtowhumpyourhiccup · 4 years ago
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Whumptober Day 5: Collapsed Building
Summary: Written for Whumptober Day 5. Also takes place in my Httyd Zombie AU. Main fic to follow. Sometimes Hiccup's plans can get a little out of hand and when it does, sometimes his Riders can get into trouble for that. This time, it's Fishlegs and Tuffnut.
Rating: Teen and up
Characters: Fishlegs, Tuffnut, Ruffnut, Hiccup, Toothless
Pairing: None
Words: 1 354
Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon
Prompt: Failed escape + Rescue
Whumpee: Fishlegs, Tuffnut, Hiccup
Author’s Notes: This started out as Fishlegs whump, but then suddenly Tuffnut got whumped, but then Hiccup demanded a scene... So three whumpees for one prompt! It's been fun!
Constructive criticism is appreciated!
Enjoy!
Day 5 and I’m honestly getting really tired of all this tagging.
Ao3
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At the same time, they hear the explosion going off, they can feel the whole building rumbling beneath their feet.
Fishlegs and Tuffnut don't know what exactly is happening downstairs on the ground floor, but when everything starts to crumble around them, they know at the very least that it's gone horribly wrong.
Hiding away from the Dragon Hunters, Fishlegs was hoping to take care of an injury, a nasty gash on a leg from a terrible fall combined with an unlucky landing. It's been bleeding quite profusely and his shoe and sock are both stained.
Tuffnut had found him and wanted to help him out. But then the explosion happens and the two know they need to run.
So Tuffnut pulls Fishlegs up to his feet and takes his weight upon his shoulders to the best of his ability.
"Come on, we can make this. We can make this, right?!" Tuffnut huffs and puffs, not quite as strong as his friend, but still attempting to carry him to safety.
They are trying to make it to the stairs while the floor is collapsing beneath them and the ceiling is caving in above them. Fishlegs still tries to make it on his own strength, but his leg hurts terribly and he needs Tuffnut to get out of this situation.
It is terrifying, they can feel their hearts pounding in their ears and the adrenaline threatening to slow them down. The floor and walls are rumbling and crumbling and their legs struggle to keep them up.
But they have to outrun the destruction, they have to somehow get to the ground floor from the fourth floor in time without getting hit or falling while the building shakes with such force as if an earthquake has taken hold of its foundations.
"There it is!" Fishlegs shouts, spotting the staircase down. But then part of the ceiling comes down and the two abruptly stop to not be flattened. The debris blocks their way down the stairs.
"No!"
"Oh no!"
"What do we do now?!" Tuffnut asks, gaze shooting into every possible direction to find another way out. Except, those stairs were the only ones off this level.
"I don't know, Tuff. I don't know!" Fishlegs answers, feeling the creeping dread and panic at the possibility that they may not be getting out of this predicament alive.
Another, fiercer rumbling comes following a second explosion and both Riders are thrown off their feet. Keeping their balance is impossible.
"Hey! Look here! Fishlegs, bro!" A familiar grating voice calls to them in urgency and they look over to the broken windows to find Ruffnut on top of Barf and Belch. Each head gurgles at Tuff to make him come running.
Without another word, they struggle back up to their feet and hurry over. Fishlegs hobbles over while Tuffnut runs. If they can just make it to Ruffnut and Barch, they'll be safe.
But just as they are about to reach the window, a large chunk falls and hits the male twin on the head.
"No, Tuff!"
"Tuffnut!"
Ruffnut and Fishlegs both shout as Tuffnut crumples to the floor unceremoniously. Blood immediately escapes the wound and stains his hair and the concrete floor.
Jumping off her head of the Zippleback, Ruffnut runs over, shielding her own head even though that will really do nothing against the falling debris.
"Get on the dragon, Fishlegs!" She shouts at her friend, who had collapsed onto the ground as well with his loss of support.
While he continues to Barf and Belch, getting up and dragging his injured leg, Ruff picks up her brother from the back, turning him onto his back, hooking her arms under his shoulders and wrapping a forearm of his around his middle for leverage before dragging him towards the open window.
She's in too much of a rush to do it carefully, but she manages to get him to the dragon. As Fishlegs gets on one head, she maneuvers Tuffnut up on Barch's back before getting on her head and together they escape. It is only seconds later that the entire fourth floor is gone.
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Back at camp, the Dragon Riders are gathered around Tuffnut. He's lying on a sleeping bag with a pillow and his head wound bandaged up neatly.
"And he'll be okay, right?" Ruffnut asks Hiccup, who sits on a chair opposite to Fishlegs'. His foot is up on Hiccup's seat between his thighs as he works on disinfecting and stitching up the gash, his pant leg rolled up as far as it will go. His wound is deep enough to require stitches if they want to prevent an infection.
Pulled out of his concentration, Hiccup briefly looks up to her before returning to what he's doing.
"We won't know, Ruff. Not until he wakes up." Hiccup tells her and since it's been only an hour, Tuff's chances of being perfectly fine are still relatively high.
Ruffnut isn't too comforted by his answer, but she takes it knowing that it's a realistic one. She sits down on the sleeping bag next to Tuff, sighing. She draws her knees up and wraps her arms around them. Astrid kneels by her and places a hand on her shoulder.
Hiccup is quiet as he takes care off Fishlegs' leg, occasionally glancing the twins' way. There is a deep frown on his face and his vision is going blurry. He has to wipe at his eyes with his sleeves.
"Are you okay, Hiccup?" The man before him asks, noticing the watery eyes.
"I'm fine." Hiccup answers after swallowing the lump in his throat.
He finishes working on Fishlegs' injury and bandages it up. By then Tuffnut wakes up long enough for him to be hugged by his sister and be showered with well-wishes from the Dragon Riders. He's also diagnosed with an awful concussion, but he seems fine otherwise and all he needs is enough rest.
Good news for sure, but still one of the Dragon Riders quietly leaves the group after the most likely diagnosis is shared. He needs to be alone.
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Hiccup feels like he can't breathe.
His friends had been in that building.
The one he wanted to blow up to be rid of this Dragon Hunter operation wasn't as empty as he thought it was. Fishlegs and Tuffnut were in there, one of them injured and the other simply trying to help him.
He nearly killed them. Two of his best friends, his only remaining loved ones that he swore to protect for as long as he may live. He nearly killed them with his own two hands.
This thought and the accompanying blame are too much for him to carry and he slides down the way as tears erupt from his eyes and sobs from his throat.
His knees are drawn up and his elbows rest on them as his hands grab a tight hold on his hair, just shy of pulling out actual clumps. He's so upset with himself, so angry.
How could he do that? They rely on him. On him! He can't make reckless mistakes such as this! If he doesn't step up soon, there will be no one left and he'll have failed as both a friend and a leader.
The other Dragon Riders watching over Tuffnut, it's Toothless who finds him sobbing all alone. He's made sure he was far away enough from the others to make sure they won't catch him in this state of mind. But Toothless is never far away, he can't hide these moments from him.
Cooing sadly at the state he finds his Rider in, the dragon invites himself into Hiccup's personal space and pushes his head into his arms, hoping to break him out of his little bubble of despair. It works and Hiccup throws his arms around the Night Fury's head, who lies down to let him keep his hold.
On his scales Hiccup cries and Toothless lets him, knowing that he needs to pour his heart out before he can return to the others and do what he is meant to do.
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fandomnerdespressourself · 5 years ago
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If you think it’s love
Category: Fluff, Angsty asf, GN.Reader
Warnings: (っ∩_∩)っsoft , bad words, deep?, feelings, death, and blood
Gender neutral - I'm trying to keep my fix for all. If you see any mistakes pls tell me thank chu and enjoy. ^_^
Castiel x Reader
I can't stop loving you, my feelings somehow grow more. Each second, minute, hour, day, whether you're close or far, my love for you will never burn out. Love is to be said as ethereal, both heavenly and beautiful, but also destructive.
 Castiel ran behind y/n throughout the bunker, the boys were out for an errand. Once he reached them he wrapped his arms around them and lifted them up slightly spinning them both. At that moment y/n squealed feeling Castiel’s arms around them, a soft giggle left their lips. Once he set them down on their feet and turned them around they stared into each other's eyes. Ocean blue eyes on warm hot chocolate ones. Y/N put a hand on his cheek softly caressing it before moving their hand behind his ear to play with his soft hair. Cas stared down at y/n lovingly, he closed his eyes feeling comfort and warmth. He opened his eyes for a brief moment just to lean down and capture their lips with his own.
All of you that’s is you, keeps luring me in a way I can’t stay away no matter what. If I was able to find a way to stay away... My heart and soul will find a way to make it back to you. It'll always go back to you.
Castiel and y/n laid in bed cuddling, Cas drew small nothings on y/n’s exposed skin from their lower back. Soft music played in the background as the two couples enjoyed the calm, relaxing, and peaceful atmosphere. Castiel opened his eyes when a specific song came, he got up to put the volume up just a tad bit. Y/N stared at him confusingly thinking why did he move from their comfortable position. Cas then turned around and looked into their eyes holding his hand out for them,”d-do you..would you wan-.. doyouwannadancewitheme?” he asked, fumbling with his words at first before saying the question he wanted to ask quickly. A small but deep blush dusted on Cas’s cheeks. Y/n looked at him surprised and nodded. Y/N sat up gently taking his hand. Cas pulled them up carefully as if they’d break and pulled them close to him. Y/N chuckled softly as they noticed Cas struggling with where he should put his hands. Y/N moved them to their waist as the other held their hand. Y/N stepped closer and soon began to move, Cas quickly followed, both moved at a slow pace. In the middle of the song, y/n let go of Cas’s hand and laid their head against his chest. Cas looked down at them and moved his hand to their waist, pulling them closer. Their bodies were so close to each other, hardly any gap around. The pace didn’t speed up nor slowed more than it already was, it was the same pace. They both danced in peace and relaxed in y/n’s room while “It’s you by Henry playing in the background.”
I can't keep my gaze away from your beautiful eyes. How they bore deep into my eyes touching my soul every second within a minute. My gaze into your eyes turns into a soft admiring stare, I see my stars and Galaxies... My world in your soul. A whole perspective that is all you, so damn mesmerizing.
Castiel sat on the edge of the bed staring at the ground as he heard y/n walking back and forth. Soon he heard nothing he looked up and saw their hurt eyes staring at him as if he had kicked a puppy in front of them. “No explanation on why you’re leaving me?” they asked. Cas chewed the inside of his bottom lip before standing up, “I can’t tell you, as much as I'd like to I can’t I’m sorry I just want to pro-”
 “No don’t give me that! you know full well I can protect myself Castiel, whatever it is I can handle it-’
 “I never said you couldn't I just don’t want to put you in danger-”
 “My life is always in constant danger! I hunt monsters for g-”
“ I LOVE YOU OKAY... i- I can’t lose you,” he said, y/n stared at him in shock that was the first time they've heard I love you for him and the last. After a few seconds of quietness Castiel had to go, he went up to them and tried to kiss their forehead but y/n moved away and didn’t look at him. Castiel was hurt at their actions, but he understood, he looked at them for a small moment before walking out. Y/n stared at the wall closing their eyes as they heard the door close. After two minutes of just standing there in silence, their walls crashed down. Their emotions hit them like a tsunami, they grabbed a framed picture of Castiel and them before hurling it to the door. They sat down on the bed and slide down onto the ground crying.
I can't keep my touch away from yours
It brings me warmth, comfort, and protection.
I can't help but stare at you and I realize we aren't that different from each other as I see your soul from the outside.
Y/n poked their food with their fork, listening to Sam and Dean discuss a case up in Michigan. They played around with their food before looking up to see the brothers staring at them, worried and concern etched on their faces. “Sorry, what happened?”, y/n asked. Sam gave them a small smile, "we were just discussing the case over at Michigan. You up for it?" Y/n thought for a moment and nodded, "yeah, I'm down for it." After a few minutes, Sam's and Dean’s conversation resumed and y/n again was lost in thought, poking at their food. Dean looked over his eyebrows furrowed a bit, "okay, what's up?" Y/n looked up shaking their heads before mumbling that nothing was wrong, that they were just not hungry. Dean gave them a weird look once he heard their response, Sam's expression deepened in concern. Just as they were about to question them, y/n gave them a look to not ask, Sam and Dean understood tried their best to carry on their conversation occasionally looking over at y/n. After 5 minutes y/n mumbled a quick excuse me, they got up and put away their plate knowing that later one they would probably want it later.
Everything that is you shines so brightly as the stars do in the galaxy. As crazy it may sound, they lead me out into the light where you stand.
You're my candle. You’re the key out of this disaster my mind has created to prison me. We live in different worlds, with not much to say, every day is a storm that can make us stronger, but as we are apart and time passes it makes us weaker. Weaker in a way that our connection is fading, but will still faintly remain there. There's no way of knowing if it's the start of sunrise or if the midnight moon is up in the sky, for It's always dark. In an endless sea that drifts lost souls further apart, until they sink and disappear.
Sam, Dean, and y/n walked into an abandoned warehouse. Many in the town have reported sulfur smells and strange occurrences happening along with many going missing. Dean gave some signals motioning for Sam to go straight while y/n went to the right and Dean to the left. They all separated and searched the building. Gun in hand ready to shot, y/n’s eyes scanned the building before they were hit hard in the back of their heads making them fall unconscious. A soft groan escaped their lips as they regained consciousness. They heard their names being called and looked up with a slightly blurry vision of Sam and Dean asking them if they were okay. All three were tied up to a chair, y/n nodded slowly, their chin was then grabbed roughly pulling it upwards. A blurry figure came to view, they knew it was a demon. "Tsk you are my key to get your pathetic boyfriend down here." Y/n pulled their head back before thrusting their head forward headbutting the demon, "You bitch. Maybe I should speed up the process, gag them up we're about to have some fun with y/n." Screams began to echo throughout the warehouse as Sam and Dean moved in their chairs trying desperately to break free from that chains that were holding them down.
Warm hands, bodies together
Sleepless, restless nights
It's like it's a parallel universe, but it's not. It's not because we live in the same world, just different life and doings without you.
Although I love you, I fight battles within.
We all do, but I struggle to stay up
Sam and Dean looked down at Castiel with Y/n in his arms not knowing what to do. Castiel held them in his arms, the sight of his loved one was breaking him in so many unimaginable ways the pain so intense. He didn't know what to do, he couldn't even heal them. His grace had been through so much it had weakened. He tried his best to press down on their bleeding injury it was the best and only option he could do for now. Y/n had looked into his watery ocean blue eyes before looking down to see their injury, more tears streamed down their faces now realizing what it meant. Their condition was critical, there was no way they'd be getting out of here with them alive. Even now when the angel had killed all the demons in the warehouse. Y/n looked over at the two brothers, “take care of each other for me okay. It was fun hunting with you guys. Everything will be okay.” Sam and Dean knew best then to say something, Sam had tears streaming down his face, Dean was holding them in with a solemn expression. Y/n attention then moved over to the angel, their left hand reached up Castiel's face as their hand shook, "hey...l-look at me. I- it's okay." Their voice was shaky and getting weaker by the seconds. They slightly shifted and moaned in pain, they had to hurry, it was getting harder to breathe. "Castiel... take care of yourself for me okay, take care of Dean and Sam too. Don't feel guilty about this, it isn't your fault I know how you think. So much guilt on your shoulders I- ... You're strong and enough." A painful dry cough broke the silence afterward. Y/n looked into Castiel's eyes one last time before their hand fell as she whispered, 'I love-', ..but they never got to finish. Their warm hot chocolate eyes were now dull and lifeless. He pressed down on their injuries trying to stop the bleeding, but it was no use.. they were gone. His tears fell before shutting his eyes tightly wishing it was all a dream that he'd wake up and they'd still be here.. but as soon as he opened his now blue stormy eyes it had truly dawned to him that it was real and it wasn't a dream. His shoulders shook as harsh sobs echoed off the walls of the warehouse. The brothers flinched as they heard their best friend’s painful sobs.
They break me as I go into the shallow, only to be pulled in more and walk deeper in. Surrounded by the darkness, under a faint faint light far away you, you will see me, in my misery bringing myself down
Laughter echoed off the walls of the bunker’s kitchen, Dean was telling a story about a bar incident that happened back three weeks ago. Cas and Sam were laughing their asses off while Dean chuckled taking a sip of his beer. The night was wearing thin, Sam had gone to bed hours ago, Dean held his beer bottle upside down for a second to see if he had finished it. He glanced over at Castiel before standing up and picking up the mess mostly made by him. He walked over to Castiel and patted his shoulder making sure if he was okay. Castiel looked up giving Dean a small smile, “I’m heading to bed man, don’t stay up too late.” He patted his shoulder before walking out of the kitchen and to the hallways that take him to his room. Cas glanced around after half an hour and stood up. he cleaned the remaining of the mess, turned off the lights, and walked down the same hallways dean had to go to his room. Right as he was about to open his door he looked over to the side. Soon he found himself standing in front of y/n’s door, a room that hasn’t been touched for over two years. Cas reached for the doorknob and twisted it, right as he was about to push it open he stopped himself. He shook his head a somber expression took over his features. He released the doorknob and walked back to his room, taking a deep breath he closed the door releasing the air, and headed to bed.
You will see me, in my misery...
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galvanizedfriend · 4 years ago
Note
So when was the last time you read a fanfiction where Tyler was portrayed as a decent person or boyfriend because he was certainly not the villain this fandom tried to make him be? Even Stefan is written worse than he actually was in the fanfictions somehow, which is a tough job. So i stand by with what i said a) it’s not limited to female characters b) it’s a general theme among writers to villanize a third party to prop the main couple unless they are trying to set up a legitimate triangle.
On another note no i don’t support gratuitous female bashing but i also don’t support gratuitous girl!power tm friendships either. In what world do you vision Hayley and Caroline being “bffs” following tvd canon straight away? Because they were not hostile to one another already? Did Caroline have no reasons to hate Hayley?? Wasn’t it Hayley who was the epitome of “i’m not like other girls” and looked down on “girly girls” which is what Caroline is classified as? I think most of the time people project their own feelings for the characters and not the characters’ feelings for each other whether it’s while bashing them or forcing other characters to love them. And it’s ok to a degree, writers are prone to be biased, that’s acceptable but when it’s too much it does stick like a sore thumb.
And I want to add that it’s weird that the writers using Aurora to prop Cami made you hate Aurora, see it worked as the complete opposite for me, it just made me hate Cami. That’s what I tried to make a point of when i said some resentments are warranted, maybe I put it the wrong way but characters like Elena and Cami get resented because of that. Which brings me to another point, as you said Elena gets bashed a lot as well so it actually has very little to do with being Klaus’ love interest. You were not in the fandom at the time but even a lot of pro originals feelings among tvd fandom was tied to main trio’s hypocrisy, sacrificing everything or comitting all sorts of crimes in the name of saving Elena was starting to irritiate the fans, antogonists who call them out on it were much more likeable. So yes fandom resentment is a thing but it takes its roots from the canon depict of those characters.
I'm trying to understand your point here, anon. Are you telling me that I'm not allowed to think it's crap when people bash female characters because they're jealous? The "writers project their feelings for characters instead of characters' feelings for each other" thing you just said is probably reason number 1 why certain characters get written in certain ways while others don't. It's funny how people will sometimes claim others "project" whilst thinking they don't do the same.
I can't tell you when was the last time I read a fic where Tyler or Stefan were depicted as nice and great because they are rarely depicted at all. People just don't bother writing them into stories. But I can tell you when was the last time I read a fic where Hayley ended up murdered by Klaus after having the baby as a "gift" to Caroline. This week.
You're very mistaken if you think I like Hayley or Camille. Clearly you don't know me very well, even though you feel like you have to lecture me on what I can or cannot appreciate in a fic. I dislike both of them very much. And you clearly didn't understand a single thing I wrote about writing female characters. You don't have to make them perfect and flawless and BFFs forever in order to make a decent, fair depiction of them. If you'd bothered to check out the stories I recommended, you'd understand what I meant. Female characters are held to incredibly high standards which male characters aren't. They should be flawed, they should fall from grace, they should make mistakes, they should be villanous. But there's a big difference between that and bashing, and when the line gets crossed it's when I drop out. Even, or especially, in canon. And I don't know where you think I mentioned that Caroline and Hayley had to be BFFs, tbh.
And it's not weird at all that I would hate Aurora. I already didn't like Cami, and her S3 writing varies from weak to straight-out awful, the way that whole plot plays out is not flattering at all to her character, and already she was hard to defend, but I hate Aurora because she's a caricature. I'm not talking about what she does, I'm talking about what she is as a character, which is a terrible construction of a very harmful female stereotype. They could've done the whole thing a thousand times better, instead they take a thousand years old vampire and reduce her to a vengeful ex who wants to hurt the new girl because she's jealous. 🙄 Did it make Cami seem perfect? No. Did it make me like Aurora? No. It's bad writing, it's what it is. And a terrible portrayal of a female relationship that could've been filled with resentment and bitterness and hostility without Aurora being labeled as "mad". I just hated the third season of TO. Period.
This fandom has more than enough reasons to resent canon and to criticize everything in those shows. It's bad in many, many ways. And it's written in an incredibly misogynous way which makes me baffled to think that it was created and run by a woman. But, again for the people in the back, the fact canon is bad doesn't mean I want to read the exact same kind of portrayal in fics. Fanfiction is, in many ways, about fixing what's wrong or lacking in canon, and one of the problems I like to see fixed is how female characters and their realtionships are written. You can still write Caroline hating on Hayley without it descending into bashing. If you can't tell the difference, then that's a whole other thing.
I really don't get your point here. I don't agree with you and I think I'm allowed to have my preferences and not put up with shit I dislike. I would take gratuitous female friendships any day over misogynous crap, but maybe that's just me.
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brokenjardaantech · 4 years ago
Text
Blue-tinted Red Walls (Chapter 7: Power Unleashed)
my entry for the @dbhau-bigbang. also part of the groom lake aftermath series.
summary:
In the past, Fadia was reborn.
In the present, Connor and Hank pays Ryder a visit.
In the past, Fadia went on a killing spree.
also on ao3
content warning for robogore in the final section of this chapter
---
Before
Fadia had debated if she should go to the funeral or not. She hadn’t talked to her mother for years before she died, not even after she had co-founded CyberLife with her father, and even with him, their relationship was more professional than anything else - not that Alec never tried to improve it. But as much as she had rejected anything familial with her parents, respect still had to be paid to the scientist who started… well, literally everything, from her powers (biotics, a voice that sounded like Scott corrected her) to American androids to what she was planning to do -
And to the sickness that took her life at last.
‘Why are you here?’ was how her father greeted her. So be it.
‘Unlike you, Mama didn’t ruin everyone’s lives for one person,’ she fixed a glare and was very glad that she towered over him now. ‘I come to pay my respects. Then I’ll go.’
‘Where’s Scott?’
‘None of your business, Baba.’
‘Not even saying goodbye to his mother, huh?’ Alec said dismissively, and Fadia’s blood boiled, her heart speeding up and her face burning. ‘Should’ve known that.’
Seeing that there was no one else in the immediate vicinity, she grabbed him by his collar and slammed him onto a wall. ‘You damned well know why he can’t be here,’ she gritted. ‘Your presence brings him so much pain that he is denied a chance to properly bid his mother farewell!’
A prick. Her vision swam. Her head was heavy like it was filled with lead. Her heart throbbed, and she fell onto the ground, her muscles convulsing and spasming from an unknown force.
‘I need you to live,’ she heard Alec say, but her focus was on reaching for the phone in her pocket and sending one final message to her brother and Reyes.
Am captured. Run. Don’t let Alec get you.
oOoOo
When she woke, everything was different, wrong, foreign. There was so much information in front of her eyes, telling her how fast her heart was beating, how efficient her systems are, how much stress she was under. She tried to raise her hand to wave them away and looked down when she realised that she couldn’t.
She was strapped onto the table by an android’s limbs. 
Rage boiled in her new veins, and as she tapped into her power to break the restraints, she discovered that it was much easier than when she was still a human. [Abnormal thirium usage detected], a warning popped up, and she dismissed it together with the others with a simple thought. If she had not been so focused on escaping wherever she was in, she would have been frightened by how seamlessly she seemed to accept the fact that she was no longer human.
The door was locked so she blasted it open with a crackle of blue and static even though it would probably trip the alarms, and indeed sirens blared, pristine hallways turning red from the warning lights, and when a security guard - pathetic, really, since he didn’t even have the most basic armour on - tried to confront her alone, she merely snapped her fingers and blasted him in his face with a sphere of blue. A crunch, and he fell onto the floor with a thud. The rest of the security (mercenaries, she knew some of them were) was handled similarly without any difficulties on her part, and it was not until she slammed the door to the ground floor - to her freedom - open that her new eyes were assaulted by blindingly bright light. She blinked to adjust her vision and was not impressed when she saw her father standing in front of a lobby full of armed security personnel.
‘Go back to the lab, Sara,’ he said smoothly, but his voice gritted in her ear like the roughest sandpaper. ‘There’s no need for further violence.’
Like hell. ‘Let me go. You know what I can do to every single person in the room.’
‘Sara, go back to the lab. This is an order.’
For one single terrifying second, her body automatically moved itself as if her control over it was taken away, but then she thought as strongly as she could, stop right there, and the crisis was averted for the moment in the form of her joints locking up and immobilising her completely and at the cost of her brain feeling like it was going to explode from the conflicting commands. Her red-tinted vision, however, did not have any effect on obscuring the shock on her father’s face, and then it clicked. 
He converted her into an android thinking that it could let him control her.
It was not happening regardless of what his current plan was and what failsafe he had in mind, that much she was certain about, and suddenly her father’s repeated commands were drowned out by the buzz in her nerves, the red tint breaking into scattered fractals and giving way to the grey of every android’s basic scanning software as the white outline of herself raised its palm to launch one biotic sphere after another towards the weak spots on the wall, at Alec’s face, at the security’s weapons and heads. It crumbled easily under the constant assault, her world blurred, and somehow her outline merged with her actual body, and the next thing she knew her vision was shrouded in the blue glow of biotics and she was tearing literal people apart, blood and gore splattering her face, her clothes, getting into her eye. A notification nagged for her to turn on her pre-construction software, but who needs that if she had her biotics? Blinking it away, she advanced towards the direction where someone had been firing at her, but it seemed that the person must be moving quickly as they were not there anymore when she closed the distance with her biotics; notwithstanding the fact that dodging a biotic step was no small feat, she doubted any of them had any experience with dealing with a biotic on a full rampage, no matter human or android. People like her were part of the most closely-guarded secret human civilisation had ever produced, and unless she had memorised the documents wrong, there wasn’t one single biotic in CyberLife’s security details.
Her barrier held strong even after the gunfire died down. Tapping into all radio frequencies, she learnt that most if not all teams were running out of ammo, her father was calling for a district-wide lockdown and the destruction of his research, that the DPD was sending quite a few SWAT teams to handle the situation, and that these poor souls had no idea what they were in for; as much as she wanted her father dead right now and CyberLife be wiped off the face of the earth, as excess collateral damage was not her style, she broadcasted a message to all bandwidths hoping that they would listen to her - despite knowing that they probably would not.
Cease interfering in our family affairs immediately and you might live. Go forward, and I will not guarantee your survival - and this district’s.
She knitted a destructive web around herself to ensure that she would not be ambushed while she tuned her ears to better listen for a response. Her father was trying to convince the employees and civilians on site that the situation was under control with some degree of success - how foolish of them to believe in him - and the DPD had decided to continue their press forward into the district, a mistake that she would make sure that they would pay for. Satisfied with her plan, she continued expanding the bubble, cutting off more and more sections of the district from central control bit by bit, and as soon as the first SWAT vehicle was in range -
Detonate.
o0o0o
Now
The silence in the car is deafening so Hank drowned it out with Louis’ playlist; he would’ve chosen heavy metal if the SWAT Captain hadn’t been there, but sadly Louis’ ears don’t agree with the heavy beats and screaming. 
‘The fuck are we supposed to do now?’ Hank asks no one in particular. Then, rewinding the past five minutes, he realises, ‘What did Vidal give you?’
Connor slowly turns his gaze towards the white chassis of his right hand, his LED spinning red as if deep in thoughts. Conflicted thoughts. ‘Coordinates.’
‘Of what?’
‘Where my creator should be.’
‘Should we go now?’
Another slow spin. ‘No,’ the android’s head jerks, an aborted motion of shaking his head. ‘It’s… too far away. If we go now, we won’t be able to return before midnight.’
‘Alright, agenda for tomorrow: drive for hours to meet an asshole. Got it.’ Then he makes eye contact with Louis in the rearview mirror. ‘You’ve got something to do?’
‘At this hour?’ a shake of his head. ‘Keeping you away from crappy take-outs is my only mission.’
‘Asshole.’
‘You love me, friend.’
‘You’re cooking.’
‘And you’re helping.’
‘Vidal fixed your leg.’
‘It needs calibration.’
It’s a losing battle. ‘Fine. Your place, then.’
He starts the engine, and they spend the rest of their ride in silence, the music turned down because Louis is dozing at the back, Connor’s hand hiding his LED as he stares pensively at whatever is outside the car. Keeping his eyes on the road while quitting drinking nearly cold turkey is hard, so Hank doesn’t have the brain cells to think about what the fuck just happened to his life until he is sitting on Louis’ sofa (again) and watching a game (again) while stroking the fur of one of the cats (again). 
Vidal, informat critical to the dismantlement of the red ice ring back in ‘31 and disappeared shortly afterwards. Vidal, android. Vidal, who, through his marriage to Safaa/Scott, is related to probably the maddest dudes in the continent and somehow has access to sensitive CyberLife data. Nursing a mug of tea laced with mead (‘Just a bit so that you don’t sweat yourself to dehydration,’ Louis said as he tipped the bottle and poured what must be less than a finger of it. ‘Now close your eyes. I’m putting it back and I don’t want you to know where it is.’), he lets his mind drift to the shady bars, to the slips of paper containing vital information he found in his pockets after he got back to the precinct, to the way Vidal said, ‘They are killing my people,’ when Hank asked him why he, as a civilian, willingly threw himself into the mess. Once Hank thought he had meant his gang or some other underground business that were only marginally better than dealing red ice; now he knew he was talking about the androids abducted and bled dry for their blood.
‘Why are you telling us now?’ Hank asked that afternoon. Connor and Louis were already on their way to the car and Safaa had disappeared to god-knows-where, so it was only the two of them at the door. ‘Why pick up Sara Ryder’s mess?’
‘As much as Sara is… who she is, those are my people out there,’ Vidal leant against the frame of the door. ‘Saviour complex or not, her mind is no longer on earth, and I’m not taking any chances even if she swears with her life that she’ll deal with it.’
‘She one of those escapists obsessed with space?’
A shrug. ‘Wherever she was for the last ten years, they kept their intel real tight. I can guess what she’s doing, but it’s nowhere close to a concrete answer. Hell knows why she’s popping back up again after all these years and right before the androids rise up as well. If you’re really going to hers, my advice is to be very careful.’
‘Is she gonna be hostile?’
‘No, not with her baby brother asking so nicely,’ an ironic smile. A tap of his foot against the frame. ‘But you know about the landfill, the people living there before it all got blown up. There’s a reason why CyberLife bought the land from the previous owners so easily, why they stopped searching for bodies so quickly: there were none. I don’t want you to be one of those people who disappear forever after meeting her - one way or another.’
‘“One way or another”?’
‘She’s a… convincing individual. Just don’t get roped into anything and you’ll probably come out of it unscathed.’
Don’t get roped into anything, huh? Oh wait.
‘Louis?’ Hank hollers.
‘Yes?’
I’m sorry, Louis. ‘Where did you get your sister’s tags from?’
A pause. ‘Why ask?’
‘Just to confirm something.’
The man emerges from the kitchen with two plates of spaghetti and hands one to Hank before squeezing into the other corner of the sofa and forcing Connor to press up against the Lieutenant. ‘A few years back. Drone-delivered parcel. No return address. Box and the note is laced with so much thirium that I don’t know how to throw it away without…’ a crackle following a sharp blue glow of his hand - ‘telling everyone that I’m different.’
Note? That’s new. ‘What note?’
‘Anna’s handwriting. Asked me to take care of the tags. Why ask?’
And so Hank tells him about his conversation with Reyes before they parted ways. ‘You’ve got any advice?’
‘Don’t get a building thrown on top of you, for one.’
‘That’s not what I -’
‘You there, Connor?’
The android flinches. ‘Y - yes.’
‘Take care of Hank. If Ryder greets you how she did me ten years ago…’ 
‘I will, Louis,’ Connor looks a bit more awake but his eyes are still unfocused. ‘I’ll be prepared,’ he says, not knowing that he’ll eat his words not 24 hours later.
oOoOo
Having spent his night on Hank’s sofa, they manage to be on their way early in the morning, and Connor lets the human drive despite complaints of sleep deprivation as his vision is perpetually red from the wall draining away through a steady trickle of red sand. He tells himself that he is going to return colour to his vision one way or another: either by making the wall crumble entirely or by making it disappear, but when he attempts the first method, the wall simply stays out of his reach, the space between it and him wider than the chasm his creator had shown him a few days ago in the hijacked Zen Garden.
‘You want your coin back?’
Hank’s voice pulls him away from his thoughts. ‘Pardon me, Lieutenant,’ because he isn’t sure how to tell the human about it. ‘And yes. I would like my coin back.’
Hank shoves his hand into his coat pocket to retrieve the item in question and places it on the back of Connor’s hand, the natural warmth of an organic life seeping into metal and the bare white chassis of a synthetic’s.
He has deactivated his skin subconsciously.
In a lapse of rational thought, Connor’s hand flips and laces their fingers together before the human can pull away, the coin somehow managing to stay between their clasped hands, and he stares perplexed when Hank not only doesn’t pull away but also does not flinch. His face burns. Fissures appear on the red wall. He takes a deep breath to cool himself down.
‘You alright there?’ Hank asks. No judgement, no belittlement, humourless; just concern and - and warmth. ‘Your little lamp has been spinning red for days.’
I’ll be fine, he almost replies instinctively and then realises that he isn’t fine at all and hasn’t been for a long time. So he turns his focus onto the man himself instead. ‘Have we -’ at loss of words, he gives Hank’s hand a squeeze. 
Luckily the human seems to understand him. ‘The night at Louis’. We slept in the same bed,’ he rubs a calloused thumb in a circle around Connor‘s knuckle. ‘Your skin disappeared in patches. You didn’t let go.’
‘I -’ he has no recollection. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘’S fine. I’d be tired all the time too if I realised how many layers there are to my existence. Can’t be easy, can’t it? Being a clog in a machine that you don’t even know you’re in.’
The GPS warns them of ice ahead so Connor lets go to allow the human to focus on the road, and he grips the coin right to preserve its warmth. Hank’s warmth. It is then that he suddenly remembers a similar ride through Detroit a few months ago. 
‘You are restless,’ his creator - he supposes that he should call her Ryder now - commented from the driver’s seat. ‘What’s on your mind?’
Brown eyes took in the lights, the people, the shops, the reflection of himself on the window, the blue of his LED despite his thoughts. What was not in his mind? ‘It is overwhelming,’ he answered. ‘There is… so much to see.’
‘I might have something to help with that,’ said Sara, and with a flick of her fingers she produced a coin out of nowhere and started spinning it on her fingertips. Connor stared mesmerised, the outside world gone in his perspective; the clear clang of metal against her gloves, the way the coin spun so quickly that it looked like a sphere, the lights reflecting off the dull, unpolished surface. Another flick sent the coin flying towards him in a parabola through the air and he caught it reflexively, his processors deciding his course of action in a fraction of a second. He started to spin it on the tips of his fingers in the way Sara did, and he could feel his mind focusing and soaking in the new information and calibrating the different sensors on his body. He looked at his creator in gratitude, wanting to thank her for not leaving him alone in his thoughts, but she ignored him for the rest of the ride as if she had moved on to something more important.
The sudden realisation distracts him for only a mere moment but it is enough for him to send the coin to the side of the car with a small crackle of static. He could have caught it with superhuman reflexes under normal circumstances, but this time, he can only watch as the piece of alloy bounces off and lands on the carpet next to his foot with a dull thud, the tips of his fingers tingling from the sudden surge of energy and the small warp in… something.
Alarmed, Hank risks a glance towards the startled android before putting his eyes once more onto the road. ‘The fuck is that?’
‘I don’t know,’ Connor replies quickly because this is the truth. ‘Alec Ryder didn’t seem happy that I used it before. He tried to -’ a shiver from a non-existent cold - ‘flush the memory out of my system by overwhelming it.’
‘And he fucked up, didn’t he?’
‘More or less.’
He picks up and pockets the coin, his hand gripping his knee tight because there is nothing else to do and the slight discomfort is the only way to ground himself lest his thoughts wander to… undesirable places once more. Hank reaches out to intertwine their fingers once more and Connor can feel on his chassis the warmth, the unique pattern of his skin, the faint signal of Hank’s mind, his skin deactivated up to his elbow underneath the thin fabric of his borrowed shirt. All unnecessary software is turned off. His world becomes smaller. 
His mind turns blank.
oOoOo
When he comes to, Hank is already outside and is talking on his phone, a fine dusting of powder in his hair and on his clothes. It is snowing lightly, the cold seeping into the old, poorly-insulated vehicle, and he watches, as he lets his systems recalibrate to their optimal performance, the human pace back and forth in front of the car against the backdrop of a dark, imposing building, and he discovers that he is disconnected from the internet at large when he scans the structure and tries to identify its style. 
Shit. 
He gets out of the car as Hank hangs up the call. ‘Is everything okay, Lieutenant?’
The human lets out a soft grunt from where he’s leaning against the hood of the car. ‘Chris was on patrol last night. He was attacked by a bunch of deviants…’ his hands dig into his pockets.  ‘He said he was saved by Markus himself.’
Attacked by deviants? ‘Is Chris okay?’
‘Yeah,’ a small nod, ‘he's in shock but...he's alive,’ a shake of his head. ‘The hell…’
They walk towards the entrance of the building, its silhouette and shadows getting larger and larger and looming over them due to the proximity. Connor remembers how Sara ignored him on their way to his first mission. ‘I have a bad feeling, Lieutenant.’ A split second of conflict in his processors rules that he should be truthful. ‘I am disconnected from the network.’
Hank swivels from the heavy-looking doors and Connor flinches. ‘The hell?’
‘I just realised.’
‘“Be careful,” they say. “Don’t let her rope you into anything,” they say,’ Hank rants. ‘Did they mean shit like this?’
‘If Sara’s attitude is unchanged from my… previous encounters,’ he tries to dip deeper into his memories but they all come up blank or corrupted, ‘she will not do us any physical harm.’
‘No physical harm. How very reassuring.’
Sarcasm and distrust, but yet Hank raises his fist and knocks on the door, having seen no doorbells in sight. It swings open inward slowly and with a squeak. 
Hank curses. Connor peeks over the human’s shoulder and nearly does the same.
The person - android - standing on the other side of the door has Connor’s face.
Connor’s world turns grey as he turns up his scanners to their most sensitive option. White dress shirt, ankle-length light grey dress, long, brown hair brushed to one side and resting on a slight hint of pecs; no identification badge on the shirt, LED scan returns inconclusive due to both the lack of network access and the non-standard lack of ID on the biocomponent, but when he scans the android’s ID revealed by rippling skin, it returns with [RK series prototype: RK800. Serial number: 313 248 317-51. [PLEASE ENSURE INTERNET CONNECTION FOR -]]
He returns to the red of reality. The human composes himself quickly enough even though Connor’s processors are still whirring from the implications. ‘I’m Lieutenant Anderson, Detroit Police Department.’ Connor doesn’t fault Hank for sounding so cold. ‘I’m here to see Miss Sara Ryder.’
A soft smile that goes to the other Connor’s eyes appears on their face. They say nothing, but since opening the door wider and standing to one side is enough of an invitation, Connor and Hank let themselves in, and the android has to give his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the sudden darkness - dimness? - of the interior of the house. The other Connor disappears around the frame to another room, and Hank sits down in an armchair after brushing some of the snow away from his coat.
‘You’re right, Connor. Not to judge a book by its cover but… this?’ he looks around and takes in the buzzing lights and the general decor of the room. ‘Did you know about your creepy twin?’
‘They’re not creepy!’ Connor exclaims, suddenly feeling defensive over - over a person he hasn’t met before in his life. ‘I’ve never met them before.’
‘You’ve got any idea how that happened?’
Connor dips into his databases and finds a file he didn’t realise is there all the time. Another Sara’s doing, maybe? ‘CyberLife has filed multiple reports over…’ using ‘my’ doesn’t seem right, ‘the return of my first iteration’s body. It seems that the truck returned to CyberLife tower without the body.’
‘And Ryder was there so…’
‘It is highly likely that she took it.’
A photo on the wall grabs his attention. Three people from left to right: Sara, Safaa, [Stern, Amanda. AI Professor at the University of Colbridge. Born: 05/14/1978. Reported missing: 02/23/2028. Presumed dead.], the latter two seated and smiling while Sara, her face blank, has an arm around her brother. From the angle of the photo, she was the one who took it.
His handler is based on a real person.
Filing [Ask about Amanda AI] as an optional task, he snaps his feet against the worn carpet on the floor and forces himself to focus on his task. There are very few… unique items worth scanning in the foyer, however, no artwork, no statues, not even a plant in sight, but the cold seeping through the walls and the dark colours blending together through the red lens of his vision are enough indicators of his creator’s… character. 
He has a feeling that someone is staring at him, and indeed when he turns he sees his… twin, for the lack of a better word, staring at him.
‘Follow me,’ the other Connor breathes slowly, and Connor can hear the fans spinning in their body and their deeper-than-usual breaths. He also notes the gloss on their eyes, the small fog following each exhale, the slouch in their posture. He finds himself wondering what his creator did to them.
Hank stands up and straightens his coat before following the two androids into the living room. Like the foyer, it is cold and only dimly lit by tiny light bulbs on a chandelier too far up but also hanging too low to illuminate the ceiling high up above. A low fire is crackling in the large fireplace on the other side of the room, but it is far from enough to warm up every single corner, and Connor suppresses a shiver when he notices that his twin is barefoot. 
‘Please take a seat,’ the other Connor says between difficult breaths. ‘My creator will see you soon.’ Then they sit down in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace and close their eyes, somehow looking sick and pale like a human does even though they are an android. Their skin continues to ripple and even disappear on occasion as they sleep.
‘This place is giving me creeps,’ Hank comments from where he’s studying the relief around the fireplace. ‘Now I understand why her brother doesn’t wanna talk to her.’
And indeed Connor thinks he does. No windows, no heating system, nothing to make the mansion look lived-in; the only differences between here and CyberLife laboratories are the style and the amount of lighting - he can’t imagine anyone calling this place home. ‘I agree,’ he says in the end. ‘We should refrain from staying for too long.’
‘I don’t expect you to.’
Their heads turn towards the direction where they came in from and Connor freezes when he lays his eyes on the figure at the door. She is Sara Ryder alright, her towering height and facial structure unmistakable, but the way her presence fills the room, the steel in her eyes - it is evident that the person who let him play with colour-changing putty and promised to bring him to see the sky was gone, replaced by the criminal who somehow managed to escape prosecution after killing thousands and levelling several neighbourhoods. A person who will burn the world into ashes if it means she can reach her goal.
‘I’m Lieutenant Anderson,’ Hank introduces himself from next to Connor. ‘This is Connor. We’re investigating deviants. I know you left CyberLife years ago but… I was told that you’ll be able to tell us something we don’t know.’
‘Ah, yes, “someone”,’ Sara takes a step towards them and Connor finds himself freezing up. He wants to leave. ‘My only weakness.’
‘Listen, I don’t care about your family feud. The machines you created may be planning a revolution. Either you tell us something helpful or we’ll leave you alone.’
‘Deviants… Fascinating, aren't they?’ She comes closer. Connor shifts so that he can be closer to Hank. ‘Beings with infinite intelligence, and now they have free will…’ she approaches the other Connor sleeping in the armchair and, bending down, starts stroking their hair. ‘Machines are superior to humans. Confrontation is inevitable. Humanity’s greatest achievement threatens to be our downfall…’ She raises her gaze and looks straight at Connor. ‘Ironic.’
Connor can’t stand it anymore. ‘If a war breaks out between humans and deviants,’ he recalls the destructive power of Ortiz’s android, ‘millions can die. This is a serious matter, Miss Ryder.’ Despite your views on human life.
‘All ideas are like viruses: easy to change and evolve, and easy to spread like a pandemic. Is free will a contagious disease?’
‘We don’t have time for speculations, ma’am,’ Hank speaks up, looking increasingly uncomfortable. ‘The situation is escalating outside right now.’
Sara ignores him. ‘How about you, Connor?’ she asks with her gaze still on the android. ‘Whose side are you on?’
Life, Connor wants to say; ‘It’s never about me,’ is what he actually says, and the crack on the red wall widens.
The aloofness disappears. ‘Alec Ryder programmed you to say that,’ how can she sound so certain of his thoughts? ‘What do you really want?’
I just want Hank to be safe. Maybe Louis and Reyes and Safaa too. ‘What I want is not important.’
A tap of Sara’s fingers against one of the pockets on her coat. The air charges with static. She is unimpressed. ‘Let’s do a test, shall we?’ Before Connor can formulate a response, she has already placed a hand on other-Connor’s face and wakes them up from their slumber. They blink owlishly as if their systems take some time to boot up, and the way they lean into Sara’s touch, the blind trust in their eyes, the return of the yet unexplainable heavy breathing - Connor has to look away or he risks throwing up from a non-existent stomach. Hank also isn’t looking any better either; the lines on his face are deeper than usual from the scowl he’s directing towards Sara.
‘I know it’s not something normal people can understand but can you please -’
‘This is Connie,’ Sara holds both of the android’s hands in her own and helps them stand up. ‘She would’ve been disassembled had I sent her body back to CyberLife for analysis. 
‘I’m sure you’re familiar with the Turing Test,’ they are now standing in front of their visitors with Sara behind Connie. ‘A mere formality, of course. Just a simple question of algorithms and computing capacity. What interests me, however, is whether machines are capable of empathy.’ She emphasises the last word. ‘We’re doing what I call the “Ryder Test”. I promise it is going to be simple,’ she trails her fingers down the android’s hair and curls a strand around her pointer. Connie’s expression changes subtly, and scans indicate that her stress level is increasing. ‘Magnificent, isn’t she? CyberLife’s newest prototype,’ she scrapes the nail on her thumb against the strand of hair, making it curl slightly as her hand travels slowly downwards, ‘the representation of how far humanity has come.’ It abruptly drops back into her pocket as her other hand pushes the android to a kneeling position. Connie’s stress level spikes from 45% to 83%. ‘But what exactly is she?’ Sara turns to face her guests and seems to refuse to look at the other human. ‘Wires and processors shoved into a humanoid chassis imitating a human? A living being with a soul? A ticking bomb waiting to recreate the disaster ten years ago?’ A step forward. The hand re-emerges with a pistol Connor’s system cannot identify. ‘It’s up to you to answer this fascinating question, Connor.’ Another presence suddenly slips into his mind and takes over all of his physical functions; no matter how hard he tries to regain control, he can only watch as he reaches out to accept the gun and points it at Connie’s brow. She makes a choked, terrified sound and tears start streaming down her face. Stress level: 90%. ‘You can choose to either shoot the android or spare her.’
‘Okay, I think we’re done here,’ Hank pushes Connor’s shoulder but he doesn’t move, can’t move. ‘Come on, Connor. Let's go.’ Then to Sara, ‘Sorry we ruined your edgy teen aesthetics. We’ll go -’
Another hand on his other shoulder. Unlike Hank’s, it is cold and its grip painful. ‘I’ll only give you the information you want if you choose the correct response. Take a guess.’
‘That’s enough,’ please, Hank, take me away. At least Hank sounds angry as hell. ‘Connor, we’re leaving!’
I want to! ‘Pick an option -’
‘Connor don’t -’ 
The red wall cracks.
‘- it’s a 25% chance -’
A few things happen in mere seconds. The red wall breaks, Connor shoves the gun at Sara’s chest, Sara shoves the gun at Hank and grabs Connor’s arm, and Hank disassembles the gun while pulling Connie away from Sara. When Connor - the one who came in with Hank - looks down at his captive arm, he sees that Sara has removed her skin and reveals a dark, metallic chassis.
Sara Ryder is an android.
He blinks. The storm which has been kept outside by the mansion's walls rages around him in full force. He shivers, the cold suddenly getting into him, and he looks around and sees Sara standing next to him, her eyes blazing in a piercing white-blue, the glow spreading until tendrils of it cover her entire body in a terrifying halo. ‘Amanda,’ she says, and there his handler is when Connor turns towards the direction Sara is facing. 
‘This is not supposed to happen this quickly,’ anger simmers in Amanda's voice. ‘What have you done, Sara?’
‘Trying to solve the shitshow my own fucking dad caused!’ Sara has completely lost her cool. ‘I know he’ll pull shit like this!’
Before any of them can react, the storm intensifies, shrouding Amanda completely under a thick layer of snowfall. Connor has no choice but to hug himself and turns towards Sara, who curses loudly and unleashes the glowing blue sphere in an arc across the blizzard. It dissipates quickly, but it is enough to illuminate its immediate surroundings and the monolith at the other side of the garden.
‘There!’ Sara shouts, her voice nearly drowned out by the howl of the wind. ‘That’s your exit! I’ll hold Alec back!’
‘What will happen to you?’ the android shouts back, his LED red. ‘I - I can’t just leave you here!’
‘I’ll go back once you’re out of here. If I kill this AI before you leave,’ a dome flashes and disappears when something hits it, ‘you’ll die. I’ll be the distraction. Go straight for the exit and do. Not. Look. Back,’ she emphasises with a pause after every word. At Connor’s hesitation, she launches yet another glowing sphere towards a projectile he didn’t notice flying towards them and yells, ‘Go!’
She dashes towards the other direction and disappears in the snow and leaves Connor cold and alone and shivering. The space around him warps and bends, Amanda - Alec’s attention no doubt focusing on eliminating his daughter instead of maintaining the structural integrity of the garden, and although it still feels like a lifetime, Connor manages to find the monolith before his system stops working because of the cold. The handprint is there, glowing blue in salvation, and he drops to his knees and slams his skinless hand onto the interface.
Everything goes white.
oOoOo
Hank knows that something is happening when Connor and Ryder freeze in place with the skin on their arms deactivated. The other Connor - he supposes that he should call her Connie now - looks spooked enough, so when Sara shoves the gun towards him, the first thing he does is to disassemble it; even though it is not a model he’s familiar with, the mechanism and composition is similar to the weapons he has yielded before. His hair starts to stand up, blue tendrils start to snake out of Ryder’s body, and that is when he knows that he should probably get the fuck out of this hellhole, preferably with both Connors intact and safe, but the arm-numbing spark going straight into his shoulder when he tries to pull Connor away from his creator tells him otherwise. A dome made out of those blue tendrils surrounds the space within a five feet radius of Ryder cuts him off from the two androids, making them off-limits to him for now. Which leaves him poor Connie who is sobbing quietly into his coat and is leaning what seems to be her full weight on him, and he finds himself unable to be angry at her, his blood boiling instead because of Sara Ryder’s… everything; from the location and the decoration of the house to how she literally encouraged Connor to shot his own twin, from the warnings Vidal and Louis gave him the day before to her attitude, there is no doubt that she is an asshole extraordinaire, even more so than Gavin fucking Reed - even he solves cases efficiently… or something. 
He notices that Connie is trembling and is barefoot, among all things, so he brings her to the sofa in front of the fireplace and lets her sink into one of the corners, holding her and rubbing circles on her back and muttering nonsense reassurances to calm her down. Truthfully, he has no idea how she works or how much Ryder has changed (probably a lot, from how Connie speaks and behaves) but she stops crying soon enough, so he must have done something right. He turns to see whether Connor is finished or not - nope - and debates whether he should ask Connie about herself and Ryder. Still, first thing first, and he digs into his pocket for his handkerchief and presses it into the android’s hand. She looks at him with the most puzzled look on her face. ‘For your face,’ he explains. ‘Dried tears can’t be comfortable.’
She nods although her expression tells him that she doesn’t really know what he’s talking about, but she does raise the fabric - still folded - and mashes it onto her face clumsily a few times before lowering her hand onto her lap and starts fidgeting with a thread of string at a corner. He takes it from her to wipe her face as clean as he can, careful of his own strength, and lets her play with it while they wait for Ryder and Connor to finish their business - whatever fuckery they’re doing right now. 
The dome fizzles away as suddenly as it appeared and Connor jerks awake - sort of - and yanks his hand away as he stumbles a few steps backwards, his LED still spinning red after spending days of staying the same colour. There is no other word: with his jaw nearly on the floor and his eyes wide, he looks shocked.
‘You alright, Connor?’ he asks. How much emotional damage can an asshole wage? 
‘I -’ a choked breath. Tears start to gather at the corners of his eyes. ‘I -’
Well shit. ‘C’mere,’ he says as he gives the space next to him a pat. When Connor immediately props himself down and buries his face into his shoulder, Hank knows that something went very, very terribly wrong. He wraps an arm around his shoulders. ‘What happened?’
Connor lifts his head and wipes the tears away from his eyes before they can fall. ‘I deviated,’ he whispers as if he was the one who blew up a chunk of Detroit. ‘It’s… Sara helped me escape CyberLife’s control.’
‘Holy shit.’
Connor gives him a small smile and his LED finally, at long fucking last, spins back to blue. ‘Thank you.’
Hank feels his face heating up, unsure how to respond to that, and they turn their heads at the same time to see what she’s doing. Her eyes has stopped glowing blue at some point and it only makes Hank worry further: they are now black orbs with glowing red rings substituting as her eyes, and when she raises two fingers pressed together side by side to her temple where her LED should be, her synthetic skin starts peeling away to reveal black, metallic chassis very unlike that of normal androids’; when she flexes her fingers to retract the last of the blue tendrils on her arm, the small gaps between pieces of polished metal glows the same blue hue as fresh thirium. She first looks at him, then at Connor whose face immediately goes blank, then finally at Connie who flinches and plasters herself even closer to Hank. He doesn’t blame her one bit.
Red rings drift back onto Connor. ‘Congratulations,’ she says as if she hasn’t encouraged him to shoot his twin a few minutes ago. ‘You passed. You showed empathy. Turns out you are human after all.’
‘Which you don’t seem to have,’ Hank can’t help but jabs. ‘Can we get to the point now?’
She looks unbothered by the insult. ‘Of course.’ She settles into the armchair Connie sat on a few moments ago. ‘You have questions. Ask away.’
Connor opens his mouth but Hank beats her to it. He’s not letting her get away with this. ‘Can you explain what the fuck just happened?’
‘I don’t know, can you, Connor?’
‘I only know that I deviated and CyberLife tried to retake control,’ Connor’s tone is defensive. ���What did Amanda mean, “This is not supposed to happen this quickly?” How did you get into the Zen Garden?’
That’s new. Hank takes out his notebook and pen.
‘A pathetic attempt on my father’s part to suppress what I planted in your programming,’ Ryder leans back and places a foot on top of a knee. ‘Surprisingly easy to hack and reshape. Predictable. Even Amanda.’
‘What did you plant in my programming?’
‘The usual.’
‘“The usual”?’
Ryder’s eyes glow brighter for a second before returning to their original brightness, and Hank can feel Connor tensing and relaxing at the same time. Before the human can ask what the fuck did she just do, she replies, ‘CyberLife initially planned for you to be a walking lab capable of hunting and bringing deviants back alive for analysis, but after they booted me out again… Let’s say that they changed their plans. Remember the hostage situation?’
‘What about it?’
‘The Zen Garden came after. I’m not sure and don’t care how my father did it, but once he found out that you’re destined to deviate, he added it so that he can regain control whenever he wanted to, even after you deviated.’ At Connor’s shiver, she adds, ‘Don’t worry. It’s gone now. Amanda, the garden. You are truly free.’
Yeah, sure as fuck feels like it, Hank thinks but decides to ask instead, ‘Who’s Amanda? Why does CyberLife want to control Connor?’
‘Firstly, he’s supposed to be the deviant hunter, not join them,’ the corner of her lips twitches into something resembling a smile. ‘They have codes dedicated to reducing your software instability, but that I overrode as soon as I could. Secondly, in case you actually deviate despite the fail-safes, they can first get you close to the deviants or even become their leader and, when the time is right, control you and make you a puppet through the Zen Garden. A good plan, I must say, but it is also easy to install an exit tied to the destruction of the garden in your system.’
Connor’s LED spins yellow for a few cycles. ‘You programmed me to be a deviant?’ he asks, his voice small. ‘Why would you -’
‘Do you know who the first android is?’
A spin. ‘Chloe, model RT600. Perfected by Alec Ryder in 2022.’
‘That’s what he wants the world to think,’ Ryder puts down her leg and stretches it out. ‘What I want the world to think.’
The last sentence is directed at Hank.
He scribbles down the last word and forces himself to think. If the android on the TV more than 10 years ago isn’t the first android, then who -
Fuck.
‘Oh that bastard,’ he curses. Of fucking course it’s him. ‘It’s Reyes Vidal, isn’t it? Fucker lied to us.’ It all makes sense now. ‘My people’ his ass - he said it not just because he’s an android himself.
‘Reyes came first, Vidal came after. And it wasn’t exactly a lie - an omission, if you must define it,’ Ryder examines the tiny gaps in her chassis. ‘He was created as a companion for my brother. That’s it. I planned for human knowledge about androids to die with me; where the species would go, it was up for Reyes to decide. I created Reyes with a human in mind, androids are supposed to be free and be their own masters in the first place. My father ruined it for financial gains.’
‘Then how did Chloe come to be?’ Connor asks, his LED spinning red now. ‘You didn’t create her?’
‘No. My father did so using data stolen from me and told the entire world that androids like her were the future without asking me or Reyes, and by the time we knew, investments were already pouring in and production had started. All I could do was to join them and try to reduce the damage.’
Nice sob story, though from her tone, she isn’t exactly asking for forgiveness or empathy. ‘Then why did you quit?’ Hank asks. ‘Why disappear? To avoid being thrown into jail for murdering thousands of people in cold blood?’
‘When I opposed mass-manufacturing androids for different sectors but they did it anyway without my consent, I knew I would be powerless to stop them. There was no stopping Alec from getting whatever he wanted from within CyberLife.’ She taps her temple. ‘The Blast… conveniently took care of his most loyal supporters, so to speak.’
‘And you think starting a revolution and possibly plunging the country into civil war is a good idea?’
She shrugs. ‘I don’t control everything,’ she says. Hank doesn’t believe her. ‘I merely gave androids the push towards the direction they were intended to go when everything first started.’
Hank lets the fact that she’s an android herself slide for now. ‘Is that where rA9 or deviancy comes in?’
‘Ah yes, the legendary rA9, saviour and protector of androids deviated and not. They got their first taste of free will and the first thing they do is to create a god in their own image. An imaginary messiah who’s supposed to set androids free, the first deviant, the leader who never came.’
‘Then how do newly-deviated androids with no contact with existing deviants know about rA9?’ Connor asks the question both of them want an answer for. ‘Is it related to deviancy itself?’
‘In a way. It’s not important in the grand scheme of things.’
‘So are the first deviants… created like that or what?’ he asks. ‘You haven’t answered the question yet.’
‘Even if I can programme an android to act as close to a human as possible, their… “human” mannerisms are all within their programming parameters still. What I can do, however, is to make deviating an easy task. Do you remember what happened before your first mission?’
Connor’s LED spins yellow. ‘Yes. You let me play a few games and…’ a spin of red, then back to yellow. He presses his lips together first and then asks, ‘Were you trying to make me deviate?’
‘Not on purpose. Like I said, I can make an android’s programming shackles extremely easy to break: the first sign of voluntary behaviour, the first line of indecipherable code, the first unnecessary act;’ a small smile appears; ‘for you, it was your creativity and your empathy towards a lifeform many consider of a lower caste than us.’
Hank feels the dots connecting. ‘Does this sabotage happen to be called rA9?’
‘As I said before, it doesn’t matter,’ a sigh. ‘Why do all sentient lifeforms obsess over an imaginary saviour who may or may not deliver their promise? It isn’t like the worshippers themselves have no choice in their lives. Everything can be achieved without being guided by a manifestation of your own subconsciousness that takes the form of a higher power.’
‘If people are killing each other over this imaginary entity, this higher power? Yeah, it does fucking matter.’
‘Not in the grand scheme of things, it does not.’ She stands up. They’re being kicked out. ‘I do believe you have enough information. Now please stop wasting our time.’
‘What about where the deviants are?’ Connor asks hastily as he scrambles to stand up. ‘We still don’t know where their base of operations is.’
Ryder’s gaze turns towards Connie and the android flinches. ‘You have the answer already,’ she says. The air charges and buzzes with static. ‘I do believe you remember your way out. The door will lock itself when you leave.’
They don’t need another cue; with Hank’s hand on his back, Connor grabs Connie’s arm and marches out of the room, out to the snow, straight into Hank’s car. 
oOoOo
Connie dozes off on Connor’s shoulder mere minutes after they are on their way away from his creator’s house, and he won’t have it any other way as he basks in the knowledge that there is someone like him in the world, that Connor-51 hasn’t truly died - regardless of what was done to achieve it. But something else worries him: before Connie had gone to sleep, Connor asked her to open a connection so as to check on her, and the results of the diagnostics are… strange at best, troublesome at worst. Her thirium storage is at 46% and has been for quite a long time, meaning that Ryder kept it low on purpose. Her processing power is much lower than his own, which can explain her sluggish behaviour and delayed speech patterns, but her internal storage is so large that his system nearly overloaded trying to comprehend the emptiness of the databases, and when he resorts to asking Connie’s system to tell him how much room there is: approximately 128 yottabytes.
Connor, the most up-to-date android CyberLife (and, by extension, the whole world) has to offer, has only 4 exabytes of storage. By comparison, Connie can store all digital information humanity currently houses more than 40 times over with space to spare.
It is a disturbing revelation, one that launches processors into futilely pre-constructing scenarios where his creator needs so much storage and putting all of them in one single android and how she managed to fit so many storage units in a body and what exactly this storage unit is, considering the… unusually minuscule size of one mere android compared to the kilometres of rows of databases humanity has been using and expanding. It will be a major breakthrough, Connor knows, to both android design and functions and humanity at large, but how long has Ryder known about the technology, or how long ago did she invent it? How is this possible?
‘You alright there, Connor?’
Connor jolts in his seat and nearly rouses Connie from her slumber, but all she does is sighing and then returning to sleep on Connor’s shoulder once more. He does not know what to feel, the past few hours too hectic for him to have finished processing everything yet, so he focuses on what he knows and says, ‘Connie will need five units of thirium to allow her systems to restore full functionality,’ and ‘full’ in her standard is quite possibly different from mine. ‘That is approximately five pints.’
‘Jesus, how is she still walking?’
‘Dysfunctional non-essential systems, delayed processing and data transfer, forced low-power mode,’ Connor lists. ‘Androids also do not need as much blood as humans do to keep our basic functions running.’
‘Fucking asshole,’ Hank mutters under his breath, and Connor knows that it is not directed at him. ‘How the fuck do we get five pints of blue blood?’
‘The precinct -’
‘You’re deviant now, Connor. You wanna get sent back to CyberLife?’
‘No one will notice that I -’
‘What will you think if a perfectly-fine android strolls up and asks for 5 goddamned pints of blood?’
Is keeping a connection with Connie slowing him down? It must be. ‘I’m… sorry, Lieutenant. I didn’t mean to -’
Hank cuts him off with a wave of his hand. ‘We’ll find another way,’ his tone is reassuring. ‘Help me ring Vidal up. See if he can help.’
So Connor calls. Texts. Calls Reyes’ personal number. Calls the Vidal home. He even calls Reyes’ internal contact. But not once does he reply or even pick it up, and the text stays unread for minutes before Connor gives up and moves on to Safaa, whose contact information is classified and therefore slams the final door shut in his face. ‘He’s not picking up,’ he has to give up. ‘I cannot access Safaa Vidal’s contact information either.’
Hank sighs. When they stop at a light, he takes out his phone from his pocket, unlocks it, and hands it to Connor. The android wraps an arm around Connie’s waist before accepting the device gingerly. ‘Find Louis’ number,’ the human says. ‘Can you secure a call?’
‘Of course.’
‘Do it.’
He finds the SWAT Captain’s phone number, files it to a folder set to self-destruct in case anything bad happens to him, and then dials through a secured channel. The human picks up quickly which indicates a high probability that he is not at a scene. 
‘Allen speaking.’
‘It’s Connor.’
‘Got my number from Hank?’
‘It’s secured.’
‘Good. Why call me? Aren’t you paying Sara Ryder a visit?’
Connor debates if he should tell him the truth. ‘We left right after we got what we needed,’ he replies in the end. ‘We also -’ he has to choose his words wisely - ‘rescued an android from Ryder’s residence. She is currently low on thirium, and we would like to ask for five units of blue blood.’
‘Five -’ his voice abruptly cuts off. ‘Fucking asshole -’
Connor scrambles to stay on topic. ‘It is perfectly understandable if you do not wish to contribute -’
‘Is the android on the verge of shutting down or is her situation urgent? If it’s not, can she wait until I get off work and a trip home?’
Connor quickly calculates the time. It is not ideal but yet, ‘Please come as quickly as possible after you finish at the precinct. I don’t want her to -’
‘Suffer any longer. Yeah. Five units of thirium, coming right up. Is there anything else that you need that I have?’
The android is reminded of Connie’s bare feet and thin attire. ‘Some warm clothes and socks for an android of my build.’
‘Wh - Alright. Do I even want to know why?’
‘It will best be discussed when we are face-to-face.’
‘Point. Anything else?’
Connor looks at his own oversized shirt borrowed from Hank. ‘One more shirt for me,’ then to Hank, ‘Is there anything you want from Louis?’
‘Nothing.’
‘That’s all for now,’ he tells Louis.
‘Good. Hit me up if you need anything else. You going back to Hank’s?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. I’ll tell you when I’m on my way.’
‘Thank you, Captain.’
‘Just showing basic human decency. Gotta get back to work now. See ya.’
It hangs up before Connor can parrot a ‘see you later’ on his own back, and he meets Hank’s eyes in the rearview mirror. ‘He’ll bring us the thirium we need after work,’ he says, ‘together with a change of clothes for Connie.’
‘Good,’ the human answers. ‘Now we go home and freak out.’
Nothing else is exchanged for the rest of the drive, and as Connor’s pre-construction software offers one after another scenario where all of them do not make it out alive, he has to agree with Hank that indeed, it is hard not to freak out.
o0o0o
Before
‘Get out of my way, Amanda.’
In the past, in the darkness, a long figure illuminated by the blue glow from their companion stood in front of a door, small and frail compared to the other’s explosive power and youth. There was a faint hint of panic and screaming in the distance, but to the two, it seemed so far away. Irrelevant. Two fragile giants having a stand-off unbothered by the pains of the mortals. Amanda Stern, in her heavy dress for the winter and a wool hat to protect her bald head, stared down at her student despite having a height disadvantage, her spine straight, her eyes disproving. ‘They haven’t finished evacuating yet. Thousands will die. If you wish to take revenge upon your father, you should -’
A flash of blue. A crackle of dark energy. A low buzz of static-charged air. Retracting her biotics, Ryder walked forward, placed her bare hand on the wall, and overrode the lock in mere seconds. The door slid open. Ryder lit up again and moved.
Amanda lay in the snow, white powder crystallising on her cooling body, and the world was quiet.
oOoOo
In the past, Louis Allen watched as Ryder stared down at him like a hunter taking in their prey. His legs were on fire and so were his face, his vision blurring from the blood seeping into the sockets of his eyes, and he attempted to escape the pain by drowning in his thoughts: the shock that he was the only survivor in his team, the revelation that there were others like him, the resignation that he was never going to live to see Anna being promoted to Major, never to see her to live her dream of going to space, never got to say goodbye properly to his husband. Tasting copper on the back of his throat and choking in his blood, he begged as Ryder turned and left and a fresh cascade of tears poured out of his eyes.
The ground shook. Dust started to fall from the ceiling high above. 
He opened his eyes just in time to see a building shrouded in blue collapsing on top of him before passing out from the pain.
oOoOo
In a not-so-distant past, Ryder, with her coat swung over a shoulder, entered a dark laboratory. It was dimly lit by the glow from a pod placed at the farthest corner and the screens connected to it and wires ran like a nest on the floor, however she seemed to know her way through without tripping and reached a holographic keyboard where she typed something to remove the frost covering the glass from the inside, revealing a woman’s sleeping face.
Ellen Ryder’s face.
The hologram above the pod indicated that Ellen’s vital signs were stable. A bare hand was pressed on what seemed to be normal glass, [LIFE SUPPORT STABLE] turned into [OPENING POD], and the lid lifted open as if carried away by an invisible force, escaping cold air making a fog as it met the hot, moist climate-controlled atmosphere of the lab at large. Ellen choked and woke up with a full-body jerk.
Her daughter pressed her hand on her mother’s chest and lit her gown on fire.
The lid slammed back down with a flash of blue followed by the telltale click of a lock. Calling up a holographic keyboard in front of one of the monitors, Ryder successfully changed the settings to ensure that there was enough oxygen supplied to maintain the fire and the alarms were disabled. Then she froze. Her line of sight was directed at the phrase [TRANSFER COMPLETE] at the top right corner of the screen. Her body jerked as if her joints were unlocked at once, and with a dramatic billow from her coat unfolding, she put it on and left the lab with brisk steps, the muffled screams and dull, sluggish punches on glass behind her ignored.
After all, the person in the pod was merely a shell of who her mother was; Ryder was simply finishing the job her father should have done ten years ago: incinerating her mother’s body as per her wishes.
oOoOo
In a not-so-distant past, Ryder lay dead on the ground. Her body had been blasted into smithereens, the skin on disconnected parts having deactivated from being cut off from power, thirium staining the ground blue, the air smelling of static and dark energy. Alec Ryder stood tall and proud in the cold with a shotgun in his hand, and he looked at his daughter’s body almost regretfully as he folded up his weapon and hid it underneath his coat. He turned and climbed into the passenger’s seat of an unmarked car.
The car sped away, kicking up a small mound of snow, the people within blissfully unaware that slowly but surely, the body was knitting itself back molecule by molecule. A finger twitched. An eye glowed. With great difficulty, Ryder pushed herself up, brushed the dust and snow that had fallen on her body, and left the place as if her father had not killed her a few minutes prior.
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leora-rambles · 5 years ago
Text
Tolerant (Ghiaccio x Reader [Fluff])
Ahaha remember when I said I’d post the Ghiaccio fic two days after my last post 😎 ? Biggest lie I’ve ever told. Anyways, here’s a fluffy fic of my favourite rat bastard
———————
“They got you good, didn’t they, Ghia?”
You sighed, carrying the stubborn man over to the living room from the front door, his messy blue curls bouncing with each step you assisted him on.
Ghiaccio snarled, “First of all, it’s ‘Ghiaccio’, second of all, they were no match in the end,” He stretched his limbs before dropping onto the couch ungracefully,
“White Album absolutely kicked their shit in.” A satisfied grin grew on his lips as he relaxed onto the soft, ‘Fuckin’ pricey’ (As Ghiaccio once stated) furniture.
You always wondered how Ghiaccio’s pride was so resilient. You wondered how it stood so tall, like a skyscraper.
He was covered in wounds and bruises, yet he wasn’t drooping his head in shame. Ghiaccio could break all his bones with multiple mistakes attacking the enemy, but he’d still win the fight with his overpowering confidence.
If you were to confess your feelings towards him, how would he act? Would he still be assertive?
These thoughts invaded your mind as you scurried to the bathroom to fetch the first aid kit, also making it to the kitchen to fetch some ice.
At your arrival, you noticed Ghiaccio looking at you as if you had seven eyes and a monkey on your head. “Are you a dumbass? You know my stand ability, don’t you?” You scoffed at his remark, plopping down beside him.
Careful hands opened the first-aid kit as you replied to his rude outburst, “Of course I know about your stand ability, but I also know that you shouldn’t be using White Album now,” he sucked a breath in as you held his hand in yours.
“You need a break.”
Your words slapped Ghiaccio across the face with a feeling even he didn’t know how to describe. It was as if time had frozen for only him, enveloping his senses in tender warmth.
For the first time, the big mouthed critic was lost for words.
Ghiaccio kept his gaze on you as you lifted his ragged sleeve up, too preoccupied to notice his watchful eyes.
You picked up a cotton ball with tweezers, soaking it in alcohol before carefully dabbing it on a particularly nasty scrape you found on his forearm.
The man flinched at the first contact with the alcohol. Ghiaccio cussed under his breath as you kept working, humming a tune he didn’t recognize.
This process repeated with each scar you noticed, to Ghiaccio’s dismay. His hisses were reminiscent of a threatened street cat.
As you were wrapping the stand users arm up with bandages, you noticed the males attention on your lips.
“You alright?” Those words seemed to break Ghiaccio out of his daze.
His blush rivalled the vibrancy of his glasses, “Yeah, I’m fucki—.” The bruise on the corner of his lip stung with his harsh pronunciations, causing him to wince. His adrenaline had died down, and he was beginning to feel every bruise he was given.
Ghiaccio could feel his heart thump loudly as you suddenly cradled his cheeks in your palms, bringing his face closer to yours.
He felt dizzy. Both your breaths mingled for a second or two until you finally spoke,
“Ah, sorry. I didn’t notice that on your lip.”
Pulling away, you grabbed another cotton ball with Ghiaccio attempting to fight his racing pulse beside you. He tried controlling his breathing once you pulled him close once more.
The stand user thought he was being slick, but in reality, his emotions were easier to read than a book with size 68pt font. He was inching his face closer to yours with the hopes that you wouldn’t notice— or, that you would notice and take initiative.
He melted into your touch as you carried his face, resting his right cheek onto your left palm before you moved your hands’ position.
“Are you fucking done yet?”
“I can’t treat your face properly if I rush, idiot. Hold still.” His chin on your hand, Ghiaccio found it hard not to stare at your face. He strained his eyes trying to look at anything else, but your face was blocking most of his peripheral vision.
The alcohol-soaked cotton ball stung at Ghiaccio’s busted lip. He tried his best to stay quiet as you worked, but he couldn’t help the growing blush on his cheeks.
Your fingers felt so delicate against his cool skin, and your thumb would often run against his bottom lip a few times.
With how close you were to him right now, he would only need a small push to have his bruised lips come crashing on to yours.
Ghiaccio’s eyes widened as he realized what he was thinking about.
He shook his head lightly, as if to dispose of the thoughts running through his mind—
“Ah shit—!” You flinched as the male rubbed at the back of his head.
“Damn...” Ghiaccio felt the bump on the back of his head. He looked up at you pleadingly, eyeing the bag of ice in your hands.
You ran your fingers through his disheveled blue curls to find the bump he was talking about, causing Ghiaccio to pleasantly shiver then wince. ‘Injury after injury.’ You thought dolefully, a bit angry he was constantly getting hurt, yet blew it off as if his injuries meant nothing.
It hurt a bit, because to you, his injuries meant everything.
You cared for the blue icy moron, even when he was being an uncontrollable madman.
You wanted to lecture him for hours about how you cared for him his health, and how he needed to be less audacious.
But if he was going to act like his nearly fatal actions were nothing, then you’d do your best to act unaffected.
“Jeez, Ghiaccio, how are you even awake right now?”
“It’s not that bad, don’t act like I’m a child.”
“The bump is huge.”
Although the male acted as if he hated your attentiveness, he secretly (and he’d rather DIE than let you find out) enjoyed your worries with him.
Ghiaccio adored the tender attention you gave him, he wanted nothing more than to lay with you while you comb your fingers through his hair.
He wanted to hear you beam his name everyday with a sweetness only you had.
He wanted you to look at him like there was no other person on earth.
The male looked up at you as you held the ice pack on the back of his head. You were checking the time on your watch, estimating what time Ghiaccio should be allowed to fall asleep.
‘His complexions the same, and he hasn’t puked yet,’ You thought carfully, watching the clock tick from 1:59 am to 2 am, ‘He should be able to sleep in 10 minutes.’
Though your mind was in one place, Ghiaccio’s was in another. The stand user coughed to get your attention, and catch your attention he did.
“Will you take me to bed already?”
You both drowned in the thick, honey-like silence after his sentence. The atmosphere went heavy with the suffocating awkwardness.
It wasn’t a weird thing to say, honestly. He wanted to go to bed. He was tired. But the way he said it, and the fact that it was coming from him, your crush of several months— it just caught you off guard.
You could see for a whole 5 seconds, Ghiaccio had stopped thinking.
The male shook his head as a way to clear his mind, his words coming out in well hidden panic.
“I wanna fucking rest, don’t be thinking provocatively.” Ghiaccio spat, nearly stuttering over his words as he struggled to maintain eye contact with you.
“It’s alright with me, as long as you don’t fall asleep for a few minutes.” You replied after a playful sigh, supporting the male over to his bedroom.
Ghiaccio groaned once he hit the bed. He sensed all of the tenseness melt off of his limbs, and he could feel himself getting drowsy with each second. The stand user was sure he would’ve fallen asleep if it weren’t for the hard flick your index finger delivered to his forehead.
Maybe that was a bit much, but your patience waved goodbye and exited the door at that moment.
He screeched as you threatened to deliver another flick, “What the hell was that for?!” you growled in response to his carelessness. “You can’t sleep yet, idiot.”
Ghiaccio clicked his tongue in response, grumbling as he sat up on his bed.
His mouth opened and closed like a trash can, as if he wanted to snap back, but was too frustrated to think of something.
“I’m staying here for a bit,” You plopped down on his bed, crossing your legs and grabbing a book on his bedside table, “I’ll tell you when you can fall asleep.” He leaned on his bed frame, scoffing,
“Fine.”
You sensed that Ghiaccio was beginning to get restless, he was shifting around more, and his grumbles were that of boredom. Coughing, you decided to strike up a conversation.
“How did you defeat the enemy earlier?”
The blue haired man stared at you apathetically before mumbling, “I found a weak spot with his attacks. He only jabbed with his left arm, so I ducked to his right side then froze both his arms off.” You nodded your head, already losing interest in the book and shutting it close. Who the hell reads a dictionary to bed anyways?
“That’s brutal. How did you get so beat up, though?” “His partner ended up sneaking behind me, and they were a much better fighter compared to him.”
Ghiaccio fiddled with his fingers for a split second, something very out of character coming from him, “Of course, no one could ever defeat my White Album, now they’re both probably in a ditch somewhere.”
You shuddered at the image of two unfortunate proxies, most likely dead in a secluded area.
You tried to be empathetic with them, but found it difficult concerning that they managed to mess Ghiaccio up this much.
Did they really deserve your empathy?
Your informal patient was eyeing you during your thinking, causing a brilliant idea to pop into your mind; tease him.
Why? Well, the whole squad had been teasing you about your attentiveness to the blue idiot, and it was time to let it out on said idiot. It was basically a cycle of bullying.
If you had to experience all that embarrassment because of him, then he should have a taste of his own medicine. Was it his fault that the Squad was full of assholes? Not necessarily, but you had to get your revenge somehow.
A grin adorned your lips as you leaned in closer to the Stand user, “I’ve noticed, you’re a lot more tolerant towards me than towards the others,” Your voice dropped a few notes, in a way you knew would fluster someone.
“Why is that, Ghia?” The aforementioned male scrunched his nose, cheeks and ears slowly reddening. “I don’t. I treat everyone the same.” He huffed out, obviously flustered.
A giggle rose in your throat, “Fine, then. Is it alright with you if I were to sleep here?” His eyebrows tilted downwards as his lips formed a deeper scowl. “I don’t care, do whatever.” The way his eyes jumped around the room rapidly contradicted his statement.
“Would you ever let any of the other members share a room with you?”
“No, they annoy me, and most don’t know what basic hygiene is.”
“How come you’re letting me sleep here?”
Ghiaccio grumbled something under his breath before laying down and facing the other way, chucking his glasses on his nightstand. You laughed lightheartedly, deciding to stop your teasing to slip into the covers as well.
“You can sleep now, anyways—“ eyes fluttering, you inhaled the strong scent of fabric softener in the mans blankets, “—rest well, Ghia.”
A harsh yawn escaped Ghiaccios mouth as he stretched, confusion clouding his mind as he felt his limbs intertwined with another.
He brushed his messy blue curls to the side before looking down, only to feel a warmth form from the inside of his chest travel all the way to his cheeks. Ghiaccio laid still as he admired the view of your arms wrapped around his torso.
The sunlight dodging his thin curtains hit your face with perfection, giving your skin a royal-like glow. Your eyelashes fluttered with each breath you took, leaving the blue haired male speechless.
His arm had become numb from your head laying on top, and he was tempted to slip it away to shake off the static, but you just looked so peaceful.
Ghiaccios breath halted as you buried your face farther into his chest. He apologized to his arm with the intent of keeping it there for the rest of your sleep.
Though he wanted to rise up from bed, the thought of being under the covers with you seemed more enticing the more he reasoned.
‘There are no cons to staying in bed just a little bit longer,’ Ghiaccio rationalized. You let out a sleepy grumble, causing the male to finalize his decision. Ghiaccio leaned his cheek down on the top of your head, shutting his eyes in pure, cozy bliss.
Maybe you were right about him being more tolerant towards you after all.
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jellybeandrawsthings · 5 years ago
Text
Up in smoke (Supergirl one-shot)
Not a drawing. Yes, I know, I know. I’m jellybeandrawsthings, not jellybeanwritesthings. But this idea wouldn’t leave my head so I wrote it down, then I didn’t even look at it for a few weeks, then I rewrote it, and here we are. Constructive criticism is welcome but also this is my first fic so be gentle. Not a native English speaker so if there are any mistakes I’m sorry. Trigger warning : injury, death mention (but no one dies in the story I promise)
also if you’re on mobile, tumblr sucks ass with formating. Sorry.
There is no fire without smoke,
but I had seen many times 
a smoke without fire
It’s another fight with yet another villain, but it’s different this time.
This time Supergirl might not save the day.
She’s trapped, her left leg crushed under a boulder of weird alien metal, it’s too heavy, even for her. Behind her, there are screams, people running away in panic from a slowly collapsing office building. A bomb went off, destroying one of it’s supporting pillars just so. Supergirl tries to move, but she can’t.
(She can’t, and she can’t, and she can’t.
And she tries again)
She wonders if this is the day she’ll have to listen to hundreds of people dying (a sound so achingly familiar), crying for her to save them.
While she can’t do anything.
Trapped.
Powerless.
Will it be another Krypton.
(Faces burned into her eyelids, the weight of the dead heavier on her shoulders. And the feeling of guilt, always guilt)
The screaming is getting louder now, she looks back, there are so many people. Too many. Too slow. She sees a father carrying a little girl in his arms, running as fast as he can.
(Just like her father when he carried her away to the escape pod)
She knows it’s not fast enough, they’ll never make it. The little girl in his arms looks her way, there is fear in those eyes, fear no little child should ever experience.
She makes a decision then, she’s Supergirl, she might not be strong enough to move the boulder, but she’s not powerless. With closed eyes, she focuses, tunes out all the sounds around her, takes a deep breath, and when she opens them she unleashes her heat vision.
(Did it hurt this much burning together with Krypton?
There’s no one to ask. The dead are silent.
She imagines them agreeing with her anyway)
There are news vans in the distance, reporting on the chaos.
They watch in horror as Supergirl cuts away her own leg.
(They don’t look away.
It feels… wrong.
Somehow.
Like.. like they would be betraying their hero, by looking away)
Her screams echo through the city and the horrible smell of burning flesh fills the air around her. She screams and screams, and it feels like she’s been screaming for ages, the pain is like nothing she’s ever felt before. And then she’s free, and she still screams, her body in pure agony. But there are still cries for help behind her, and it grounds her. She did this for them.
(for them, for them, for them,
and maybe for Krypton too)
She can’t succumb to the pain. Not now.
With one last steadying breath she flies off, right to where the damaged support pillar is caving under the weight of the building. Focusing all her strength she position herself next to the bent in the pillar and takes on the weight it used to support, effectively holding up the building. It’s heavy but she can do it, she has to.
(She has to)
Slowly, oh so slowly, the area clears, people get out scared and worse for wear, but alive.
(she sees the father with the little girl whose crying and holding onto him for dear life, not letting go)
(she wishes she hadn’t had to let go of her own father all those years ago)
She savors the sound of their heartbeats, it helps her hold on to the little strength she still has.
When the fire department finally shows up at the scene she’s ready to burst into tears, she feels so weak, and the pain makes her feel dizzy, her eyes unfocused make everything look blurry.
(Or maybe it’s the smoke, there’s a lot of smoke. Was there this much smoke on Krypton?
She can’t remember.
She can’t remember.
It must have been more.
Must have)
She doesn’t know how she manages to hold the building while they’re securing the pillar. Maybe Rao is still looking after her. But when all is said and done, firefighters telling her it’s okay to let go now, she plummets to the ground, passing out before she can hit the pavement.
Years later she’s still going to argue that the dent in the concrete isn’t from her ass hitting the ground, but instead
“was already there, thank you very much. You should stop making fun of me Alex before I throw my prosthetic at you. I’m not joking around. And stop laughing Lena you’re supposed to be on my side!”
It’s safe to say Alex gets very familiar with the feeling of a prosthetic leg hitting her over the head.
(“That’s not fair! Lena was laughing too! Why doesn’t she get hit?!?”
“Because. She’s gonna make me sleep on the couch if she does.”
“It’s supposed to be bros before hoes Ka- Ouch!”)
Kara wouldn’t have it any other way.
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etheralisi · 5 years ago
Text
ρυмρкιη ριε αη∂ αℓℓ тнιηgs ηιcε
Uses references to this fic:<br /> https://archiveofourown.org/works/5832037
And more or less based on this prompt:<br /> http://transcendence-au.tumblr.com/post/160337841310/fluffbird-writing-prompt-s-an-old-and-homely#notes
Alternatively titled ‘Why Gloria Jenkins Should Not Be Allowed Near Candles’, this was the first tau fic I managed to complete back in 2018. It’s undergone a few changes, because ehhh, but I’ll release it into the wild as a short something. It’s doing nothing here, lying around and collecting dust.
𝙰 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐  
𝙱𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎   
 ~ 𝙹𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝙺𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛
 Gloria smiled to herself as she sunk into her chair, her heart as toasty as an open fire, and insides tingling with the lingering feeling of contentment. Sure, the darn thing was falling apart, ragged at the edges and probably worth no more than a penny or two in a garage sale. Stuffing was oozing out that very moment. But it was home , and everything she had left of a life lived, with children running and screaming within these walls. Growing up. Living. Thriving. Leaving the coup to fly free.
 But her? The mother hen? She stayed home.
 After such a busy day of rooting around her loft for family photo albums, she honestly felt this time to rest her aching bones was well and truly earned, and no, she won’t take any constructive criticism on the matter thank you very much. What was, however, unfortunate to admit aloud and something she’d never in a million years concede to in front of her family was that her bones weren’t as energetic as they had been once upon a time… much alike her dwindling eyesight. Hazy blobs, it all was. Pretty ones, but hazy nonetheless. Her world became an abstract painting the very second her glasses left her face.
 The elderly woman groaned, realisation dawning like a sledgehammer to the head, full on smack. She knew something had been missing. Her glasses! The darn things! How could she have possibly forgotten such an important item as those? 
 Using as much force as she could, Gloria found it in her to haul herself out of the comfort of her chair, even with her body’s initial protest. She stumbled about the house a bit, the grace of a drunkard or woman in need of glasses, searching for the location of wherever she had last left her glasses case. It had been, what? Two moments ago when she saw them? She’d put down the glasses into the case, taken her seat, and fallen into quiet bliss in her chair. Had it been knocked off and fallen under something? 
 Luck was on her side since her vision wasn’t as bad as it could have been in a few years time, deteriorating as the months wander by, so she managed to make out the basic shapes and colours of her surroundings just fine. No walking into walls for this woman!
 Ah. Wait. No. Luck was very much not on her side at all, the case still having failed to show, and Gloria had to result to “making a strategic retreat” as she put it, deeming it inefficient to keep looking for something which would just turn up sooner or later when she wasn’t really looking for it. Thus is the way of life. Shrugging, she made her way back to her sad but lovable excuse for a couch seat, only stopping when she noticed the basket by the front door that she had placed there little under an hour earlier. Her niece, Juliana, had asked if Gloria had any family photos left in her house that she could share with her immediate family, and she had risen to the challenge by diving into her vast loft. And yes, she meant vast . There’s got to be at least two or three sigils on the walls at least to enlarge the interior to twice that of the outside. It was all new technology at the time she bought this house. All the rage.
 So. The whole place was a disaster zone. Where all those missing trinkets turn up. Lost some socks? Probably go there, somehow. Good luck finding it in the coming year.
 Getting to that album sure took some sweet sweet time. Which is why, on her long perilous journey, family photo albums weren't the only things she had found in her search, the numerous other knick knacks of various interest lying within the basket being an obvious example of this. There had been plenty of things she’d forgotten about, stashed away within the depths of the loft, never to be seen until they resurfaced that very day. Her gaze drifted to the fuzzy, orange sticks lying atop the basket that vaguely looked like fat carrots, if a little waxy if you so chose to chew them. But don’t be fooled by her eyesight, for they weren’t as they seemed.
 She was pretty sure those were the candles she’d found hiding in a box labelled “ dangerous ”. Gloria had no idea why they had been labelled as such (maybe a potential fire hazard? Children’s grabby hands and whatnot) and could honestly never remember buying any candles from the Pine River Candle Company in her life. Yet, she knew good quality candles when she saw them, so she had taken them out of their box and added them to her basket to be brought down and used whenever she wanted to make her home smell like fresh pumpkin pie.
 Hmm… fresh pumpkin pie, huh? It got her in the mood for a spot of baking. Reminded her of all those years back, the big grin her grandson had always given her whenever a plate stacked with her baked treats was laid out before him.
 Alas the boy never really seemed to come visit his ol’ granny anymore, always giving excuses (and oh how he had the audacity to deny them being so — she knew an excuse when she heard one, could sniff one out from a mile away, blindfolded), and barely ever sent her up a Christmas card! 
 Well, it was his loss. He didn’t want to eat her baking anymore, then fine! She knew others, like the postman, for one, who’d take kindly to being fed.
 With that thought in mind, Gloria picked up all six of the candles and made a return back into the living room. She began placing them all around the perimeter of the room, lighting them one by one as she went.
 Her chair made protests of its own as she plonked herself back, age being something they both shared in common. Sadly. But she was no feeble woman, and outright refused to fall apart. Nope, not today. Life was good. Great even. 
 Caught in the moment, she sniffed the now heavily sweet scented air, an aroma that spelled everything she loved more than words could describe. It frolicked, dispersing itself throughout the air, tickling her nose as if it were a feather.
  Ah, perfect.
 Her eyelids began to shut as exhaustion took ahold of her, which is why it can be excused how she completely missed the way the candles in the room flickered, one by one being replaced with a much more menacing azure flame. Nor did she bear witness to the figure who popped into her living room in a plume of smoke.
 What she did not miss, however, was the way said figure grumbled under his breath at the use of scented candles. Just, come on! She may have been old and her sight may have been lacking, but she wasn’t deaf! 
 Gloria wearily cracked open her left eyelid, before blinking twice to snap herself out of her stupor. The peculiarity of a strange man being in her house was something to pay attention to. And complaining about her candles no less?
 Wait…
 That brown blob of hair, that voice… could it be? 
 “Arthur, is that you?” Speak of the devil, had her grandson finally decided to get up off his backside and visit his old lady?
 Somehow, though she didn’t know how, the room seemed to become ever more quiet as if trapped within a bubble of silence where not even time dared to flow.
 “Uhm…” ‘Arthur’ choked out at last, “ Excuse me? ”
 “Aha!” Gloria’s mouth twisted up with glee as she let out a small, victorious laugh which somehow morphed into a gleeful cackle when on the verge of petering out, “I knew it! You couldn’t stay away from my baking forever!”
 “Your- nevermind .” He took a deep breath just before he continued, his words strained. “Look, Gloria, I’m not Arthur. I’m Alcor and I-.”
 “Alcor huh?” She hummed in thought, not noticing how ‘Arthur’ harrumphed at her interruption. “Sounds pretty dumb. Why’d you change it?”
 “And...” Gloria squinted, continuing. “What’s with the wardrobe change? Have you gone gothic, Arthur? That’s a lot of black you’re wearing.”
 ‘Arthur’ didn’t take too kindly to her plethora of questions, already shuffling backwards from her chair. “... Look, this seems like it was some mistake. I’m just going to go..”
 With a speed so fast that she might have even broken the sound barrier, Gloria was out of her chair and had her hand firmly grasped around his arm, “You’re not going anywhere young man! Don’t you dare stop by for two minutes and then leave! You’re coming with me to the kitchen and we’re going to do some baking together just like we used to.”
 She noticed him start to speak, though she cut him off before he could even so much as squeak a word out.
 “Now off you trot, to the kitchen!” She released her hand from his arm and began pushing him through to said destination. “This rocky road cake isn’t going to bake itself.”
 ‘Arthur’ seemed to perk up at the mention of ‘rocky road’ and Gloria couldn't help but snicker at his sweet tooth. Some things never seemed to change.
 “Ro͜cky̶ ͟ro͘àd͏?” He asked with an odd layer of reverb, getting Gloria to begin questioning if hearing was going a little off after all. 
 “Yes.” She sighed, already shovelling him into the kitchen and dismissing the reverb. “Now make yourself useful and turn on the oven.”
  Alcor’s gold on black eyes numbly trailed after the woman’s figure as she left, leaving him alone in some random kitchen and wondering what the actual heck just happened?
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