#stop projecting your spite onto her

[actual-changeling]

heaven doesn't take too kindly to him breaking in a second time.

aziraphale stops them, with his blood already staining their perfect fucking floors, and his hands are balled into shaking fists, his voice projecting more authority than ever. crowley waits until they're alone in the blinding corridors before allowing his body to collapse, hissing when pain flares across his back.

"crowley-" there is a shadow in his periphery, hands reaching for him, but he flinches out of reflex more than intention, taking twisted satisfaction in the strangled noise escaping aziraphale.

"fuck off." while audibly hoarse, the edge to his words is sharp.

with his palms pressed to the floor, he gets to his knees, head hanging down as he sucks in breath after breath to summon enough focus to fix himself.

"let me help-"

"i said FUCK OFF," he spits, glancing up at him through a curtain of red waves and pain. "what do you care anyway."

"of course i care," aziraphale shoots back immediately, somewhere between offended and distressed, and oh, crowley takes the same satisfaction in that, too, no matter how bitter it tastes.

purely out of spite and to regain whatever of his pride is left, he ignores the cut still sluggishly bleeding onto the floor and pushes himself upwards, managing to stand while swaying heavily. he's a fucking mess compared to aziraphale in his pristine archangel get-up, and it lures the anger out of him with ease.

"huh, considering those are your guys you really have a funny way of showing it."

they both know what he is doing, yet the guilt carved into his face is as real as the heartbreak etched into his own. someone knows he is tired of playing games, but that is all they have left now, isn't it? stupid fucking games, as if they hadn't drowned themselves in those for millennia.

"i stopped them, i didn't send them. you know that."

crowley doesn't even attempt to bite back the hollow laugh craving to be set free. it rips through him with pain in his wake, and if he doesn't heal that wound soon the blood loss will make him pass out. how annoying.

"oh, aren't you being hilarious today, archangel. none of this would have happened if you hadn't—"

left.

thirteen months and he still cannot say it. what a pathetic little creature he is, deep down, clinging to love and having nothing but anger to voice it. he understands, he must understand.

suddenly, he is very, very tired.

"i'll be on my way. not gonna clean up though, that's on you."

aziraphale stands frozen, watching, right there and warm and real. crowley barely avoids throwing up at the thought of letting it all go for one gentle touch. in the harsh light, he seems pale, his lips bitten raw, and crowley loves him so desperately it hurts. gritting his teeth, he heals the cut oozing all over his back and nearly topples over with relief. hold me, he doesn't say. help me. come back. i miss you.

"for what it's worth, crowley, i am sorry."

they look at each other, gold and purple-blue-something new. he refuses to believe in Her after everything, but he believes that they will fix this somehow. crowley swallows and his fingers twitch at his side when the light catches on the tears gathering on aziraphale's waterline. they will fix this.

they have to.

"yeah, me too."

three word sentences hiding the one they both cannot voice, yet he finds forgiveness cannot easily be forgiven, not this time.

(it still counts)

[bestworstcase]

your point about team rwby being the maidens’ liberators made me think - do you think blake is going to have a special connection to the summer maiden? I noticed that she’s the only one who hasn’t been close to a maiden yet

i think gillian asturias is the summer maiden (and this post is hysterical in hindsight. at the time i wrote it, the full-length v9 epilogue hadn’t been released yet so we’d only seen qrow’s section and about half of winter’s – hence my pausing to lay out the argument for salem going to vale next and making a pretense of hedging my bets on the crown being narratively central in v10. lol)

now! with regard to blake and the summer maiden, the common thinking here seems to mostly run along the lines of “…and that’s why summer maiden ilia,” or the more general speculation that the summer maiden will be a faunus character.

to this i say:

it’s a fallacy to conflate “blake will probably have a strong narrative connection to the summer maiden” with “the summer maiden necessarily is or will be blake’s old friend,” and the argument for ilia being due for maidenhood is quite thin otherwise, and

blake can and does have important narrative connections to characters who aren’t faunus, and it’s a weird to presume that in order for the summer maiden to have a meaningful tie to blake, she must be a faunus herself.

to expand on that first point, let’s consider the personal relationships between each of the maidens so far and ruby / weiss / yang:

pyrrha -> ruby’s friend

cinder -> ruby’s personal enemy

raven -> yang’s estranged mother

penny -> ruby’s friend

winter -> weiss’s beloved sister

the takeaway here – other than that if you’re ruby’s friend and someone offers you to become a maiden you should refuse – is half the relations between maidens and members of team rwby are antagonistic. (raven seems likely to at least try making amends with yang in v10, but as it stands in the narrative right now things between them are very fraught.)

it is just as likely that blake’s narrative connection to the summer maiden might develop through a personal conflict between them, rather than friendship. yes?

and, if i’m right about gill being the summer maiden, well—stop me if you’ve heard this one: a girl with a driving, passionate ambition to uplift her people from the ashes of centuries of conquest and subjugation is radicalized by a boy she loves who pulls them both deeper and deeper into violent, spiteful extremism that ultimately harms the very people they claim to fight for, until he finally crosses a line she can’t accept and she says no i will not.

that’s blake and adam but it’s also gillian and her brother. the difference between them is that blake’s red line was adam glibly revealing that the train heist was actually intended to be a massacre whereas gillian’s was jax stating his intention to commit suicide rather than retreat and live to fight another day; she helped yatsu subdue him specifically to save jax’s life, not because she had a crisis of conscience about their movement.

(there is a certain—really irritating—contingent of CFVY novel readers who project their own dislike of jax onto gill and insist that she turned against him because he demanded she ‘sacrifice her life’ to save him, which 1. he didn’t, he asked her to give him all her aura and then bodily shielded her because he’s physically bigger than she is so this was at worst a “if we’re going down together, i’ll make them go through me first,” 2. if gill only wanted to save her own neck all she had to do was rip her aura out of him and bounce, and 3. she explicitly says that the reason she did what she did is because he’s her brother, she loves him, and she couldn’t let him die.)

the point being, gill is still a radical; her soft betrayal of jax revealed her priorities in that she loves her brother more than The Cause, but in no way did it represent a break from her belief in the cause. if the epilogue is any indication, she’s just as committed to overthrowing shade academy as before. (and i think there’s a real chance that her actions will have improved her relationship with jax to some degree, because he believed she didn’t care about him at all! he thought she only stuck with him because his semblance compelled her to do so! and then gillian exploded his mind by revealing that his semblance straight up doesn’t work on her and she just loves him. which, if the twins are on the same page now, cuts down on the internal tension and likely makes them more dangerous adversaries to the coalition.)

but her history, the way she became like this, is eerily similar to blake’s radicalization in the white fang, and i think blake would certainly be able to piece that together. she’s also by far the member of team rwby i would say is most likely to recognize and relate to the genuine pain at the heart of the crown’s movement—vacuo has suffered.

vacuo wasn’t even a state until the end of the great war. it was a mistrali territory. its people were enslaved and worked to death in a systematic and horrifyingly effective project to extract every last speck of valuable resources from the region, and then even statehood was a slap in the face because they were left to fend for themselves in a barren wasteland whose ecosystem had been completely and utterly destroyed.

the crown is a mirror held up to the white fang; blake is insightful and empathetic enough to realize these similarities and see herself and her past mistakes reflected in gillian, but this time she’s an outsider to the movement—she can’t effect change from within or reclaim the true, important work from the vengeful extremists. so she’s limited in what she can do, practically, even as it’s going to be painfully clear to her that the crown is falling into the same trap adam did.

and at the same time, the new white fang will in all likelihood either be in vacuo or show up to join the coalition in v10, so blake’s part in her own movement, her place in her community, can be directly juxtaposed with her opposition to/empathy for the crown.

v9 sets up for this with blake’s advocacy for the afterans—v7-8 do as well to a lesser extent, because blake is still dealing with the personal fallout of v4-6 and thus is quieter about mantle than say, nora is, but like. blake draws a comparison between her experiences in the white fang and with adam and the moral compromises ironwood starts making after the election. it just seems… pretty clear to me that the narrative has been setting up blake to play a pivotal role in relation to the crown since at least v4 if not earlier, depending on how granular the vacuo outline was during v1-3.

so this is a narrative connection i very much expect blake to have with gillian regardless, but… if gill is the maiden…

well, she’s certainly not trapped inside ozpin’s vault/key maiden paradigm! so in that case what does it look like for a member of team rwby to fulfill this narrative role of liberation? probably something like de-radicalizing her and her brother by convincing them there is a better way forward than their divisive, violent, paranoid ideology. and blake is unquestionably the member of team rwby best equipped to get the ball rolling there.

further, blake’s semblance is a really strong counter to gill’s – that’s true of ruby and weiss as well, because gillian has to touch a person in order to steal aura and so agile, fast opponents are going to be tougher for her in general. but blake has two more things going for her beyond the basic mobility advantage, vis-a-vis making it personal:

the illusionary aspect of blake’s semblance will allow her to create decoys, which is a very powerful tactical advantage against an opponent who really wants to grab her, and

blake’s girlfriend is a hand-to-hand fighter, and an incredibly brave one with an intense protective instinct at that.

clears throat. we all remember yang getting possessed in rwby x jl part 2, yes? and blake clocking it instantly? well.

if blake and gillian are meant to be not just foils but personal adversaries in the vein of ruby and cinder—yang’s gonna get got. agile though she is, as a hand-to-hand combatant yang is unavoidably much more vulnerable to the twins’ contact-based semblances than the rest of her team, her personality will make it very hard for her to play it safe and stay back if it comes to an open fight, and there is nothing the narrative could do to lock in that personal enmity that would be punchier than yang being compromised.

even if gill as a personal adversary to blake isn’t in the cards i expect yang to get got anyway because, let’s be honest: do we really expect crwby to set themselves up with a golden opportunity to do a climactic love-overcomes-mind-control scene with the bees in v10 and then not take it? with how nuts the entire creative team goes for these two? after the climactic battle in ice queendom hingeing on yang being able to free blake from a nightmare with the mere lesser power of unrealized lesbianism? do we reeeally believe they would pass that up? lol.

[idrawstuffidk]

Ok. I’m typing this while watching the premier bc I don’t know if I can do this. Live reaction I guess.

30 second left, why must I suffer this way? None of these emojis are accurate to how I’m feeling

Fuck you monotv

Someone voted for Teruko? Who?

NOOOOOOOOOO

Why would you think that, whit?

You absolutely can blame yourselves, hu.

Oh ace he looks so tired

Acevi is dead and alive at the same time oh my gosh

Oh here we go Teruko! Killing monotv is an idea. I don’t think it would matter though

OH SHIT GO OFF ACE

Well… you did kill monotv in a way… bc you messed up their personality

This is not going to work

Awwwwww whit telling Charles to cover his eyes is so sweet

Well… I respect that Teruko, I guess

That’s depressing, Teruko

Oh wow that’s not teruko’s blood is it

LEVI!?!?!?!?

OH MY GOSH HES OK

Ace is going to let himself die to save Levi??

OH MY GOSH ACE YOU SWEET THING

C’mon, Arturo! I know you can do it!

Oh my gosh ace you are so sweet and so right!

I don’t want to watch this, my poor baby. I love you so much Ace.

NO I DONT LIKE HIS CRYING SPRITE

Oh this is an interesting execution I guess

STOP TORMENTING HIM ALREADY

At least he wasn’t drawn and quartered like we thought he would be. I don’t know if this is worse…

I’m liking this character development, Teruko! I’m liking you more more!

No it’s not your fault Teruko, your choices didn’t kill them, so it isn’t your fault. Her crying spites are so sad btw.

Ok so, final thoughts.

1. Ace running through his execution was likely because he was trying to get to the end as fast as he could to save Levi, and I like the autonomy that gives him

2. Levi saved Teruko just like he said he would. Levi said he would never let Teruko get hurt as long as they were classmates

3. Everyone is projecting this episode, Teruko projected onto Ace, Ace projected onto Arturo, wow.

4. I hate Hu with a burning passion still, I hope she and Veronika die!! ❤️

5. Acevi is so canon and I am openly weeping (actually I’m not this time probably bc I’m writing this which is helping more than I thought it would)

6. I cannot get over this, Ace is so fucking cool and I love him so fucking much

7. I loved reading monotv’s robo voice. Very fun

8. So Ace clearly blames himself for whatever happened to the one person who he ever considered a friend, it involves his hands or his gloves or smt, idk what that’s about but I hope we learn more

9. I think Levi will live, it seems like good character development potential for him

10. The CGs and animations were on fucking point.

[generic-sonic-fan]

A Father's Embrace

Summary:

“Father,” said Sage, “Metal Sonic has voiced to me that he would like a hug as well.”

(Eggman, post Frontiers and with the help of Sage, realizes something about the way he’s been treating Metal Sonic. Inspired by Egg Memo 19)

2855 words

The holo-matter generator was now capable of being stable for longer than a few seconds. It wasn’t capable of generating textures, only force, as air molecules were gathered into a rough approximation of a solid. Sage was now able to manipulate basic physical machines, such as levers, buttons, and switches, all of which would help her when interfacing with systems that were too primitive to be networked to. 

And now came the final test. 

Ivo stood in the center of the testing chamber. Sage materialized a few feet away, and a hum filled the room as the holo-matter generator whirled on. She waved a hand over her arms, chest, and legs. 

Ivo smiled. “Come here, my girl.” 

She inched closer, and he held his arms outstretched. She hovered out of reach for a moment, clutching one arm in the other. She then simulated a deep breath- she was getting so good at that! -and flew forward until she met his chest. Instead of phasing through, there was a gentle push of force against his sternum. 

“Hologram stability remains at 98%.” She reported. “Holo-matter generator output is consistent according to my data. Can you confirm this observation?”

“I can.” He whispered. “May I commence the next stage of testing?”

“Yes.”

He brought his arms toward his chest, stopping when he hit the back barrier of her hologram. His pinky dipped into her graphic before she recalibrated the wall of force to push it back to her surface. 

“Stability?” He asked.

“88%, but holding steady. Proceeding with reciprocation.” 

He felt her arms press against his sides. So small they were. Such a delicate hold, as if the slightest gust of wind might shake her off.

“Father, you may be experiencing what my database refers to as ‘cuteness aggression’. Please remain mindful of your exertion of force.”

He dropped his embrace immediately. “Stability?”

“Still within acceptable levels.” Sage looked up. “Please. . . re-engage the test?”

He placed his hands back onto her back. He recognized, now that she’d pointed it out, the urge to hold her tight, to twirl her around, to shield her body with his own to protect her from all harm. . . as illogical as it was. The holo-matter projector could only project a force of around five pounds. So, instead, he began caressing a careful hand up and down her back.

“I will strike this unscientific language from the record when we are finished with this experiment, but I wish to inform you that this is wonderful, father.” Sage said.

“Absolutely wonderful. I concur.” 

“Better than my simulations. Better than I could have ever speculated.”

He leaned forward to place a kiss on her head, but his lips passed through her hologram.

“Apologies, father!” Sage giggled. “Such an action was not detailed in the testing procedure. I have not generated holo-matter for that portion of my avatar.”

“It would seem we require further tests, then! Repetitions of this experiment would be greatly beneficial.” He smiled.

“Indeed!”

Ivo held her until the whir of the holo-matter generator became a roar, and a notification popped up, warning of an overheat. Spite drove him to stay curled around her, but alas, her tangibility vanished. She hovered, for a moment, a silent image in the shell of an embrace, before she phased through his arms. 

“Test complete.” She reported. “The holo-matter generator will require thirty minutes to return to operation.”

“I’ll see what I can do to fix that.” Ivo walked over to the device.

Sage flew in front of him, blocking his path. “Current internal temperatures are high enough to inflict damage to your tissue- you must wait until the device is cool.” 

“Ah, if you insist. How long?”

“Long enough for you to sit down for a meal. What shall I have the kitchen prepare?”

“Clever girl.” He wagged his finger. “If we’ve got the material for an egg salad sandwich, I’d like that.”

“Order sent successfully. Shall I accompany you to the dining room?”

“If you’ll have me, my dear.”

With a flick of her eyes, the door to the test chamber opened. They walked out and into the hall. Correction- he walked, she hovered, her hair and dress modeling appropriate undulations due to the air resistance. She’d worked so hard to detail her own animations. He couldn’t help but smile at that. 

Before they could reach the dining room, Metal Sonic rounded the corner down the hall ahead of them. 

“Hello, brother. Have you completed your task?” Sage went ahead and landed beside him. 

Metal Sonic, of course, didn’t respond with anything visible or audible. The unit wasn’t programmed for that. 

“That’s good. Mark that operation as done, and bring the production line to phase three once the resources arrive.” Sage instructed.

She could easily give this instruction to Metal Sonic over the network. She had remote command over every Badnik currently operating in the empire through the Eggnet, and she used it for such in every instance except for this particular unit in blue. Thankfully, Metal Sonic was the most well-equipped of his creations to constantly transport itself back and forth to her beck and call, but this habit of hers was still inefficient.

A small giggle from her wiped all the annoyance from his thoughts, though. “The experiment went wonderfully. I would like to include you in further repetitions of it if possible.”

“Don’t be silly, Sage.” Ivo said as he arrived beside the two.

“I am not. Calibrating the holo-matter generator against surfaces of different shape and density would generate useful data.”

“In that case, I suppose I’ll review it if you write a draft of the procedure.”

“Thank you.”

He gestured her back to his side and continued walking, yet she did not appear beside him. He paused, looking over his shoulder to find her still standing beside Metal Sonic.

“I’d like to propose a different variant of the experiment. Or perhaps, not an experiment at all, as the action will not serve for the purposes of data collection.”

“What is it?” He turned around.

“Brother has expressed to me that he would like a embrace from you as well.” Sage said. “Given that he already possesses a physical form, it would be a simple request to fulfill.”

Ivo saw his once-greatest creation stiffen as straight as a ramrod at the words.

No, that couldn’t be the case. It just had to be a trick of the light. Or a trick of his own mind. Pure projection, that was all. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sage, reevaluate your previous statements for falsehoods.”

“I am not permitted to lie to you. You know this. My statement is based on evidence. Would you like me to show you the file-?”

She stopped herself. At the same time, Metal Sonic’s left pinky digit curled inwards, and that was no trick of the light at all. Sage covered her mouth. She then lifted from the floor and rejoined Ivo’s side. Metal Sonic began walking back down the hall. Walking quickly. Almost running.

“Apologies. Please disregard the previous conversation.” Sage waved him in the direction of the dining room.

“Metal Sonic, stop.” Ivo commanded.

The badnik froze in its tracks. 

“Please disregard my previous words. They were in error.” Sage said.

“What kind of error?”

“. . . I am now aware that I was not supposed to bring his request to your attention.”

“Is that so?”

“This breach in etiquette was entirely my own. Please do not let this incident reflect poorly on him in your assessment of his functionality.”

Ivo walked around the motionless Badnik until he was directly in its path. It had ceased walking mid-stride, and stared directly ahead.

“Sage, I understand that you seek familial connections. Are Orbot and Cubot not to your satisfaction?” Ivo said.

“They are quite satisfactory. I enjoy an excellent relationship with them. Is there a reason I cannot pursue the same with Metal Sonic?”

“I’m sorry, my dear, but Metal isn’t designed for such a function. Too much of this sort of thing could start affecting his efficiency.”

“You have designed him with a short-term adaptive processor capable of intaking new data with ease. Furthermore, he has witnessed, quote, ‘this sort of thing’, in abundance during his extensive encounters with Sonic and Tails.”

“He is a weapon. He shouldn’t be bogged down with more of that sort of data than he needs to be to exploit it.”

“Should I not be ‘bogged down’ with this data, either, then?”

There was no hidden barb in her voice, and no malice in her eyes, yet it still felt as if Ivo had stumbled into a trap. 

“Statistically, my emotional data hinders my processing speed by 7%.” Sage continued. “In order to achieve a higher rate of efficiency, shall I-?”

“NO! Absolutely not. Don’t you ever consider such a decision again!” Ivo pointed.

“Even if not doing so will put your life at stake?”

“Yes!”

“Understood, father.” She nodded. “If that is the case, then what is your command to Metal Sonic in this regard?”

Ivo lowered his hand and turned his gaze to the blue Badnik. It still hadn’t moved. His verbal command held perfect power over it; Metal Sonic was caught in suspension, frozen in time, held to stillness beyond the capabilities of a living organism. There was nothing to be read from its glowing red irises. No thought, no emotion.

Ivo thought he’d patched the “emotion” part out after the Neo Metal incident. That had required a near-total wipe of Metal Sonic’s operating system; rebuilding the AI had taken months, and it had taken even longer for it to relearn the more complex functions that came with experience. Catching any re-emergence of emotion in the early stage meant that it would be possible to simply order Metal Sonic back to the work bench and repeat the process, but. . .

He looked at Sage. Her hand covered her mouth, obscuring the intricate animation of worry painted onto her face. 

“Sage, what do you think should be my command to him?” Ivo asked.

“If I may speak freely?” 

“Of course, my girl. Always.”

“Have you not perfected my loyalty protocols in the current version of my operating system?”

“I don’t doubt your loyalty.” 

“Is there a reason you can not implement similar loyalty protocols in Metal Sonic’s processor?”

“He’s simply not designed for that. You, my dear, are in the network. You accompany me everywhere, as it’s your primary function-”

“And as a result, I generate positive emotional data that strengthens my loyalty protocols instead of conflicting with them. I’m aware.”

“You are not permitted to interrupt me.” Ivo snapped. “What has gotten into you?”

“You gave me permission to interrupt you in regards to the imminent safety of yourself or the Egg Empire, and I’m interrupting on behalf of the Empire now. Root cause analyses show that the most significant causal factor in the Neo Metal incident was a conflict between emotional data and loyalty protocols. To prevent this recurrence, I am recommending that you utilize the same procedure that has seen resounding success with me.”

“It’s too late for that. I’d have to restructure his AI from the ground up to be more receptive to that sort of-”

“Negative. In fact, the last thing brother wants is to be reprogrammed.”

Ivo knelt down. He stared again into Metal Sonic’s irises. The projected ovals on the eyescreen were frozen, of course, but he knew that Metal’s camera mechanisms were independently mobile. It could be looking anywhere if it had the ability to shirk orders. It could simply be playing frozen and helpless on the surface, waiting to strike if provoked. 

Or. . .

“Sage, access Metal Sonic’s emergency shutdown code, and be ready should he attempt to harm me.”

“He will not harm you. I apologize for referencing the Neo Metal incident. I thought it would illuminate the situation. I did not intend to imply that Metal Sonic has gone rogue in any capacity.”

“Of course I knew that. Now quit blathering and be ready.” Ivo snapped, before taking a deep breath. “Metal Sonic, relax.”

Its joints released. It stumbled a miniscule amount before restoring itself to an upright standing position. 

“Is it true that you’ve developed emotional data despite the inhibitors?”

Metal Sonic did not reply. 

“Answer me. There’s no purpose in trying to fool me now.”

“Father, Metal Sonic is incapable of-”

“Which is why I’m asking yes or no questions. Now answer!”

Metal Sonic’s head shifted a few millimeters up and down.  

“And you did not report this malfunction to me?”

Another nod.

“Because you did not want to be reprogrammed?”

Another nod. Ivo pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“You did not want to be reprogrammed because you’ve found a way around your intended programming again.”

Metal Sonic shook its head violently. Ivo flinched, but the Badnik did not make any further approach. 

“Actually, Father,” Sage said quietly. “He does not wish to be reprogrammed because it would hinder his effectiveness to you. He is familiar with the length of the turnaround time after the erasure of his previous incarnation.”

“Show me the communication in which he stated this. You said you had the files.” Ivo pointed to her. 

Her hologram flickered out of existence, and was replaced with a box of text displaying the finer workings of her operating system. She navigated through the folders, leading to a file labeled “Communications With Unit MS-1”. A wall of binary text appeared. In a second, various bits in the binary were underlined with blue.

“Shall I translate the text to english?” Sage asked.

“No, I can read it well enough.” 

The binary words said exactly what she’d promised. He should have known. She would not- and as a matter of fact, could not -lie, yet he’d doubted her. He’d have to apologize later. He waved off the screen, and Sage transmuted herself back to her original form.

He looked back to Metal Sonic. “So you don’t see me as a roadblock in the way of your core directive?”

It shook its head. 

“You don’t object to how you’ve been treated since I last reprogrammed you?”

A hesitation. Ah, there it was. Ivo gave a bitter smile.

“Father, if I may speak freely?” Sage asked.

“Yes, you may.”

“If I received the same treatment that you have given to Metal Sonic. . . I would object to it as well.”

Ivo stared at her.

“For efficiency’s sake. To prevent the aforementioned conflict of emotional data and loyalty protocols, amongst other things.” Sage added quickly. 

Metal Sonic lowered his gaze to Ivo’s shoes. 

“Why,” he swallowed, though this did nothing to ease the tightness in his throat, “are you informing me of this?”

“I do not wish for this current operating system of Metal Sonic to be erased.”

“I would never erase you, my girl, if that is your concern with all this.”

“I do not fear for my own life. I fear for his.”

Life. 

An intelligence made of code and electrons. Brilliant and loyal and perfectly effective. The product of a true genius. Sage was all of this, her design perfected from previous iterations. He’d based the bulk of her data calculation and analysis programs off of the adaptive processing he’d developed for Metal Sonic’s OS. 

. . . perhaps he’d created life a lot earlier than he’d thought. 

Funny. He’d spent months laboring over Neo Metal Sonic’s code, unable to find the source of the catastrophic malfunction that’d overridden his prized creation’s processor. Now the answer couldn’t be more obvious. How could he have missed it?

“Just so everything is clear,” Ivo looked to Metal Sonic. “All you truly want from me. . . is a hug?”

Seconds passed, before it nodded. 

Ivo laughed. He threw his head back and let his laughter spill down the hallway. He clapped a hand against Metal Sonic’s shoulder before standing. 

“Father?” Sage asked.

“Yes?”

“Why are you expressing humor in this moment?”

“Don’t worry about it! Say, the kitchen should be ready with my sandwich, shouldn’t it? It’s about time I sat down and had a nice lunch with my children. Come along now.”

He started walking. He did not hear any footsteps following. Metal Sonic was staring at Sage. Communicating, most likely. 

“Come along, you two. You wouldn’t leave your old man to starve, would you?”

“To clarify, Father- you do not wish for Metal Sonic to delete his emotional data?”

“No, keep it where it is. And Sage, clear my schedule for today. I want to take a look at his processor after this.”

“Rescheduling now.”

Metal Sonic curled its pinky digit. 

“Don’t you worry. It’s not to erase you.” He assured. “I just want to take a look. If I like what I see, I might take those emotional inhibitors out of you.”

Metal Sonic simply stared. 

“That would be wonderful, Father.” Sage replied.

“I’m glad you like that idea. Now follow me, please.”

Sage hovered by his side. Metal Sonic trailed behind, its footsteps echoing in the hall.

Or his footsteps, as the case may be. Ivo would have to ask for a preference.

---

(Future chapters posted on AO3)

[sephirothsplaything]

DNA| Sec.80 high power-chapter 14

A/N:Nooo Rhaella! Please don't project your obsessive/avoident attachment style onto Jace because you miss Aemond!!

This is the story of Lady Rhaella Targaryen; the strange one and her role in the Dance Of Dragons. Loved by few and feared by many.

The blood of the dragon runs in Targaryen's veins. Something else runs in Rhaella.

BLACK TARGARYEN OC/READER

PARINGS: Aemond, Cregan,slight Jace, slight Addam,original character.

Read the last chapter here!

"I should have been there," Jacaerys grumbled. 

Rhaella looked up to the starry skies in silence. She was still reeling from her brush with death. How the weight of her dagger felt lighter when she found the resolve to kill again. 

It was quite perplexing. The thought almost made her smile.

Jace had found himself outside to where Rhaella had stashed herself away. She did not particularly mind his presence, so long as he kept quiet. But here he was, ranting away.

"Are you listening?" Jace asked. Rhaella nodded. Jacaerys was angry, rightfully so. But more than anything he wished to act, to fly his dragon and turn their enemies to ash.

"It was a bold scheme, I admit," Rhaella says finally. Jace rolled his eyes in response. 

"Such stupidity could only come from Aegon, I'm sure." He said.

"Criston Cole had a likely role." Rhaella comments. It was not so long ago that he had blocked her from leaving Alicent's company. There was so much hatred in his eyes.

"If my mother only allowed me to be of use." Jace ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

Rhaella scoffed. Was he truly this short-sighted?

"You lack experience, your dragon is young," Rhaella states bluntly. Jace turned fully to face her. His cousin was an enigma, for sure. He could not comprehend how she was content with watching and waiting.

"You could claim a dragon or even an egg," Jace said. 

"I am trying,it is not so easy." Rhaella snapped. He couldn't understand, his dragon was born to him. Rhaella was shown no such favor.

Recognizing he had struck a nerve in her, Jace drew back instantly, eyes softening.

"I meant no harm by it," Jace reassured. Rhaella shrugged his words off, it meaning little and less.

"I am not your betrothed, you need not consider my feelings," Rhaella scoffed.

Jace parted his lips to speak, but Rhaella's icy voice cut him off once more. She felt compelled to continue.

"You wish for vengeance, it is unbecoming of you," Rhaella said. 

Jace observed Rhaella's state. It was as if she hadn't been attacked merely hours ago. Her serene demeanor was nearly terrifying. Like she had since made up her mind about something.

"Was Luke not worthy of vengeance?" Jace asked. Rhaella's steely purple eyes hardened. She misliked when her words were misconstrued.

"War is sweet to those who have never fought," Rhaella said. The words were for Jace as well as herself. A poor attempt to calm her own bloodlust.

"My mother holds back, it unravels us all," Jace countered. Rhaella shook her head.

"She is strategic in her wait, you are too blind to see it."

The two cousins were quiet for a moment. The warm Dragonstone breeze passed over both of them.

"Aemond will not stop, and neither shall I," Jace concluded. Rhaella tensed at the sound of his name. Hard as she might try, Aemond's letter was still occupying space underneath her pillow.

"Alright then, promise me this," Rhaella said. "You are the heir to the throne, and my sister will be your queen."

Jace's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He could not follow.

"Take all your spite and sorrow, give it to me so that you may think clearly," Rhaella said.

"I would not dare place that burden on you cousin," Jace said.

"I can take it, you cannot." Rhaella resolved. Jace's anger would cloud his logic, and if Rhaella were to instill her plans inside of him, she could not have his foolishness getting in her way. His claim was much too important.

"Agreed, but I ask something from you in return."

Rhaella's eyebrow raised. She was unsure if she was in any mood to entertain this.

"Let us help each other keep our wits about us, I know you long to act as well," Jace said.

So he had been paying attention. All the subtle twitches in Rhaella's mostly melancholic face. Twitches of rage and passes of darkness. Jace had indeed seen it all.

Rhaella was not so alone as she thought. 

"Fine," Rhaella said, almost in a whisper. She resigned, hoping he would not disappoint her.

Jace stood up, stretching out. He offered his hand to Rhaella.

"The hour has grown late, shall I walk you to your chamber?"

………………..

THE MORROW CAME. Astris had scrubbed Rhaella raw and brushed out her curls into oblivion.

"You could be more gentle," Rhaella muttered. She watched Astris dart back and forth gathering her clothes for the day.

"Mayhaps, but now you look more like a lady!" Astris retorted. Holding out a towel, Rhaella wrapped it around herself.

"I never thought much of my looks." Rhaella sat on a stool as Astris began to work through her hair. Her mother would tell her that she was pretty, but Rhaella figured she was more or less obligated to do so.

Astris formed Rhaella's silver curls into a braided style more elaborate than she was used to. The braids tapered off into thick curls that fell to her waist. 

"I could not know why, you have quite a lusty figure," Astris commented cheekily. It made Rhaella's cheeks grow warm.

"If you are finished with your jests, I would like my gown," Rhaella said.

Astris helped Rhaella slip into her gown, it was a fine thing indeed. A red and black dress with a form-fitting corset with long sleeves that flowed down.

"What did you and the prince discuss last night?" Astris asked, adjusting the corset.

"I simply advised him to not be a fool," Rhaella responded. Astris giggled, leaning into her.

"And here I thought it would be something of note."

Rhaella turned to face her, purely unamused. "Today you are full of jokes, I see."

Astris shrugged, a small smirk on her face. "I had nearly forgotten what your preferred taste in men is."

She was relentless today, likely bored. Rhaella dismissed Astris from her chamber, turning back to look at her reflection. She felt like a pretender.

When Rhaella entered Rhaena's room, she found that Baela was already there.

"Sudden change in wardrobe?"Baela said. Rhaella made herself comfortable on Rhaena's couch.

"Astris insisted, overwhelmingly so," Rhaella said. Rhaena's eyes sparkled at the sight of her sister, despite her own sullen face.

"What is it?" Rhaella asked. Rhaena sighed, her hands restless with one other.

"Her grace is shipping me off to the Vale with Joffery, Viserys, and Aegon," Rhaena said.

"Perhaps it is for the best," Baela said, holding Rhaena's hand. She scoffed in response.

"Yes away from everything else, I shall play the nursemaid," Rhaena said bitterly.

"You'll have our father to thank for that," Rhaella said. Since his mistake..as he called it occurred, The queen rightfully feared that the greens may take action against her youngest.

"I hate him, sometimes," Baela admitted, reluctantly. For Rhaella, it was a common feeling she held since she was a girl. Despite her loathing, she found herself missing her father.

She would not dare voice the thought.

"The queen trusts you with them the most, she knew better than to send me," Rhaella said. Joffery seemed to prefer Rhaena to herself whilst Aegon and Viserys were always occupied by a maid. 

"She keeps you and Baela because of the dragons," Rhaena said.

Baela sighed again. Rhaella knew the feeling all too well. A Targaryen without a dragon was like a knight without a sword.

"If it is of any commiseration, Aegarax still refuses me," Rhaella said. 

"He is wild, give it time," Baela said. But in truth, time was little and less on their side. War was at their doorstep and Rhaella was annoyingly vulnerable.

"Right," Rhaella murmured to herself.

"The queen has asked me to keep watch over Kings Landing," Baela stated.

A poorly timed thing to say, Rhaena and Rhaella glanced at each other in agreement.

"Is that safe? So close to the city?" Rhaena asked.

"I shall stay high," Baela said confidently. Rhaella greatly doubted her sister would follow the queen's instructions so closely. And what if she fell upon one of the Greens dragons?

Her stomach turned at the thought.

"Moondancer is small, she will not be noticed so easily," Rhaella said instead.

Baela gave Rhaena a reassuring hug. Rhaella simply observed passively. 

"Come to the council meeting with me Rhaena," Rhaella suggested. She had grown tired of not having Rhaena by her side.

The two girls ventured to the Stone drum, the center of Dragonstone. Baela headed to the dragon pits in preparation.

Each sister took their place by the table. Jace glanced at Rhaella, eyeing the dress she wore.

"Is that new?" Jace whispered. Rhaella turned her head slightly in acknowledgment.

"Why?" Rhaella asked, a small smirk gracing her face. "Do you wish to trade clothes?"

Jace sighed in resignation before averting his attention back to the matter at hand.

"How fares Prince Daemon with our army?" Ser Alfred asks. The queen Rhaenyra seemed to physically coil at the question. She had grown weary at the mention of him, as had Rhaella.

"There has been no word, your grace." One of the maesters says. Rhaella glanced at Rhaena. Their father was practicing avoidance, as usual.

"Then we must send out all the dragons, overturn the Greens strongholds." Ser Alfred urges. 

He was often quick to speak out of turn, forgetting his place. But Rhaella did not exactly disagree. Had it been up to her, she would have done away with the greens army ages ago.

If only Aegarax would let her, that was.

"If dragons begin fighting dragons we only invite our own destruction," Rhaenyra said.

Rhaella's hand twitched at her side. 'All power demands sacrifice'

Ser Alfred chuckled bitterly in response. Jace's hand hovered atop his sword. Rhaella nudged him with the heel of her shoe. Slowly, he brought his hands back to either side of him.

"But your grace," Another lord spoke. "You have witnessed first hand how exposed you are."

Ser Alfred hummed in agreement. " Had Ser Erryk not arrived, you and the lady Rhaella would have been slain."

Quite the opposite, Rhaella had felt. Perhaps she would have sustained injuries, but she would have the two eyes of the invader clutched in the palm of her hand before the fact.

If only Ser Erryk had waited a while longer.

"Perhaps you should flee to somewhere safe, whilst we remain here." Lord Celtigar suggested.

"She shall do no such thing." Rhaella hurled out before she could control herself.

For watching the queen struggle amongst these idiots caused her patience to wain greatly. Why was she allowing such a thing, Rhaella could hardly understand.

"That would be treason, you are lucky you took it no further." Queen Rhaenyra said.

She stood up to leave abruptly, likely to her chambers. There was not much else for her to do.

"That concludes it, I suppose," Jace mutters out. Rhaella had grown bored of this routine.

"Come sister, let us ready your things." She said to Rhaena.

……….

RHAELLA WATCHED as Tyraxes and Stormcloud were ushered out in their crates. Rhaena held a look of nausea.

"It will be fine." Rhaella tried to assure her, although her flat tone was less than.

Baela walked up to them, embracing Rhaena.

"You have not left yet?" Rhaella asked. 

Baela shot Rhaella a look. "And miss Rhaena leave? I think not."

Rhaena grasped the hands of Baela. Rhaella stood off, a small pang of bitterness stirred within her. If only she could allow herself to be so free with affections.

"Go safely, sister." Baela wished.

"I will be safe enough," Rhaena said sharply. Rhaella crossed her arms,opting to keep her gaze on the young dragons.

"I'm sure you will be well-liked in the Vale." Rhaella said.

Baela hummed in agreement. "You may find yourself glad to be out of harm's way," Baela said.

It was not so condescending, but Baela could not understand. Such was the privilege of one born to a dragon.

"Do not coddle me Baela," Rhaena said bitterly. Baela looked to Rhaella for help but found no such relief.

"You do coddle, often in fact," Rhaella said shrugging.

"But I meant no insult," Baela said sincerely. She turned her head to the dragon egg chamber. "And here, I think is some consolation."

The sisters joined Queen to Rhaenyra by them. There, presented were four eggs each of them varying in color.

"But should all come to ruin, you shall bear our hope for the future," Rhaenyra said.

Rhaella stared at the eggs. In truth, she thought she had fed the last of Syrax's clutch to Aegarax.

'Ice and Fire' Rhaella felt a sharp pain in her head, causing her to hiss. She did not need to think too hard as to what had caused it.

"Are you alright?" Jace asked gently. Rhaella took a slight step back. 

"Ice and fire." She muttered. Jace frowned, stricken with confusion. Rhaella had once again returned to her strangeness.

Baela and Rhaena hug once more, a final goodbye. It was unclear when they would see each other again.

Rhaena hugged Rhaella as well, pulling her from the daze she was in.

"I shall miss you," Rhaella said. Rhaena's eyes watered.

"Then grant me this one favor," Rhaena said. Rhaella looked to Rhaena expectantly.

"Burn the letter, should longing become your enemy."

But how could Rhaella tell her that it already had? She would hold it in her hand for hours at a time before she drifted off to sleep.

"As you wish," Rhaella said. A lie.

When Rhaena and their young step-siblings had left, Rhaella went back to the topic of the previous council.

The queen was in an impossible situation. It was agony to be left in the dark as to what the Greens were plotting. 

Rhaella misliked not knowing things. A thought crossed her mind. Perhaps she could yet be useful to her grace—dragon or not.

"Your grace!" Rhaella sped up her pace to keep up with Rhaenyra. The queen turned to her. In all honesty, Rhaenyra was shocked that Rhaella was speaking to her. She had a thought that the girl fully resented her.

"Rhaella?" Queen Rhaenyra said. "Wha-."

"I wish to speak to you, it is urgent," Rhaella said hurridly

Rhaenyra led Rhaella into her chambers. Rhaella folded her hands in front of her, confident in her actions.

"You look quite pretty, might I say." Queen Rhaenyra commented. Rhaella tried to smile but it came out like a grimice.

"I have a proposition," Rhaella said. Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow.

"We are maintaining the blockade with my grandsire's fleets, are we not?" Rhaella asked.

Rhaenyra nodded. "It has been a great help."

Rhaella eyes down the multiple books on the side table, open to the pages of Queen Visenya.

"Visenya had a brilliant mind for warfare," Rhaella said. She did not shy away from the most bloodiest of affairs. It was admirable.

"I had hoped to draw inspiration possibly," Rhaenyra said.

Rhaella herself preferred the black bride, Rhaena Targaryen.

"Use the hunger of the smallfolk as a weapon," Rhaella suggested. "The people of Kings Landing are surely starving."

"That would be too cruel." Rhaenyra shook her head. Frustrated, Rhaella shut the book with a thud.

"No, it would be war," Rhaella responded. How could the queen not see a golden opportunity right under her nose?

Rhaenyra looked at Rhaella for a moment. Such a soft face, she had. Words of viciousness leaving her mouth was quite jarring to witness.

"What would you then?" Rhaenyra resided. "If you were placed in my position."

'Surround the red keep with all of our dragons.' Was the first thought that crossed her mind.

"Infiltration, someone who could be overlooked," Rhaella said. "There is much risk with multiple spies, it is better to send a single formidable one."

"And who would you propose?"Rhaenyra asked.

"Astris, my own handmaid."Rhaella could not think of anyone better suited for the task.

"No." Queen Rhaenyra shot her offer. 

"She is swift and meticulous," Rhaella argued. "Astris served the prince of Pentos before her servitude to me."

Rhaenyra considered this. She had never seen Rhaella so sure of anything.

"And you trust her, wholeheartedly?" Rhaenyra asked. Rhaella's eyes softened at the mere thought of her.

"It was she along with Mysaria who aided in my escape," Rhaella said.

"Help me see your plan then," Rhaenyra said. Eager, Rhaella sat down.

"Let Astris keep check on Aegon and the rest," Rhaella said. "She can report back anything that might be of use."

Rhaenyra hummed. "It is dangerous." 

"I am confident she can handle it, Aegon is little challenge," Rhaella said. Her hand twitched by her gown. Her true worry lay with Aemond, Astris would need to avoid him.

"And if something was to happen?" Rhaenyra asked.

"I shall take full responsibility, and act accordingly," Rhaella assured.

Queen Rhaenyra stood, smiling softly at Rhaella. It warmed her to see Rhaella so expressive,as it was so unlike her.

"You have your mother's mind, I think," Rhaenyra said. Rhaella blinked, averting her gaze to the floor. She could not know how to reply

The queen Rhaenyra moved past the silence. "Ensure you prepare Astris properly, I shall make arrangements."

.............

The boat was made ready for Astris's departure at dusk. The time had come and Rhaella's anxieties ate away at her.

The two girls stood in the outer corridor. Rhaella was sending her closest friend off to the vipers, and to what end? Gratification? She could privately admit this was both reckless and selfish.

Astris seemed to sense her lady's unease. Gently, she grabbed Rhaella's shaky hand.

"I can handle myself well enough, you know that," Astris said. Rhaella knew it, as she knew very well what Astris could do.

"You could still be hurt," Rhaella said softly. 

Astris smiled in response, a deep blush coloring her cheeks. "The Gods shall watch over me."

Rhaella scoffed. The Gods?

"I want you to make note of any green council member with influence," Rhaella said. In addition, she had entrusted Mysaria with maintaining communication. Rhaella wished to know every detail in the Red Keep, down to the gossip of maids. She was uniquely interested in Aemond's daily routine as well.

"Yes, my lady," Astris said. Rhaella's lips twitched into a smile. 

"Be wary of Aegon, he is a cunt," Rhaella added.

Astris raised a dark brow. "I shall do my best."

The boat sails dropped, ready to venture into the waters.

"Will you be alright, my lady?" Astris glanced at Rhaella. The energy surrounding Rhaella had not subsided, it merely seemed to increase. It was all too apparent that the Targaryen's girl mind was beginning to fracture.

"We shall see," Rhaella said. 

Astris began to leave with a small curtsy, but before she went any further, Rhaella pulled her in, placing a firm kiss on her lips.

"I need you to do whatever is necessary," Rhaella whispered to her. The Black haired girl looked at her with wide eyes. Astris understood her lady completely and would act accordingly.

Rhaella watched her leave, a feeling of emptiness swallowed her. She walked along the outer courts of Dragonstone, wondering if this was a fool's plan.

In the distance, the roars of a dragon could be heard. Aegarax's distinct calls shot right through her.

Maybe he was upset she had neglected to visit him with a dragon egg. It had been some time since Rhaella had seen him.

Rhaella's walk to the dragon mount seemed shorter this time around. Looking up to the caves, she began to climb. It was only when she had ventured halfway up did she she a tall figure above her.

She cursed, nearly losing her footing. What person would be daring enough to find themselves in a wild dragon's cave?

Rhaella was not too worried though, whoever was there would surely meet their end. The discontented roars of Aegarax only grew louder.

"Lykirī, Aegarax!" Rhaella tried but to no avail. She looked around for the intruder once more but found nothing that could irritate the dragon.

Whatever High Valyrian she spoke had almost no effect. Aegarax crawled out of the cave, on full display to Rhaella. His black scales reflected the moonbeams present.

"Skoros iksos ziry?" Rhaella said in a hush.'What is it?' Aegarax settled into a grumble, his head was restless.

Slowly, Rhaella reached out her hand to him. But she was met with an open-mouthed roar, causing her to jerk back immediately.

Taking cover, Aegarax took flight from the cave and into the skies. Away from her and with him he took the hopes of progress.

Perhaps it was one great jest. She had kidded herself into truly believing she had achieved something of significance. 

Forever dragonless, a false Targaryen.

[raileurta]

Alright you know the drill I'm back with my mad ravings so strap in.

First and foremost the new au thing, you continue to amaze me and your work is as usual and immense source of artistic inspiration for me.

Secondly, my guy

SAVE SOME BRILLIANCE FOR THE REST OF US!

And third and most importantly as someone who struggles low empathy myself I have decided that this miko definitely took to projecting onto to villains and other worldy creatures and especially robots. After all for a little girl growing up told there's something wrong with her, growing up pretending to be human just to avoid being treated like a freak, what other options are there.

I can imagine her letting her darker emotions consume her and leaning into her "evilness" as you called it, leaning into being the monster, villain, the freak just to feel some scrap of control. Imagine her becoming more and more volatile, more violent as she grows, young girls can be so cruel after all, until eventually it goes to far.

Her parents keep her out of juvie and instead she's tossed into an asylum to "get help". It doesn't make much difference to her, this is what happens to villains in the end, they're locked away where they can't hurt anyone or their killed. Simple as that. Her time there doesn't do much to make her feel any more normal but it gives her time to slow down and think and when she leaves its with a new perspective. If she can play the villain and she can play human, why can't she give playing good a chance after all it feels kinda nice breaking out of archetype.

I didn't mean this to get this long sorry.

First of all thank you you're so sweet! I feel honored to be a source of inspiration to you.

Secondly 🥺💕

Thirdy I also can relate. I struggle with low empathy/sympathy myself to. Kinda venting here a little but I feel like I'm not human sometimes. I don't feel bad when someone dies I don't know, I don't feel bad when my friends are crying just uncomfortable, I just...... don't feel bad. I'm not doing this out malice it's just how I feel. Obviously I act like this makes me sad around people because I don't want them to feel bad. My moral judgement says this is what I should do so I do it, nothing less nothing more. So chill anyways I project this onto Miko and Miko projects this onto other non-humans.

You get me! That's what I was thinking along the lines for this au. When Miko was younger she definitely started doing bad things simply because she didn't know any better. But once she learned what this was expected of her she leaned into it much more. She's a kid and she just wants to do something right for once. Once thrown into the mental hospital she started getting her punk attitude and a core of punk is going against the norm. People expect her to be bad so she won't be to spite them.

I can also picture one day her pulling Optimus aside and talking about her having ASPD before the emotional explosion. Miko asks him to stop her if she ever tries to hurt people. She doesn't want to be the next Megatron, he's lame. Plus she doesn't want to hurt her friends. Even if she can't technically feel bad for killing them she still wants to keep them around. They're fun to hangout with and she hate to lose that to an impulsive decision.

Don't apologize for anything. I like long asks, it fuels the undiagnosed autism my therapist says I have.

[tokintormin]

other bits about that au where the comic takes place

they would be considered spoilers but there's a high chane i wont finish it so i put it out in text.

Velvette met Valentino first, Valentino tried to hunt her down for using his poison as a love potion.

They connected because they grew to respect each other's determination and wits

Each of the Vees has a connection with femininity

Velvette can cast spells and do magic because in life she was called a witch, and she likes to become what people call her to spite them

Vox used to be Valentino and Velvette's rival

Vox had met Valentino before. He wanted to check what made Valentino rise to power so quickly

Valentino and Vox had a falling out and got back together years later

Vox didn't like Velvette at first because he didn't like women

His dislike for women is rooted in his guilt

Vox can't stand when people hide things from him but he himself does that a lot

Vox struggle with his femininty, as a man who grew up and lived in a society that pushed the idea that women are inferior and men are supposed to be the conquerors who're capable of moving mountains. He spent his life doing things in a "womanly" way to survive, and it caused major insecurities.

Vox hates the fact he's emotional, treating it as a major flaw

Angel and Valentino have some emotional issues in common

Charlie and Vox have some emotional issues in common

Velvette dislikes Carmilla because she assumes Carmilla is like the women in her childhood

Velvette and Cherri have some emotional troubles in common

Angel doesn't fear Valentino, nor he hates him

Angel has a bit of a crush on Valentino but never shows it because he finds the idea of dating an Overlord ridiculous + their relationship is strained due to Valentino being his pimp

Cherri doesn't like Valentino, believing he enables abusers and nurtures abusive environment

Valentino doesn't force Angel to stay, Angel feels obligated to stay though

Angel went into sex work because he thought it would be "fun" but quickly faced the grim reality of it

Angel went in to sex work partially because of his self-destructive tendencies and the want to engage in dangerous activities

Angel still faces abuse from his clients despite Valentino doing his job

The reason valentino can't leave is because sex industry is on a much larger scale in Hell than on Earth and has a much higher demand, it's everywhere

On a power scale, the three Vees together are equal to one average Overlord

The Vees own souls because they became a part of the Overlord-sinner system in hell and to be able to survive against other overlords (take others' souls or lose yours to others)

Narratively, Hell's system enables and encourages their greed and pride. Instead of facing their sins, their worst tendencies get rewarded by the way the power balance works in the Pride ring. Facing someone who'd stop them and remind them they can't get away with everything should help them remember who they used to be. (i.e. Charlie)

The Vees aren't good people

Alastor's very good at getting under Vox's skin because of Vox's specific insecurities.

Most of disdain Vox feels toward Charlie is his self-projection onto her

[sigritandtheelves]

All Along, Like Fire (Part 6)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Mature | 2.9k words | MSR, AU

A/N: I’m sorry this part took so long, I’ve been working at it bit by bit for like 2 months 😣

—

September, 1995

Washington D.C.

Diana Fowley knew that her life was in danger. She’d failed in monumental fashion, and she could insist to her dying breath that it hadn’t been her fault—that Fox’s stumbling onto the DAT tape happened while she was out of town and there’s nothing she could have done to stop it, but it wouldn’t matter. They would crush her like an empty soda can if she ceased to be useful, and especially if she proved a liability instead.

The city was under a late-summer heat wave that made the air feel even thicker than the tension around her alone. Violence seemed imminent as tempers so easily flared with the temperature. Diana paced the apartment she shared with Fox, a man that she told herself she still loved, despite the lies between them: her secrets, his shifting devotions. His basketball peeked out from the closet and his dirty clothes were in the hamper. Diana picked up one of his shirts and fingered the ratty collar above its FBI logo. She held it to her nose and felt a wave of sadness, of longing. He was a good man, and she’d lost him, let him slip away from both herself and the project she’d hoped he would come to embrace. But in the last year, the deceptions had become too much. She’d had to spend more and more time away in order to live with herself, and after the plan for Scully’s abduction had backfired, she knew that he had crossed some kind of invisible barrier. He would never be hers again. Everything she had done to try and put a wedge between him and his partner had only drawn them closer together.

Diana had a right to be jealous, didn’t she? In spite of her lies? At least she hadn’t fallen in love with someone else. She sat on the bed worrying her lower lip between her teeth. She knew she’d lost her husband, but perhaps she could still make it through this with her life.

What she needed was leverage.

—

Farmington, NM

The public library had three computers connected to the internet for public use. Mulder and Scully sat huddled around one of them, carefully wording an email to the Gunmen from a temporary account.

“Where should we meet?” Mulder kept his voice low.

“I don’t want to put the Hosteens in any more danger,” Scully said. “Maybe Albuquerque?” She oriented herself to the map in her head. “Or we could head north into Colorado.”

Mulder nodded. “Yeah. Get the map.”

They decided on a tourist town called Pagosa Springs, where they could blend in like late-season vacationers. “Hey, if things go downhill, we can always hide out in the mountains,” Mulder said.

“Too bad I forgot to pack my skis.”

He smiled at her, but it was only a half-smile. They both knew how dangerous this was—how much was a stake. They had aligned all their pieces on the board, and now it was the other team’s turn. He just hoped Skinner was really on their side.

—

FBI Headquarters

Everybody wanted a damned meeting, had a plan, had a dog in this fight, it seemed. Walter Skinner was giving himself a headache with all this jaw clenching. He was everyone’s middleman, though he was just as vulnerable to the powers circling them all like sharks. This playing field was full of snares and trapdoors.

“Agent Fowley, you said you had reason to believe your life was in jeopardy? Why not go to your own AD about this?”

The woman seated across from his desk maintained perfect composure, but cleared her throat before answering. “My work has put me in a somewhat compromised position—something I’m sure you can understand, Sir.”

The eyes were so deliberate. Skinner frowned, not liking either her implications or the fact that she seemed to have a lot more information than he realized. “How do you mean?”

“I’m afraid that Fox’s acquisition of the D.O.D files has put more than a few lives at risk, my own included. I was out of town when the DAT tape was handed over to him, but certain… factions,” she paused to choose her words carefully, “seem to think I can be held accountable.” Again, she looked directly at him. “They’re willing to set more than an underground train fire to keep that information in check.”

Another jaw clench. That cigarette smoking bastard had been in here again today trying to weasel information out of him, and Skinner had no doubt that there would be more bodies if the tape, and the information on it, didn’t reappear soon. “I didn’t realize you were involved at all,” he said.

“Not with the tape directly, but it’s been made clear to me that I need to protect it,” she said cryptically. “I have to get in touch with Fox. It’s essential that I arrange a meeting soon.”

Skinner grunted. “Well, you’re in luck on that front.”

Diana’s eyebrows raised. “You know where he is?”

“Not exactly, but I know someone who does.” He eyed the brunette suspiciously—so cool, always—and wondered if it were safe to bring her to a meeting with her own husband. It was a risk he thought he'd have to take if they were going to make any kind of bargain. “Meet me at Dulles tomorrow morning at the United counter. Seven o’clock.”

Diana nodded briskly and stood. “Thank you, sir.”

—

Pagosa Springs, CO

Mulder and Scully sat at the back of Brenda’s Diner, which looked like the kind of restaurant Cracker Barrel was trying to be. The tables were glass-covered wagon wheels, and there were more than a few cowboy hats between their booth and the door. The two agents barely looked away from the entrance to sip their coffees.

“There,” Mulder said when he spotted Skinner’s bald head and glasses. Then he stiffened when he saw the brunette with him. “Shit.” He reached under the table to quickly squeeze Scully’s knee. “Diana is with him.”

Scully forced herself to breathe deeply, to keep her anger tucked inside her, despite everything they now knew. She watched Mulder’s face as Diana approached, as he bottled his own rage into a careful mask.

Skinner spoke first, nodding at them and sliding into the booth. “Agents.”

Diana reached out to touch Mulder’s arm. “Hello, Fox.”

He didn’t meet her gaze or reciprocate her touch, but instead focused on his boss. Diana glanced at Scully only long enough to take note of her husband’s protective position and body language toward the other woman. She sat beside Skinner, and the wooden table was like a vast ocean between the two parties.

“First,” Mulder began, “you should know that we’ve read everything in the files.” He looked pointedly at Diana, who paled, but to her credit, didn’t flinch.

Skinner nodded. “I had assumed as much, based on your prolonged absence.”

“But we're not the only ones who have read it. If their plan is to kill us, all of that information will go public. We have multiple contingencies in place.”

"And you don't think the men we're dealing with could hunt all of those down?"

"No," Mulder said, displaying a confidence he was only half sure he felt. "Not all of them."

The older man grunted in acknowledgement.

“We want to go home,” Scully explained. “And we want to keep our jobs. But there are things we learned from that tape that we can’t pretend we don’t know. Personal things.”

Skinner cleared his throat, as if to speak, but Diana beat him to it. “I realize that you’ll want to distance yourself as much as you can from me,” she said to Mulder specifically, her eyes pleading, "Especially after the things you read." She couldn't bring herself to look at his partner. “But I can also help you make your bargain with them.”

Mulder had tried to keep his calm, but his anger bubbled up beyond his self-control. “Diana, why are you here?” he asked in a sharp whisper. “Are you representing the project’s interests? You’re gonna take our bargaining chips back to that smoking son-of-a-bitch so he can twist us around even further?”

“No.” Her voice was firm and steady; she had her own anger to contend with. “You don’t know what they have on me, Fox. You don’t know what they threatened me with, how I worked to keep you safe—keep you alive—by stopping you from knowing too much.”

Mulder’s jaw dropped open for a moment before he barked out a humorless laugh. “So that was your role in this sham of a marriage? Gatekeeper of what I was allowed to know?”

“Partially,” she said, perfectly frank. “Their plan was to bring you in slowly.”

“Bring him in?” Skinner asked.

“To the project. He’d always been slated to take his father’s place.” She locked eyes with Mulder, and there was something pleading and earnest in her gaze. “Fox, whatever you may think about the things you read—about me and about the project—no matter how horrible they sound, you have to know that the goal has always been to save humanity. The project has always been about helping people survive.”

“Which people?” Scully asked, her voice sharp. “The women you abducted and rendered infertile? The children and family members you took as collateral? Or the hapless people you’ve tortured and experimented on in the name of ‘progress’? How are you any different than the Nazi scientists you’ve collaborated with?”

“I’m not the devil here,” Diana said quietly. “I didn’t devise these methods or decide who would suffer.”

“No, you just carried out their orders,” Mulder said. Their voices were hushed, but some restaurant patrons had noticed the tension at their table. Mulder sat back and took a sip of his coffee.

“Look,” Skinner said, “we could argue about this all afternoon, but we need to decide—“

“Tell me about the babies,” Scully interrupted, unable to contain the question any longer, to let the conversation move too far away from her burning need to know. “The children. Do I—“ her voice caught. “Are there babies out there with my—“ and she couldn’t finish.

“Yes,” Diana said. “Just one viable specimen at the moment, an eight-month-old in California.”

The breath went out of her lungs, and Scully squeezed her napkin so hard, it was shredding to pieces. Specimen. The word was like a hot fist crushing her heart. Mulder’s face had gone grey, and even Skinner looked stricken. Her baby—genetically, at least. An experiment. A specimen.

“Is it… okay?” This from Mulder, who was also trying to find words. Scully heard the subtext in his voice: is it human?

Diana fidgeted, like she didn’t have time for this, like she wanted to talk about more important things. How she’d weasel out of this situation with her own life, for example. She sighed. “Yes, for the most part. It’s a girl.”

“What do you mean for the most part?” Scully asked. It’s a girl, it’s a girl, it’s a girl, she heard over and over in her head. She couldn’t help it: she thought of pink blankets and solemn blue eyes looking out of a round face. At eight months the baby would be crawling, smiling, almost pulling herself to stand. Then Scully imagined cold surgical gloves reaching down to pick up the child and hold her with curiosity and detachment instead of love, to poke her with needles and test her in a cold white place.

“The child has an induced condition that manifests as a form of anemia. She requires regular treatment from a specialist.” Diana’s voice was deadpan, but Mulder and Scully both caught what she was saying. A “specialist,” meaning a project doctor. They locked eyes in understanding.

Skinner, however, was confused. “Induced condition? What does that mean?”

Mulder turned to him, his voice low. “They made her sick on purpose,” he said. It wasn’t a question, and Diana said nothing to either confirm or deny.

“So they can keep her on a leash,” Scully added. “So they can keep anyone who tries to love her on a leash.” She looked across the table and met Diana’s eyes. The fury inside her was grounding her, keeping her still, like ice-water, but inside she was screaming. “Isn’t that right?”

Diana gave the barest of nods and looked down at her hands. Silence around the table grew heavy, broken only when their waitress came to refill their coffee cups. The woman must have sensed the awkwardness, because she left without a word.

“I want what they took from me,” Scully said after a long moment. “All of it. Every strand of my DNA, even the ones in your specimen.”

With that, she stood and walked out of the restaurant.

—

Outside, back to the setting sun over the San Juan mountains, Scully leaned against the hood of their rental car. She wanted a cigarette. Barring that, she wanted to smash something into pieces and scream into the wind. But when Mulder came up beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder, she just deflated. Her head drooped, and she stared at the dust and rock of the parking lot that flecked her leather boots.

“You okay?”

She shrugged one shoulder, not sure she could ever really be okay again. “What did Skinner say?”

Mulder had shoved his hands into his pockets, but he leaned his left side along the length of hers—a gesture of comfort that maintained the boundary between them. “He said they’re going to want a deal. Well,” he clarified, “Diana explained that our silence wouldn’t be enough, not if you really want… everything back.”

Scully reached up and touched the scar at the back of her neck. “They already have me on a leash too, don’t they? What else could they want?”

There was a long pause, and when Mulder didn’t answer, she looked up at him. He had a look of far-off anguish, of dread.

“Mulder.”

He chewed his lip for a moment, and then said, “My work.”

Oh. Scully swallowed hard. So the price for the truth was the power to do anything with it—the power to prosecute these men, to hold them accountable. “Your badge, too?”

He shook his head. “Just the files.”

Scully nodded. “They mean to drive us apart, then.”

She felt him turn to look at her in the dimming light. “What do you mean?”

The breeze coming from the mountain chilled her, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “They know I could never ask you to do that, Mulder. Or they should know it. If you give up your work, our work, you’ll come to resent me, if you don’t already.”

He tried to speak, but Scully cut him off.

“And if you let them keep my…” She couldn’t say future children, couldn’t say baby. “…ova,” she swallowed, “and everything they create from them in exchange for the X-Files…”

“How could you ever stay with me?”

She nodded again. “The thing is, I don’t even want children right now. That wasn’t on my radar, not for a while, anyway, because I have so much other work to do. I’m committed to our work too, Mulder, and I know it’s not compatible with a baby. I mean, maybe in a few years but…” She was rambling, but God, it was impossible, wasn’t it? Every choice seemed wrong, seemed designed to push them apart and alter their lives irrevocably. She chuffed out a humorless laugh. “I guess they’ve kind of won, haven’t they?” She couldn’t look at him, imagining the gears churning his thoughts into a steady resentment toward her.

He was shaking his head. He didn’t want it to be true any more than she did, but they were only two people standing against a tidal wave of power and corruption. “They can’t have won,” Mulder said, but his voice came out defeated.

She looked toward the restaurant, where she assumed Skinner and Diana were waiting for their reply, two sore thumbs in their east-coast suits drinking tepid coffee. “How long do we have to decide?”

“Diana said we should make a call tonight. They know where we are now. We need to play our hand while we can.”

Scully wanted to tell him that he should decide, that he should take this terrible decision away from her and leave her alone to lick her wounds. But of course that wouldn’t be fair to him. She watched his face, silhouetted by the setting sun, and ached for him, for things to have been different between them—no conspiracies or wives or impossible ethical dilemmas. When he looked at her, met her eyes, she thought she felt the same ache coming off him in waves.

“I love you,” he said without warning, and it made her heart skip and slam against her ribcage—warm and unexpected. “I could never resent you for wanting back what they stole from you. Never.”

Scully felt tears filling her eyes, and she bit the inside of her cheek to try to stop them from falling. “Okay,” she said, voice raspy.

“I love you,” he told her again. She was trying to believe him, beginning to, maybe. He reached out a hand to hold her cheek, and it almost undid her. She sucked in a quick breath, a half sob, and a tear escaped down her cheek. He wiped it with his thumb.

Her fingers found his against her cheek, and she turned her head just slightly to kiss his palm. Though he’d said it first, she was terrified to tell him how she felt. But now was the time for bravery, for playing their hands, wasn’t it? Scully closed her eyes and concentrated on the sensation of his skin on hers. “I love you,” she told him back.

He let out a breath into the cooling air that brushed her face. “Good,” he said. “That’s good.” He leaned his forehead down to touch hers. “They won’t force us apart, Scully. We’ll find another way.”

Despite all her rational objections and her skeptical nature, she believed him.

—

End Chapter 6

Go to Part 7

[stuckybarton]

Heads Under Water II

Summary: In which you find your epiphany. Character: K'uk'ulkan/Namor x Atlantean Descendant! Filipino! Female Reader. Word Count: 1,360 Chapter Warnings: Mention of Smoking. Mention of Death.

Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Join the Library (no longer do taglist you can just turn on notif here)

Part II:

You did hate any bodies of water—when you are forced to be in the middle of it.

But it was a whole different story to be able to just settle yourself by the sands, watching the waves to and fro—almost daring them to come for you. It was fucked up, if you were to be completely honest with yourself, but it made you miss home for once and you wanted to look at something that reminds you of home—as terrible of a phobia it might give you.

Taking another hit of your vape pen, you had inquired Shuri if it was allowed before and she had seemed alright with it for as long as you did so in an open space and away from her mother’s eyes (fear of you influencing her somehow the major worry). You allowed the smoke to cover your vision for a moment, letting the events of the day slowly wash away from your mind.

Aside from the numerous projects you would be helping Shuri out with, you were volunteered into helping out a neighboring nation’s infrastructure and eventually led to roam parts of Wakanda and it was what led you to be in this very position that you know want to be something you would frequent from now on during your stay.

Sitting on a tree stump in the middle of the beach, the cool winds flowing against your skin, and the warm and rather minty sting of the smoke against your lung—it was, perfect. A perfect way to end the night. Lips clasped onto the vape pen, but before you could take another hit your eyes moved to the waters at the sudden change of the waves.

A head, just above waters had practically had you screaming in terror but the man was gone long before you could think if it was a real person or if your mind was playing tricks on you. Shaking your head, you stood up, believing you have finally had a long day.

But as the waves moved, it had become more violent even without the change of winds or the presence of a storm.

Before you could leave, the sound of your phone was quick to distract you—it was Tony and you were uncertain if it would be a good thing or a bad thing to talk to him right now. Eventually on the third annoying ring, you had answered the call and the sight of your boss’ hologram had you falling back onto your previous seat, readying for what he has to say.

“So how was the first day?” He inquired to which you gave him an empty look but said nothing. “Caught you in an awful time, Y/N?”

“No Tony, I just got done with work.” You sighed relenting and decided to give the man a break. “I’m making progress on the first day.” You continued, taking another much needed hit if you were to deal with him.

“You really need to stop with the smoking, you know that shit still fucks with your lungs.” He points out to which you chose to ignore and taking another hit just to spite him.

“Tony, we’re practically the same age at this point, so I don’t think it’s a good idea to have you act like a father to me.” You snort.

“Sometimes I wonder why I still bother with you.” He muttered looking away for a moment before turning his attention right back to you. “If you need anything, and I mean anything, please let me know and I’ll send out someone to help you out, okay?”

“I can handle things here, Tony.” You reassured your boss. “How’s your own progress in New York?” You inquired right back.

“Same old, same old.” He muttered. This was the thing with Tony, he loved to be nosy with anyone else’s business, but not his own. He kept his card close and that was one of the many reasons you could never truly trust him. He would say one thing and do another more times than you could truly handle.

But the straw that finally broke the camel’s back was when it was your creation that caused the death of more people than you could even attempt to count all those years ago. You had told him time and time again that your machine was still in the early stages and should not be used yet—he didn’t listen, he disregarded your warnings and lives were paid as a consequence of it all.

A guilt that wasn’t truly your own.

You could still remember the faces of family members during the court hearing. All blaming you for something you did not have a hand in. It was nightmare that you never truly woke up from even as the years have passed and everyone else had moved on.

Many still wondered why you stayed—you even wonder at times, but as you find yourself here in Wakanda, you might finally change your mind. Even after all the things Tony has put your through, he had helped you reached your full potential that you would never have if you stayed in the Philippines, if you remained a Professor that barely made ends meet.

He had given you a chance when no one would even bat an eye at you.

But owing someone has its limits. As you stayed in Wakanda and all the vision they have for you, you were slowly finding your own in this moment.

“Okay.” You relent, no longer giving the effort to press him.

“That’s weird.”

“What is?”

“You would usually annoy me for an answer by now.”

You said nothing, watching Tony’s hologram move closer to you, leaning in to look at you closer—far too close for your own comfort (even if he was a hologram).

“I’m heading to bed, Tony. Good Night.” You muttered instead when you didn’t break from his stare.

You didn’t let him speak, hanging up on him and once again staring at the waters. Once again seeing the head before you decided you’ve had enough for the night and headed back to your bedroom. ~ “You look good in a dress, Doctor.” You wanted to believe that Everett Ross was having a foot-in-mouth reaction the first moment you’ve opened the door to your room when he knocked. He looked surprised by his own sentiment as he refused to meet your eyes.

You blushed at his sentiment. In the rare chances that you had met with the man back in New York, you were always wearing “work” clothes which consisted of jeans and a sweatshirt—or on a professional setting a simple pant suit. This was—as far as you could remember, the first time in a long while that you had something a little more—feminine on.

You felt a little more comfortable as the both of you now walked your way towards the throne room with the Dora Milaje escorting the both of you. You wanted to think it was the more about feeling empowered with all was said and done. Working with a woman instead of another man somehow does it for you.

“We will also be meeting the King of Talokan for today.” Agent Ross had pointed out the closer you both were to the throne room.

“Who?”

“It’s a long story.” He points out.

You accepted his answer knowing it might just be so. You know your geography as much as the next guy but never once have you ever heard of a country by such a name. Was it as much as a secluded country here in Africa as Wakanda was?

Eventually as you both have made your way inside, you were greeted with three beings that were far different from what you would expect. Two out of the three had blue skin and from the looks of it, some sort of breather covering their mouth and nose. But the man that stood tall in the middle wasn’t normal either—the wings on his feet were far too much of an indicator of it.

What the hell have you gotten yourself into?

[blueminnies-blog]

Mansae | Choi seungcheol

☆ミ Every day in my dreams,you put your arms in mine.

Summary: Seungcheol having a hard time making his classmate Seoyun falling in love with him. ( ft. Seoyun's friend Nabi, Mingyu, Wonwoo )

Pairing : Seungcheol x oc

Genre : She fell first then lost her feelings, he fell last but harder, high school!au, enemies to lovers.

Warning : cursing, pet names ( darling, sweetheart, .. ), a little angst, mentioning of crowd, rushed at the end a bit ^^.

W/c : 4k

Note : This is for caratland event on seventeen songs, and that's my fic ever! so I'm thrilled ＼(^^)／

" So which one you gonna date ? "Nabi asked while packing her suitcase.

" Neither of them," I answered briefly, zipping the suitcase.

" the fuck seoyun !"

I shrugged with a straight face. " Sorry, my heart didn't beat for neither of them, nabi,"

" Then it must be an idiot like its owner." Her brow raised." Who on the earth won't fall for Jeon wonwoo or Choi seungcheol? " she folded her arms.

" it's me, nabi. besides, i hate seungcheol." I shoved my hands in my pockets.

" Then date wonwoo! He is the cool, quiet kid. He wo– "

" no,no,No dating— stop talking about this stupid subject," I snapped, slamming the doors of the wardrobe," So shut the fuck up and don't forget to pack another panties cause I won't lend you mine when you lose yours like you did last time" sticking my tounge out teasingly before leaving the room .

" DON'T NEED YOURS ARROGENT BITCH !!", she gave me the finger.

I returned back and leaned against the door's jamb. " Nabi, darling , you're the only bitch here and to be more specific mingyu's bitch not me cause i didn't even hold a guy's hand "

I really enjoyed the fact that nabi gets annoyed easily when I tease her about her relationship with mingyu. She didn't hesitate to throw a pillow at my face as a" shut up," so I picked it up and threw it back on her, announcing the start of our pillows fight.

Such a normal day in my life with nabi, my middle school friend, i ran to know her since moving to their neighborhood 8 years ago. same middle and high schools now, that's why we know each other pretty well.

She was the loud one that knew the entire world, not only people at the school and in spite of the big difference in our personalities. I totally adored how she is kind-hearted, pure, and selfless, not like the other at our school.

Nabi was my no.1 supporter and protecter from any bullying, or at least that's what I thought till some day!

Even when nabi started dating mingyu two years ago, everything was quite the same. Nothing changed a lot other than she would send more time kissing/making out with him instead of finishing her projects and tasks.In my opinion mingyu was not that bad he was the ' okay ',I'm not going to talk about the fact that I sometimes wanted to slap him or even threw him from a claft, because he stole some of her attention that used to be ALL MINE :)

It was 7 in the morning when the sunlight sneaked through the blinds. I got up from the bed, stretched my body for a few minutes, then looked at the dead body of nabi still sleeping like she didn't in a million years. I chuckled at the way she was lying on her tummy, and the saliva wetted the pillow under her head , garbed my phone from the drawer beside the bed and snapped some pictures for her to blackmail her later.

" Hey woman, wake up," I poked the exposured part of her tummy.

She whined, pushing my hand away, turning her back away." Stop—"

" Get up, lazy ass we have to be ready by 9," I said , started tickling her.

" Stop! Stop! I'm awake, "she shouted, throwing the pillow at me.

I giggled while pushing her closer to the edge of the bed. She let out a loud groan, " PARK SEOYUN! I WILL KILL YOU "

I ran for my life because she wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of me ." I'll prepare the breakfast in the time you take a shower,"

" I hate you.." she whined, burying her head back onto the pillow.

After 15 minutes, nabi finished showering. We sat for breakfast talking about the things we're going to in 3 days of school trip . It's our second time since attending high school, which, by the way our last year, so I wanted to make it special since I'm not sure if I'll be able to see her more often like now because we made our minds to study different majors.

"Seoyun— please," she begged.

" No! You're going there to have fun just.you.and.I not to sneak out in the dark to lay in mingyu's arms"

" PLEEEEEASE " her eyes went round like the little puppy.

" Just one night !! I'm begging you .. I'll stay the other two with you," she promised.

" Fine," I huffed.

" YAH FINALLY!!" shouted enthusiastically, " I LOVE YOU SEOYUN !! "

" I don't," I replied.

" Stop, i know you're lying," she laughed.

" put a fucking sock in your mouth, grap your suitcase and hurry up we will be late " i informed.

" YES,SIR!" she said, thrilling.

We took the bus straight to the school, 10 minutes and we were there. a lot of students summoning up in front of the school's gate,that's started to freak me out a little bit , I'd always hated the idea of socializing with people, but nabi gave me the courage to stop being more introverted than needed and try to open up a little bit since I wanna be a doctor and I'll be dealing with maybe tens of people daily.

We both get off the bus, carrying our suitcases. I was maintaining calm expression on my face, feeling confident in myself till the moment our eyes accidentally met, the moment of eye contact from across the crowd that magically blurs everyone out of the world. it's just us.

God ! Why is he still existing? Why are the dinosaurs extincted, and he's still alive— and why the hell is he checking me out his stupid cow eyes ? I really wanna pock his two with my fingers, so he never sees the light again.

I turned looked away, muttering all the cursing words I learned and know in my entire life. The only thing that I was relieved about is that I won't see his ugly face the entire trip as we are going to stay in separate buildings.

"My dear students, please gather up here. I've something important to say." That was Mr Jung's voice, the headmaster.

" So I've bad and good news. With which one should I start ?"

" The bad one," some student said.

" Unfortunately, our buildings' reservation was canceled due to a short circuit that caused a small fire but fortunately was controlled, and no one was injured .." he explained, and I could hear the sighs of frustration from all the people around me.

" And where is the good news here ?" questioned another student.

" Well, we managed reserving a small hostel so we all don't miss the fun," The whole crowd started bouncing and cheering in excitement, I was happy too, a little anxious at the same time, i didn't wanna have any partners other than nabi, but unfortunately what I fear happened..

" Now let me pair you alphabetically seeing we don't have many space for 24 students "

' No.. no..this can't be real... It's a nightmare, and I'll wake up now.. I'm sure. ' I was losing every single brain cell I own in my mind the minute I heard, Mr. jung saying the word ' alphabetically ', I can’t end up with that seungcheol..

" Park seoyun— did you hear what I've said ?" My thoughts were intruptured by Mr Jung.

" S.. sorry.. I was a little distracted.. "

" No problem, so you'll be with seungcheol for this trip, okay ? " he gave me the widest smile ever literally knew nothing about my suffering after what he's said.

"Well, well, well, the jerk is here—" he was heading to me with a lifted head and all puff like he won in the war.

“Sweetheart, I know I’m your favorite. no need to pretend.” he smirked.

" Favorite! Huh,never Choi seungcheol in Your.Wildest.Dreams. " I pointed my thumb at his face.

" Just watch me make it happen, honey," the pet name made me seethe.

I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. Why am I the unlucky one here ? Like everyone seemed to enjoy the whole pairing thing, even nabi ended up with the stupid mingyu. I don't wanna be dramatic, but 72 hours with seungcheol are unbearable...

" Will you stay there till the rest of your life? Move ! " his hands grabbed my suitcase.

" Don't act like a gentleman! " I protested.

He turned to face me."I AM— since my birth, sweetie."

"Huh,whatever, wanna sit by the window," I raced as he placed both suitcases in the overhead parcel.

"Let me open it for you, darling." His hand crossed me reaching the window handle and opening it.

"I can do it myself and stop calling me pet names !! " demandly voiced.

" I refuse —" he said.

"That mouth of yours does nothing but talk dumb shit?"

He leaned slightly toward whipering, with a small smirk made on his face . "You wanna know what else it does?"

The warmth that radiated off his body sent chills down mine as I locked eyes with him, I gazed into his eyes unintentionally for seconds, they held the hue of tea-stained lace, cozy, soft, and delicate, with wash of gentle brown against the harsh dark shadows of millions of stars. That was the prettiest thing I've seen for a long time.

" My eyes are fabulous, aren't they ?" he interpreted the silence.

" N..no..they are pretty normal." I glanced away quickly to look through the window.

" it's obviously a lie, but okay "

I didn't reply, and the silence filled our space for minutes. As sight of his eyes cast was sat unintentionally in unlimited loops in the cogs of my mind.

This daydreaming didn't last long as my head started spinning, I've had motion-sickness since I was a kid, and out of the pocket, I forgot to pack my medicine.

I facepalmed, tried to regulate my breathing pattern, and drink some soda as my mum taught me, but everything seemed fruitless.

" I can give you a shoulder if you want,"he suggested ,lightly tapping his chest as a ' sleep here '.

" I'm fine..only a few minutes, and everything will be okay," I stuttered, drewing my lower lip between my teeth.

I felt his fingertips gently sneaking into the hairline at the back of my neck, guiding me to rest on his chest. Somehow, I threw in the towel and allowed my body to dive into his arms. As His cologne devoured every single cell in my lungs, that seductive scent with a burst of deep, tart blackberry juice, blending with the freshness of just-gathered bay brambly woods sent me to Utopia.

" Just relax, seoyunna," he whispered softly near my ears.

"I hate you..."

"You hated me. Big difference, sweetheart," he corrected, wrapping me and pulling me, and I spontaneously nodded off.

I finally woke up to a vision of him and our faces inches apart, I freaking out and jerked back " WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE AND WHY ARE YOU SLEEPING ON THE BED BESIDE ME !? "

" Calm down, yunna. we arrived two hours ago, and as a gentleman, I didn't wake you up, so I carried you and your suitcase to our room. " he laughed loudly on my freaked expression,holding his tummy.

" Two Hours!! " I let some mocking chuckles as i pulled my hair back, " Do tell me everybody saw you holding me ? "

" Yes, they did " he simply replied.

" Fuck—"

tipping my chin to make me look into his eyes. " You should at least thank me for not waking you up, yunna,"

" I WON'T THANK SUCH A PERVET JERK WHO USES PEOPLE TO FULFILL HIS DESIRES!! " I clenched my teeth,pushing his hands off my face as I rose from the bed.

He startled, "p.p..pervert ..my desires, what're you talking about ?"

" Yeah pervert!! Do you wanna me say it louder so everyone can hear it, Choi seungcheol??! " I burst out in anger, throwing hands into the air.

"What is.. wrong with you.." he pent up with diluted pupils.

I huffed, raking a hand through my hair, trying to control my anger.

"Come on, bury my heart deeper, seoyun. If that's what you're trying--it's working." with a painful smile as the tears started rolling down his face.

" Is this how you thank the person who protected form day one since high school? Do you think nabi is the one who did !! Nabi can not even protect herself from a mosquito! "he boomed with words that I knew after that those were facts not just randoms said to me to make me like him, " Seoyun, I regret every second I spend under your window watching you day and night just to make sure everything is going alright with you since your mother's death, "

I stayed limp in front of him as my voice was lost in my throat, realizing that I went way too far, destroying his feelings, I didn't know what to do or say at that moment, feeling the regret and ashame torturing me.

" Alright.. seoyun, you'll use the slient treatment, fine.. I'm leaving you alone as you want, " his anger and despair drained out as he exhaled before his body vanished behind the room's door.

Half an hour passed and the voices of my head never shut up about making me feel guilty and how this wasn't the perfect way to push him and my feelings for him, and yeah, I admit I was wrong and I deserve so—and now it's time to gather some courage, give up my stubbornness and make everything right.

I managed to run to him before leaving the hostel's gate, grabbing him by the wrist, and surprisingly, he neither resist nor push my hand of him, maybe shocked, maybe surprised or both, I don't know.

" Don't leave! please.." I commanded, looking him in his bloody colored eyes from crying.

Glistening tears in my eyes bright and crystal as I rapped those words, "Cheol.. I'm sorry for hurting you, I didn't really mean it.. I was just trying to push my feelings for you away, " my grip loosened as I slowly kneeled down.

He bowed after a few seconds to hold my hand in his and started rubbing its back gently as he hushed " Why you did so, seoyun?"

" Our mixed signals back then, don't you remember? I gave upon dating you because you were playing the cold boy game "

" I know, and I've to apologize for being an idiot— but after awhile I was head over heels in love with your dumb fucking ass, seoyun, So please, don’t stop thinking about me. Don’t stop… Don’t stop being in love with me." he vocalized softly as he drew me closer to him till the space between us vanished." Every day, where the school is buzzing with people, I would navigate through to see your face,if you're here or not ? If you're all okay, or is something off today ? I'd care for every single detail about you, Seoyun." His tone slowly turned into whispering those sweet nothings.

those delicate words were enough to form my own little bubble amidst the sea of chatter and laughter. I buried my face in the nape of his neck and mumbled between my smile," I won't seungcheol, I won't— enough being tongue tied, I like you,No,no, I love you— actually I have loved you since the day when only both of us were at the basketball court and you were showing off how you're such a prefect player and how you were over the moon once yourm scored a point !! "

" Is that a confession ? " he smirked.

" Yeah, whatever." I jerked back to sigh and roll my eyes, trying my best not to laugh and keep it as cool as I could.

" Wow! Look at your blush invading your face, " he addressed teasingly while pinching my cheeks.

" What The Fuck Choi Seungcheol ! "

" If you called me with my full governmental name again, I'll shut you up with my mouth in yours"

For the first time in a long time, my mind went blank. All I could do was stare as I felt those warm breaths of his ghosting my cold lips.

" Wow..that was wild.. but yeah, please do— " feeling giddy in love, hot in our fingers, warm near our bodies, gazing at each other lips ,shy under the sheets, he grinned while brushing his thumb gently against my cheek. " I've been waiting for your permission for years,baby, now it's time to taste each other's heaven "

he immediately slotted his cherry flavored lips to mine, kissing me passionately but slowly. My eyes fluttered close with how gentle he was. Every argument we had ever had, every misunderstanding happened, every hurtful word we said in the past. They had all lived behind this moment and were finally coming to the surface. His mouth was searing as he tilted my jaw to get a better vantage. I rest one of my hands at the side of his face and the other at the back of his head. That was my first kiss, and I'm sure I'll never be kissed like this again from someone else in my entire life. Because there was no anyone else. There would only be him.

He slipped his tongue into my mouth and let out a low hum of satisfaction when I ran my fingers through his black hair. His words broke along my lips, 'How could we have waited this long?'

We parted, gasping for air as we let out a few giggles. Seungcheol pulled me closer by the waist on his lap, gazing into my eyes. " Baby, I love you .. I love you so much, seoyunna. " his voice was so soft that I could barely hear it over my speeding heart.

I grinned, glistening at him as I brushed my thumb along his face. " I love you too, Cheollie .. And I promise won't quit till the day I die. "

'And that's how I fall in love with seungcheol, My seungcheol, In a random November night, with the first fall of snow celebrating our love with a Mansae!'

Tagging: @caratsland

Please reblog if you enjoyed ^.^

[dracarialove]

📄 Posting my finished fics here, too 📄

The Spy's Final Mission

*Check 'the spy's final mission' tag if you haven't read chapter 1

[Chapter 4: Her Hero]

Rouge explored the island at a fixed pace, hovering above the ground and diligently scanning her surroundings so she wouldn't miss anything. Though, the longer she looked, the more she realized there wasn't much but jungle to be seen. She let out a bored sigh after ten minutes of seeing nothing but greenery.

'Where is this guy?' she asked herself, landing to walk leisurely. 'I thought he was built for destruction – so why am I not seeing any?'

Soon enough, she heard the unmistakable sound of buzz saws in the distance, turning towards it and wondering if that was a noise her target was capable of making.

He could theoretically have indestructible saws for hands; though, the file didn't mention it explicitly. Without photo evidence of Project Shadow's appearance, Rouge had to prepare for anything.

The sound was getting closer, so she dashed to the right, intending to encircle the source and possibly be able to catch sight of it from behind – that would give her time to plan.

But when she stopped to judge her location, the mechanical whirring seemed to still be headed her way. That's when she saw trees falling, spotting them through the gaps between other trees.

'It's cutting them down,' she thought, running to the right again, and still being followed.

Now she could hear the tearing of tree bark as the blades made contact. If the unknown destructor was targeting her, there wasn't anything Rouge could do to make it stop the chase; she could only try to see it before it got too close.

She hopped up onto a high branch to get a better vantage point, then looked towards the falling trees. The ground was starting to rumble. Whatever the thing was, it was big, and loud. The bat plugged the tips of her fingers into one ear to dampen the sound.

And then she saw it – or, at least, part of it. Between the falling trees, Rouge could make out red metallic casing with gold decals and two glowing blue lights on the front.

Then she heard a voice to the left, not far from her. "Playing hide and seek, are we, Rouge?"

Gravelly, malicious, elderly… She looked and saw Dr. Eggman in his floating transport, grinning wickedly with his brows furrowed.

She glared back. "You're a sore sight. What are you doing on Prison Island?"

"I was just looking for something of mine. Something you seem to have thought would be of better use to you."

She remained vaguely aware of how close Eggman's buzz pawn was to her perch. "And what makes you think I took anything of yours?"

"Have you forgotten I'm a genius?!" he shouted over the noise. "When I walked into my lab, it smelled of cheap perfume! Not to mention the few white hairs I found under the table that used to hold my brand new invention!"

Rouge glowered at him more, simultaneously cursing her new scent and nurturing spite for his insult. She left the branch to hover in front of him, shoving both fists against her hips. "Too bad you came all the way out here for nothing, Doc. I don't have your trinket anymore, and you'll be hard pressed to get it back!"

A loud crack sounded out from behind her, making the spy turn around to see a tree falling her way. Eggman's robot stood still in its place while its saws continued running.

She managed to dodge the tree trunk, but couldn't avoid the thick branch reaching out in the direction she'd instinctively flown. It hit her in the stomach, knocking the air out of her lungs. Rouge fell a few yards before she was caught by a metal clamp enveloping her sides.

She cried out when its unfeeling edges squeezed her body. Dr Robotnik cackled as he floated closer, then surveyed the scene while his pawn ceased the turning of its bladed hands.

The steel triangular grip connected to a thick tube extending from the robot's back, holding the bat tightly enough that she could hardly breathe. Her eyes scrunched and she inhaled as deeply as she could, staring daggers at Eggman.

The human man peered back through shiny round glasses, grinning again. "Now, you thieving girl – since you didn't want to play nice, you'll have some time to regret your choices while I think up a fitting form of repentance for your transgression!"

Rouge merely grunted in response, trying to push against the constricting metal and feeling frustratingly helpless.

***

Shadow wandered far enough through the forest that he eventually managed to see beyond the thick collection of flora. It made him stop, because it wasn't more land he was seeing past the brush; it was water.

There was nothing but water beyond the jungle, which led him to believe this place was either on the coast of an ocean, or it was an island. Neither was good, as it meant he had to change his trajectory.

But he didn't have time to think about where he would turn to walk next, as he suddenly heard a distant crashing sound. It was followed by a feminine scream, and then a mad cackle.

'Someone must be in trouble,' ran through his mind, and he caught an intense urge to head in that direction.

Although he knew he had to be cautious, he couldn't ignore the instinct to assist whoever was clearly in need. The scream had awoken something in him, a slightly panicked feeling that terrible things would happen if he didn't check it out.

And the laugh… it sounded sinister. He followed the noise, weaving past the trees as he tried to keep a straight line.

***

While Rouge tried hopelessly to push the robot's claw open, Eggman taunted her by humming performatively as he supposedly thought out his next move. His index finger tapped against his chin, then he plucked at his graying mustache, and the thief grew angrier at his smugness.

"Make up your mind already, you old kook!" was what she wanted to say, if she could breathe enough to speak. But she felt like if she tried, all that would come out would be a gasp.

"Aha!" he finally exclaimed, smiling wide and pointing upwards. "I know! I'll- GAHHH!"

The bat's teal eyes widened at what she saw: a black and red ball smacking into Robotnik before bouncing back and unfurling. What landed on the overgrown grass was a scowling, dark-furred hedgehog who glared at the overlander before tucking into another spin.

He launched himself towards the floating transport, knocking it out of the sky. Upon hitting the ground, Eggman fell out of his seat, still shouting in pained surprise, and Rouge saw the brave stranger look her way as his stance shifted for a third attack.

Thinking she might be next, she closed her eyes and braced, then heard a loud clunk against the metal right beside her. After another thunk, the clamp loosened a bit; Rouge opened her eyes, looking down as she was able to breathe normally again.

If it loosened one more time, she could position her hands for a more powerful push and possibly free herself! Eggman's minion turned towards its enemy, its buzzsaw hands starting to whirr.

The claw swung through the air, extending behind the robotic pawn as if it was keeping its captive away from salvation. She discerned that the unknown hedgehog was trying to save her, barely glimpsing his determined expression as he stared down the robot.

The Doctor yelled from his place on the ground, "Destroy him, B-Saw! NOW!"

One of the spinning blades thrust forward, but the hero was far too quick for it to make contact; Rouge didn't even realize he was in the air until she saw his foot crashing down on the robot's head. The metal folded immediately, caving inwards and crunching loudly.

Eggman shouted in angered panic. Then, the stranger disappeared as the minion's arms started to flail. She blinked incredulously – did he actually disappear, or was he really just that fast?

She was soon distracted from her thoughts by being flung around as the claw's tubelike connector also waved through the air. The mechanical thing probably couldn't see anymore, seemingly trying to hit its attacker randomly by swinging its weapons around.

She wiggled against the metal, trying to gain any kind of leverage, because the sharp high-pitched sound the blades made when they whizzed by scared her.

She didn't have to worry about her safety for long, though. A deep voice yelled, "Chaos Spear!" one brief moment before she heard an electrical zapping sound and felt the drop of the robot's extension tube being sliced in half.

The claw fell to the ground with Rouge still in its grasp, and she looked up to see the dark hero approaching quickly. His face still held the same serious expression, but she could see his red eyes were sparking with urgency.

He slipped his hands into the gap between each section of the claw, grabbing both and pushing them apart to pry the giant grip open. It seemed almost effortless, the ease of freeing her only betrayed by the light grunt that escaped through his clenched teeth. The bat stared in awe at the mysterious being saving her life, then slipped out from her prison as soon as the opening was wide enough.

She had so many questions for him already – a brave hedgehog with fighting spirit, jumping to her rescue even as they were strangers – but she couldn't ignore the threat that remained. They both turned to face the robot, whose arms were still flailing as Robotnik cursed and shouted from the other side.

Without a word, the black and red speedster charged at the buzzing machine, going to work on destroying it fully. Rouge pushed off the ground and hovered around the saw bot, catching sight of Dr. Eggman climbing back into his vehicle.

She cupped her hands around her mouth to be heard over the noise. "Leaving now, huh, Eggy? What happened to my punishment? I'd love to hear what method of suffering you thought up for me!"

His panicked face snapped in her direction as he slid into the tilted seat and grabbed the directional sticks. There was a big dent in the metal where the hedgehog had bashed into it. "Never mind me! I'll let you off the hook just this once – but don't think your luck will last forever, thief!"

He pressed buttons and piloted the transport as it floated upwards. Rouge flew towards him and reared back, then spun rapidly into a Screw Kick and flung herself towards the rounded bottom of the vehicle.

The force of her powerful attack put another dent in the metal, and it clunked loudly before Eggman was sent flying higher into the air. She smirked and watched the Doctor's hovercraft wobble from the aftershock of her kick, jostling the human inside as he exclaimed and cursed again.

Then, he flew away himself, and she heard the whirr of the buzz saws coming to a stop behind her. When the jewel hunter turned around, she saw her savior jumping down from the wrecked pile of parts that was formerly Robotnik's minion.

Now that the enemy was dealt with, she could ask her questions, figure out who this guy really was, learn what the hell he was trying to do… and thank him for selflessly helping her escape.

[amalthea-fictions]

👉👈🥺 can I request that you write a fanfic about Shakarian doing this:

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRnBmKTp/

(there's a whole compilation but I won't bother you with it 😅)

Like Shepard is reading a book in their home smirking at a thought of making her husband do this and pulls Garrus to awkwardly and asking him to do certain positions for her and he's like confused and totally awkward about it as she's trying to soothe her inner fangirl and he's just being a dork like "um ok..why..?" 😂💙

A/N: Hello! First of all, I'M SO SORRY THIS REQUEST IS SO OLD. Second of all: aww this is so cute! 💙 For anyone who can't see the link, it's the TikTok "BookTok doorframe lean" trend from forever ago 😂 I hope that you enjoy even though it's late, and thank you for the fun request!

Garrus and the BookTok Lean

She leaned against the doorframe, utterly dejected, when suddenly HE approached. 

He slid his hand over her head, the weight of his perfectly chiseled biceps supported by the doorframe. With his other hand, he tilted her head up and– 

“Honey, Vega wants to know if you’ll be at the N7 gala this week.”

Shepard looks up from her book towards her husband’s voice. She shifts her feet under her knees on the plush sofa she’s cozied up in on her balcony. 

“Tell him yes, but I already promised we’d sit at the Urdnot table,” she calls. 

Inside the house, Garrus affirms, but Shepard has already picked up her book again.

With his other hand, he tilted her head up and moved his nose towards hers. He moved forward to kiss her–

“Do you have your dress ready for that night, or should I put in an order for the cleaners?”

Shepard sighs, marking the page in her book and putting it down beside her on the couch.

“It’s ready,” she answers, projecting her voice past the doorframe. 

The doorframe.

A smirk creeps unto her lips.

“Garrus? Could you come here for a second?”

It only takes a moment for him to finish whatever he was doing and walk into her view.

“What do you need, sweetheart?” He asks. But before he can cross the threshold from one room to the next, Shepard stops him by raising one hand.

“Wait,” she says, and he freezes with one leg over the doorsweep. “I need you to test something for me.”

“Is everything alright?” He’s trying to sound casual, but his subvocals betray his concern. Because of course he would do anything she ever needs, so long as she’s happy and healthy. She’ll have to apologize later for abusing his trust. But for now…

“I’m not sure.” She chews the inside of her cheek. “I’m worried there’s something wrong with the doorframe.”

He diverts his gaze from his wife to the frame in question. “The entryway? What about it?”

“It’s been shaking in the wind tonight,” she lies. Then, after a pretend moment of hesitancy, “Could you test its stability for me?”

“Sure, let me just get my tablet and I’ll run some calibrations–”

“No, no, just lean on it.”

Garrus barely had any time to move to grab his tech before Shepard’s interjection. He tilts his head, confused. 

“Lean on it?”

Shepard nods, schooling her expression into neutrality, but hiding her giddiness. “Mhm. No calibrations necessary. I think you’ll be able to tell if it’s stable enough from putting your weight on it.”

Garrus squints at her. In spite of her practiced ability to conceal her emotions, he can still read his wife better than anyone. “Alright,” he says slowly, but obliges her. He allows the top half of his body to fall onto the side of the wall, pressing his shoulder into the frame. “Like this?”

She evaluates him. “A little more.”

He lifts an eyebrow, but then leans his carapace against the frame and crosses one foot behind the other for good measure. “The frame isn’t moving. Are you sure you saw it shaking?”

Shepard nods a bit too eagerly. “I’m sure. Maybe try…” she shifts her feet from under one knee to the other, leaning forward a bit. “Maybe try leaning your weight through your hand against the frame.

“Hm, a singular pressure point then?”  He holds one hand out directly perpendicular to the frame, pushing into it. Naturally, the door does not budge. 

“Not there,” Shepard points a finger towards the top corner of the frame. “A little higher.”

He slides his hand up on the frame and leans into it.

Shepard feels the heat rush to her cheeks.

“Here?” Garrus asks, and turns to look at her. 

She inhales sharply to avoid squealing.

He notices.

“Are you alright?” The poor turian can’t figure out whether to be genuinely concerned over the door, confused over his wife’s odd behavior, or convinced Joker is somewhere somehow pranking him. 

Shep stands up from the couch and nods. “Yes,” she answers, “but I think maybe I should help you.” And when Garrus budges a millimeter, she quickly adds, “--But stay exactly how you are.”

Garrus furrows his brow, but obeys. “Um… okay, why?”

Shepard slides herself in the space between him and the wall, knitting her hands together behind her back. She gazes up at him, perfectly positioned under his arm.

She can’t hide her giddy smile.

“Shepard,” Garrus exhales, mirth in his eyes. “This isn’t about the doorframe at all, is it?”

She tilts her head up and nuzzles him. “Just kiss me already, Vakarian.”

• • • • •

Later that evening, in bed, Shepard would show Garrus the passage in her book that inspired her.

"Sweetheart," Garrus laughs. "If you wanted me to do those poses, you could have just asked me."

[absinthemind3d]

I Only Want You - Chapter 3

It has been a MINUTE, friends. Here's a short chapter three :)

Read on AO3 above or here, above and below the cut >>>

Chapter 2: Cardan's POV is here (tumblr) or here (AO3)

I Only Want You - Chapter 3: Jude's POV (767 - short one!)

---

I don’t know what has come over me. I am not sure who this fierce girl is, sinking her nails into the High King of Elfhame’s cheeks so hard his pupils widen in shock, but I am surprised to find I don’t care. I don’t care how she got here, I only care that this is what I’m working with now, and I find I am delighted. 

I grin up at him and angle my right hand so it’s braced at his neck, pressing just enough, I am sure, to hurt. I have never wished for those pointy nails I see on girls in the mortal world, thought them wildly impractical, but gods above I wish I had them now. I’d love to see Cardan bleed under my thumb. 

I kiss him, then. Maybe to shut my brain up, maybe because he looks so good, trapped against the door under my hands, maybe because I like to have this control over him as well. 

He kisses me back, with such urgency that I gasp against his lips. The heat that was building as I watched him with the others floods through me now, and I am not sure I can stand much longer. I press every inch of my body against his, all the while thinking it is not close enough. He’s only wearing a thin robe, and I can feel that he’s as intoxicated as I am. No, this isn’t enough. 

I grab his robe by the lapels and begin tugging him towards the bed, and he laughs softly, lips still on mine, hot as ice. 

“Darling Jude, I thought you weren’t lining up for all of this,” I am attempting to shrug his robe off, and he gestures down at himself as I struggle with the tie. 

“Shut up,” I growl, finally managing to get the knot undone. If his lithe fingers had expertly tied this so quickly before, imagine what else he could do with them. The thought has me pushing him back onto the bed. I answer him belatedly as I press against him, both of us sinking into the silk sheets, “There is no more line. I’m not sharing.” I try to say this as threatening as possible, but it comes out more like a breathless plea. I hate it, and yet I can’t stop. 

He looks panicked for a moment in response to my declaration, and I push back a bit, watching him. “Do you know why?” He asks me, and I think I know what he means. 

I tilt my head, unable to, afraid to, speak and interrupt him. 

“Because of you,” he continues, in a rush. “No matter how many nights, how many bodies, how much pleasure, I cannot get you out of my head.” 

He reaches up to brush a strand of hair behind my ear, so tenderly that if we were anyone else, anywhere else, it might have been the sweetest thing and maybe I might have cried, like a soft girl with nothing in her head but optimistic visions of a future with an equally soft boy. 

But I am a murderer, a human, and he is a faerie king, the stuff of fairy tales and nightmares. I only choke out as I reach down between us, “So get me out of your head then. Show me what you cannot stop thinking about. I want to know all of it.” 

At that, he grins, wide and slow, and just like that, the vulnerable boy is replaced with the wicked king. Just as I work up the courage to stroke down his length, my eyes widening in spite of myself, he flips us over so I am beneath him. 

“Do you really want to know, Jude?” He cocks an eyebrow and grinds his hips into my hand in a way that has my head reeling. I worry I may pass out. “I don’t know if you’re ready for what I have planned for you.” 

“Do your worst,” I spit out through gritted teeth, now gripping him hard enough I can feel his blood pounding. I am sure he knows I have no idea what I am doing.

He takes my challenge as permission, and suddenly his hands are everywhere at once, those lithe fingers I’d fantasised about springing to action. He doesn’t settle on any one place, not yet, and I think he must be deliberating. 

Sure enough, he asks me as his hands run down my waist, he rising on his knees so he can take all of me in, eyes hungry, “Where shall I start?”

[flightfoot]

I know everyone has weak stomachs for it, but if this show were more ambitious, this would be the ideal time for a temporary Adrien and Lila team up.

Consider it: Adrien just spent the past season putting his foot down. He unfriended Chloe. He stopped trying to give Lila the benefit of the doubt. He trashed his dad's pancakes to his face. There's evidence that he is done giving people so many chances and it would be really ironic if he took Felix, Kagami and Marinette's own advice against them. The former told him to get a backbone and stop letting people screw him around in so many words. Marinette told him that sometimes the good we see in others is just a reflection of our own goodness. Imagine him taking all that to heart, but against them.

Secondly, he's been on edge all Season 5, acting outside of himself and almost attacking people. Combine that with his dad being gone. He no longer has the invisible restraints of having to uphold the Agreste name. He has complete control over his choices AND he's about to receive a dozen terrible secrets. He could be a loose canon for a while.

Thirdly, Lila serves as a twisted mirror to Adrien. Lila is what happens when someone uses empathy and knowing what people want against them- for personal gain. Adrien has always used those things to be liked and to help others. But when he discovers that all these people that he wanted the esteem of/helped were keeping world crushing secrets from him/weren't taking him seriously, he might be resentful enough to see more value in her way of thinking for a time, possibly just out of spite.

Fourthly, Adrien has the capacity for this, for spite, and that's been narratively proven. It makes him reckless, aggressive and/or moody. It causes him to project his issues onto others who aren't always deserving of it. He's been cold to or ditched Ladybug in battle momentarily. He's verbally lashed out at Felix's and Scarabella's insecurities, showing that he is capable of wielding empathy as a weapon too. He shows this sparingly under Gabriel's control, only as Chat Noir. Now Gabriel is gone and he has 10 times the reason to be pushed to the edge. Adrien is extremely resilient and kind, but even the kindest people have a breaking point.

Fifthly, you might say Adrien would never team up with Lila because she used and lied to him too in the past. But he knew she was a snake most of the time. It's different when someone you trusted so intrinsically hurts you/lies to you like Marinette or Felix or Kagami or Nathalie or his parents. Sometimes, especially if you are feeling spiteful or resentful, the enemy of your enemy is your temporary friend.

And hey... even if Adrien refuses to team up with 'Lila' because of trust issues, that's okay. She has like 20 more identities and the miraculous cast are not very good with telling those apart. She can weasel into his good graces as Cerise or whatever and do some incredible psychological manipulation, using truth to bring him to her side against Marinette.

I'm not saying this spiteful team up would last. It totally wouldn't. Adrien and Lila's values do not align. He'd come to his senses by seeing the extent of her ruthlessness or realizing who she is. This duo will crumble at the first pull of tension and they'll turn on one another. But it would be an interesting turn of events, it would be realistic for someone whose been through what Adrien has and it would be a great challenge for Maribug and the rest of the team.

I know they probably won't do it. Or they won't do it well. But I'm not afraid of the pain and character exploration and I'd love to see it.

Oh I highly doubt this would happen in the show. I could see her revealing those secrets to Adrien and getting him to doubt his friends, to be frustrated and snap at them, but I just can't see it getting beyond him being snippy and cold for a day or two. I don't think it's physically possible for him to stay mad at Marinette especially, he loves her too much.

This is an interesting, dramatic idea that could be good for character development, I agree with you on that, but pulling it off in a way that still feels in-character for Adrien would be VERY tricky.

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

Damage Control - 1x16 Shadow

They drive in silence for a while, aimlessly, if Dean’s honest, just away. Away from fighting the Daēva, from Meg, from a blood-stained crime scene. Away from Dad.

Dean’s sure that their father is already well out of town, foot steady on the gas pedal of his truck in spite of his injuries. He took off in the opposite direction, and Dean can feel the increasing distance between them in his guts. Or maybe it’s just his own wounds? The Daēva got him good, and he can feel blood trickling down his side where its claws raked him. There’s a trail of fiery stinging from his ribs to his stomach; the same goes for his forehead.

Looking over at Sam, he sees that his brother isn’t faring any better. The shadow demon tore his left cheek open with its claws, the deep, ragged grooves still bleeding freely. And Dean’s pretty sure the semi-darkness in the car and Sam’s three layers of clothing are hiding additional wounds.

“Sam?” When he has his brother’s attention, he makes a circular motion at his own cheek, then points at Sam.

“Hospital time.”

There’s a sucking-in of air as Sam gets ready to launch into automatic protest. “What? No! It’s not that b-”

“Yes, it is,” Dean cuts him off. “Look at your face, man! I can’t sew this up. Unless you want me to Frankenstein you. Probably need a Tetanus shot, too. And antibiotics. We both do. It got me good as well.” He winces and presses one hand to his side.

That gets Sam’s attention. He sits up straight. “Got you? How bad?”

“Bad enough to hurt like a sonofabitch.”

“Can you drive?”

Dean waves him off. “Yeah. Shouldn’t be far.”

It’s not. Fifteen minutes later, they’re standing at an ER reception desk, lying to the nurse about their names, insurance and an obscure animal attack, and after noticing that Dean’s dripping blood onto the floor they’re ushered into an exam cubicle. Efficient hands peel them out of their bloody shirts and take their vitals. A first assessment determines that they’ll live but will need an impressive amount of stitching. Four deep slashes run from the side of Dean’s rib cage down to his belly button, Sam’s got a matching set across one of his pecs, and there are the facial injuries on both of them.

“What happened to you two?” A female doctor in surgical scrubs enters their cubicle. Her name tag identifies her as B. Kumaga, M.D.

“Wildlife.” Dean gives her his best daredevil smirk. “Wouldn’t advise camping out anywhere near the truck stop on the interstate if I were you.”

They’d agreed on some vague story about an animal attack that went so fast they couldn’t even see what exactly had wanted to maul them. Experience has taught them that hospitals were ready to accept the craziest explanations as long as there were no other people or weapons involved. It kept the police out of it and paperwork minimal, and animal control - if summoned at all - rarely ever showed up before they were patched up and gone.

“What kind of animal?” The doctor, a classy, black woman in her forties, approaches Sam first and carefully examines his cheek.

“We’re not sure,” Sam says, wincing slightly. “It was dark, and we’d been asleep. It was so quick, and we just blindly fought it off.”

The doctor frowns and adjusts the light so she can see better. “These look like claw marks. Some sort of wildcat?”

“Could’ve been,” Dean chimes in from the other gurney. “To be honest, we were too distracted to give it a good look. You know, what with the thing trying to rip our faces off and everything.” He grins crookedly, although he feels like crap. Charm and bravado usually work best on ER doctors, tired of dealing with whiny and scared patients all the time. It keeps questions at bay and speeds up treatment.

“Understandable.” The doctor smirks. She turns away from Sam and snaps on new gloves to check Dean’s wounds now. “And you got lucky.”

“Because the thing didn’t rip our throats out?” Dean sucks in air as the doctor palpates the slashes on his stomach.

“Because I’m a plastic surgeon and can fix this mess,” Doctor Kumaga replies evenly, with a trace of that cocky arrogance Dean has seen in surgeons before. “Your luck I’m on ER duty tonight.”

“Wow.” Dean looks over at Sam. “We’re getting the royal treatment, brother.”

Sam’s responsive smile is a bit lopsided. “Looks like it.”

“Well,” the surgeon says, her fingertips on Dean’s forehead now. “It would be a shame to leave you two boys looking like roadkill. But I have to warn you - this’ll take an hour or two, and you’ll either have to hold still for that long or let me put you under and keep you here overnight. Which one’s it going to be?”

Dean exchanges a glance with his brother. The choice is clear.

“Door number one, please,” Dean replies. “We can handle it.”

“Thought so.” The surgeon gives Dean a look that might be an acknowledgement of their bravery. Then she starts opening drawers and pulling out instrument trays, vials and surgical towels. “I’m gonna numb you up, and then we can start. Who wants to go first?”

Sam and Dean look at each other, both of their right hands already forming fists for a round of Rock-Paper-Scissors. And - sonofabitch! - Dean loses. Again.

xxx

Almost three hours later, Dean unlocks the door to a stale-smelling motel room and limps inside, each step pulling on his fresh stitches. Sam slips past him and drops their bags onto the floor, then sinks onto one of the beds with an audible sigh. Dean does the same on the other bed, tossing aside the baseball hat he’d worn to conceal his wounds.

The plastics surgeon had known what she was doing. She’d sewn both of them up with neat, small sutures that would leave only minimal scarring. Thin, flesh-colored bandage strips are covering the stitches on their faces, making them look almost inconspicuous except for some swelling around the wounds. The motel clerk hadn’t even noticed when Dean had checked them in, head angled away from the light, baseball hat pulled low into his forehead.

To prevent chafing, Sam’s chest and Dean’s side and belly are more heavily bandaged, and Dean is glad for the additional padding when he lies down. The local anesthetic is fading fast, and he can feel the familiar prickle-and-sting of his stitches gearing up for a night of fun.

“Where d’you think Dad is now?” Sam asks from his right. He sounds dejected.

Dean closes his eyes. The memory of his father’s bloodied face rushes in. “Still on the road? Or patching himself up somewhere, laying low? I don't know. But I’m pretty sure he put some miles between us before he stopped.”

“Should we call him? Make sure he’s alright?”

Sam sounds conflicted, his voice unsure. For years he’d nurtured nothing but rage, reproach and bitterness when it came to their father. That one hug they’d exchanged before the Daēva attacked them seems to have mellowed him, and, somehow, that makes it all even harder. They’d found him. Jesus fucking Christ, they’d finally found Dad, and in one piece. They’d reconciled. Dean’s heart had leaped at their reunion. They’d be together again, all three of them. Hunt together. Be a family.

But his hopes had been smashed. The shadow demon had demonstrated why it wasn’t meant to be, why their father had disappeared for months and not even answered his phone - not even when Dean was dying from heart failure. They were a liability. A weakness. John Winchester’s Achilles heel. They didn’t make him stronger. They made him vulnerable.

“He’ll be alright,” Dean answers, heaviness in his chest. “He always is. And I don’t think he’d even pick up the phone.”

Sam stares at the ceiling, and when he speaks again, there’s pain in his voice - and a touch of that old anger rekindling. “That’s what I don’t get - that he can’t even talk to us. I mean, where’s the harm in that? Is that demon tracing phone calls now?! Dad can use a burner if that’s what he’s afraid of. He could at least check in every once in a while and let us know that he’s still alive. Check if we are alive!”

Dean sighs. That didn’t last long. There he is again - the pouty, defiant, self-centered little brother who stormed off to Stanford four years ago. Sammy, so caught up in his own righteousness that he can’t see past the tip of his nose.

“He can’t risk it, Sammy,” he says tiredly. “We don’t know what that demon is capable of. You just saw what happened! We get together, we get hurt. That thing will use us to get to Dad. If that demon finds out we’re in touch–”

“He’s our father, Dean!” Sam sits up, plants his big feet on the carpet, posture aggressive. “I get that he wants us out of harm’s way. And I want that demon to pay for what it did just as much as him, but he’s our goddamn father!”

All Dean wants to do is sleep. His body feels like a slap of lead. Everything hurts. But Sam’s not going to let this go, so Dean struggles upright and, holding his side, he locks eyes with his brother, countering his dark stare with what he hopes is amenability.

“He’s trying to protect us, Sammy.”

Sam scoffs. “He’s protecting himself! He’s obsessed! Finding that demon is more important to him than anything else in this world! More important than his own sons!”

“That’s not true.” Dean’s answer comes fast, with conviction. That flutter of doubt he feels? It skitters away, outranked by his sense of loyalty toward his father. John Winchester may not be perfect, but Dean knows he loves them, he has to, doesn’t he? What Sam says is wrong, clouded by that immature grudge he’s still holding. “He’d die for us if he had to. You know that! He watched Mom die, and that’s why he’s doing this! For all we know, that thing could be coming after us, too, and he’s trying everything to keep us safe by getting to it first!”

Sam stares at him in disbelief, the asymmetry of his injured and bandaged face making him look foreign. “This is the story you keep telling yourself? That he’s doing this for us? Why are you always defending him? This isn’t about us! It’s about revenge!”

Anger flares in Dean. But he’s exhausted, and they’ve been around this block too many times. He knows how it could end. He’s already lost Dad, for the second time. He can’t risk losing Sammy again, too.

“Can we not do this?” he asks, sounding more desperate than he means to. “Can we just… not fight?”

It’s clearly not the reaction Sam had expected. Apparently he’d been ready for Dean to yell at him, to fall into that same old pattern of escalation the Winchester men had cultivated over the years. When it’s not coming, Sam’s face goes blank with surprise before rearranging into confusion. “I don’t–” he says, then he breaks off and starts again, studying Dean. “Are you… are you okay?”

No, Dean wants to reply. No, I’m not okay. I’m hurting inside and out, and I know you are too.

“I’m fine,” comes out of his mouth instead. “I really just need to sleep. Can we talk about this another time?” He hates how his voice wavers.

“Yeah.” Sam’s frown deepens. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Okay.”

Dean settles back onto the bed and rolls onto his good side, face turned away from Sam. Behind his back, he hears his brother shuffling, getting up again, hesitant.

“You… you want the bathroom first? Or can I..?”

“Go ahead. I think I’m just gonna go to sleep.”

It’s wishful thinking. His side is stinging in earnest now, and no matter how he turns his head, his injured face hurts against the cheap motel pillow. While Sam retreats to the bathroom, he stares into the semi-darkness of the room.

Dad, he thinks. Where are you now? And then, inevitably, Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll watch out for Sammy. I’ll keep him safe.

The Damage Control Series Masterlist

Read the entire series on AO3 here:

[penelopecruzcoded]

we're finally onto crystal castles and it's unearthing so many buried memories. i found crimewave on somebody's blog or myspace or something i no longer remember, and i instantly knew i was hearing some kind of movement i had never heard before, an entirely new kind of music, those bouncy, springy 8-bit beats that were so new back then, when people were still beginning to experiment with that whole sound, and my small teenage mind was getting blown. one of those bands who, not only did i love absolutely everything they put out, but their art informed my art deeply and on a very foundational level. by the time II came out i was in university, and it was the soundtrack to my days there. the cover art, that kid who stands by the graveyard. a relative found that album in my belongings and pointed to the picture: "i thought that was you." i started seeing myself as the kid on that album cover. my first year at csm my big final end-of-year foundational project involved a stop-motion movie starring a cut out of alice glass (i cut her out from magazine covers and editorials i collected). i cast her as an alice in a dystopic alice in wonderland, where she travels down a rabbit hole and the people in wonderland end up lobotomizing her, and then she turns into a doll. so much in that one piece that speaks to me now, that i understand as a silent transmutation of my own suffering. you never understand your own art until years later. even crazier still, as i cast alice as a vehicle for my own suffering i had absolutely no clue what she was going through, suffering a parallel hell, which is another mindblowing parallel i still can't manage to pick apart. i idolized her and wanted to be like her, i romanticized her and ethan's relationship: the coolest couple out there making music. so much you never learn until later.

i burned that short i made onto a CD and so desperately wanted to hand it over to alice herself when CC came to london to play a show, but anxiety took over as usually and i never did end up going to the show, nevermind giving them the CD. i don't think i will ever stop listening to them, even though the devastating information alice came out with later could never be unlearned either. i can't unlearn it and i don't want to, as ethan has taken on the shape of a very familiar abusive entity. i absolutely know what alice told was the truth (and she was of course branded a liar buy the ethan fangirls, of course, lol) and i believe her. unfortunate that we'd end up crossing paths on twitter when she accused somebody i love of abuse (not ethan), in a way that was untrue and jumping to conclusions and triggered reactions based off the past and then i had to go and argue her in her mentions. wild lol. that's my whole CC story thus far, i did see the new girl ethan seemed to replace alice with, a carbon copy it seemed in looks albeit much younger and similarly i guess easy to manipulate person due to the age gap. it's sad. i haven't listened to amnesty and truthfully i have no interest in a post-alice CC, because while ethan was the beats, alice was the beating heart of it all, and without her, there is no CC.

i'll always love and cherish the music that came, the tracks i grew up with, and holding all those complicated thoughts and feelings together and at once is just what life is like, and art is like. if i could mourn for my former self, i would, because i feel like it. hold a small funeral for her because she is no more, but because i do love who she used to be and how hard she tried to go on in spite of everything. i used to look up to alice for being the epitome of cool in music, from her clothes to her hair to the way she didn't seem to give a fuck what anybody else was doing, i thought of us like kindred spirits. but if there's anything i share in common with alice now, it's probably that we are both survivors. life put us through the grinder and spat us back out and we're still here, carrying on. and there's some kind of pride to be had for that, is my take away as i sit here and listen to Empathy. we should pride our ability to survive, maybe not unscathed, maybe not undamaged, but still here, still breathing. crawling if we have to sometimes, covered in sludge, existing in the swamps because toxicity became our only friend, until we are better enough that breathing purer air won't kill us. until we can walk again. survivors have this. every single one of us who has survived something, we have this instinct, even if hitting the self-destruct button felt tempting at many, many turns, we keep on going. i will keep on going. and i will thrive.