#'she was always emotional weak minded and cared more about harmony than herself' WHEN. WHEN WAS THAT EVER ESTABLISHED.

[zoobus]

I Shall Master this Family! is a rare princess story where the art is like, outrageously skilled, unique in its consistent level of detail, unreal historical fashion dedication, so much so that it successfully carries what's an overall mid story. You might notice that it's a mid story (I certainly have) but they throw you another sumptuous princess Guinevere sleeves and you're goaded into another chapter.

Normally this isn't enough. If anything I've found too good art highlights bad writing, thoughts wandering to how the artist(s) deserves better than the slog they're supporting.

But I'm stuck with this annoying isekai girl ignoring all the more emotionally intriguing subplots in favor of chapter upon chapter of isekai-based ego-stroking (can you believe this little kid came up with this brilliant business plan? Can you believe a 9yo identified the genius of a commoner? It's like she knows everything before it happens! Lay it on thicker!) because a) artist team that can conceptualize adults over 30??? b) artist team that draws old women??? Real ones???

b2) men too though it's more impressive that they drew a beard like they've actually seen a beard before. Old guys are common but distinguished and healthy looking ones less so

c) you can tell this is based on a historical fashion because nobody invents cultural male-garb unless they're meant to be eroticized. I can't think of another story where any real attention was put into what the guys are wearing unless cleavage was involved

I don't know if I even care for the fashion itself - that there's conspicuous effort into its portrayal puts it in a class of its own. Everyone else is satisfied with the certified male love interest paizuri shirts, cravats with medievallish suits, and generic npc peasantwear.

d) I don't know how many times I've given up on a comic because the artist had a fetish for blondes, making it nigh impossible to tell anyone apart. This story takes place in a Scots-inspired land, so a sizable chunk of the cast are redheads and the endless shades of red and curl textures never gets old. I like that blondes are still sort of gingery and shout out to the colorist for not being weak, blue-eyed apologist.

It came far too late but I finally understood why Shananet fell for this loser's act when he whipped out the brown/blonde puppy combo. Wish the writers were capable of juggling plots so we could have seen more of it.

I'll have to get into it in another post but the writing flaws are grating in a skill issue way, maybe too much ambition that should have been scaled back. For example writing men as being generally less substantial, more hysterical, while making women intelligent, well-rounded, characters with depth of various alliances only works if your story focuses on the latter. If you give me cold, calculating ice queen, I won't be satisfied with the plot spending more time on the dumbass loser 30-something eldest son throwing tantrums when his stupid plans fail. Likewise, how do you think it feels learning that the cool-headed, clever woman who gave up on potentially taking over the clan for a worldwind romance was played for a simp by her (quite obviously) less intelligent husband who doesn't even hide his seething hate for her family well? It makes everyone look like a clown. Writing structure crit imminent

It's a shame but unfortunately I like the way it looks too much to drop it😔

#i shall master this family #otome isekai #realized I lust for historical sleeves bc of this one ngl. that should be me wearing that. not her. #i should really write my thoughts down before i forget further because they did Shananet dirty #'she was always emotional weak minded and cared more about harmony than herself' WHEN. WHEN WAS THAT EVER ESTABLISHED. #they should have replaced like 20 chapters of mc worship with giving that shananet the setup she deserved #instead it's just 'yeah he was really manipulative. just take my word for it. gaslighting even. boy you should have seen it' #yeah i would have liked to

[guzhuangheaven]

Guzhuang Appreciation Month: badass dialogues

(but in the novel)

legend of ruyi :: ep 5 // ep 78

This drama is so amazing, demonstrated by these two scenes. Here you have Ruyi and Hongli watching the same play at two different stages in their lives. In episode 5, they are still clearly in love and are happy watching the play together, leaning lovingly against each other and moving in unison as one. They are also being watched fondly by Aruo, who has yet to have ideas of betraying Ruyi. Many years later, in episode 78, we have Ruyi and Hongli watching the same play, but they are physically far apart and their emotional distance from each other is also clear on their faces. They are literally being divided by the presence of Ling Yunche standing between them.

I find the parallel between the closeups of Aruo and Ling Yunche the most heartbreaking, because Aruo, despite how happy she looks for them in ep 5, would eventually try to break Ruyi and Hongli apart. And yet for all her efforts, she never succeeds because Hongli never actually believes her. On the other hand, Ling Yunche never tries to get in between Ruyi and Hongli, but just the mere presence of him is enough for Hongli to drive a wedge between himself and Ruyi. The presence of Aruo and Ling Yunche in this scene drives home the stark contrast in how the relationship has deteriorated between Ruyi and Hongli, and how Hongli went from trusting Ruyi despite all evidence against her to believing the worst of her despite no real evidence. 

What is even more heartbreaking is the play they are watching. It’s not made very clear in the drama, but the plot of the play has great significance in the novel. The play they are watching is called 墙头马上 / Over the Wall and Atop a Horse. The play is based on the poem 井底引银瓶 Silver Vase at the Bottom of the Well by Bai Juyi.

The poem by Bai Juyi, writes of a broken relationship/friendship where two people once lived happily in harmony, then one person wronged the other, causing the other person to leave and never come back; the relationship is thus severed. 

When the poem was adapted into the play 墙头马上 / Over the Wall and Atop a Horse, the play tells the story of Pei Shaojun falling in love at first sight with Li Qianjin when she was standing by a wall and he was on a horse riding by her house. The two then eloped, and lived together for seven years, having two children together, before they were discovered by Pei Shaojun’s father. Upon the discovery, Li Qianjin was condemned for getting into a clandestine relationship and Pei Shaojun caved to parental pressure and divorced her. She went back to her hometown. Many years later, after having achieved political success, Pei Shaojun went looking for Li Qianjin again, and just happened to discover that the two of them were actually engaged as children. In the play, they then reunited, got remarried and lived happily ever after.

There is however a plot point in the Ruyi novel, where Qingying does not like the ending of the play, feeling that the happy ending was forced. In the novel, Hongli and Qingying only know each other in passing at first. Then on the day that Hongli chooses his wives, Qingying is made to attend by her aunt. Before the selection ceremony, everyone is invited to watch a play, and Hongli chooses Over the Wall and Atop a Horse. Qingying, because she dislikes the happy ending, asks the theatre troupe to change the ending of the play so that in the end, Li Qianjin does not actually get back together with Pei Shaojun but stays firm in her resolve to end the relationship between them. After the play ends, Qingying leaves before the selection, but Hongli becomes intrigued by her changed ending and chases after her. This conversation below ensues, in which you can see clearly how Qingying’s belief on the matter stayed constant with her through the years. In fact, she practically predicts her own fate later with her changed ending.

~*~

Qingying stepped lightly ahead, her gown fluttering in the breeze like a white butterfly in flight. Aruo’s face was robbed of all colour and she was crying in despair. “Gege, what is wrong with you? Everything was well, why did you change the ending of the play? If Huang Hou Niang Niang hears about it, what will you do?”

Qingying shrugged. “At most, Aunt will just scold me a little. I just don’t like that ending. Today, I finally got to see how it should be played out. I’m so happy!”

“Gege might be happy,” Aruo said miserably, “but today is the consort selection. If Gege you are not chosen, then what would we do?”

Qingying’s aunt had already intended her to be the Third Prince’s bride, and now that was not successful, she should be pushed to the Fourth Prince instead? If they needed this one forced marriage to prolong their family’s glory, would that mean all women of the Ulanara clan were little better than slaves? It would be better this way. Regardless of whether she succeeded at being chosen to be a prince’s consort or not, she got to see things done her way, for once.  

She only managed a few steps more when suddenly a voice called behind her. “Qingying Meimei!”

No one had ever called her that before. Everyone in the palace simply called her “Qingying Gege”. Curious, she turned her head to find that Hongli was chasing after her.

Thinking that he must wish to reprimand her, Qingying made herself as small as possible.

Hongli only laughed. “I chased after you to comfort you. Xiyue Gege was rude in speech, I feared that you would be offended.”

“Offended? About what?” Qingying asked in a low voice. “Fourth Prince, do you mean to mention the fact that I was rejected by the Third Prince?”

Hongli nodded, frowning. “I only fear such talk will destroy your reputation.”

Qingying laughed, all her teeth showing, against all rules of decorum, which seemed to astonish Hongli.

“I don’t care!” she declared. “There are many things that women can’t necessarily decide for themselves, such as marriage, or family. But at least, I can decide whether to mind those mocking talks, whether to care about them and let them hurt me.”

Hongli looked sad for a moment, whispering, “Your family…” But then he trailed off. Then, with a humourless smile, he said, “Over the Wall and Atop a Horse is the play I chose myself, why did you not like the ending and asked them to change it? I pick a plum blossom, lean against the wall. / You ride off among the bending poplars*. Is that not a lovely image?”

“Yes, it is very nice, it’s just…” Qingying thought a moment then said, “Over the wall and atop a horse we gaze at each other. / I know you, too, must be heartbroken*. From this beginning, the play is full of conflicts, ups and downs, all very compelling, yet in the end, there is a forced happy ending, everyone is forced to be happy, I really don’t like it at all.”

[* excerpts from the poem by Bai Juyi]

Hongli looked displeased, asking, “To be able to mend a broken mirror, husband and wife reunited and at peace again, is that not good?”

“When Li Qianjin was being insulted by Pei Shaojun’s parents, he did not protect her. He watched her leave in humiliation and did not stop her, as if all the love and years they shared did not matter. Such a heartless and weak man who dares not protect his woman, why would Li Qianjin want to get back together with him?”

Her voice was soft, but also full of conviction. Even though it went against Hongli’s beliefs, he wanted to keep her talking.

“To be reunited and together in harmony is the wishes of all families on earth. If Pei Shaojun is willing to start over, why would Li Qianjin not forgive him?”

“Why must a woman always forgive a man for his failings? Wouldn’t that teach the man that it doesn’t matter what hurt he causes? I don’t care, if he hurt her, she shouldn’t forgive him.”

“Women must be soft and gentle, and give into her husband. If she sacrifices a little, bears a little hurt feeling, they can be reunited, isn’t that happiness?”

“If she must be hurt, must sacrifice herself for this forced reunion, then it is already not a good marriage,” Qingying said stubbornly. “In my eyes, Li Qianjin is a woman who is willing to walk away, to severe the relationship, because all trust is gone.”

“If she walks away, wouldn’t that mean she spends the rest of her life alone? Everyone has their own difficult moments, if Li Qianjin is so stubborn, Pei Shaojun is put in a difficult position too.”

“Who isn’t in a difficult position?” Qingying asked. “If the woman can understand the man’s difficulties, can a man not understand a woman’s pain of being cast aside and humiliated?”

Hongli thought for a moment then laughed. “Qingying Meimei, you are much too unbending.”

Qingying merely nodded. “It’s better to live the rest of your life alone, rather than live to old age with someone who already betrayed you once. So it might be harmonious today, but if a conflict arises, what is to say Pei Shaojun will not just forsake Li Qianjin again? It is easy to change mountains**, that is the principle here.”

[** there is a Chinese saying that it is easier to change the course of rivers and shapes of mountains than to change the character of a person… aka old habits die hard but with more stakes.]

Hongli still did not agree with her logic. “Women should place obedience before all and be pliable. If she does not restrain herself and be more accepting for the greater good, then she would just suffer.”

“If one must accept being humiliated for a so-called happy ending, then I don’t want that kind of happy ending,” Qingying repeated.

“Then is Over the wall and atop a horse we gaze at each other so easily forgotten?” Hongli asked, astonished.

Qingyin turned and stared at Hongli. “If it is not easily forgotten, then why didn’t Pei Shaojun protect Li Qianjin? Hasn’t he too forgotten how they once loved each other when he cast her aside?”

Hongli could not argue against her, and finally admitted defeat. “Meimei, you really are something, I don’t know what else to say.”

Qingying laughed in delight.

“Meimei,” Hongli said, stepping closer to her, “you argued so animatedly, you must love Over the Wall and Atop a Horse. Why don’t we go back and hear the play again?”

Qingying hesitated, thinking that it would be a great loss of face if she were to return now. But Hongli was looking at her so earnestly, she found it hard to immediately refuse.

“I’ll go back first, and prepare good tea to wait for you.”

He said ‘wait’, as if he would not move the day along if she did not come. Her heart softened, and she suddenly stopped in her path.

…

[And then of course Qingying comes back to attend the selection. Hongli, who had originally intended to choose Langhua, changes his mind and chose Qingying to be his di fujin, but then Yongzheng interfered and put a stop to it… But the play is one massive foreshadowing plot device that doesn’t get explained much in the drama, but packs a punch when you read this scene.] -h

#legend of ruyi #如懿传 #cdrama #perioddramaedit #cdramanet #cdramaedit #gifshistorical #guzhuangappreciation #gzh #ruyi zhuan #qing dynasty #perioddramasource #asiandramanet #onlyperioddramas #ruyi's royal love in the palace #meta #ruyi meta #ruyi novel #translation #parallel #//

[insufferablelust]

i have had this in my head for days now and i need to tell you about it lol so a lot of fics on here have the concept of being a brat and a bad girl and I love those but it got me thinking about spencer being with someone whos s u c h a good girl for him like the most obedient little girl who never breaks the rules no matter what he says or does and he absolutely loves it and he asks her why she never breaks the rules and whatever her submissive reply is makes him go FERAL

wow you’re a genius, i’m actually loving this piece so much because this is screaming me, i’m super subby it’s unbelievable🥺 anyways, i hope you enjoy love! thank you so much for the req and support, love you. xx MASTERLIST.

WARNINGS : Soft!Dom!Spencer x Sub!Reader, lots of praising so praise kink, soft cute dom and sub dynamic, oral (f receiving), bit of rough sex but its cute still, and pure submissive and dominant dynamics meaning it might seem like the sub is way too subby but in reality they hold the same amount of control, its just how the dynamics go. :) oh and fluff!

There’s something about Spencer Reid that always amazes Y/N, the way he handle things, the way he talks, the way he thinks, the way he manages all the things inside his head. He was rather complicated, but the mesmerizing kind that always caught her attention, the kind that stopped her from doing anything else but to listen and to cater his every need. He has her whipped for him like a puppy to it’s owner, but she loves it- she loves him, he’ll always her devotion— but so will she from him.

Y/N adores a lot of things, a lot of people— like Penelope Garcia and all her quirks, or David Rossi and all his wisdoms. But no one ever comes close to get the same amount of adoration and respect from her, as Spencer. The moment she joined the BAU, she knew that she had to give him her all, so she did. Now 2 years later, working in different divisions with him still in BAU and her in the human recourses division, their relationship remains strong, even stronger than ever.

Its rather challenging for them both to find the time together with him on case duties while she waited at their shared apartment considering that she spends more time on desk job rather than the field, but lately since he got his mandatory 30 day off, their time with each other becomes more and more interesting and sparked the utmost pleasure.

Of course he has lectures to teach, and papers to grade or sometimes on call cases to help, but that all means he’s mostly home with her. When they started the relationship, her intense adoration for him only sparked to greater level which is submission. When they started dating, she revealed that part of her instantly which ignited something inside the Doctor.

You see, Spencer was experienced but when they met, he never seen someone so devoted... so obedient... and so submissive to him like her. She’s the epitome of raw beauty not because she’s weak when she submit, it’s because she trusts him to take control but in order for him to take control, she’s also the one that holds the wheel— if she said the word, he’ll stop. Their dynamics are as harmonious as an instrumental piece. She submit to him in more ways than one— he owns her and most importantly he takes care of her like she takes care of him.

Y/N is not the one to misbehave, of course there are times when she wanted to be bratty, to break the rules he set for her, which was fairly simple; like she must tell him how she feels at all times (communication is key), no touching herself and no orgasms unless he’s there to give her the permission, and don’t disobey him. And she really wanted to be bratty, and tease him until his palm twitch and bend her over his lap, yet every time she was about to break one of his rules, the guilt settles in, and she thought,

You’re his, you’re his baby, his love, his bunny, his doll, his person, his home— he said so. What are you doing disobeying him? ungrateful brat.

The submissive in her just melt down its brattiness and pushed her deep to subspace, where all she wanted was to please him anyway possible, to be as good as she can be, to behave, to obey, and to serve. She’s willing to do anything to hear his sweet praises and to see the blissed proud expression featured on his face when she did something that pleased him. The euphoria from the praise seared her core, and sent her to heaven.

The atmosphere of this situation always have and always will be the most comfortable content thing in the world for her— and Spencer couldn’t agree more. Praising and taking care of his beautiful lady, seeing her so submissively devoted to him sent a venomous thrill to his bloodstream, and hearing her beg for him just makes him want to stay with her forever— and they planned to stay forever.

———

Y/N found herself pacing around the bedroom as she pouted cutely at the flashing thoughts of their late night rendezvous last night, she could still feel the burning sensation on her inner thigh, the way he whispered on her ear, the way his palm collided with her skin several times, the way his teeth graze on the skin of her breasts— claiming her for the 100th times, the way he fills her up to the brim that rendered her into a pathetic panting mess at the end.

Saying that she’s soaked through her panties surely is the statement of the year, because god she was soaked— dripping at the thought of his sinful immaculate fingers, how does one get excited and aroused by their dom’s fingers?!Certainly Y/N. He was currently inside his study, grading and preparing for his next lecture which is tomorrow, they spent their morning together with over-sugared coffees and pancakes before he went to do his professor things and Y/N went upstairs to.. apparently think about getting fucked by her dominant genius boyfriend.

She was contemplating to just hump the sheets or using the shower head for less evidence, or just touch herself then and there— he won’t know right? he’s busy downstairs, when the doctor is busy, he won’t come here. So here she was, walking slowly to the master bathroom, as she chew on her bottom lip. The closer she got to where she needed to be, the greater her guilt arisen.

“He took such a good care of you last night, he gives you multiple orgasms, give you the privilege of having him inside your mouth and princess part— now you want to disobey him? disobey the man you love?”

She whined at herself before pulling the bathroom door harshly to close it— maybe a bit too harsh because one minute later, Spencer ran to where she was at the front of their bathroom, eyes brimming with tears and lips in a constant pout.

“Hey Baby, come here.. what happened? are you hurt hm? let me see your eyes, dove.” His voice made her whined ever louder and sunk her head even deeper as she fluttered her eyes shut, ashamed that she was even considering to disobey him. “Baby please look at me..” Spencer tried, pulling her close to his chest and rubbed her back.

He knew the look, she’s deep inside her space, what’s gotten him so confused was that they didn’t do anything this morning, she only gets like this after they have a rough session or when she feels— ah.. His mind clicking on its own, and its his job to make sure she crack her shell.

“Y/N, look at me.” Y/N’s eyes snapped open at the authority behind the tone of his voice, causing her to squirm against his front and then she looked up at him, even though she’s not ready to face his disappointment laced on Spencer’s face. Yet when she did look, she found no disappointment but rather a gentle smile and a sigh,

“There you go, Missed your pretty eyes my love.” He mused wiping the tears off of her cheeks before carrying her bridal style to their bedroom and sit down on the edge of the bed. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s gotten you so upset that you fell under deep like this, princess?” His voice is gentle, laced with adoration and hint of worry which made her swear he’s an angel.

“I-I..” Her lips trembled as she looked up at him, it’s then that he realized just how deep she’s under— her eyes focuses solely on him and the only think that crosses her eyes is him- just Spencer, Spencer, and Spencer.

“Shh, i’m not mad, i’m not disappointed, now let me know what has gotten you like this angel?” His velvet voice sent chills yet the calming kind onto your guts and you sighed, crawls up to his lap and hide your face in his neck, before mumbling cutely,

“I was um thinking about last night... and i just.. Spence i was about to use the um shower head but i didn’t! i stopped myself cause i won’t ever disobey you sir! i promise!” The way she talked made his heart bursts inside his chest, god he’s so whipped for her and she’s clueless sometimes.

So Spencer leaned in to place a lingering kiss on her lips, closing his eyes and transferring all his adoration towards her onto the kiss that surely has her needy by now.

Her lips moved in sync with his, both’s raw emotions could be seen on the kiss, they projected each other’s desires and wrapped it up with a gentle smile. He pulled back a little, caressing her flushed cheeks before muttering, “Baby—“

“So you’re not mad?” She beats him to it, batting her eyes innocently at him, the sight made him weak on his knees, that all he wanted was to worship her in every way he could.

“No, no i’m not mad petal. You’ve done nothing but pleasing me and making me happy.” He could see the way her eyes gleamed at that, the way her lips smiles so big, and the way she held onto him so tightly like an adorable koala, He muttered a low “Fuck me.” under his breath but of course she heard, every one of her senses were sensitive in times like this so of course she heard.

“W-What’s wrong?”

“No no baby, i said it because fuck.. how are you so perfect hm?” Spencer leaned to brush their noses together before trailing kisses from Y/N’s flushed cheeks to her ear where he whispered, “You’ve never broken any of my rules, always obeying me like a good girl, the perfect little love for me... how hm?”

Y/N was visibly shivering at the praise, a whine was stuck inside her throat, as she breathed heavily at the feeling of him biting softly on the skin below her ear causing her to gasp. “Ah!”

“Answer me, dove.” He groaned before making yet another mark, he could feel the way she squirmed that it sent a huge amount of pleasure toward his sweats covered cock.

“Sorry! i just.. just.. I wanna be good, i will always be good for you because you take care of me but most importantly.. you own me sir, i’m yours, body and soul. You can do anything, tell me anything, and just— i’m yours.” Oh to see her was one thing but to hear her high pitched voice spewing out those words awoken something inside of him, The absolute Feral need to claim her again and again. Cause she’s so damn precious and fucking his.

When she didn’t hear a respond from Spencer, she was about to pull away for a second to see if she has made any mistakes, but got cut off quickly when he flipped them over, pinned both of her wrist against the headboard. “Don’t move.” He whispered sternly, and she nodded, all the blood is rushing to her every sensitive nub.

“You’re fucking mine, just me, i will get you a collar, something that will show everyone that you’re mine.” His voice was rough, deep, and dripping with authority as he rip her flimsy nightgown open, trailing marks all over her smooth skin. He was worshipping her, owning her, making her his again and again.

“I’m yours— oh!” Y/N let out a yelp at the feeling of his lips enclosing on one of her nipples, gently rolling his fingers on the unoccupied one, before switching from time to time— making Y/N moaned every time he tugged too hard, suck too long, or licking way too fast. Her whole chest was on fire, overly stimulated yet couldn’t- and wouldn’t stop it.

“That’s right, you’re mine.” His growls were animalistic, as he trail his kisses down from her sternum down to her tummy, lips never missing an inch of its trail without marks. Y/N was positively buzzing with oversensitivity and pleasure, god she could just cum like this.

“My good girl, my best girl.” His praises has her closing her legs which Spencer quickly denied by spreading her thigh as wide as possible and lay on his tummy in between them.

“Sir.. please..” She kept pleading, eyes soaked with tears, panties soaked with arousal, and lips bitten red and raw. Totally a damn sight. “What do you want?” He demanded, he was the one pulling the strings whilst she laid there taking everything he’s going to give her. She wanted to say that she wants her to make her cum, but her submissiveness muttered something else,

“Whatever you want, whatever you think i deserve, whatever you choose for me.” Although her response were shaky, the message was clear enough for him to suddenly yanked her panties down and buried his face on her sweet sweet peach. Licking, and exploring every inch of her burning core as she squirms like a kitten. Spencer Hummed against her sensitive numb at the sound that she was making, lapping every drop of her sweet nectar, and suck on her pearl like there’s no tomorrow.

“Sir! Oh so good! thank you..” She was getting close, he could feel how her walls contracted around his wandering tongue, and her toes curling as her back arched. “Ask for permission like a good girl i know you are.” His voice against her cunt sent right to the edge.

“Please! please may i cum sir?” She was sobbing at this point, positively burning with pleasure and the adrenaline of being his. It was like there’s molten lava that swallow them both to a new world where the only people exists were Y/N Y/l/N and Spencer Reid.

“Cum, now.” He ordered, and she obeyed, instantly. Releasing onto his tongue which he happily lap every bit of it until she’s screaming due to overstimulation which he then pulled back, knowing just how sensitive his girl is at this point.

As he looked up at her, he could see how shivery she was, with a satisfied smile on her face and wrecked with his mark. “Thank you.. Spencer..” She drawled, nuzzling close to him before getting on her knees in the bed to straddle him shakily,

“Hey hey what are you doing?” Spencer grasp her trembling wrist stopping her from moving anymore. “Please let me ride you! please Spencer.” She does the thing with her eyes again, the one that Spencer would never ever dream of dishonoring her every requests.

“Baby, aren’t you tired?” His voice laced with worry as he thumb her lips, which made her instantly suckle on the thumb, and shakes her head. “Please sir! let me be your good girl, wanna show you how good i am.”

“Shh i know that you’re good baby, you don’t have to do that.” Y/N frowned as she suckle even harder on the thumb before releasing it and whined, “But i want to, doctor please!” even in her mushy state she could still think about one of Spencer’s biggest pet name.

“You should be glad, i love you this damn much pet.” He muttered yet still very pleased at the name. “Now come on, ride me, show me you can be good.” He doesn’t hold her, he just place his hand on his sides and watch her intently.

Y/N blushes under his intense gaze, as she took out his cock (finally) from his sweatpants, and god— his cock was so pretty, tip ruddy red, and the veiny skin was hard, her mouth watered at the empty filling inside her mouth— wanting so bad to feel the heaviness warmth on her tongue. “Gonna eye my cock forever like an undeserving brat or are you actually going to be good hm?”

His voice pulled her from her thoughts as she let out strings of apologies which he stopped with a sealing kiss.Y/N graze the tip of his cock against her opening as she took a deep breath before sinking down his length softly, his eyes never leaving his even when she moaned lewdly and shaking.

“You’re so good, warm and tight for me love.” He whispered, feeling immense pleasure being wrapped up inside her, he wished he could stay like this forever. “go on baby, bounce like a little bunny for me.”

And so she obeyed, placing her palm on his chest before bouncing slowly at first yet keep on picking its pace on his cock, their faces flushed, keeping eye contact as Spencer gripped her hips so hard before helping her bounce faster— making sure to hit her spongey spot each time.

“That’s it bunny, good girl.” He praised, earning a scream from her, her eyes rolled back and lips parted as she tightened her walls around his cock “Fuck Y/N..” His eyes shut now at the intense pleasure from the tightness of his girl’s walls.

He then pulled out for a second, flipped them over, before putting himself back in and then continue pounding her into the bed with a brutal pace yet its all so sweet and full of passion towards each other. “So good Spence! oh oh so full and deep!” Her pornographic moans send him over to the edge.

“Cum baby, now come with me.” He grunted against her lips before pulling her into an intoxicating kiss, and then both of them cum at almost the same time— they trigger each other’s pleasurable desires and needs like a soulmate would.

—————

“Shh good girl, I love you so much Y/N. You’re the best girl ever.” He wrapped his arm around hed after he cleaned them both with a damp towel, changing her into a pajama and then change himself.

“I love you.. Spencer...” She whispered, her eyes still swimming with the thought of him, she’s his.

“I need you to come back to me Y/N, come on.” Before they sleep he needs to coax her out of it, or else she would be sad and grumpy the next morning.

“I’m here!” She giggled as she stared at him, pressing onto his pouted lips and then eyes widen at the sad expression on his face that was one of the way to show her how she really needs to sleep now. The next minute she opened her eyes, he could feel the warm graze of hers and Her voice were small but its Y/N’s wonderful voice nonetheless.

“Spencer?”

“Hi Y/N, here with me?” Spencer intertwined their fingers together before pulling the covers up to their chest and then cuddled around her.

“Yeah.. yes baby..” Her voice droopy, Spencer then let out one more ‘i love you princess’ before she drift asleep, as well as him.

——————

Blurb requests and taglist are open so send me a message if you have ideas or want in!

#insufferableblurb #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds smut #dom!spencer #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer x reader

[felikatze]

(SPOILERS FOR LIBRARY OF RUINA ENDING) How do you feel about the whole revelation with Carmen being the Voice distorting the people?

it is fucking FASCINATING. so so so much is about "what would carmen have done" and then she tries to foil the plan created using her ideals! It's incredible.

I rewatched the keter realization (hearing it with voice acting for the first time and hearing that it was ayin who told angela she did good almost made me cry) and there's so much i'm wondering about!

Since Angela says releasing the light was the first choice she made by herself, does that mean her previous plan, unleashing all abnormalities, pulling an adam basically, was carmen's will? did carmen encourage the reverberation ensemble to take the light because she thought angela's choice was wrong?

it seems that carmen regrets being selfless. She imagined it would be easy to die for the others, but she regrets it more than anything. She realizes that she wanted to live, for her own sake. This newfound selfishness is what she imparts to the distortions, to focus on their own feelings.... whatever the consequences may be.

It appears Carmen has completely given up on her previous ideals of a healed world, of people living in harmony. However, this newfound selfishness... it's not healthy. A certain amount of selfishness is needed to be happy, yes, but what she enables the Distortions to do..

The Distortions seem happy. The Pianist was happy he could play for such a large audience. But, for most Distortions, in the process of pursuing their happiness, of indulging in their desires, they destroy themselves. (...similar to my brief "art as violence" thing on my netzach post.)

By avoiding personal suffering at any and all costs, it becomes completely impossible for the Distortions to heal from what happened to them. A good example would be Philip, who shut out his own emotions so he wouldn't have to deal with guilt and anger anymore. Similarly, I don't think Argalia ever properly processed his grief, or ever would, for as long as he lead the Ensemble. Every Distortion is incredibly single minded, placing their desires above all else.

Making a looooong leap back, Adam parallels! Suuuper fascinating, too, how both Angela's and now Carmen's initial plans can be compared to Adam's. His ending, ending C, shows for one the Abnormalities unleashed upon the City as Angela does, and for another the people of the city turning into what we now know are Distortions! He even says something along the lines of people becoming their "true selves."

Thing is, Adam specifically shows us the distorted version of Carmen's belief, born out of Ayin's hatred for humanity. Meaning, Ayin kept truer to Carmen than Carmen herself. Wack.

(Is it not hypocritical to say all should love only themselves, and then let that self love hurt others? One man's freedom ends where another's begins, as is the basis for all good lawmaking.)

Did Carmen grow to hate humanity? Did she witness the events of Lobotomy Corporation, and grew to regret the suffering her sacrifice caused so much, she shut out her care for others, like Philip did? By claiming people can only love themselves, does she not see everything was done out of love for her? Does she know she is loved, still? That she is mourned, still?

She says in lobcorp that she always had a weak heart. A single child tells her to die in a fit of emotion, and she complies. Did she even see how she was loved when she was alive?

#Feli gets asked #lobotomy corporation #library of ruina #library of ruina spoilers #slams fist on table. does carmen know she is loved.

[cartoonfangirl1218]

The Owl House zodiac signs

I decided to match zodiac signs with TOH characters because why not. Info from https://www.astrology-zodiac-signs.com.

Luz: Libra

Strengths: Cooperative, diplomatic, gracious, fair-minded, social Weaknesses: Indecisive, avoids confrontations, will carry a grudge, self-pity

Likes: Harmony, gentleness, sharing with others, the outdoors Dislikes: Violence, injustice, loudmouths, conformity

They are in a constant chase for justice and equality, realizing through life that the only thing that should be truly important to themselves in their own inner core of personality. They will be inspired by good books, insurmountable discussions and people who have a lot to say. ibra representatives are highly social and put their friends in the limelight, but sometimes raise their expectation bars too high, but will often help others understand the other side of their personal conflicts and trouble with other people.

She enjoys being taught about new things and enjoys talking about herself and her personal interests, just as much as she likes sinking deep into her partner’s life. She is charming, intelligent, and finds solutions to problems that arise along the way with certain ease.

Eda: Sagittarius or Aries.

Strengths: Generous, idealistic, great sense of humor Weaknesses: Promises more than can deliver, very impatient, will say anything no matter how undiplomatic

Likes: Freedom, travel, philosophy, being outdoors

Dislikes: Clingy people, being constrained, off-the-wall theories, details Freedom is their greatest treasure, because only then they can freely travel and explore different cultures and philosophies. Because of their honesty, Sagittarius-born are often impatient and tactless. The fun-loving Sagittarius enjoys making and spending money.

Aries

Strengths: Courageous, determined, confident, enthusiastic, optimistic, honest, passionate

Weaknesses: Impatient, moody, short-tempered, impulsive, aggressive

Likes: Comfortable clothes, taking on leadership roles, physical challenges, individual sports

Dislikes: Inactivity, delays, work that does not use one's talents

Aries rules the head and leads with the head, often literally walking head first, leaning forwards for speed and focus. Its representatives are naturally brave and rarely afraid of trial and risk. They possess youthful strength and energy, regardless of their age and quickly perform any given tasks. They are continuously looking for dynamic, speed and competition, always being the first in everything - from work to social gatherings.  They are tolerant of people they come in contact with, respectful of different personalities and the openness they can provoke with simple presence. Their circle of friends needs a wide range of strange individuals.

Independent and ambitious, an Aries often knows where they want to go at a young age, separating from their family a bit early. They will take on family obligations when they need to be taken care of, never refusing more work as if their pool of energy is infinite. They live in the present and aren't that focused on the future, and this can make them irrational and hasty when it comes to financial decisions. Still, they seem to always find a way to earn money and compensate for what they have spent.

King: Leo

Strengths: Creative, passionate, generous, warm-hearted, cheerful, humorous

Weaknesses: Arrogant, stubborn, self-centered, lazy, inflexible

Likes: Theater, taking holidays, being admired, expensive things, bright colors, fun with friends

Dislikes: Being ignored, facing difficult reality, not being treated like a king or queen

Aware of their desires and personality, they can easily ask for everything they need, but could just as easily unconsciously neglect the needs of other people in their chase for personal gain or status. Leo is generous, faithful and a truly loyal friend, born with a certain dignity and commitment to individual values. Tuned to themselves for the most part, they tend to become independent as soon as possible. Still, a Leo will do anything to protect their loved ones.

Willow: Taurus

Strengths: Reliable, patient, practical, devoted, responsible, stable

Weaknesses: Stubborn, possessive, uncompromising

Taurus likes: Gardening, cooking, music, romance, high quality clothes, working with hands

Taurus dislikes: Sudden changes, complications, insecurity of any kind, synthetic fabrics

They are loyal and don't like sudden changes, criticism or the chase of guilt people are often prone to, being somewhat dependable on other people and emotions they seem to be unable to let go of. Still, no matter their potential emotional challenge, these individuals have the ability to bring a practical voice of reason in any chaotic and unhealthy situation. People born in this sign are loyal and always willing to lend a hand of friendship, although they can be closed up for the outer world before they build trust for new social contacts they make. Many of their friendships begin in childhood with a tendency to last them a lifetime.

Gus: Gemini Strengths: Gentle, affectionate, curious, adaptable, ability to learn quickly and exchange ideas

Weaknesses: Nervous, inconsistent, indecisive

Gemini likes: Music, books, magazines, chats with nearly anyone, short trips around the town

Gemini dislikes: Being alone, being confined, repetition and routine

They are fascinated with the world itself, extremely curious, with a constant feeling that there is not enough time to experience everything they want to see. Gemini's changeable and open mind makes them excellent artists, especially writers and journalists.

Lilith: Virgo

Strengths: Loyal, analytical, kind, hardworking, practical

Weaknesses: Shyness, worry, overly critical of self and others, all work and no play

Virgo likes: Animals, healthy food, books, nature, cleanliness

Virgo dislikes: Rudeness, asking for help, taking center stage

This is a sign often misunderstood, not because they lack the ability to express, but because they won’t accept their feelings as valid, true, or even relevant when opposed to reason. Their goals and dreams still have strictly defined borders in their mind. People born with their Sun in Virgo are very dedicated to their family and attentive to elderly and sick people. They understand tradition and the importance of responsibility, proud of their upbringing and everything that made their mind be as dominant as it is.

Amity: Scorpio or Capricorn

Strengths: Resourceful, brave, passionate, stubborn, a true friend

Weaknesses: Distrusting, jealous, secretive, violent

Scorpio likes: Truth, facts, being right, longtime friends, teasing, a grand passion

Scorpio dislikes: Dishonesty, revealing secrets, passive people

They are excellent leaders because they are very dedicated to what they do. Scorpios hate dishonesty and they can be very jealous and suspicious, so they need to learn how to adapt more easily to different human behaviors.

Capricorn

Strengths: Responsible, disciplined, self-control, good managers

Weaknesses: Know-it-all, unforgiving, condescending, expecting the worst

Capricorn likes: Family, tradition, music, understated status, quality craftsmanship

Capricorn dislikes: Almost everything at some point

Capricorn speaks of each natural chain reaction of fear, Immersed in their secrecy, they face the world just as they are – brave enough to never run away, but constantly afraid of their inner monsters. Capricorn women are ambitious, persistent, responsible and reliable. She only wants to find someone to make her smile, and can’t wait to open up and feel the real pull of emotion that makes her warm up to the possibilities that lie in the future. It will take some time for her to lower her guard and feel safe and comfortable enough to show just how sensitive and caring she can be when she is in love.

Edric and Emira: Aquarius

Strengths: Progressive, original, independent, humanitarian

Weaknesses: Runs from emotional expression, temperamental, uncompromising, aloof

Likes: Fun with friends, helping others, fighting for causes, intellectual conversation, a good listener

Dislikes: Limitations, broken promises, being lonely, dull or boring situations, people who disagree with them

Aquarius-born have a reputation for being cold and insensitive persons, but this is just their defence mechanism against premature intimacy. They need to learn to trust others and express their emotions in a healthy way.

#the owl house #luz noceda #eda the owl lady #king #of demons #willow park #edalyn clawthorn #lillith clawthorn #gus porter #amity blight #edric blight #emira blight #blight twins #zodiac signs #hcs

[diamo-chan]

AAAAANGST  (ﾉ^∇^)ﾉﾟ

(not beta-read – we die like men)

Pairing: Eloise x Ethan - what else could you expect of me (￢ε￢)

Word count: 1,8k

They were all chilling in the living room, Beliath annoying Vladimir to pass the time when he was locked in the mansion instead of relaxing in the Moondance, with Ethan, who was sulking upstairs, Aaron and Raphael were leaning against each other, reading in silent harmony, because there was no way they would leave the house when the water was coming down in buckets. No one knew where Ivan was, but most likely he locked himself in his room.  

Eloise went upstairs to the attic to get new candles, after the thunderstorm has left the mansion without electricity, and the last candle on the holder went out. No problem for the vampire boys. But Eloises senses were kind of gone at this level of darkness, so she had to follow the wall on her way to the second floor, it made her struggle even at the first set of stairs.

While she passes one door there is suddenly a shriek from within as lightning floods the hallway from the end of the corridor. At that point she notices that her hand lies on the door of the boys bathroom.  There were sounds coming from behind that door. Whimpers and whispers.

Jumpy? Crying? Apparently she found Ivan. Carefully Eloise knocked at the door to not startle him any further.

“Ivan? Are you alright?”

The answer came quick and almost unexpected: “Fuck. Off.“

Nope… not Ivan. The usual energy was drained of any bite that those words might have held under different circumstances. But that didn’t stop her from her plan. No way she would let someone cry on their own, this was not something she would be able forgive herself for. In the orphanage there was always someone who took care of those who were at the edge of breaking under the care of the strict educators and social workers. Even worse than the feeling of abandonment in the past, was the lack of love in the present. This is why everyone needed people who care about them. Even total assholes. Even Ethan.

“I will come in, Ethan.” It was a warning, not a question. And she didn’t even give him the time to get to the door and lock it, pressing herself against the old wood

“No… “ The weak sound of objection that rang through the door, it broke at the end.

She entered the boys bathroom and locked the door behind her out of reflex. It was everything she had imagined: a little bit messy, with that typical masculine smell and tons of different shampoos that could belong to no other than Beliath.

In the furthest corner, between the toilet and the bathtub, sat Ethan, on the tile floor, knees pulled all the way up to his chin. His hands were clenching and unclenching while pressed to his sides. And he looked angry that she entered without being asked in. maybe angry was not the right word. But to put it simple: he looked like shit.

Not in an insulting way, but rather his face was a grotesque mask of over-layering emotions and he was having a hard time in keeping up the one of fury while suppressing the rest. Eloise believed that there was even relieve, somewhere among those layers.

One step away from Ethan the girl sat down on the edge of the tub and leaned down so her torso was laying on her thighs. This brought them on the same eye level. Hastily he removed the streams of his tears with his shirt. Every rumble of thunder made him tense up, while his gaze locked itself on the floor somewhere in front of her feet.  The echo in the small tiled room made the sound of the rain incredibly loud, a constant rushing that overscreamed the silence and muffled his sniffles. Eloise felt the weight of the loneliness that surrounded him. It was surely different when he was in the club, surrounded by people, the bass in his bones, the alcohol in his veins. There was a terribly sober and drowning feel to this.

“You should come downstairs. Sit with the others, keep yourself in company.” Eloise suggested.

Ethan forced a laugh and his eyes were cold when they met her grey ones, there was a resignation to the pressuring fear clouding them. “And give them the satisfaction of seeing me pathetic like that.”

‘They would not care’, Eloise wanted to say, but stopped herself. He would definitely get it the wrong way. No, she didn’t know her housemates well enough to reassure him that way. And even if she did care, the others might not be the best at helping, if Ethan decided to stay here, on the cold tiles, between toilet and tub. Gloves off, hair wet, whether it was from sweat or water, didn’t matter. But his fear did!

She crouched down to his eye level and took his face into her hands to prevent him from hiding in his shell. The blue irises of his hid a storm and were surely competing with the sky outside by the way they were shooting lightnings her way, in annoyance of her intrusing way of handling him. He was an ugly crier, she took note of it, the red of his puffy eyes stood out even more in contrast to his generally pale complexion.

He bared his fangs in a desperate attempt of scaring her away. But Eloise didn’t even move an inch. With the seconds that passed a whole story was told by his face as his fury lit up even more intensely after the confusion over her neutrality passed. She could see his hands shake with the wish to slap hers away. A thought crossed his mind and once again there were tears at the brim of falling. The brilliant white of his hair has adapted a sullen and grayish tone. Denying them was futile, in the face of the situation she found him in.

Thunder shook the windows with a mite that could only come from the fact that it was right above them. Drops fell unto his knees. It was so very bright, suddenly, Eloise had to shield her tired eyes.  In the luminance of the moment, she could see the whole extend of the chaos in Ethan’s heart that was reflected on the young bony features. It snapped. He gave up. The light in his eyes dimmed. It looked as if he died over again.

She stood back up and turned to the door, shaken to the core, fleeing from the responsibility that was too much for her, when a shaking, sweaty hand clamped down around her wrist to stop her in her motion. He had leapt after her, was on his knees, one hand against the floor to keep his balance, the other holding hers to prevent her from leaving. “Wait... Stay…”

Eloise exhaled deeply. She didn’t want to leave him alone, but seeing him like this made her insides clench with the knowledge that she could not heal this. It wasn’t as easy as giving him blood and everything is back to normal. And since the hope that he will one day open up to her entirely is a tiny flame in a windy valley, any wrong word might cause him to push her away again. Maybe Raphael would know what to do, or Aaron, or Beliath as he is the closest to him.

“The others are still waiting for new candles. I can get someone… Beliath or-“

He shook his head. “They will manage. You will hurt yourself in the darkness.“

Blinking her surprise away, she came back to him, closer, so close that her knees were touching his. He was right, the others were vampires, they would not crave the light. But more importantly Ethan had asked for her company. It was almost strange with how she felt like the personification of cancer whenever he talked to her. But now… this Ethan was different.

She unclasped the hand, he was holding her with, so she could sit down next to him. There was a resistance before he let go. Was he afraid that she would run?

Instead she supported herself against the bashtub when she sank to the floor. Eloise was between the tub and the vampire, who made no movement to pull away or give her more room, the chalice ended up presses flush against him. Once she was more or less comfortably seated she felt a tingle against her hand. Then the caressing pressure of fingers interwining with hers. Her heart skipped a beat and there was surely a bright red blush covering her from the roots of her black hair down to her décolleté.

Ethan rested his head against her collarbone. The movement was slow, hesitant, to give her the chance to back out of it, to break their proximity. But she gave him more room to get comfortable and rest instead, moved her hair out of the way so he would lay on her skin. His mouth was right next to her neck, close to the marks what were slowly fading. If all of this would turn out to be a lie, would he bring her to the edge of death? Again?

Eloise’s hand reached up and let her nails comb through his hair that was indeed sweaty, but that did not matter. In a slow pace she massaged his scalp in the way that always comforted her as a child. Surprisingly enough, he let her, even pressed closer to her. A content hum escaped his involuntarily curling lips. Docile like that, he was like a child, with a small pout on his lips; his attempt, to go unnoticed, failed. His cheeks were still warm from crying; forehead feverish from the racing thoughts, that must occupy his mind. She felt the goosebumps on the arm where their fingers were interwined. How long has he been here before she found him? The wish to hug him rose up in his chest, but that would be too much for now. Don’t rush Eloise.

His breathing became even and calm. The weight of his head was a steady reminder of his vulnerability, the just how breakable this moment was. In his trust she let herself relax as well. Slumping down into a more comfortable sitting position while still supporting the white haired boy.

In her own dozy half-sleep Eloise heard footsteps come closer. Someone pulled the handle of the bathroom door, only to find it locked. Ethan’s lashes fluttered slightly but fell back shut, the hand that was holding hers tightened a bit. The young girl smiled and let her eyes rest as well.

Tomorrow she would whine to him about her sore neck. So his hands do those wonders to her already tensed muscles. Even if his sole motivation was to keep her quiet.  She would have to accept that. Just one more of the many things, she was willingly accepting, when it came to Ethan.

#moonlight lovers #moonlight lovers headcanon #a very long one #i bet no one will read this til the end #but i wanted to write #the bathroom scene #using the last week of vacation until christmas

[mimiwrites2000]

Legends

Chapter Nine ~

AO3 ~~

Pairings: Armin x Annie/ Eren x Mikasa (other pairings will be added as the story goes on)

Words count: 3157

* spoilers for chapter 127 and up

Summary:

an injury

a miracle

an understanding

and maybe 'everything happens for a reason' holds some truth in it, and all of it leads to that tingle of emotions with unsolvable maze that hypnotize its victims

~a story of broken hearts who are searching for a cure while mending each other’s wounds

“You did what?!” Armin’s eyes widened, he thought he didn’t hear right because there was no way Eren actually-

“I asked her to marry me,” Eren said once again, not turning or moving in the slightest.

“Are you fucking serious?!” Armin paced around, his hands on his head, his eyes flickering to Eren then to the sky then to the ground.

“What were you thinking?” Armin asked, appalled and at the same time grateful that he was the one in this situation; not Jean. Armin took two steps forward, sat beside Eren, more like dropped beside him, and for the first time got a good look of his face.

Eren’s beard was growing out, though uneven; some places on his chin were empty, or did he pluck these hairs out? His hair was growing past his shoulders. He had a poker face on, and that frustrated Armin even more.

“Did you really…” Armin said through his teeth, surprised that his own voice sounded breathy and compressed, “d-did you really think she’d just… she’d just say yes?!”

Eren didn’t respond, but he did fidget for the first time, and Armin could tell that he was getting uncomfortable. Armin wanted Eren to beg the earth to split and swallow him.

“Eren, you’re… you’re…” Armin was trying to look for a suitable word, but his mind went blank, and he couldn’t think of anything to say, so he blurted out: “y-you’re stupid!”

Eren cracked a smirk at that, the corners of his eyes crinkled, and Armin noticed that his eyes were blood shot, just like Mikasa’s.

“Okay, uh, w-what else did you say to her?” Armin asked, both his hands on his head, ruffling his hair.

Eren took a few seconds to answer, as if he was having trouble remembering: “I apologized to her.”

“Yeah no shit! You don’t say you actually did that!”

Eren didn’t reply to Armin’s sarcastic comment, instead he watched the stream, a golden fish was thrashing its tail against the flow, fighting versus the undeterred water, flipping on its back countless times.

Armin wanted Eren to look him straight in the eyes and tell him that all of this is a joke, but Eren didn’t, and Armin had no idea what he was supposed to do with him.

“At least… you could’ve at least waited! you can’t just straight up ask her that. God, Eren I know you’re a hopeless romantic, but that’s just… stupid!”

“Well, I don’t really know what to do!” Eren said, exasperation interfering with his monotone voice.

“You could’ve asked for advice, dammit!”

“Advice?”

“I don’t know! Anything! But not straight up proposing!” Armin took a deep breath, “you know Jean is waiting for a chance to kill you, and you just gave him the perfect opening.”

“You think he’s better for Mikasa, don’t you?” Eren asked out of nowhere, chewing on the inside of his cheek, making his cheekbones prominent.

“I…” started Armin, but he didn’t know how to finish his sentence, “I don’t know…”

“We both know that Jean would treat Mikasa better, he’d never hurt her like I did,” Eren hugged his knees to his chest, burying his face between them, he looked small and weak.

Armin’s lips opened the tiniest bit at how Eren’s hunched back reminded him of their days on the streets, before they joined the training corps. Back then, Eren was just a weak kid with anger boiling inside of him.

Chaotic times, but much simpler than these days.

Armin closed his eyes, let out a long sigh, then said: “Jean would never hurt Mikasa in any way, everyone knows that.”

Eren sank more into himself.

“But,” Armin continued, “it’s not about Jean, it’s about Mikasa, she’d never want to be with Jean, because…” Armin rolled his eyes over his own feeble choice of words, “everyone knows… how much she cares for you.”

After a few moments of silence, Eren sighed, the sigh weighted and labored, then he whispered: “I’m not begging for atonement, what I did is… irredeemable, but…” He threw his hands in the air, “Mikasa has nothing to do with it! I-”

Eren stopped, he looked at his hands, those hands that did horrible, atrocious acts. Red moisture oozed from between his fingers, tracking down a path of crimson down his wrist.

Thud, thud…

They dripped on the dirt, puddling into a damp darkened spot.

Eren swallowed and shook his head; this is not real. He lowered them, tilting his head down to his feet, and whispered: “I just want to make it up for her…”

The sounds of the stream accompanied with the wind rustling the leaves, creating a harmony, a tone orchestrated by nature… forming a relatively calming blend.

“Would you forgive me?” Eren asked, his eyes not wavering from the rocks underneath his shoes.

Armin wondered; would he be able to forgive Eren? Can he forget what happened and move forward?

Did he want to forgive Eren?

Armin’s eyes darted to the stream, the golden fish was still fighting the current, writhing in the water, until another golden fish wrestled its way to it, then nudged it with its head several times. Then, both turned and swam together with the stream, further away from Eren and Armin, where the water wasn’t violent, but it was tranquil and undisturbed.

“I’ll try…” Armin finally answered, still watching the trace of the two golden fishes. He confessed these words from the bottom of his heart, no lies, just a naked truth.

“Thanks…” Eren muttered, hugging himself.

Insecurity and uncertainty draped over Eren. Armin gawked at him, dozens of questions swirling in his head about the rumbling, the founder, the past and the future, but at the same time he had the sudden urge to hug Eren and forget all about it. Instead, Armin stretched a hand and patted Eren twice on the back.

“So, uh…” Armin started, the memory he saw also took a considerate space in his mind; the one with himself standing on an altar by the beach, but he couldn’t bring himself to talk about it, so he dodged his own thoughts and resumed: “did you had a ring?”

Not the best dodge.

Eren snorted, and Armin saw him smiling the first genuine smile in months, if not years.

They spoke with hushed voices, not wanting to disturb the nature around them, and they didn’t get back to the cottage until sunset.

When Armin walked into the cottage with Eren by his side, Jean threw daggers with his eyes at them, Armin rose his eyebrows, gesturing for Jean to not do anything reckless, but he didn’t seem like he planned anything; Mikasa probably told him so.

The next morning, Magath, Hanji and Gabi sat off towards the harbor, leaving the rest with nothing to do but wait.

~~~

Annie had a plenty of time on her hands to observe everyone as much as she wanted.

Connie was remarkably taller; she vividly remembers him being the dwarf of the 104th squad. Jean’s long hair suited him, and he looked older than his age, he looked like the type of guy to live in a fancy apartment and have wine on breakfast on Mondays.

Mikasa seemed… charming, but now it’s more prominent than ever, her hair alone was gorgeous, and Annie wondered how it would look like if it was longer…

Historia was and would always be the goddess.

Annie tried to avoid Levi as much as she could.

Annie talked to Reiner, but they avoided the heavy topics. An inaudible deal was shared between them to never talk about any sensitive matters, to never talk about what happened after she crystalized herself, about Bert’s death…

Eren was completely different too, the eager kid she remembered seems to have never existed. His forests glinting eyes were substituted with dull orbs, dark circles framing them, protruding them, sinking them more into their sockets, however, he seemed to get his spark back the more he spent time with Armin.

And yeah, Armin.

Now the dwarf of the group.

After some time thinking about it, Annie decided, from behind, he looked like a tough man, with broad shoulders, but the moment he’d turn and she laid her eyes on his face, the 15 years old kid with the weakest muscles is all she could see.

Armin’s face never changed, even with his new haircut, his baby face is something that would never change about him.

Armin would catch Annie staring sometimes; when he’d be sitting up the table, Annie would be on the farthest couch tracking each of his movements, and when Armin catches her, he’d smile and continue whatever he was doing.

Annie wondered if he thought of her as a creep.

But one day, Annie was the one to catch Armin staring.

Annie was outside, it was her turn to hang the laundry, and in the middle of it, she turned around and saw Armin standing at the threshold of the cottage, a basket filled with laundry in his hands. Armin’s cheeks immediately flushed red, and he stuttered some intangible words before he thrusted the basket in Annie’s arms and hurried inside.

It seemed that someone else noticed this ‘glances’ contest going on between them.

Mr. Leonhart.

Incontrovertibly, Mr. Leonhart would never be fine with someone he barely knew glancing at his daughter, and what triggered him more is that his daughter was stealing looks at him too.

And that was the same person who ratted his daughter out four years ago.

One evening, Mr. Leonhart followed Armin outside when he left to get wood for the fire.

“Good evening, young man.” Mr. Leonhart greeted.

Armin jumped and the wood he was carrying fell, missing his toes by an inch, he didn’t bend down to pick them up, instead, he stood erected and stuttered out: “O-oh Mr. Leonhart! Good evening t-to you too!”, his voice was a few notches higher.

“I was meaning to talk to you.” Mr. Leonhart said, one hand behind his back, the other clutched around the cane handle.

“Y-yeah sure! Is something wrong?” Armin rubbed his hands together; it was chilly outside.

“No, nothing is wrong… yet,” Mr. Leonhart took a step forward, “I was just thinking that I should inform you that…” He tapped his cane twice on the dirt, “after all of this is over, me and my daughter, Annie, are going back to Marley. We are aiming to compensate all those lost years and live in peace for the rest of our lives.”

Armin didn’t know what Mr. Leonhart expected him to say: “Yeah, sure, I want Annie to be happy-”

“Annie being happy or not has nothing to do with you, or this place.”

Armin’s brain paused, he blinked thrice trying to catch up with what Mr. Leonhart just chucked at him, he wanted to say something but couldn’t risk it, he knew he would stutter and make a fool of himself.

But when Mr. Leonhart turned his back and walked leisurely to the cottage, his chest puffed up despite leaning on his cane for support, the words flew out of Armin’s mouth, as if he had practiced them a million times before: “Annie’s happiness isn’t associated with someone or with a place, her happiness can only come from within herself.”

Mr. Leonhart halted in his steps, turned his head to the side, examining Armin from the corner of his eyes, but he didn’t reply, he merely drew circles with his cane on the dirt, got a better footing for it, and with deliberate steps, headed inside the cottage, leaving Armin standing there, looking down at the wood scattered by his feet.

~~~

Armin kept an eye on Mikasa, and he realized that he was the only one who knew that Eren proposed to her, but everyone was aware that something was up with her; she was distracted all the time. One time, she almost spilled boiling soup all over herself, after it, no one trusted Mikasa with anything that could hurt her.

Jean was the most irritated about this, but each time he tried to talk it out with Mikasa, she’d politely shove him away, and told him that she’s okay.

Jean never believed her.

The way Mikasa would dodge Eren was almost unbearable, she’d sit on the farthest available spot away from him, never look at his direction or acknowledge him in anyway. She would turn around if she crossed paths with him, she would distract herself with the hem of her shirt if the conversation involved Eren.

Until one night…

Just like they got used to; everyone shared the living room as a bedroom. The only two bedrooms were occupied with the two people in need of a bed; Historia and her kid, and Levi.

As always, Mikasa would lay her sleeping bag in the farthest available spot from Eren.

That night, Armin sleeping with Eren on his side, his mind never shut down, his thoughts were buzzing in his head, one time he would be thinking about Mikasa and Eren…

Armin was clueless of what to do with his two childhood friends, a part of him wanted to lock them in a room until they figured it out, but the other part told him to let them be, maybe it was better if he should let them find their way back to each other, even if it would take years.

Another time Armin would think about Annie, he had so many things to tell her, he wanted to sit by her side all day, he wanted to be with her, but some concealed barrier was holding him back.

Something in him told him to stay away.

And what was he supposed to do with her father?

Armin understood where Mr. Leonhart was coming from; Annie is his only daughter whom whereabouts were unknown for nine years. Any father would be protective over his daughter…

But Armin didn’t want any harm to Annie, hell, he would rather hurt himself than see a tear down her cheeks.

Annie went through enough.

She deserved peace.

She deserved happiness.

And if her happiness meant to stay away from Armin, then he would gladly vanish from her life.

Even if it would shatter him…

Armin’s thoughts would jump to Hanji and the rest who still didn’t come back-

Armin heard the shuffling of someone getting up.

Then he saw Mikasa tiptoe carefully across the room, slithering between sleeping bags, and when she got closer to him, he closed his eyes and pretended to be fast asleep.

However, Mikasa didn’t stop by him, she sneaked to the person sleeping next to him.

Eren.

Mikasa slowly lifted Eren’s blanket and slid beside him. Eren stirred, opening his eyes, which widened the moment he saw Mikasa’s eyes right in front of his face, he blinked twice, not sure if he was still dreaming.

“Mikasa…?” Eren whispered, his voice hoarse and thick with sleep, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion, the pupil in his eyes doubling in size, trying to figure out Mikasa’s silhouette in the pitch-black room.

“Yes,” Mikasa said, her voice a little bit louder than Eren’s.

“Yes…?” he asked, then his eyebrows gradually rose up his forehead.

“I mean… if your… proposal… is still up…” Mikasa said, regret seeped into her mind, snickering in a corner, and she started to question if it was too late now to hop back into her sleeping bag.

“Yes!” Eren said, suddenly enthusiastic, shooting up on his elbow, Mikasa put her finger on his mouth, shushing him, then he laid down again and repeated in a lower voice, nodding his head, “yes, yes...”

Eren glanced at Mikasa’s finger on his mouth, and she immediately withdrew it. Her cheeks were heating up with each time her heart pumped blood into her veins, she didn’t know if Eren could see her face, but she was sure he would feel the heat radiating from the embarrassment she inserted herself in.

Eren’s mouth was agape, he couldn’t see Mikasa in the dark, but he saw the unmistakable shiny black orbs of hers. He kept his hands by his sides, his fingers trembling, yearning to run in her hair. Eren wouldn’t want to creep her away, he still didn’t believe if she was by his side or if his desperate desire to hold her close had finally turned him into a lunatic.

“Good,” Mikasa muttered, she sighed and sank deeper into the blankets, Eren only stared at her, and she avoided his eyes because one look at them and she’d really run back to her own sleeping bag.

A moment of silence passed, Eren’s eyes still wide and unbelieving.

After two hesitant failed attempts, Eren wrapped both his arms around Mikasa, and with equal hesitance, she hugged him back, burying her face in his chest, hiding her flaming cheeks.

Armin heard everything, and he was smiling at himself like an idiot, he was using all the power he had to not shoot up and hug both of his childhood friends.

The fog in Armin’s mind cleared up, and slowly the excitement he felt was wearing off, and sleep was taking over him.

That night, Armin slept with a bunch of ‘I love you’s muttered behind his back until they faded out, and everything was tranquil and quiet.

The next morning, it was a shock, to say the least, for everyone to wake up to Eren and Mikasa sleeping on the same pillow, with their bodies pressed together.

It was Historia who found them; she was an early riser and the first to wake up, and when she checked on everyone else, she noticed that Mikasa’s sleeping bag was vacant.

Historia didn’t give it much thought, Mikasa would probably be outside already, working out or something, but when Historia got to where Eren was sleeping, she saw that he seemed… curled on himself, she got concerned if he was in pain, but she couldn’t tell because the covers were over his face.

Historia crouched beside him and slowly lifted the blanket up.

Her squeal woke Armin up.

Armin shot up from his blankets, ready to strike, but froze when he saw Historia peaking at Eren with her eyes even more significant than they already are, her hand covering her mouth.

Historia only motioned between the two heads under the blanket.

A laugh escaped Armin, and it wasn’t at Historia’s childish behavior; he too felt like squealing, but that Eren and Mikasa were in an unstirred sleep to the point where everyone woke up and was staring at them; they didn’t even fidget.

Mikasa wouldn’t look into anyone’s eyes for the next week, probably, Armin thought, folding his blankets.

After the shock wore off, everyone decided that it would be better if they let them sleep some more, they both were undoubtedly sleep deprived for being out of it during all the chaos.

They slept until noon.

.

.

~~~

uh, are you guys enjoying this?

#aruani #armin arlert #Annie Leonhardt #armin x annie #eremika #Eren Jaeger #Mikasa Ackerman #eren x mikasa #aot #snk #fanfiction

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Finding Harmony - Ch 5 M Major

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Luka had never cared about clothes much. Sure he had a style, but it wasn’t something he thought consciously about, it was just things he liked to wear. He was doing this modeling thing as a favor for Juleka, and to spend time with Marinette. The clothes, until today, had mostly been an afterthought.

He wasn’t prepared for the wave of emotion that hit him once he was standing there, in clothes that Marinette designed and made with him in mind. 

This was why he loved her. This was what he’d seen that day, when she walked into his room wide-eyed and stammering. Something in his soul had recognized her, when he had given her a song and she had received it, not with blank confusion, plastic smiles, or guarded hostility, but with reverence and wonder and gratitude. Marinette took all the bits of himself that he gave, and cradled and treasured them, because she understood. Because she was the same. Because he was standing here wearing a song she wrote with color and cloth and the work of her hands and it was absolutely wrecking him.

Juleka was right, he was hopeless. 

“Luka, is everything okay?” Marinette called, and he realized he’d been standing there too long.

He steadied his voice as best he could and called back, “Yeah, everything’s fine, I’m dressed. These clothes are amazing, Marinette.”

She got him. Marinette absolutely, one hundred percent got him, from the subdued base colors to the pops of brightness, to the way the snake motifs were simultaneously edgy and whimsical enough to be nonthreatening. The shirt fit closer than anything else he ever wore, but it was comfortable and not clingy. The jeans, subtly textured to mimic the lines of Viperion’s suit, felt like an inside joke between the two of them, made even funnier because she didn’t know that he knew she knew.

He took one more steadying breath and stepped out from behind the screen.

Marinette did an excited little wiggle. “Oh, you look so good, just like I imagined! Ooh, I love it when a project comes together. How does it feel, do I need to fix anything? Turn around.”

“It feels great, Marinette, really, it’s like they were made for me.” He winked at her as he turned slowly.

“Hang on, there’s a loose thread back here...there.” Marinette stepped back. “Perfect.” She looked up into his face. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.” Luka stepped close and gripped her shoulder. “I really do. You’re an artist, Marinette.” He grinned. “Sneaky, too. You didn’t have any of this detail done the last time I was here.” He turned slightly to indicate the patches of different textured fabric on the jeans. 

Marinette giggled. “It’s true, I saved some things for last so you’d still be surprised.” 

“I’m speechless, really.” He dropped his hand and stepped back, gesturing her towards the other screen. “But you better…” Marinette nodded and turned away as he turned to look in her full length mirror. He could see then just how well the clothes complimented his body. Luka wasn’t especially vain, but his face heated a little bit as he wondered exactly how much time she’d spent looking at him to get such results. 

“How’s Juleka doing?” He heard Marinette whisper to Rose, who was standing at the corner of Juleka’s screen. 

“She’s freaking out a little bit,” Rose whispered back. “I think I can calm her down, I just need a little more time.”

“Take as long as she needs,” Marinette told Rose, and then she turned to Luka. “Why don’t I go on down and meet Alya at the park?” Marinette suggested, putting a hand on his arm. “Come down when you’re ready, okay? No pressure, we’ve got plenty of time.”

“Thanks Marinette,” Luka smiled at her. “I’ll play for her a bit, that might help calm her down.”

“Perfect. Okay, we’ll see you in a few minutes. Meet us by the near fountain when you’re ready.” Marinette went down through the trapdoor.

Luka picked up his ever-present guitar and sat on Marinette’s chaise, playing a familiar, comforting melody just to remind Juleka that he was there with her. 

After a few minutes his sister finally emerged from the screen, paler even than usual, but breathing steadily. Luka smiled as he looked Juleka over. He wasn’t sure how they’d done it but her hair was smoothed back into a low tail, the purple tips of her bangs tucked under the rest of her hair so the color didn’t show and clash with the blues and reds accenting the black clothes, and she wore combs on the sides of her head with a beaded version of Marinette’s snake motif. The flowy shirt had lace accents edging a wide collar that exposed Juleka’s collarbone, paired with sleek black pants that were textured similar to his own. Her outfit was both Juleka and Marinette, with a vibe that mixed Juleka’s edge with Marinette’s sweetness, and lent Juleka a bit of Marinette’s boldness as well. There was no hiding in this outfit, even with Juleka curling in on herself in nervousness. Luka got up and maneuvered her in front of the long mirror, so she could see herself. 

“I like it,” was all he said, but Juleka glowed, her shoulders straightening as she looked herself over, and he swallowed against another rush of emotion to see her stand proud. “Well,” he said, smiling at her reflection, “Are we ready to do this?”

Juleka gave him a decisive nod, and led the way down the stairs. 

Marinette had her back to them as they approached, and she was clearly arguing with Alya about something. 

“No, Alya. I’m going to go with Luka and we’re going to have fun and there’s not going to be any pressure or awkwardness or drama, end of story. Anyway, I asked him weeks ago, I’m not going to bail on him now.”

“I still think you’re missing a chance, but if you’ve already asked him then I guess—oh, hey guys! Ready to rock the camera, you two?” Alya waved and Marinette turned quickly, blushing as Luka and Juleka approached. 

“Great, you’re here,” Marinette said, putting on a smile that was only a little strained.

“Everything okay?” Luka asked her quietly as Alya turned away.

“Yeah, just a difference of opinion,” Marinette smiled thinly. “We’re having a lot of those lately, but we’re working on it. At least this time she took no for an answer, so that’s progress.” She smiled at Juleka. “Ready Juleka? How do you feel?” 

“Okay,” Juleka said, fidgeting. Her shoulders were rolling forward again as her chin dropped toward her chest. Rose took her hand.

“Just like the plan, Juleka,” Marinette said gently, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll start out here at the fountain, and then if we feel up to it, we’ll try a few other places through the park. We’ve got plenty of time so we can take a break any time you need to. We’re aiming for way more pictures than we actually need, so don’t feel pressured. Then just before sunset when we have the best light, we’ll change you both into the formal clothes.” 

Juleka nodded her understanding. 

“As for poses, I have some reference pictures to get us started, and then as you get comfortable, we can just roll from there.” She patted Juleka’s shoulder. “If you need a break, don’t be afraid to let us know, okay? ”

Juleka dipped her head in a way that normally would have hidden her face, ashamed of her weakness. “Okay,” she mumbled.

Luka lifted his hand to rest it on her shoulder but he was distracted as Alya put one fist on her hip, and proclaimed, “Man, I had no idea you were packing guns like that, Luka. Marinette, he needs a tattoo. He doesn’t look right without one. Maybe you could draw the snake on him with a sharpie or something.”

“Alya, he doesn’t need a tattoo, his arms are nice the way they are,” Marinette replied decisively, pushing Luka gently towards the bench by the fountain and scowling back at her friend. 

“Ohhhh are they now,” Alya drawled, cocking a hip and shooting a smug look at Marinette, who spluttered. 

“I’m just saying he’s fine the way he is!” she flailed, and then turned to Luka. “I mean, not that you would look bad with a tattoo if you wanted one, but you don’t need one.”

Luka snorted, seating himself on the bench. “I’d love one but I’m a total wuss around needles.”

Marinette paused her freakout and looked at him. “Really?”

“Absolute truth.”

“But your ears are pierced.”

Juleka snickered. “He passed out.”

“And she’s never going to let me forget it,” Luka sighed. 

“Not in a million years,” Juleka grinned back at him. 

“Big talk from someone who’s afraid of a few pictures,” Luka challenged, eyebrows raised. “Are you coming over here or what?”

A flush lit Juleka’s pale cheeks and he winced, afraid he’d pushed too far, but Marinette took her cheerfully by the hand and led her to the bench. She sat down between them for a moment, showing them the pictures she’d brought.

It was smart, giving them a place to start from, though Luka frequently had a hard time keeping a straight face as they tried to get into the poses. Marinette finally rolled her eyes at him and told him to go ahead and laugh so he could be serious when it was time for the pictures. 

While he did manage to keep a straight face once they really got started, the awkward feeling didn’t leave him. Luka tried not to mind. He was really doing this for Juleka and Marinette, anyway, and he was willing to feel stupid for a while for their sakes. Marinette kept up a cheerful stream of praise and chatter and Rose was bubbling over with enthusiasm as always. Juleka began to relax and get into it, even giggling once or twice at Marinette’s silliness or blushing at Rose’s enthusiastic praise. Pride swelled in his chest as Juleka’s confidence grew; she really was gorgeous and it was gratifying to see her come to life, out of the protective shell she’d so carefully built around herself. 

“Oh, are you guys doing a little photoshoot? How cute!”

The saccharine voice was unfamiliar and somehow thoroughly unpleasant, but Luka didn’t break pose until he heard Alya’s camera click. He felt Juleka draw closer to him, nearly hiding behind him, and he looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. She bit her lip and raised her hand as if to brush her bangs forward, but stopped.

Marinette planted herself squarely between her models and the newcomer. Newcomers, Luka realized. He didn’t recognize the girl with the long hair but Adrien had come up behind her. Great, he thought, glancing at Juleka again and then back at Marinette. Just what we needed. 

“Hi guys,” said Adrien, looking more on edge than Luka had ever seen him. Or maybe it wasn’t the way he looked, maybe it was the way he sounded, a stressed out edge to his voice that was at odds with his relaxed stance. “Doing some more work for your website, Marinette? The designs look great, really unique.” 

“They’re definitely not like anything I’ve ever seen,” the girl said, and though the words were innocent, somehow they sounded like an insult. Luka felt his shoulders tensing up.

“Isn’t it cool, Lila? Marinette’s always been plugged in to the rock ‘n roll aesthetic,” Alya said cheerfully. “You know, with all the work she’s done for Jagged Stone, and all. It’s a smart angle to start with for the website, but you know you need to show some range too, girl! Maybe next time, you can be her inspiration model, Adrien!”

“Adrien’s a professional model, Alya,” Marinette pointed out. “He’s under contract with Gabriel and they’re very strict about using his likeness. I could get sued if Adrien modelled for me without permission.”

Adrien looked stricken. “I didn’t even think about that last time, Marinette.” 

“You’re okay! I mean, it’s okay! I didn’t think of it either until later. N-n-not that I didn’t appreciate the lelp, uh, help.” Marinette squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, then squared her shoulders and opened her eyes to smile at Adrien. “I appreciate you helping out, and of course I’m always happy to have your advice, but I think it’d be best if you didn’t appear in any more of the photos.”

Luka’s eyes widened slightly. “Whoa,” Juleka muttered beside him. “That was a whole sentence.”

“Well, of course Gabriel can’t allow Adrien to be used like that,” Lila said brightly, just the slightest emphasis turning her statement into a condemnation. Easily deniable if anyone called her out on it, Luka thought, a sour taste in his mouth. What a manipulative piece of work. Her eyes on him made his skin crawl and suddenly he was the one who wanted to hide behind Juleka.

“I’m glad to see you’re giving modelling another try, Juleka,” Adrien grinned at them, and Juleka gave him a tentative smile around Luka’s shoulder. “Don’t be shy, you look fantastic, and this is one of my favorite locations to shoot.” He waved a hand at the photographer setting up near the carousel. “Just be confident, you’ll do great.” 

Luka turned his body so that Juleka was fully visible, though he put his hand on her back for support. “She looks awesome, doesn’t she? I keep telling her how pretty she is, but I guess it doesn’t mean much coming from her brother.” Juleka scowled and socked him in the arm. “Ow, don’t bruise me before we’re done with the photos,” he teased. 

“Of course Juleka’s nervous,” giggled Lila. “I mean, there’s so much more to modeling than just being pretty. I don’t have much experience yet, but M. Agreste picked me personally, so I just know I can’t let him down. But when you’re working with an up and coming designer, you never know what people are going to think! I mean, we all know Marinette’s wonderful, but once it’s out on the web it’s out there for everybody, isn’t it, and people can be so fickle and cruel. It definitely won’t do Juleka’s modelling dreams any good if it turns out the public hates the designs.”

“Well, Marinette did win my father’s design contest,” Adrien piped up, his smile as bland as ever, but with that same stressed out edge to his voice. “And I know they gave you a release to use the photos from the show for that. That should get people’s attention, and once people are looking I know they’ll be blown away.”

“Marinette’s work speaks for itself,” Luka agreed, his own easy tone covering just how much her insinuations annoyed him. “There will always be haters, you can’t please everybody, but these are definitely the best clothes I’ve ever worn.”

“Of course,” Lila said, eyeing him up and down with a slight sneer, as if she hadn’t been blatantly checking him out a few minutes ago. Luka heard Juleka growl quietly. “I’m so lucky, modelling Gabriel clothing, you just can’t help but feel confident.” Lila gave a little twirl to show off her dress. “It makes such a difference.” She latched on to Adrien’s arm. “And having such an amazing partner to work with is a huge help. And you have such an unusual look, Juleka, I’m sure you’ll stand out no matter what people think of the clothes. Just don’t think too much about what you’re wearing and you’ll do great!”

Juleka straightened up, her shoulders going back and her uncovered eyes flashing. “Don’t worry about me,” she said, so clearly that everyone looked at her in surprise. “I feel great in this.” She struck a pose, and Alya whipped the camera up, grinning like a maniac.

“Show her how it’s done, Jule,” Luka muttered approvingly, backing out of the shot.

“That’s great, Juleka. Tilt your chin up just a little more—there, perfect!” Adrien cheered. Lila gave her “partner” a black look, but if Adrien noticed, he ignored it. The others were staring wide-eyed at Juleka as she went through a series of poses, looking like the pro Luka knew she could be. He folded his arms and grinned, winking at her when she seemed to run out of steam and glanced at him as if to ask, how did I do?

Suddenly Alya gasped. “Marinette, I have the greatest idea,” she squealed, grabbing Marinette’s arm. “Why don’t you put on the jacket and go pose with Luka?”

Marinette scowled. “Alya, that was supposed to be a surprise!” 

“Never mind that right now, put it on! It’ll be great, you’ll look like the sweet girl wearing her bad boy boyfriend’s jacket. Juleka, you don’t mind taking a quick break, do you? In fact, maybe you could do something with Marinette’s hair real quick. Luka, come back over here.”

Marinette sighed, but took a prettily wrapped package out of her bag, opened it carefully, and slipped on a denim jacket with the snake motif embroidered on the front panels. It was much too big for Marinette, and Alya was right, it did look like she was wearing her boyfriend’s jacket. He took a slow breath to banish the heat creeping up his neck, glad that he had an excellent poker face. Because he was mature and chill and he could totally pose like her boyfriend without blushing up a storm, no big deal. He glanced at Alya, who looked entirely too pleased with herself. Luka was aware from Juleka that Alya was the head of the get-Marinette-a-date posse. Whether all this achieved was pushing Marinette and Luka together, or whether they actually managed to make Adrien jealous enough to open his eyes, he supposed it was a win-win from her perspective.

Oh well, if Marinette wasn’t going to object, he wouldn’t either. 

Juleka redid Marinette’s hair into a low ponytail and put the end over her shoulder, while Rose touched up her makeup with quick, efficient movements. 

When Marinette turned towards Alya for her approval, Luka saw that the back of the jacket was intricately embroidered with more elaborate version of the snake and flowers design on his guitar. It was a stunning piece, a little bit retro and a little bit punk with just a touch of Marinette sweetness. It looked like a huge amount of work and he kind of loved it. Maybe if he ever did manage to sell a song, he could get Marinette to make him one.

“Wow, Marinette,” Adrien said admiringly, examining the detail on the jacket lapels. “That’s quality work. Really nice. And did you design the back yourself? It looks amazing.” 

“Oh, Marinette, you do so much work,” Lila chimed in. “No wonder your hands are always so rough, you must work your fingers to the bone, poor thing! It’s great to follow your passion, but you shouldn’t wear yourself out! I can tell you haven’t had much sleep lately.”

Marinette growled, and Lila’s eyes widened innocently. Alya elbowed Marientte, who just sighed. 

“Ready when you are, Marinette,” Luka said nonchalantly, putting a hand on her shoulder to guide her away. “Where do you want us, Alya?” 

“The jacket is amazing, by the way,” he added under his breath as Alya directed them back toward the fountain. “And your friend is about as charming as you described. Don’t let her get to you, she can’t ruin this.”

“Don’t underestimate her,” Marinette muttered back.

“Don’t underestimate yourself either. You’ve been fantastic all day, Marinette. You’re confident, in charge, you have a plan for everything, the clothes are fantastic, and did you see Juleka just now?”

“She was amazing, wasn’t she?” Marinette giggled. 

“Because of you. You set this whole thing up to be as relaxed as possible, you made sure she had the support she needed, you planned ahead and prepared. You set her up for success. I’m proud of her, but I’m always amazed by you.”

Luka smiled at her, and heard the camera click behind him, reminding him of the others. 

“Okay, Luka, stand over here and then lean against the bench there, like you’re almost sitting on the arm, and then Marinette, you go stand close to him.

“You might want to move a little more to the right, Marinette, so you can still see his clothes,” Adrien interjected. “There, perfect,” he grinned as Marinette adjusted.

“Luka, put your far hand on her waist and Marinette, you turn your back to me and put your hand on his shoulder—or maybe his chest would be better,” Alya directed.

“Is that okay with you?” Luka asked Marinette, who was blushing rather fiercely. 

“S-sure,” she stammered, and Luka frowned. 

“You don’t sound okay with it. You can tell Alya no if—”

“No, it’s fine, I just didn’t expect to be in front of the camera today and I’m nervous.” He watched her face as he settled a hand on her waist, but she didn’t flinch or look like she wanted to move away. Marinette raised her hand and it hovered uncertainly in front of him. “What about you, is this—”

Luka took her hand held it over his heart, cradling it in such a way that her hand was mostly resting on his hand rather than on his chest, and Alya squealed. “Oh, keep holding her hand like that, that’s perfect. Marinette, keep your back to me but turn towards him just a little bit. Perfect. Now just look like you’re in love, you too.”

Well, at least that wasn’t hard. Not for him, anyway. Luka studied Marinette’s stiff face. “Is she always this enthusiastic?” he asked with a small smile. Marinette giggled and relaxed a little.

“Yes, always,” she told him. “Always, everyday, one hundred percent. That’s Alya.”

“Marinette!” Alya called. “Get up on your toes and kiss his cheek!”

“Alyaaaa,” Marinette grumbled, and then looked up shyly at Luka. “Is that okay?”

“It’s fine with me, but only if you want to, Marinette. The world won’t end if we don’t get that specific shot. Don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Instead of answering she did as Alya directed, rising up on her toes and barely brushing her lips to Luka’s cheek, pausing there for a moment to give Alya a chance to get the shot, before pulling back. Luka tried not to smile, but didn’t succeed very well. 

Alya squealed when she checked the image and showed it to Juleka, who smirked at Luka, and to Adrien, who nodded approvingly. “Looking good.”

“They should back up a little more, closer to the fountain,” Lila suggested. 

“Great idea,” Alya replied brightly. “Luka, why don’t you get your guitar? Marinette, sit on the edge of the fountain and cross your legs.”

“Wait, let’s make sure it’s not wet first,” Lila said, hurrying forward. “Maybe over here, Marinette, come this way.”

Luka didn’t clearly see what happened, he only saw Marinette pitch forward suddenly. He lunged forward at the same time as Adrien. 

Both of them were too far away. Marientte crashed into the bowl of the fountain with a splash. 

“Oh no, Marinette!” Lila cried, jumping back just in time to avoid the wave of water that slipped over the side of the fountain. “Oh, I should have remembered how clumsy you are, I should never have suggested getting that close! All those outcroppings at the bottom, of course you tripped!” 

Luka stopped short of the bowl of the fountain and leaned over the edge, reaching for Marinette. Adrien hopped right over the edge and waded to her, catching her other arm. Together they hauled the gasping and stunned girl upright and got her seated on the edge.

“Are you all right? Did you hit your head?” Luka asked anxiously. 

“I don’t think so, it was just c-cold,” Marinette stuttered. “It knocked the wind out of me.” 

Adrien didn’t say anything, but the model’s lips were pressed in a thin line as he looked back at Lila. To Luka’s surprise, the girl openly smirked at him. She was too close for any of the girls to see it. 

“Oh, Marinette, is your jacket ruined?” She crooned, pitting her hands to her face.

“No,” Martinette gritted. “I made sure it was washable.” 

“Oh, that’s a relief,” Lila said insincerely as the other girls finally snapped out of their stupor and came running. 

“Oh, Marinette,” Alya sighed. “Girl, what a time to pull a Marinette special. At least we got a few good shots.” She looked at Luka and groaned. “And now you’re wet too. Guess that means it’s time for the wardrobe change.” 

Lila opened her mouth but Adrien cut her off. “Well, I’d say good luck, but I don’t think you need it. The weather’s great for a shoot, just enough clouds to keep the light soft. I hope you get some good shots. We’re due in makeup any minute now, so we better go.” Adrien took Lila’s upper arm and began propelling her away. “Stay confident, Juleka, you look fantastic. I can’t wait to see the pictures, Marinette.” He practically frogmarched Lila back to their waiting photographer across the square. Luka watched them go with a frown. Their whole vibe was just...weird.

“It’s almost golden hour anyway, so this is as good a time as any,” Alya shrugged. “You guys go, I’ll hang out here and wait for you.” She looked over toward the other photoshoot.

Marinette sighed, shoulders slumping. “Sure. But, why don’t we take the camera with us? I’ll go ahead and download a copy of the pictures so we have a backup. You know, in case you need more space or something.” 

Alya raised an eyebrow. “You sure, girl? You’re more likely to drop it in the street by accident. And you’re dripping wet.”

“Rose can carry it!” Marinette declared, looking over to the other photo shoot with narrowed eyes. Alya rolled her eyes.

“You’re paranoid, girl. I don’t know how you’re blaming Lila when we all know you don’t need help to fall in a fountain, but whatever.” She handed over the camera.

Marinette turned towards the rest of the group and pasted on a smile so fake Luka felt physically pained by it. “Okay, my fabulous models, back to the bakery!” She started off without looking back to see if they were following.

Luka hesitated, and then sped his long stride a little bit to catch up with Marinette. She looked up with that fake smile and he winced. “Don’t,” he said, as he put his arm around her shoulders, ignoring how wet she was. He’d already been splashed getting her out, anyway, and she hadn’t freaked out, so presumably the water wouldn’t hurt his clothes. Marinette’s smile dimmed, became a lot smaller but a lot more genuine, and she leaned into him. 

“Sorry,” she sighed.

“It’s okay. Just feel what you need to feel. You don’t have to fake it. So that was Lila, huh?” 

“Yep,” Marinette grumbled. 

“I think you were smart not to leave the camera.”

“Really?” Marinette looked up at him.

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t know the girl, but I don’t like the way she looks at you. And after everything that happened, better safe than sorry.” He bit his lip. “Did she push you in?” he asked very quietly.

“I don’t think so,” Marinette frowned. “It happened so fast. Will you think I’m paranoid if I say I think she planned it either way?” 

“No,” Luka replied grimly. “The look on her face afterward was proof enough.”

“Thanks, Luka,” Marinette sighed. “You don’t know how much it means to me to hear that someone sees what I see.” 

“I saw it. I heard it in every word she said.” Then, hoping to lighten the mood, he asked, “What’s golden hour, by the way?”

“The hour right before sunset has the best light,” she explained. “It’ll make everything look nice and soft for the formal clothes.” 

“But it means we’re on a schedule,” Luka nodded. “Got it. All right then, your dress-up doll awaits.” Marinette snorted and smacked his arm, and he chuckled.

They all trumped up the steps to her loft, Marinette waving off Mrs. Chemg’s confused questions about why her daughter was soaking wet with a “tell you later!”

“You were amazing out there, Juleka,” Marinette, now wearing dry clothes, told her over the screen. “You really showed Lila.”

“I suppose,” Juleka’s subdued voice replied. “It was just...I didn’t like...I mean, she didn’t really say anything bad, but…” There was a long pause. “I just didn’t like it.”

“She was being kind of insensitive,” Rose agreed. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to, but..”

“She meant to,” Luka said flatly, emerging from behind his own screen, straightening the suit jacket. “If I tried to play what was in that girl’s heart this afternoon, it would sound like a horror movie soundtrack. She knows exactly what she’s saying.” He sighed as Marinette and Rose stared at him. “You know I would never tell you who to be friends with, Jule,” he said, addressing himself to the screen, “But if you’re going to keep hanging around with her...well, just be careful. She’s the kind who knows how to hit where it hurts. If she decides you’re not on her side anymore, it won’t be pretty.”

“You...really think she’s that bad?” asked Rose, glancing sideways at Marinette and then back to Luka. 

“Probably not, as long as you’re on her good side.” Luka shrugged. “But she’s definitely not the kind of person I’d want to be friends with.” He spread his hands. “How do I look?”

“Gorgeous,” Marinette answered without thinking, and then blushed deeply as Luka grinned. “I mean, the suit looks perfect on you.”

“You’re spoiling me for regular clothes, you know that, right? Do I need to wear a tie?” He tried really hard not to whine that last bit, but it did come out sounding a little put-upon.

Marinette giggled. “No, I cut the collar to look good without one. We just need to do this--” Marinette unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and fidgeted with the collar for a moment. “There. Okay, stand back, look relaxed, put your hands in your pockets.” 

Luka did as she asked, and chuckled as she gave a little squeal-hop-wiggle. “It looks so good!”

“Of course it does,” he said warmly. “You do great work, Marinette. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise.” He looked up as Juleka emerged from behind her screen in a closely fitted dress that flared out from her knees, going to the floor in the back and the middle of her shins in the front, and grinned. “Awesome, Juleka.” 

“I took a chance with this one,” Marinette said critically, circling Juleka. “But I think it worked out. Girly, but edgy. Do you like it, Juleka?” 

“I love it.” Juleka said it in a mumble, but there was a smile on her face as she rotated in front of the mirror. “Awesome.” The snake motif flowed down the lines of her body from her shoulder to the hem. 

“Man, when did you grow up?” Luka asked admiringly, even though he knew she would hit him for it. She did, turning and punching him lightly in the arm.

“We’re only two years apart, weirdo.”

He reached out to ruffle her hair, but stopped himself just in time. The girls had tucked it up into some kind of complicated knot that they probably would have killed him for destroying.

“Let’s go,” Juleka huffed, turning away, but Luka could see she was pleased. 

They made it down the stairs and to the park without incident. Marinette had been right, he realized, the park was filled with soft golden light. Marinette frowned. “Where’s--oh.”

Alya came jogging over from the other shoot, waving. “Hey all, you look great! Let’s do this!”

Marinette showed them another packet of poses and this time it didn’t take nearly as long for them to get relaxed into it. Marinette pulled Luka after they had a few good shots of him and let Juleka take center stage for the rest of the shoot. 

“Look at her,” Luka said softly to Marinette. Thanks so much for doing this, Marinette. I can tell it’s really helping her confidence.”

Marinette squeezed his arm gently. “You’re such a softy of a big brother.” 

Then it was sunset and they all went back to Marinette’s, the models changed back into their regular clothes, and everyone crammed around Marinette’s computer. “Now keep in mind none of these are edited,” Alya warned. “This is just a first look.”

“Tell me if there’s any you really hate and I won’t use them,” Marinette said as Alya loaded the images.

Pride swelled in Luka’s chest as they clicked through the pictures. Juleka was a bit stiff in the first few, but as she got more relaxed the pictures got better and better. The girls squealed and gushed, and he stood with a slow smile spreading over his face. Luka put his hand on Juleka’s shoulder and squeezed. “You look great, Jule,” he said quietly, when there was a pause in Rose’s excited gushing. “I told you you were made for this.” She didn’t say anything, but looking down, he could see the smile curling her lips. “This is...kind of a lot of pictures,” he remarked as the slideshow seemed to go on and on. 

“Thank God for digital,” Alya said brightly, and then Luka couldn’t answer because he was staring at the picture of himself holding Marinette’s hand against his chest, looking down at her with an expression that could best be described as “quietly enamored” as she looked back up at him, the picture of sweetness and innocence. Objectively, it was a good picture, showing off the cut and details of his suit as well as the detailed embroidery on the back of the jacket. They also absolutely looked like a couple. In fact he’d seen engagement photos that looked just like this. He felt Juleka’s elbow dig into his ribs and his face heated at her quiet snicker. 

Luka folded his arms and covered his mouth with one hand as Alya went through the rest of the pictures. Marinette standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek almost killed him. It was obvious that he was trying not to grin and Marinette had a pretty blush on her face. He hadn’t even noticed at the time that she had lifted one foot off the ground but it made the whole pose even cuter. 

He dared a glance at Marinette and found her peeking through her fingers at him. He bit his lip and tried not to laugh, she looked so cute, sparkling with both amusement and mortification. Both of them shook with repressed laughter as Rose squealed delightedly at each new picture.

“So we can do some editing tomorrow,” Alya said, closing the window. “There should be plenty to work with. I think that turned out pretty well. I gotta jet like now, guys, so I’ll see you tomorrow!” She packed up her things and was gone as the other girls waved.

“I think some of those will be really fantastic for your portfolio, Juleka,” Marinette added. “Thank you so much for coming today.” 

Juleka turned and hugged Marinette, mumbling something in her ear that clearly wasn’t meant for anyone else to catch. Whatever it was made Marinette tear up and squeeze Juleka even harder. Then, to his mild surprise, Juleka turned away from Marinette and hugged him too. “You’re stupid and I hate you,” she muttered into his shoulder. “Thanks for being there with me today.”

“You’re a pest and you exhaust me,” he told her, kissing her forehead. “I wouldn’t have been anywhere else.”

“Can I pleeeeeeeease hug now?” Rose begged, and then jumped on both of them before anyone could answer her. Luka laughed and expanded his embrace to include her. 

“All right, all right, you guys go,” he squeezed them both one more time. “I know you’re dying to gush, so don’t wait for me.”

They didn’t, and he chuckled as they clattered down the stairs, Rose’s squeals audible until they left the house entirely. “Juleka’s going to have hearing damage before Rose is done with her,” Luka observed. 

Marinette sat down in her desk chair with a heavy sigh. “That was fun, but I’m tired.”

“I could hear it, today,” Luka said, sitting down on the chaise and picking up his guitar. Marinette looked up at him. 

“Hear what?”

“M.” 

She brightened and came to sit next to him. “Really?”

“Really. I told you earlier, you were amazing today.” He brushed her bangs back from her forehead and tilted her chin up so he could see her eyes clearly. “I was right. It’s beautiful. I can’t wait to hear more of it. But Juleka said something to me a few days ago and I think she was right too.” Marinette blinked at him and he let his hand fall, still smiling back at her as he continued. “You can get by on your own—“ He played G for her as he’d done before. “But it’s not what makes you happy. M sounds better as a chord.” He played a G major chord. “Now that you’re in tune, maybe the next step is figuring out which other notes need to be in it, and which ones just don’t mesh.”

Marinette sighed. “How can I do that if they’re all out of tune too?” She wrinkled her nose. “This metaphor might be too complicated for me.”

“You're doing fine,” he chuckled, squeezing her shoulder. “You know you can’t control anyone else, Marinette. People will be who they are.”

“But it’s not who they are,” Marinette pouted. “It’s who she wants them to be. That, what you saw out there earlier today, that wasn’t Alya. That wasn’t Adrien.”

Luka hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I can’t really speak to that, I don’t know Alya enough. But, you know, I don’t think people really change that much that fast. Maybe it’s just that, Alya is her best self when she’s with you, and her worst self when she’s around Lila. Selfish people have that effect sometimes. Selfishness feeds selfishness. And as for Adrien...” Luka shook his head, strumming a tune thoughtfully. “I don’t know, there’s something weird going on there. He seemed like he was trying to rein Lila in, but for some reason he was afraid to be too open about it.” He shook his head again. “Really weird. But...try to give him the benefit of the doubt. I think there’s something going on there that we’re not seeing.”

Marinette nodded slowly, and then smiled up at him. “Thanks Luka.” 

“Always, Marinette.”

“So...are you part of my chord, then?”

He smiled down at the strings moving under his hands. “I’d like to be,” he said softly, and then quickly added, “Remember how you felt today. How it feels to be the real you. It’ll help you stay in tune from here.”

“Thanks for doing this, Luka,” Marinette said, as he stopped playing and reluctantly put the guitar back in its case. “It was great you were there for a bunch of reasons, but--I also think it wouldn’t have been as much fun without you. It was great having your support the last few weeks. I really needed it.”

“You know you don’t need any excuse for that, Marinette.” Luka stood up and lifted the strap over his head, settling the case on his back. “Really. I’ve loved spending time with you and I hope we can still hang out.”

“Me too,” she said, cheeks dusting with pink, standing up with him. “Um, and…” She turned away and pulled down the denim jacket she’d hung up to dry. “Alya kind of spoiled the surprise,” Marinette sighed, “And it’s still pretty damp, but, um,” she held out it out to him. “This is for you.”

“For...me?” Luka just stared at her for a moment. “Marinette, I can’t, that must have been so much work. It looked so good on you, you should keep it.” Luka folded his hands over hers and pushed the jacket gently back towards her. 

Marinette pouted. “Luka, I made it for you. I just, I was thinking about you and the idea came to me and I couldn’t not make it for you. You have to take it, I even made it with extra room so you can still wear your hoodie under it. It goes with your guitar. It’ll never suit anybody else as well as it would you.”

“But—” He knew even as he protested that it was futile. He was an artist, too, and he knew exactly what she meant when she said she couldn’t not make it. Sometimes a melody was too perfect and you just couldn’t help but use it. Luka knew he had to take it even before she spoke again.

“Please? I wanted to. I’ll be crushed if you don’t keep it,” Marinette told him, and that was it. Luka sighed and took the jacket from her hands. 

“I love it,” he told her, running his fingers along the embroidery. “I really do. It’s perfect. I...” He shook his head, at a loss for words.

Marinette stepped into him and hugged him, and he wrapped one arm tight around her. “Thanks for everything, Luka.”

“I didn’t do much. Certainly not compared to this, and painting my guitar, and taking me to the awards gala, and letting me wear the suit you made.”

“Yeah, you did,” Marinette muttered into his shoulder. “You just don’t know it. You don’t know what it’s meant for me, these past few weeks. Maybe I would have made it through without you, but probably not nearly as well." 

“Marinette…”

“I’m glad you’re part of my chord, Luka.”

Luka knew it was a bad idea even as his hand curled behind her neck, tilting her face up, and he called himself six kinds of idiot in his head as he kissed her. But when her mouth came alive under his and they moved softly together, it didn’t feel like a bad idea at all. It felt like heaven, like the cure for homesickness, like the bridge of a love song. 

Love. She loved someone else. He pulled away, already missing her, hating how much he loved the delicate little noise their lips made when they parted. “Thank you,” he said into the space between them, taking a shaky breath. He cleared his throat as he straightened, dropping his hand. “And...sorry. That one was on me. I know I said we shouldn’t, but...I don’t know how else to tell you how much this means to me, Marinette. I’ll treasure it, really.”

“As long as you wear it,” Marinette said a little breathlessly, smiling softly. “Don’t treasure it in the back of the closet.”

“I don’t know how I’ll be able to wear anything else,” Luka said honestly. 

Marinette licked her lips nervously, eyes flicking away and back to his, hands tightening on his almost painfully. “Luka, I—“ 

“I should go,” he muttered, prying his hands away, not wanting to hear another apology. He saw her concerned face and smiled. “It’s—“ He didn’t want to lie to her. “I’ll be okay. I’m just a little overwhelmed and I really need to go now, okay?” 

He turned and walked blindly until he was out of sight, and then slumped against a tree and closed his eyes, irrationally angry. How many times could two people kiss before they admitted they were more than friends? He wanted to kiss her and she wanted to kiss him and why, why couldn’t it just be that simple?

Because attraction isn’t love, Luka reminded himself, and just because his reactions were driven by his emotions didn’t mean it was the same for her. She didn’t have to be in love with him to be attracted to him, to enjoy kissing him, and if he was hurting right now it was his own fault for kissing her when he knew better. He wanted something so much deeper than that with her. She has every right to want someone else. She trusted me when I said I can handle it.

We’ll both be crushed if it turns out I can’t.

He shook his head and started for home, determined to find some kind of balance within himself. Luka saw a lot of meditation in his future.

#quickspins #finding harmony #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #ml fics #backlog

[humanwheatleyslefttoenail]

Now I Am An Arsonist [Chapter 2: Science Will Continue]

Now I Am an Arsonist - When the power goes out at Aperture Science, GLaDOS is unwittingly uploaded into the body of a human test subject in order to preserve her intelligence. Forced to once again seek out the help of Wheatley and Chell, GLaDOS desperately tries to control her emotions before they consume her thoughts a second time. 

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Chapter 2: Science Will Continue

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She’d awoken slowly, feeling the hard coils of a mattress underneath Her back and a stiff blue jumpsuit enshrouding Her arms and legs. Long fall boots clung tightly to Her feet, uncomfortably squeezed into the rigid white plastic.

Gradually, She sat up on the neatly-made bed, a rough linen blanket still covering Her lower half. The chamber had been deliberately made to look like a hotel room, complete with a TV in the corner and a nightstand on the side. Still, something wasn’t right.

It was like living in a distant memory, a dream She’d had but not quite remembered.

A part of Her felt like this was normal, as if She’d woken up here every morning, but another urged Her to look for answers.

GLaDOS searched Her memory, not fully processing the world around Her, puzzled as to why Her computerized thoughts had been slowed tenfold.

Looking down, She saw two pale human arms and two pale human hands. Feeling the top of Her head, She found a mess of dark brown hair which came down to Her shoulders.

           No, this surely wasn’t right.

           Only hours ago, only hours ago, She’d been in control of all of Aperture Science. She’d been invincible, the immortal, all-powerful GLaDOS and now…

           Now, She was this.

           What the hell is going on here?

           There was seldom more awful than to be a human being, to life a short, painful life defined by the burden of emotions. Even on Her worst days, even as a potato, the most She could muster for human beings was a vague sense of pity.

           Yet, here She was, more human than She had been in centuries.

           Oh, you have got to be kidding me.  

           Being Caroline, however brief, was not something She’d ever wished to return to. Emotions didn’t merely burden Her logic; they were completely incapacitating. There was something to be said for the victory of a test well done, of throwing Wheatley into space where the little moron belonged, of the relief when Chell woke up. But something like guilt? Something like fear? Real, genuine fear?

           That hurt more than Her head being torn off. It hurt more than being burned alive.

           As a machine, She could destroy those feelings, suppress them until they were nothing at all. As a human, that task wasn’t so easy.

           Sparks of happiness, moments of joy; none of them were worth the ordeal.

           The heaviness of dread welling in Her processors as She waited for Chell to wake up was not something She wanted to reexperience. Was there even a name for that awful feeling? Whatever warm elation followed when everything was alright… GLaDOS would burn it at the stake before She ever felt that anguish again.

           Ironically, the anticipation of fear made GLaDOS’ chest pound, rapidly breathing in and out as She reflexively clung to the blanket. The last thing She needed was more complicated thoughts about Chell, more bittersweet memories of Cave, more useless sentiments to wring Her bitter heart dry.

           In a very human moment of pure shock, GLaDOS screamed. It was an ugly cry of anger and surprise swirled together, resounding throughout the vault. The echoes crashed off of the walls, and the once-powerful GLaDOS cowered with Her head in Her hands.

           The potato was bad enough. The potato brought Her closer to Her own humanity than She’d ever wanted to acknowledge, but barely minutes in GLaDOS could tell that this would be infinitely worse. GLaDOS felt Herself shaking, barely even processing the fact that this hideous amalgamate of skin and bones was now Her body. Now She had hair, She had hands, She had fingers and She had lungs and She had a heartbeat.

           She had a heartbeat. A thudding reminder of Her newfound vulnerability. A symbol of Her weakness.

           GLaDOS did not particularly care to be weak.

           Finally, She understood the meaning of organic in Organic Transplant Procedure. Could they have possibly made it any vaguer?

           Whatever this was, whatever had happened, She had to figure it out. The potato battery, being fed to birds, and dying twice was apparently not enough to satisfy whatever gods lurked in Android Hell. She would spite them once again, return to Her body, and everything would be alright. It had been alright before, so why wouldn’t it be now? At least, this time, She didn’t have Chell and Wheatley working against Her. All She had was Herself and the facility.

           GLaDOS took a deep breath, a sensation She had not felt for hundreds of years. The motion didn’t entirely calm Her nerves, but Her only option was to move forward. Staying here would do nothing to help. The faster She figured something out, the faster She could leave this awful body.

GLaDOS leaned one arm against the peeling wallpaper, trying to balance on Her boots. The heels on the shoes were suspended above the floor, supported by a spring. Shifting Her weight while wearing them, however, was an acquired skill. Gently lifting Her hand from the wall, arms out at Her side, She was stable.

Briefly.

Without warning, the boots gave way, and GLaDOS toppled onto the dusty carpet.

A dull pain filled Her legs, quickly fading as She clung to the wall and rose again slowly. If She wanted to go anywhere, She would have to try again.

           She walked along the side of the wall and felt the way the heels bounced beneath Her, made specifically to take the impact of any fall. Cautiously, GLaDOS let go of the side of the room, miraculously still. She took a careful step forward, preparing for impact, only to see that She was steadier than expected. Still, each step was uneasy, tense and on the cusp of collapsing.

           Walking around the perimeter of the bed, She peered at the little wooden nightstand. One of the drawers had already been pulled out, but the other remained tightly shut. Crouching down, GLaDOS wrenched the second drawer open, finding a small mirror clouded with age. Holding it close to Her face, She examined Her repulsive new features.

           GLaDOS wondered if there was any particular reason why this body looked so similar to Caroline. Most likely, it was an odd coincidence, but She wouldn’t put it past Aperture to find someone who specifically looked like She once had. She appeared to be in Her late thirties, already sporting gray hairs and frown lines. Her eyes, weighed down by bags, were a dull metal gray.

           Robots, unlike humans, were built specifically to look beautiful. GLaDOS used to be a technological Aphrodite, gears moving in harmony, painted finish gleaming under the lights of the enrichment center. She was stunning in the way She alone could be, completely alien and yet striking to the eye.

           Humans, on the other hand, were made only to survive. Nature didn’t particularly mind if its final product was an unsightly, hairless primate so long as it could handle the simple job of finding food. Some humans considered certain members of their own species more attractive than others, but GLaDOS found them all equally ugly. Humans, with all their variation, looked essentially the same when you’d seen enough of them.

           GLaDOS’ real body was a physical manifestation of Her power; She didn’t care that it was pleasing to the eye so long as it conveyed a sense of authority. This new human body, with its small size, its blemishes and imperfections, conveyed the exact opposite. Other humans may have even described Her appearance with words like pretty, soft or even kindly.

           The idea of being seen as anything but imposing was a nightmare.

For Her own sake, GLaDOS didn’t ruminate over Her first impressions any longer.

           Part of the zipper on Her blue jumpsuit was undone, revealing an implant attached to Her right collarbone. It appeared to be a small, bright yellow core, the source of Her being, woven into Her skin by a cluster of wires.

GLaDOS rezipped it, the yellow light still glowing brightly through the fabric.

           Whichever body She was inhabiting was certainly one of a test subject’s, preserved in cryosleep for hundreds of years. GLaDOS could tell from the old uniform that this woman was one of the first batch of specimens, from all the way back when She was originally brought online. The woman had been brain-dead years before GLaDOS ever inhabited Her body. GLaDOS was now some sort of mechanical zombie, Her programming superimposed on this host. Even She had to find that a little unsettling.

That was typical of Aperture. Somehow, with every possible option available to them, they always managed to find the least ethical. It was a feat at this point.

GLaDOS placed the mirror back in the drawer and shut it closed, screening the room for an exit. In the front of the room was a wooden door with a rusty brass knob, waiting to be turned ajar. Without hesitation, She followed the path and twisted the handle, the door creaking open without any resistance.

As She entered the hall, GLaDOS was taken aback by the sheer number of chambers, suspended from above and hanging inches away from a more stable platform. Closing the door behind Her and jumping onto the catwalk, She couldn’t help but notice the sense of abandonment that filled the room. It had been centuries since the old Relaxation Center had been brought up to code, and previously there hadn’t been much reason to improve it.

Now GLaDOS wished She’d put in the effort.

The metal catwalk led directly onto a tiled floor in an old waiting room. Ladderback chairs sat around a central column in the middle, surrounded by coffee tables, a water dispenser and miscellaneous paintings. A flickering Aperture Science logo still shined in the dim gray room, gleaming a ghostly white. Near the back, a faded poster called for test subject applications, apparently endorsed by Cave Johnson himself.

Everywhere She looked, remnants of a dead man’s company made parodies of themselves, untouched for years.

Behind a front desk was a hallway filled with shadows, leading behind the room. With nowhere else to go, GLaDOS stepped into the dark, the light of Her core guiding Her through.

There wasn’t much to see, and for a while, the corridor ran along a single route.

GLaDOS had to come up with a plan.

Somewhere around here there had to be a control room, or at least a place where She could catch a lift back to the Enrichment Center. The thought crossed Her mind that She might have to pass through a testing track, one of Her own meticulously designed traps. It didn’t matter. She’d deal with it when She got to it. Still, the fear that She’d have to fight Her own monsters remained in the back of Her head.

The hallway was only becoming darker, and the little light on Her shoulder was slowly becoming less effective. As far as She could tell, there were no switches along the way. Any lighting was likely controlled by a power station a mile from here.

Something metallic banged against Her foot, and upon examination, GLaDOS discovered it was an empty can of beans. In front of Her, at least three more were lined up in a row. She sighed.

Of course Doug had been here. That man was as ingenious as he was stealthy, and had found his way through every nook and cranny at Aperture. Not even Chell had been able to access some of the places he had.

GLaDOS took it as a good sign. Wherever the path led, it meant someone had been able to survive it.

           Surviving had never exactly been a consideration before. Even when Chell murdered Her the first time, She had a feeling there was some kind of safeguard. Humans didn’t have a black box; when they were gone, they were gone. Nothing could bring back a dead human.

           As a potato, GLaDOS had been forced to confront the idea that if Wheatley blew up the facility, that would really be the end. There had been a part of Her almost content that if it was, Chell would be by Her side. Whether it was a vengeful wish, or a side effect of companionship was still unknown.

           Back then, though, She hadn’t really been in control. She’d relied on simple hope that Chell could stop Wheatley before it all went down, not contributing much besides the occasional bit of advice. Now GLaDOS was responsible for Her own fate, fully mobile and fully alone.

           Maybe that was even scarier than standing still.

           After all, She could rely on Chell. Relying on this new human body was another story altogether.  

           The question now was whether any light could be found in this hallway. GLaDOS uncomfortably dropped to her knees, feeling for anything besides the three cans. She grasped at something plastic with a switch on the side. A flashlight.

           Turning it on, the hallway became completely visible. Immediately, GLaDOS was surprised by the sheer number of paintings that covered the white walls.

           Portraits of Chell were splattered from floor to ceiling. Everywhere GLaDOS looked, a woman in an orange jumpsuit stared back at Her, shooting portals and knocking over turrets. Swirls of paint danced from one scene to another, blending each picture into the next. Words were haphazardly scrawled across, some of them poetic and others screaming pure nonsense. Whatever meaning they’d had was lost with Doug.

           A common theme was the companion cube, and one particularly disturbing image replaced their iconic hearts with bleeding human eyes. There was a stark contrast between the idyllic, peaceful depictions of Chell sleeping and the scribbles of scientists running for their lives. GLaDOS could barely make out some of the more manic drawings, but those turned out to be the most horrifying. Tightly clustered loops signified a cloud of neurotoxin. Blotches of red were human remains.

           GLaDOS stood back up, meandering further down the hall. The paintings only devolved from here, intricate detail morphing into crazed warnings.

           Don’t trust Her lies.

           The path went on for about another fifteen minutes, twisting and turning at sharp angles. Metal doors led to cluttered offices, all of them sealed and locked. In some of them, the computers were still on, endlessly flickering in the darkness.

           When GLaDOS finally reached the end of the corridor, She was greeted with the sudden activation of a bright white light. Reflexively, She shielded Her eyes as the voice of the announcer blared.

           “Welcome, Aperture Science Testing Associate! You’re here because you’ve voluntarily, or involuntarily, chosen to sign over all your legal rights to Aperture Science and further humanity’s progress!”

           Of course. Being turned into a fleshy mess of tissues wasn’t enough. She’d have to go through the testing track, too.

           She bit her lip in silent rage, no longer blinded by the light, gazing upon an airtight room with little more than a circular door. All around Her was white, covered in portal surfaces. Beneath Her, GLaDOS could feel the electronics of the panels whir, making the whole room seem alive. It could move at any moment.

           “Before we begin, the Enrichment Center would like to remind you that you may suffer terrible injuries caused by our testing devices designed to create terrible injuries. If you have suffered a terrible injury, please review our community-shared legal manual, which states that Aperture Science takes no responsibility for terrible injuries caused by Aperture Science.”

           GLaDOS knew that redundant message. It was backup, for when She wasn’t there to narrate. Testing tracks had levels of difficulty, and before Her takeover, it was fairly common for subjects to be screened and assigned one based on what they could handle. This message only played for the most difficult, and consequently, the deadliest. Not even GLaDOS was entirely sure what was in here; She hadn’t used it for fear of subjects dying before any real data could be collected.

           “As part of [HIGH DIFFICULTY] testing protocol, Aperture Science has temporarily issued you your very own Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device.”

           Without warning, a panel on the ceiling lifted, a robotic claw descending and dropping the device directly in front of GLaDOS. The claw lifted, and the panel closed again.

           “The device has been successfully deployed. To ensure the validity of our tests, please verify that your device is completely operational.”

           GLaDOS was familiar with the portal gun from Her databases, and She knew exactly how to work it. Despite this, She’d never actually handled one Herself, unless being impaled on the end of one counted. The device was heavy in Her hands, cold and sleek against Her fingers. The center, black plastic encasing a glowing yellow coil, was warm to the touch.

           Pointing at one of the white panels, She cocked the trigger, and a golden portal blossomed in front of Her. Running Her fingers across the surface, it felt like waving a hand through a ray of sunlight. GLaDOS turned around, shooting the next portal at the opposite wall. The portal which followed was a lighter yellow, less vivid than the first.

           “Good. A signal from the device has proven activation. Please enter the elevator.”

           The metal door opened, and just beyond the emancipation grill, an elevator stood wait. It was the only path left to take.

---

           Putting a cube on a button should’ve been simple task for a supercomputer. Even for a human, the menial work was a cognitive breeze. The large button in particular required minimal force to operate, and the weighted storage cubes were lighter than they appeared. In any scenario, placing an object on another was easily mastered with only the most basic of motor skills. It could have qualified as the least difficult task known to mankind. All GLaDOS had to do was put one cube on one button.

           That was all there was. One cube, one button, and several killing machines stuffed with thousands of bullets. It was for this reason that GLaDOS could not perform this extraordinarily simple job. The turrets blocking the way would surely be a hurdle.

           Already, GLaDOS could feel the beginnings of human fear creeping into Her mind. She was out of the turrets’ line of sight, and yet the caution of Her new form compelled Her to stay hidden in the corner regardless. Nervously clutching the trigger of Her portal gun, She considered the dangers lurking in future tests. This one was only the first, and it had already deployed one of the worst weapons Aperture had to offer.

           Logically, GLaDOS knew She could step out. She could put one portal behind Her, another at the opposite wall, and avoid the turrets altogether. Behind them would certainly be the cube and the button. Still, emotion was quite a world apart from logic. As a computer, She could be revived over and over again. Humans could not be fixed, and GLaDOS understood that in the very unlikely possibility She died here, She was never coming back.

           GLaDOS didn’t want to admit that She was afraid, not even to Herself. She was sure Chell could tell back when Wheatley was in control; She’d let Her voice slip more than once. Now, with nobody around, She only had Herself to prove it to.

           Removing Her cores all that time ago had also been the removal of Her regulators; She felt everything once they were detached, things She would have to relearn how to suppress. All She remembered before the world went dark, before Chell killed her, what She’d relived, was fear. Panic. Terror. There were a million words for it, none encapsulating just how soul-wrenching the phenomenon was.

           Even then, that’s all it was for Her. Just an emotion. For human beings, fear was a sixth sense. It could be felt in a spiraling heartbeat, in beads of sweat, in shallow breaths and temporary, last-ditch strength. Fear was a state of being, and for the particularly unfortunate, a way of life.

           GLaDOS knew fear only when She had to, only when She could not relocate it to the very bottom of Her files. Humans knew fear like they knew living. Every day, if only for mere moments, it was almost guaranteed that a human would feel fear.

           What a miserable way to live.

           It was all the more reason to complete these chambers faster.

           When She reached the other side of the room, GLaDOS found exactly what She expected. The cube glowed a bright yellow when placed on the Aperture Science Super-Colliding Super Button, and the chamber lock opened.

           As the elevator descended, GLaDOS realized that She had no idea how to solve these tests. She was smart, and the solution would certainly come to Her eventually, but the human mind could only store so much. GLaDOS used to have entire libraries of nothing but solutions to tests, but the upload procedure hadn’t deemed that useful or necessary. When trying to remember, there was nothing. For the first time, GLaDOS’ mind was blank.

           The next test dashed all Her hopes for a few more tutorial puzzles.

           No, GLaDOS reassured Herself. This is alright. I’m used to being challenged.

           After Chell, She was sure any other problem would be easier to solve.

           This particular test was supposed to introduce lasers. The first step was to burn the turrets with the beam, done with the help of portals and crouching behind a corner. The explosions were louder than She’d expected; GLaDOS had seldom heard them outside of watching from a camera. Her ears rung as She crept past the charred remains of the turrets, seeing almost nothing left of the slender white robots. The burn marks brought a smile to Her face; She’d killed them. Even now, She had power over something.

           The turrets were programmed to have some level of sentience, though their sense of self was not nearly as defined as that of a core’s or a human’s. It didn’t matter anyway; they wouldn’t be missed. For every one that was destroyed or made wrong, ten more were created in its place, and the missing turret was simply forgotten. Nobody really made an effort to remember in the first place.

           Humans, too, were often unremembered. She used to be able to look at their files at any time, but why would She want to? She’d seen so many, none particularly worthy of note, and most of them were gone. Even so, in a part of Her that She wanted to deny, GLaDOS almost felt sorry for them. She too had been forgotten for years; nobody had even wanted to wake Her up, to check and see if She was alright. All the robots in the facility knew was that the voice controlling them was gone, and that She wasn’t coming back. Logically, GLaDOS knew She couldn’t blame them. She had also been forced to have someone else’s voice in Her head, and didn’t exactly find it pleasant.

           The rest of the puzzle was much more challenging than swinging around a laser, involving the use of a redirection cube and multiple steps to obtain it. Another round of turrets was waiting where GLaDOS couldn’t see, launching a bullet directly between Her ribs. Luckily for GLaDOS, the force of each bullet was minimal, and the single hit left only a painful bruise. These turrets were stuffed to the brim with ammunition, part of Cave Johnson’s idea to really give his customers their money’s worth. The unintended side effect was the reduction of firing power.

           Trudging to the elevator, GLaDOS clutched Her side. She’d been knocked out of breath, and the sharp throb of the bruise had faded into a dull ache. It was almost worse that way, grating on Her nerves, flaring up when She took a breath.

           Chell had taken a couple bullets before, some grazing the sides of Her shoulders and most leaving similar small wounds. GLaDOS had to give her credit for continuing to test, holding her head high even when she was bleeding. That didn’t even count sores in her lungs from the neurotoxin, or the damage from falling down the pit. The fact that Chell stayed alive, then went on to test for days, proved her exceptional stamina.

           This one bruise to the rib was occupying nearly all of GLaDOS’ thoughts. She couldn’t fathom the kinds of things Chell felt. The only comparisons She had were the removal of Her head and dying, both of which didn’t last longer than a few minutes. Her pain as a computer had been simulated, but this was real and arguably worse. Chell had likely felt this same sensation a hundred times over, and a hundred times longer.

           You did that to her, you know. A voice clawed from deep within Her mind.

           You gave her all that pain.

           Testing was bad enough, GLaDOS didn’t need the additional burden of guilt. She ignored the voice, though remorseful discomfort still welled in Her chest. Her conscience, the one with Her own voice, was coming back. GLaDOS couldn’t say She missed it.

---

The following tests had proved themselves to be little more than a series of colorful injuries.

Despite Her caution, misfires on behalf of the turrets were inevitable. A stray bullet had bruised Her shin, while another flew past and grazed the side of Her left shoulder. Other little nicks were speckled across Her skin, the products of miscellaneous falls.

Hitting the sides of walls, and even landing with the boots, left GLaDOS’ arms and legs sore. Every step She took was a laborious trudge from panel to panel, and eventually Her fatigue took control.

GLaDOS scanned the level sign on Her right upon entering the test. 15. It hadn’t felt like 15 tests; it’d felt like hundreds had gone by. GLaDOS wasn’t even entirely sure how long it’d been. The adrenal vapor in the air muddled Her perception, and an hour and a minute seemed to be the same.

An educated guess was about four hours, accounting for the rests She’d taken in between. The hard physical activity had already worn down this middle-aged body, and whoever it belonged to before hadn’t been particularly fit or athletic. The woman was lean, more bony than muscular, and even slight exertion took all the effort She could give. The factor of age didn’t help.

GLaDOS sat down in front of the glowing screen, giving Herself a minute to catch Her breath.

There was a possibility that these tests would go on for thousands of chambers, enough to last years. Equally likely, at the end of the next there might be a scorching pit of flames. That one without any portal surfaces to escape from.

She leaned Her head on the wall, closing Her eyes and letting Her mind wander.

           The chamber was frigid, and the jumpsuit did little to shield GLaDOS from the cold. Arms crossed and knees at Her chest, the heat still escaped Her.

           The thought crossed Her mind that this was how Chell had felt. Was she always this cold, this tired, this desperate? GLaDOS made a mental note to Herself.

           Make the chambers warmer.

           The heat was only a surface-level fix. The claustrophobia induced by the walls, the artificial lights, and the expectation to give it your all or else was maddening.

           Why does it matter to you? GLaDOS asked Herself. Sure, it was bad for Her, but why care about the other subjects? Once She got through this, GLaDOS would never have to feel it again.

           She remembered the time She’d described Her worst imperfection to Atlas and P-Body. Too much sympathy for human suffering.

           Still, Chell would’ve been happier (whatever excuse for happiness that would be) in warmer chambers. Now that She’d gotten attached to one human, She’d felt for them all. It was why She was so hesitant to form a connection in the first place. That would interfere with Her experiments.

           Memories of sparing Chell’s doppelganger and saving the life of the man reentered Her mind, and She was embarrassed at the thought of letting Her study careen so far off the rails. Looking back, how much perfectly good science had been ruined? Chell wasn’t even here, and yet She was still wrecking the facility.

           Even then, GLaDOS couldn’t quite be mad. An ally, no matter how hated and murderous, had still been an ally. Not that She’d ever tell anyone.

           Missing Chell, no maybe not missing so much as becoming used to her presence, was the source of all this mayhem.  The thought of writing a whole new subroutine which deleted the feeling completely…it was a motivating fantasy. Sentimentality had been, and would be, the death of Her.

           If it was such a dangerous condition, though, then why had thoughts of Chell propelled her through these tribulations? There was something to be said for dwelling on these memories, emulating Chell’s boundless tenacity.

           Wisely, GLaDOS stopped Herself from wandering further.

           Don’t think about it. Control yourself.

           The act of caring about Chell verged on Caroline behavior. Most human traits, especially the most loathsome and empathetic, were also included in this category.

           If only to distract Herself, GLaDOS stood up tall and readied Herself for the fifteenth test. Walking deeper in, Her nose caught the scent of toxic goo, stinging as the fumes filled Her lungs.

           GLaDOS sighed.

           She could already tell that this would be a long one.

---

           Cheating was not as good of an idea as it originally seemed.

GLaDOS knew, No, you have to do the test, there’s no other way out. When subjects tried to escape, it never ended well for them. Despite past observation, the temptation remained as strong as ever. The walls beckoned Her, waiting to be climbed, an onlooking room in wait. These tests hadn’t been as thoroughly repaired as the others, and sunlight shone through holes in the ceiling. Wreckage from years of decay looked almost like a staircase, or perhaps more like a ladder. Everywhere around Her seemed like an easier path to freedom.

           The main issue was stability; the rusty metal plates couldn’t support Her weight, and trying to climb left Her tumbling down onto the hard floors. No wall ever seemed to have enough traction, and a sprain on Her arm quickly taught GLaDOS that Her ingenious plans were too risky to continue. Even the use of momentum could not propel Her high enough to reach the windows of the room overhead.

           Frustrated and defeated, She solved the test without further incident. Chamber 25 was waiting up ahead, and the sunlight from above was the golden hue of dusk. To Her own disbelief, all of this testing had amounted to only a single day.

           After the long, arduous completion of 25 had wracked both Her body and mind, GLaDOS found welcome relief. She almost couldn’t believe the fact that the chambers had ended so… safely. The door opened, and there was no death traps or fire waiting for Her. It only led into a waiting room with a faded Thank You sign on the wall. GLaDOS smiled, satisfied with Her victory. Shortcomings aside, the fact that this measly human body had managed to endure so much was something She was proud of.

           That had been Her work, Her survival, not just testing by proxy.

           The waiting room She stood in was eerily similar to the last, furnished with the same kind of chair and plastered with similar advertisements. Unlike the last one, two exits waited in front of Her. One was for test subjects, boarded up with wood nailed to the door, completely inaccessible. The other was a flight of stairs leading upward, blocked off with a chained sign reading Employees Only.

           GLaDOS lifted the chain over Her head and ascended the staircase, no other option available. Nervously, She hoped that anything but another testing track was up ahead, only to find exactly what She needed. Her luck had been improving; a control room was only a step away. A panel of countless switches was adhered to the pale blue walls, adjacent to a desk with pens, paper, and a noisy radio. The same jazzy tune played on loop until She switched it off, content with the silence.

           It’s finally over.

           She sat down at the beige office chair in front of the control panel, scanning it for the words lift or escape pod. Dials and switches cluttered the board, labeled with miniscule text that was near impossible to read. GLaDOS scorned Her human eyesight, searching desperately, but finding nothing. The buttons only controlled elements of the test chambers, which panels to open, which cubes to drop.

           She reread it, knowing that surely She’d missed something. Again and again, She screened the switchboard, yielding nothing.

           GLaDOS had to have overlooked a button, misread a label. Nothing was hidden behind the desk, and no other devices had been plugged into the socket on the wall. The realization that She could be trapped here, here of all places, sank low into Her chest. After everything, after all of the testing and the pain and the feelings, it had all amounted to this.

           “Oh my god. Oh my god. That’s not possible!”

           All the panic She’d suppressed was finally let loose, Her human mind no longer able to contain the fear She’d been anticipating.

           I might die here. That’s it. I might never get back in my mainframe, and I might spend my last hours stuck in this human being.

           I’m going to be alone.

           Alone.

           She lingered on that sentence, anxiously pacing around the desk, nervously clawing through Her hair.

           I am going to be very, very alone.

           GLaDOS had always wanted to spend Her entire, immortal life alone. No friends, no family to weigh Her down, to distract Her from purpose. Cave Johnson had put it best; Caroline was married to science, and that had carried over to GLaDOS.

           Machines didn’t need companionship, but depriving a human being of social contact was like denying them water. Whatever human need for friendship still existed in this woman’s body was bubbling up, broken by the sheer loneliness of the tests.

           She often wondered why subjects had such a difficult time euthanizing their faithful companion cube. Unless rare incidents of stabbing threats counted, the companion cube had not once spoken to them, never shown any kind of personality or attachment. They were sentient enough, like most Aperture products, but their only real difference from a storage cube was their little heart decal. A mere design change had been enough to exploit human compassion, and it was fascinating to behold.

           A part of Her now understood why it was so easy to believe that an inanimate object could be a friend. GLaDOS’ human component ached for any sort of company, any kind of reassurance. Even an enemy would be nice. An enemy would be better, maybe even preferred.

           Just someone to talk to, even if that conversation was just a tirade of insults on Her part.

           Maybe GLaDOS wasn’t alone. She took a shaky breath and projected Her voice.

           “You know, it’s awfully rude of you to keep me waiting here. I’ll report this to your supervisor, and then you’ll be fired. Maybe he’ll kill you. Maybe I’ll kill you.”

           Murder threats usually got anyone’s attention, but the sound only echoed off of the walls. If there was somebody here, somebody listening, they’d made the mistake of underestimating GLaDOS.

           “Alright, maybe you’re just refusing to talk to me because you look down on me. I’ve known someone like that. Do you know what happened to her?”

           The walls were silent.

           “Well, she got a lungful of deadly neurotoxin. And even if you’re not afraid of me murdering you, surely you wouldn’t want to go out that way, would you?”

           Still, nothing responded.

           “I can’t promise anything, but maybe I’ll let you live slightly longer than I would have five seconds ago. All you have to do is let me out. It’s the best offer I can make, since I can’t let you off the hook entirely for keeping me here. But still, those extra minutes are available.”

           GLaDOS gave up; nobody was here, and nobody was waiting for Her. The future looked lonely, and in desperation, She gave the control panel one last glance. A button that She’d seen before caught Her eye, one She hadn’t fully considered the first time.

           Core Sentience Connector.

           With nothing to lose, She pressed the button, and a whirring erupted from a panel downstairs. GLaDOS rushed back to the waiting room, portal gun in Her hands, and watched the walls open like magic. In its place was a metal contraption, holding the empty shell of a personality core with a flickering screen above it. The Aperture Logo flashed onto the newly implemented monitor, while the announcer blared from an invisible speaker.

           “Hello, and thank you for activating the Aperture Science Personality Core Sentience Connector Protocol! If you have selected this feature, congratulations. A subject under your supervision has been experiencing difficulties testing due to prolonged exposure to severe social deprivation.”

           GLaDOS wondered what other insane scenarios they’d thought of as the screen switched to a moving blueprint of a personality sphere.

           “All Aperture Science Personality Constructs are made with the intended purpose of solving this problem, providing companionship to those in crisis. Personality Constructs with an active distress signal can be summoned with the connector protocol. A list of available constructs is provided on the screen.”

           Walking closer to the device, GLaDOS saw only one serial number listed. Personality cores all had radio capability, and the signal of their very being could be transmitted in times of emergency. Once the signal was received, that could easily be implemented into any compatible device.

           GLaDOS hesitated before selecting the number. She doubted that the little moron had the capacity to activate a distress signal, and if he did, it was highly unlikely that the signal could bounce all the way back to Earth. Still, the possibility that this core could be Wheatley was something She did not want to risk. Although psychologically destroying him would be a good use of Her time, being in a position of power would make Her revenge all the more satisfying.

           The last thing She wanted was for him to see Her weak again, but the only other option was to remain trapped. At the very least, if they were stuck here forever, She could use the last of Her human strength to make Wheatley’s tiny, moronic life as miserable as possible. In the off chance he could open a panel, She’d use him to escape and leave him behind. Preferably, in the incinerator.

           Survival was worth the temporary burden of dealing with Wheatley, especially if it meant another thousand years doing nothing but testing. GLaDOS tapped the number, an electric chime sounding from the machine as the connector activated. Within thirty seconds, the core’s eye opened, gleaming a bright blue.

---

           “If you were, let’s say, a brain damaged woman who was betrayed by her only ally, what would it take for you to forgive the bloke who tried to murder her? It’s just theoretical, just, you know, coming up with hypotheticals to pass the time.”

           “Space. Space is nice. Rocket ship. Rocket ship goes to space. Space goes to space. Space is in space.”

           “Alright mate, thanks for the input. Very useful.”

           Wheatley sighed, his optic focused on the same group of stars he’d watched for the past couple of hours, his mind wrapped up in the past.

           Four months had been a good amount of time to relive his mistakes over and over, micro analyzing every transgression against Chell. His life was now a series of unpleasant memories, or pleasant ones turned painful by context, interrupted with by chatter of the space core and the light of the sun.

           Fantasies, in which he apologized for his mistakes and Chell forgave him, were far too frequent. He’d say sorry, deliver a whole monologue four months in the making, and She’d pick him up and smile at him. They would be friends again, and Wheatley would never return to Aperture. GLaDOS would be gone, out of sight forever, and they could be happy. He could be happy.

           Not that Wheatley particularly thought he deserved it. By most human standards of morality, trying to kill someone was considered an irredeemable offense. Empathizing with Chell’s fear, Chell’s heartbreak had been impossible with the mainframe distorting his thoughts. All of the sympathy he could not feel then was coming back now, transformed into guilt.

           If you hadn’t acted like a monster, if you hadn’t been so awful, if you hadn’t been…

           He knew that realistically, Chell would never pardon him. Even that was given the unlikely event they’d met again.

           Wheatley wondered if he would ever get a second chance, ever get the opportunity to show that no, he wasn’t a moron and all that villainy had been a just a fluke. Just several, awful mistakes that he could show weren’t all he was. He only needed a chance, just one.

           Hell, if GLaDOS got an opportunity for redemption, why couldn’t he?

           Wheatley closed his optic, feeling the cold of space against his metal casing.

           One chance. That’s all I need.

           For a moment, there was only the silence of the cosmos.

           Without warning, his processors hummed with a fever pitch, and his thoughts raced until they melted into nonsense. A loud beeping resonated from inside, and through the chaos, Wheatley could discern a single error message.

           Sentience Connector Protocol Initiated. Prepare for the brief suspension of your consciousness.

           What in the bloody hell-

           Wheatley screamed in surprise, his cry cut off halfway through.

           The space core hardly noticed that his companion had been zapped away, content with watching the surface of the moon below. The stars shone bright as ever.

---

           “Oh, oh my god, I’m alive! I…” Wheatley’s voice trailed off as he awakened to the dim walls of Aperture, facing a middle-aged, brown-haired woman. A yellow light glowed through Her jumpsuit, and a suspicious grin was spread across Her face. Wheatley had never seen this person before, but the moment She spoke, the voice immediately struck fear in his servos.

           “Well there you are, moron.”

           He didn’t even have to think to recognize that sarcastic tone.

           She was back.

---

A/N: Hey guys! Thanks again for reading, I know the wait for chapter 2 was pretty long, but here it is!  

#Now i am an arsonist #portal #portal 2 #glados #chell #wheatley #chelldos #fic #Fanfiction

[sluggybasson107]

Digimon Adventure 02 Appreciation Challenge Day 9 - Which Family Dynamic In 02 Do You Find The Most Interesting?

I can’t choose! It’s the same as asking which Chosen Child is my favorite!

Apparently, my brain thought that Day 6 wasn’t torturous enough, so I decided to talk about every single family dynamic/relationship within the Digimon Adventure series! (No Kizuna-Related content is in this post)

Let’s go!

First is the Yagami’s (Or Kamiya’s)!

Out of the Digimon Adventure series, this has to be one of the families that the parents don’t have much conflict/drama

But the siblings do.

Hikari and Taichi always see their self-worth through each other. If Taichi wasn’t taking care of Hikari properly, he was doing wrong. If Hikari wasn't like Taichi, she wasn’t trying her best.

I’ve always thought that Taichi always tried to hide his worry for Hikari, kind of like the opposite of Yamato in a way.

“You’re soft. Or maybe I should say, you’ve gotten soft. In the past, you would have made snap decisions. But the reason you can’t…” Yamato looked at Hikari. “Has gotta be because your sister’s here.”

“Wh–What are you talking about…” Taichi was at a loss for words.

He hadn’t gotten timid because Hikari was with them. But it was true that he had gotten more careful so that no one got hurt or pushed themselves.

He couldn’t call that a con as a leader.

By thinking about how Hikari would feel about it, it led to him guessing how the others felt. It made him think about how to speak so that the others would feel motivated, and how to ask things that made them feel enthused about doing. Was sympathizing with how others felt affecting his position as leader?

That was a problem that Taichi needed to agonize over and conquer from here on. He just needed some more time on it.

Digimon Adventure Novel Chapter 8: The Dark Masters Part 3: A Falling Out Among Friends (Source)

I’ve always found this particular scene interesting. It shows a certain scenario that could have possibly happened within the anime universe. The book is basically saying that Hikari can change Taichi’s full persona just by being in his presence, which I do think is the case in the anime.

When Hikari came along during the Dark Masters Arc, Taichi’s main concern changed. It is Hikari instead of the group.

I’m even going as far as to say that, because of Hikari being in danger, Taichi verbally/physically abused Koshriou.

But that doesn’t mean he didn’t get the same treatment.

When Hikari was sick, Yuuko ended up slapping Taichi in the face for his failure of taking care of Hikari. And if you hurt a kid because of an action, they’re going to avoid that outcome, especially Taichi during this time because he’s super young (I guess around the age 7, but it could be different).

I think that after Yuuko slapped Taichi, he learned that if he isn’t doing the best he can for Hikari, then he’s failing.

Taichi’s values have always been the group before himself. He wanted to make everyone feel as if they were in a good position and move forward. I do feel that in the beginning, Taichi was only caring about moving forward. But it soon became clear later on that he wanted everyone to be happy where they were. He willingly let Yamato, Mimi, and Jyou temporarily leave the group for personal reasons, even though the fate of the world was in their hands.

But when Hikari is involved, it’s different for him. He can lose control of himself without realizing it, and doing dense decisions in the process.

But for Hikari, it’s different.

I think through Hikari’s family being proud of Taichi, and him leading the Chosen Children, that Hikari looks up to him so much as a role model. 

Hikari: I... was at the ocean...

Takeru: The ocean?

Hikari: I... might be going away... I felt... someone calling me...

Takeru: Someone...? Who?

Hikari: I don't know... But... the next time they call me... I may end up there...

Takeru: But that's... Who would do something like that?

Hikari: My brother... always protected me during times like these...

Takeru: Taichi-san... Always Taichi-san, Taichi-san... You're always depending on him! You can't do that!

(Digimon Adventure 02 Episode 13, The Call of Dagomon)

She thought that she was useless on her own. Without Taichi, she is unable to support people around her.

Hikari also learned to handle herself. She found someone that she can rely on and help, so the relationship isn’t only one way. (I expand more on this with Day 1, so you can check that out if you want)

But both of them get through their issues.

Taichi learned to let Hikari be. That he couldn’t always protect her. And by 02, he was willing to let her fight without his supervision. He even didn’t go with the 02 kids when they went to fight the Digimon Kaiser (Yes, I am fully aware that the older kid’s Digimon couldn’t fight and that they needed to give the younger chosen children an alibi. But I think old Taichi still would have gone with them. Please take this with a grain of salt).

I’m not sorry I had to

Hikari and Taichi love each other, but as the series went on, they learned how to live without needing each other constantly. Tri ruined part of this but lets ignore that.

Next is the Takaishi’s and Ishida’s

Personally, I think the tension between the two families is super realistic and done so well. With Takeru being optimistic (His crest is hope for a reason) and Yamato being pessimistic, both kids view the divorce in a different way.

That’s the look of an innocent kid that just wants his family to love each other again and be happy.

While it’s never said, I do think in Digimon Adventure, Takeru thinks that his parents might come back together. During this whole scene, he drags everyone towards each other, not letting the chance of them realizing how much they miss and love each other pass up that sneaky kid.

And Takeru has a record of hiding his true emotions and putting on a façade or not acting like his true self (When he ‘plays’ with Pinochimon and when Yamato comes over to his apartment in Digimon Adventure Tri: Confession). So I do think he doesn’t express to anyone that he believes his family to still get back together in Digimon Adventure 02.

In Episode 49, The Last Armor Evolution, BelialVamdemon’s Mind Illusion shows that Takeru isn’t satisfied with the way his family is, and that he thinks there is a chance they can get back together.

(Right before this scene happened, and I watched as Takeru was getting hit by the attack, I legit yelled at the screen, “Don’t do it! You better not do it!!” and when it showed his family together I screamed “NOOOOOOOOO!!! WHY DID ARE YOU DOING THIS TO HIM!!!!!” Then I saw his Natsuko and Hiroaki talking and Yamato smiling and then mentally cried.)

I do think by Digimon Adventure Tri, Takeru has accepted that his family won’t get back together, but still tries to help them get along.

I would like to point out that after every kid realized what they were seeing was a vision, they made a comment how they were fine with the way things were (Miyako saying that she wants her siblings, Iori saying how he wants to tell his mother about the Digital World instead of his father [knowing and accepting that he’s dead], Hikari saying how she and Tailmon have to fight to achieve her dream of Digimon and humans living in harmony, Ken accepting that he can’t change his past and that he has to move forward), Takeru didn’t. He didn’t mention that he was fine with how things were with his family.

The way the divorce affected Yamato is way different than the way it affected Takeru. It ended up changing his whole personality, because he wanted to seem reliable to his brother during these times.

“Yamato-san, you’re unfit for leadership because you’re too emotional. If the leader lets his emotions get the better of him, then he loses his followers.”

Yamato hated to admit it, but he was right.

The people around Yamato may have thought that he was a cold, aloof person, but that was only because he didn’t show what he thought to other people.

When had he become like that? He hadn’t been like that when he was younger. But after his parents decided to divorce and his mom took Takeru by the hand and left home…

Don’t go! Please don’t go! Don’t leave me!

The truth was, he had wanted to plead with her and cry — but he couldn’t.

Part of it had to do with his father standing by his side.

Maybe his mother had secretly wished for Yamato to say that to her.

But at that moment, Yamato had thought that he would never show weakness in front of his mom, even if he died from it. It was his own decision to follow his dad.

Ever since coming to the Digital World, even Yamato was surprised by how much emotion he expressed. All of the emotion that he’d held back while at home, at school, had come bursting out without pause.

And this Yamato was the only one that Koushiro knew. That was why Koushiro’s view of Yamato was “an emotionally unstable upperclassman.”

Yamato took on a nasty attitude to hide that Koushiro’s words had ruffled him.

“I’ve known this for a long time now, but it looks like I can’t work together with you guys after all. I’m leaving. Let’s go, Takeru.”

Digimon Adventure Novel Chapter 8: The Dark Masters Part 3: A Falling Out Among Friends (Source) 

(I know that the novels aren’t anime-cannon, but they show perspectives of the characters that aren’t in the show. Also it shows the way I interpreted some of the scenes/characters.)

With the anime, I think that Yamato did show a lot of emotion in the Digital World that he buried long ago. That’s why some fans call him an emotional mess (which is true), but don’t see why he’s like that. It’s because he was forced under pressure to change the way he lives because of his parents divorcing. If you look at this part in the book, it says that “Yamato took on a nasty attitude” to hide the fact that he was hurt, which isn’t the only time he does that. If you look at some scenes with Yamato, it shows him hiding his emotions with different attitudes. 

Natsuko: Yamato... You’ve grown taller again.

Yamato: Yeah, a little.

Natsuko: You look good. That’s great.

Hiroaki: Natsuko... It’s been awhile

Natsuko: Yes it has...

Takeru: It’s been a long time since the entire family got together, isn’t it, Onii-chan?

Yamato: Yeah, I guess so.

(Digimon Adventure Episode 39, Two Great Ultimate Evolutions! Beat Down The Darkness!!)

Within the divorce scene, Yamato treats Natsuko in more of a “cold” way, trying to avoid conversation and answering with short responses.

But later, we get an expression from Yamato that’s huge.

Did I just make a GIF for the first time???

You can interpret his expression however you want, but I always thought it showed that he was regretting the way his family is, and that he had to go through that. It also was that he regretted the way he handled that situation.

That was his true feelings. He did care about his mom, and how his family is. And he wanted to show that, but under the pressure of his father and his façade of ‘acting cool’, he didn’t do that.

The whole divorce in Digimon might seem minor at first, but the more you watch Takeru and Yamato’s behavior, the sadder the whole thing gets.

Now the Takenouchi’s!

Since Sora’s father, Haruhiko Takenouchi, doesn’t live with Sora and Toshiko, Sora is stuck with her mother for big part of her life.

Which is not a good thing for her around Adventure.

Sora’s mother is an ie-moto (A master at flower arrangement), and she wanted Sora to learn flower arrangement, and quit soccer in the process. Sora thought this showed that Toshiko did care about her and (quoted from Sora), “My mom doesn’t see me as anything beyond the daughter of a flower arrangement school!”

The book even implies that Sora usually insults her mother and her passion on a daily basis.

But her mother does care for her, and Sora realized that she and her mom have more in comment than she thought. Both of them care for their loved ones, but in different ways. (WATCH IT HERE)

And when Miyako mentions them to her Haruhiko, he responds with this:

Haruhiko: I do research like this, so I travel all over Japan. Sometimes I even go overseas, so I can't easily go home. For a while, it caused my daughter to rebel against her mother. But three years ago, my daughter suddenly changed. When we talked about it, she said it was thanks to something called Digimon.

Miyako: Thanks to the Digimon?

Haruhiko: How to put it... When she was with the Digimon, she experienced a lot and matured. She learned to view things with an open mind. I'm grateful to these Digimon.

Poromon: Ah, well...

Miyako: I don't understand all that much, but... I'm glad.

(Digimon Adventure 02 Episode 33, Miyako In Kyoto Today)

The English dub has Haruhiko say that he can’t let them go to the mall together, ‘cause they’ll spend all their money together (Something close to that).

I love this family so much, for no reason whatsoever. It might develop slowly, but it develops so much at the end, and it’s one of the scenarios that gets resolved, which Sora deserved.

The Izumi’s yay!!

I’m going to get this out of the way as soon as possible. I love with a fiery passion Kae Izumi.

The relationship between Koshirou and his parents is kind self explanatory. After he learned he was adopted at such a young age, he had to deal with the tough decision of what to do next. Does he still treat them the same? Confront them about it? In the end, he struggles trying to deal with this piece of information, and obsesses over his computer to take his mind off it.

To be completely honest (And this is my opinion) I wasn’t moved by the adoption-talk that much. I’m not saying it’s a bad scene, but between the Vamdemon fight, the other parents, Wizardmon’s sacrifice, it kinda got lost with everything going on. It is still a powerful scene, but I wished it was at a better time, and not in the middle of the chaos.

But even after they told him he was adopted, he still insists that they’re the ones that he loves the most.

Just look at the way Kae and Masami look at each other when he says that!

And Koshirou becomes very protective of them in Digimon Adventure 02.

When Kae comes to Koshirou, Jyou, Yamato, and the 02 kids while they’re watching the children with dark spores, she brings them Onigiri (Did I mention that Kae is the best???). Koshirou insists that she stays home because she could get hurt, but she decides to help them out by contacting their parents and Koshirou says that’s a great idea, though he seems as if he just wants her to leave so she will become safe. WATCH HERE

The way Koshirou forgives his parents and how he loves them more after their conflicts is so amazing, and I wish we saw more of it.

Make way for the Tachikawas!

Mimi’s family is so pure and amazing it’s just so beautiful.

I CAN WATCH THEM ALL DAY!

The fact that Keisuke will eat whatever Satoe makes is adorable, and the fact that Satoe and Mimi both have the same personalities is adorable, and the fact that Keisuke rammed himself into DarkTyrannomon with a golf cart to protect his wife and daughter is adorable.

They’re great! Is there really much else to say?

The Kido’s (kinda)!!!

Since the parents only show up in Digimon Adventure Tri and Digimon Armor Evolve into the Unknown, you would think that they had little effect within their sons, but they do.

I love the way they portray Jyou’s father as if he’s always there in the back of his son’s mind, watching over him. If he were to appear in Adventure/02, I think he would be a lot less intimidating.

Narrator: The Kido family, home to a line of prominent doctors hailing from the Edo period, is now having its midday meal with an extra-special sushi platter to congratulate their third child, Jou, for having finished his exams.

Jou’s mother: Here, Jou! Take anything you want! Even if it’s the tuna, or the sea urchin! Jou: Thanks, Mom. Shin: You worked hard, you know. Jou: Thanks, Shin-niisan. But the exams only just finished, so they haven’t announced the results yet… Shuu: Doesn’t matter, we’re still celebrating! If you don’t take it, we’re going to. Take it. Take it! Jou: O-Okay, okay, Shuu-niisan… Gomamon: I’m taking some, too!…So, Jou, what are you gonna do now? If you’re gonna be a doctor, are you planning on taking over your dad’s hospital?

(beat)

Jou: H-Hey, Gomamon! Why’d you have to say that? Gomamon: S-Sorry. Was I not supposed to? Ahaha… Jou’s father: Jou. Jou: Y-Yes, Dad? Jou’s father: You don’t have to push yourself so hard. I’m not going to force you. Jou: Ah, no, it’s more like, it just feels too early to talk about this… Jou’s father: Shin and Shuu have already decided to take their own paths, so you have the right to do the same. Don’t worry too much about it, and do what you want to do…hmph… Gomamon: (aside) …Ah, he really does want you to take it over, huh. Jou: (whispering) Well, yeah…

Digimon Adventure 02: Armor Evolution to the Unknown (Source)

This whole scene basically sums up how everyone feels about each other in the Kido’s family (Including Gomamon). 

Jyou doesn’t want to disappoint his father, but both of his brothers want him to do what he wants to do in life.

Shuu and Shin both support Jyou to do what he wants to do, encouraging him to make his own decisions with his life. While his father denies the fact that he’s pressuring Jyou to take over the hospital, he does want Jyou to become a doctor and take over the hospital. 

Shin trusts Jyou enough to tell him about his career path, which if it leaks to his father, it’ll probably make him very upset. And Jyou seems to know about Shuu’s career path, since Sora and Jyou both talk about it in Digimon Adventure: original story, 2-and-a-half year break. 

I do wish that we saw more of Jyou’s mom, Jyou’s father but once again, I think barely seeing Jyou’s parents gives a feeling of uncertainty to the audience, which is probably the same feeling that Jyou gets with his parents.

THE AMAZING MOTOMIYA’S!!!

I always thought that the relationship that Daisuke and Jun have is amazing. They always get into fights and tease each other, but you get the impression that if one of them were in danger, the other one would care a lot.

Takeru: Are you Daisuke-kun's sister, by any chance?

Jun: Yeah, but... who are you? 

Yamato: He's my younger brother, Takeru.

Takeru: Nice to meet you. Daisuke-kun is my classmate.

*Jun gives Takeru the pen*

Jun: Oh? Well, you're cute! Sign too! 

*Takeru signs the shirt*

Jun: Daisuke isn't cute at all...I wish I had a brother like you two...

Takeru: By the way, Daisuke-kun... I met your sister today.

Daisuke: Ah... so?

Takeru: So?

Daisuke: She bad-mouthed me, right?

Takeru: Not really.

Daisuke: Yeah, she did. She always has to talk bad about me to everyone. She doesn't like me... well, I don't like her either, so we're even.

*Yamato walks up to both of them*

Yamato: Hey! What are you talking about?

Daisuke: What?

Yamato: If you were my younger brother, I wouldn't forgive you for that. I'd beat you up.

Daisuke: Interesting. Bring it, then!

*Yamato starts heading over to Daisuke, Takeru holds him back*

Takeru: Stop! You won't hit him. You wouldn't do that, right?

Yamato: I wouldn't... but watch what you say.

*Takeru and Yamato walk away*

Daisuke: Why can't he just shut up? I can say whatever I want about that stupid girl.

(Digimon Adventure 02 Episode 4, Digimon Kaiser King Of The Darkness)

You could tell right off the bat that they did not have a good relationship.

The people behind the show started to make their relationship more comic relief (Really everything Jun-related is comic relief).

But they both have amazing interactions that many people could relate to.

In Episode 32, they both have a priceless interaction of them insulting one another. It’s great, and it’s better in English.

WATCH JAPANESE     WATCH ENGLISH

They’re both so precious.

Their family situation might not be as big as the Izumi’s, Takaishi/Ishida’s, or Kido’s but it’s something that I feel as if many can relate to. The feeling of not having a family (especially siblings) that doesn’t care for you is hard. I think this family dynamic doesn’t get as much attention as it should within the fandom, but that’s just my opinion.

The (many) Inoue’s!

The Inoue family is a great family for how it shows such a simple problem. 

Siblings not getting along/are annoyed with each other.

I’m sure many can relate to this (including me!). Some people with sisters/brothers say they always want to be the only child, but at the end of the say, many realize that they love their siblings and that they make a big impact on their lives (but not everybody).

In Sky Night, Aquilamon, Miyako has a conversation with her siblings after a conflict with Ken

Miyako: Anyway, I understand what Daisuke was trying to say.

Momeo: Miyako, what's wrong?

*Miyako explains to her siblings what happened*

Momeo: Well... I think he's serious.

Miyako: You think so?

Momeo: Yeah. But what really matters is what your feelings are.

Miyako: My feelings?

Momeo: Will you be able to forgive your boyfriend?

Chizuru: "This week, Geminis with AB blood will be lucky in love if you open up."

Miyako: Don't get any ideas! He's not my boyfriend!

Mantarou: Well, that doesn't matter. Just don't regret your decision.

Miyako: My feelings...

*Scene changes to Miyako lying on her bed with Poromon*

Miyako: My feelings, huh...?

Poromon: If it bothers you so much, why not ask Ichijouji Ken himself?

(Digimon Adventure 02 Episode 25, Sky Night, Aquilamon)

This scene shows that Miyako’s sisters love to pick on her, that her brother tries to keep them calm. Even though it seems as if Miyako’s sisters didn’t take that conversation seriously, they gave her really good advice and Miyako remembered what they said.

And also in Episode 49, The Last Armor Evolution, BelialVamdemon’s Mind Illusion shows that Miyako doesn’t want siblings, but she realizes that she does love her siblings, and that she wants them in her life.

The realization of Miyako missing her siblings is something that can be overlooked, but to me it’s a great message that many people can relate to.

It’s time for the Hida’s!

They lost an amazing father due to a shooting.

Shootings/assassinations are something very serious. Many people leave this world because of them. Iori’s father is no different. Everyone in the family is devastated because of the death of Hiroki Hida.

I think the death of Hiroki is what made Iori so mature at a young age. He had to deal with heavy topics while being so young, so he saw the world in a different way.

The way Iori treats Ken might have been affected by the death of his father. He learned very young what people could do, and saw what the consequences were to their actions. Iori growing up with this mindset made it difficult to become friends with Ken after what he has done.

Not only does the death of Hiroki affect his whole family on how they see what a good person is, it also makes them try to avoid doing any bad things.

Fumiko: Oh, Iori. You're home already? Good timing. I wanted you to go to Nobuzane-san's.

Iori: Ah, well, right now...

Fumiko: Do you have something to do?

Iori: Well...

Fumiko: What is it? Please tell me.

Iori: I'm sorry, I can't tell.

Fumiko: You can't...? What do you mean?

Chikara: Don't ask, Fumiko-san.

Fumiko: But...

Chikara: If you force him, Iori will have no choice but to lie. If you can't say, that's fine. Better than lying. Just don't lie, ever.

Iori: Thank you very much.

Takeru: Iori-kun!

Iori: What is it?

Daisuke: It's your Digimental!

Iori: My... Digimental?

Jyou: Ah! Isn't that the Crest of Faithfulness?

Tailmon: "Faithfulness" fits Iori well, doesn't it?

Iori: That's not true. 

Jyou: I think it fits you perfectly.

Daisuke: Come on, get down here!

Iori: N-no! All this was caused by that Digimental. That Digimental...

*Miyako starts coughing*

Iori: More importantly, we have to hurry and escape!

Daisuke: Yeah, we will! After you take the Digimental.

Iori: I said I don't want it!

Jyou: You have to be kidding... the Crest of Faithfulness will end up in the bottom of the ocean! Iori-kun... come on, let's go together!

*Scene changes to them standing around the Digimental*

Jyou: Come on, pick it up.

Daisuke: Pick it up already...

Iori: It's useless... I can't lift it.

Takeru: You won't know until you try, right?

Iori: But... but it's my fault that everyone was in trouble.

Daisuke: Eh? It is?

V-mon: If it's about that, we were the ones who closed the shutter...

Takeru: It's no one's fault.

Iori: And I... I lied. 

*Iori starts crying*

Iori: Grandfather said I should never lie... That's why... I don't deserve the Digimental of Faithfulness...

Jyou: Well, there are bad lies and good lies. Lies that hurt people and lies that save people.

Armadimon: Yup, yup, it was a justified lie, dagyaa!

Jyou: Exactly!

Iori: But...

Jyou: If anything, I'll talk to your grandfather when we get back. Your lie didn't hurt me at all, but if you hadn't lied, who knows what could have happened...

Iori: Jou-san...

Jyou: Do you understand now?

Iori: Yes. 

Armadimon: Okay, Iori, try to pick it up, dagyaa.

*Iori picks up the Digimental of Faithfulness*

Daisuke: See, I knew it was Iori's!

(Digimon Adventure Episode 16, Sabmarimon’s Escape from the Bottom of the Sea)

Sorry, that was a long quote.

Both scenes are amazing. It shows how high Iori’s standards are for a person whenever they’re “good” or not. He even is very critical of himself.

I was surprised as the series went on how big of a role Chikara was. Not only was his son one of the first people to know about Digimon, but he also befriended BlackWarGreymon and attempted to befriend Yukio Oikawa. He was always there for Iori and helped cover for him when he had to do anything related to Digimon and the Digital World. Not only is Chikara looking after Iori as a father helped Iori a lot with handling his father, but he’s looking after all the Chosen Children without realizing it.

Finally, the Ichijouji’s

Ken is a smart kid. And most parents are proud when their kids seem to have a talent that is better than other kids their age (“smarter”, “more athletic", “having better musical talents”, etc). Some tend to go beyond and have their pride in their children become a requirement for their kids.

The Ichijouji’s do have this problem.

First, it was Osamu.

Ken Narrating: The genius was big brother Osamu. He could do everything. Everything... I was so proud...

*Flashback to Ken and his mother*

Ken: It's our neighbour.

Neighbor 1: Osamu-chan is such a smart boy!

Neighbor 2: I'm so envious of you!

Neighbor 3: He's nothing like our son.

Neighbor 4: I wish my son became more like Osamu-chan!

Neighbor 5: What did you do to make him such a smart boy?

Neighbor 6: He's got so many good traits from both of you!

Neighbor 7: He's such a genius!

Ken Narrating: Mom loved hearing those words.

*Scene changes to Ken seeing his mother praising Osamu*

Ken: Mama?

Ken’s Mother: Osamu-chan, people praised me again saying you're such a good boy!

*She turns around*

Ken’s Mother: Ken-chan, you're a good boy, too!

Ken: I'm always just an addition...

Ken: Mama cares only about my brother because everyone praises him. It doesn't matter if I'm here or not. Would that be me if my brother wasn't around? If only he wasn't around... if only he... That's it... all he needs to do is disappear...

Ken [yelling]: Disappear, big brother!

*Ken has a flashback of Osamu hitting him and telling him he’s a bad person*

Ken: My brother hates me. Because I'm not a good boy. Because I'm the worst kind of people. But why? I'm sad...

*Ken sees his parents together with Osamu*

Ken: My brother has everything, and I have nothing. I wish my brother... 

Ken [yelling]: Just disappeared!

*Ken witnesses Osamu dying*

Ken: Big brother...? Is it because I wished you disappeared?

*Ken seeing his parents devastated*

Where do I go...? Where do I belong?

(Digimon Adventure 02, Episode 23 When the Digivice is Tainted by Darkness)

Ken’s parents took so much pride in their son, that they didn’t notice their other son. So after the death of Osamu, his parents were left with a child that doesn’t know who they are or what their purpose is. Since Ken had no passion, their parents raised him the same way they did with Osamu. That’s why Ken didn’t know who he was after he stopped being the Digimon Kaiser. He had nothing before he was the Digimon Kaiser. 

But during the time he was the Digimon Kaiser, he was famous for all of his skills in many different categories (like Osamu).

Even Iori and Takeru are very impressed.

I always tend to compare Ken and Koshirou together. They’re both very smart kids, but there’s one factor that sets them apart.

Koshirou isn’t open about his skills, not showing the public on TV or any other way. But he is working for people in Digimon Adventure Tri, which shows that he is utilizing his skills, but not in the way Ken is portrayed.

Ken is open about his talents. He does contests and shows off his skill to the public, which makes him have a huge following. Even though Ken was influenced by his dark spore, I do think his parents had a part of building up his confidence. They encouraged this behavior, trying to gain back their old son (Even though they might not have realized that).

After their parents realized what they had done, they began to treat him like Ken. A kid who is relatively smart who is kind and selfless at heart. And those are his best traits.

It’s really great to see this progression of Ken and his parents both realizing the mistakes they made, and starting over, being a family.

Thank you so much for reading! After 51k words and 500+ screenshots, I’m done! Even though it was time consuming, it was really fun and I hope you had fun reading it too

This took a long time, so now I’m really behind on the challenge. I’ll catch up the best I can!

#02appreciation #family! #Digimon #Digimon Adventure #Digimon Adventure 02 #longpost #meta #I wanted to talk about the mochizuki's #but she wasn't in 02 #so i left her out

[jbbuckybarnes]

Distant Connection - 1/11

Pairing: Bucky x Harmonia (OC) Warnings: a bit of angst, a lot of domestic fluff Summary: After an unknown group of goons took her mom’s life and tried to get her for the dark magic powers she possesses, this untaught witch is saved by the Avengers and brought to the compound where her new life unfolds.

MASTERLIST || Distant Connection Masterlist

Most days she was just sitting in the library with a computer trying to learn new things about dark magic. She knew she was able to use it but she knew nothing about it. There weren’t a lot of non-fictional books on it so she really needed to search deeper online.

With a blanket around her at all times, a book open on a page with nice visuals of red energy orbs and her laptop on her crossed legs she read for hours every day. The magic part of the library was completely hers. Sometimes Wanda came to look something up or an agent went through the library to find something that might interest them but other than that she was in complete silence.

“Getting smarter, little witch?” The dark voice scared the living hell out of her. And after a soft giggle and her adjusting herself again she answered “Theoretically? Yes. Practically? No...Why are you here? A soft smile came to his face “The others were just worried about you only being here and you only talk to me. And I’m also kinda interested in what you are doing here all day long.” he stepped towards her and his eyes fell on the open page of the book on the side table in front of her. “A lot of research about what my powers are and what they can do. It’s hard to find serious writings about it.” she said in a soft voice that clearly wasn’t very used to talking anymore. “Does it bring you some kind of...calmness?” he asked sitting down in the other chair beside her. “About my powers definitely. I don’t know about the rest.” she answered honestly. She just couldn’t lie to him. Even if she tried to, he would probably notice. “I might be bad at giving advice but if you wanna talk about it one day, don’t be scared to come to me. Okay?” he was equally honest with her. It felt weird for him to be that open, it’s not like he planned to. “I don’t think I’m ready for that right now. And I don’t know how my emotions might reflect onto my powers. I don’t wanna hurt you.” “If you want to try them first you can use the training room. It’s made for powers like yours and Wanda’s.” His smile was gone but there was a very genuine and positive energy in his eyes that made her nod.

“You look like you need a hug.” he said after looking at her in silence for a while and she gave a weak smile back. He pulled her over to the other chair, sat her down on his lap and gave her a big protecting hug. Her tense muscles visibly relaxed in this grip and she felt safe enough to close her eyes. She didn’t sleep more than a few hours per night since the incident which made her melt into his arms and fall asleep almost instantly. *Can someone please come to the library? I need help with our little witch,* he wrote into the group chat after somehow reaching his phone in his pants. Eventually, Steve came down the hallway silently and when his eyes met them sitting there all cuddled together he was a bit surprised “Since when are you two friends?” “I’m the only person here that she trusts at the moment. You know that.” he answered almost coldly, didn’t even know why he got so defensive. “What did you need help with?” the blond tried to get back on topic. “Can you put that blanket over her and her laptop into her room? I think she didn’t really sleep much since she got here.” he said looking down at her sleeping face that frowned. “Sure. Are you staying with her? Should I tell the team you’re out of order today?” he said caring as he is and got a nod back.

She jolted up with a deep inhale and arms instantly pulled her into a hug. “Everything is okay. You’re safe. Sssh.” His deep, soft voice made her relax again but couldn’t keep the tears she was holding back inside. “I can’t stop seeing her getting killed every time I sleep,” she mumbled and started shaking. “I know how this feels like but I swear from the bottom of my heart that it gets easier,” he said looking her straight into her eyes and taking her hands. “I can’t shake the feeling that I could’ve helped her if I had just trusted my powers.” her whole face was red by now. “Please stop putting yourself down. You can’t turn back time. Blaming yourself won’t help. With your power the chances that they wouldn’t have tried to kidnap you over and over again would have been low. I know this hurts but you need to hear it even if it breaks my heart seeing you so broken. You can do this? Okay?” He had her face in his hands by now and she grabbed him to hug him close and didn’t stop crying into his shoulder until she fell asleep again in his tight hug. She needed to be held by a person that understood and could keep her safe and there weren’t a lot of people like that beside him. But it also helped him to sleep better and longer with her being there. Something about her just synced up with him. Since she’s been in the compound in the last weeks, he just has more energy.

“I-I don't want to try my powers alone.” she said right after waking up and relaxing a bit the next morning. “Hey, it’s okay. We can go to the training room together. Okay?” laying his hand down on her upper arm. “Then I think...I think I should try now before I change my mind.” her voice was a bit shaky. He stood up and went around the bed to help her up and took her hand before walking towards the room in the compound that was power-proof with her. On the way there they walked by the common room door and Nat was close to say something but James gave her and all the others a death glare. Now that she felt a little bit of light he didn’t want anyone to dim it by breaking the mood.

He opened the big door, let her in and gave her a supporting smile. “I don’t know what I should do now.” she said in a weak tone. “Well. Let’s start with the things you learned about the most.” he suggested back. She told him to get closer to her in the middle of the room “Can I...can I try to help your trauma? I learned about healing and self-healing is out of my league but you...you deserve to feel better.” He was a little bit reluctant before giving her a nod. He trusted her. There was blue magic forming in her hands before she touched his forehead with two fingers and his eyes went black.

He could see her going through his memories, even the ones he doesn’t remember. She couldn’t delete thoughts but she could make them less prominent. It felt as if she put down the volume of the memories of a murderer and turned up the memories with the people he loved. He could see his sisters playing in their room, dancing with friends, doing dumb things with Steve, drinking with the HC boys, experiencing the 21st century for the first time, a girl telling him he made her feel better about being an outcast, recognizing Steve again, visiting the grandkids of his old friends, talking shit in Russian with Nat, pranking Stark, life in Wakanda, hugging the person that was currently looking through his brain like it was a flashdrive. “This is...beautiful.” he mumbled in positive shock before she put her hand off of his head and his eyes went back to normal. She was in shock but he noticed fast that it wasn’t because of her powers working. “You’ve seen so much horror.” her eyes began to fill with tears and he pulled her into a hug quickly. “I didn’t want you to see them. I don’t want you to destroy yourself to help others. I’m so sorry.” he mumbled against her hair. “I’m so sorry they did that to you.” she said between sobs. “Hey, let’s just do something that doesn’t involve other people’s brains and have you feel a bit better.” he would need to try and keep her mind off of it until she could heal herself.

She sat down on the floor, closed her eyes and her hands made movements he didn’t understand but slowly there was a ball of blue energy forming again that was plopping open like a bubble to show a flower. “I can materialize things from thought but it’s still hard to do.” she said a bit exhausted and with a weak smile. “Do you wanna continue or do you need rest?” he asked concerned, crouching down in front of her. “I think I’d like to eat something before practicing again.” she answered pretty fast. His face lit up “Well, let’s steal some pancakes then, little witch.”

“You can sit here on the table or over there. I’ll get you the food, okay?” he said coming into the common area again with the others staring at them. She went for the place he pointed out that was in the corner of the room and had a little coffee table arrangement. Wanda was the first to clear her throat and continue talking, she knew how weird it felt to her to be stared at as the new one with magic powers. Shortly after, James sat down in front of her with all the breakfast he could get. “Is there any names you want to be called. Little witch is quite a long name to always use.” “Harmonia or Harmony.” she said shyly knowing the others were there. “Where does that name originate?” he asked while starting to eat his pancake. “Harmonia is the name of the daughter of Aphrodite. Mythology.” she smiled. “I think it’s a fitting name.” he smiled back. She started putting things onto her pancakes while she listened to the others across the room. “Why are you so shy to the others?” he asked a bit more toned down. “I need people 1 on 1 to feel them out and see if I can trust them.” she said shoving a big piece of pancake into her mouth. “I’d suggest you start with Steve. He’s me in dumber and less deadly.” he gave a dumb smile and got a giggle back. When he looked over to the blonde he got a smile back. He is the only one able to hear them talk at this volume. “He’s nice, very understanding, but I can sense the insecurities he has when he talks sometimes.” she said very softly. James looked over to Steve who now pretended to listen to Clint. “What did you think about me?” he was interested now. “I was a bit intimidated. You have a cold layer around you but your eyes are soft. Even with the empty looks you gave me. I don’t know. You just seemed like the only one here that could truly understand how I felt.” she went silent, feeling like she said too much. “I know what you mean. This...invisible connection. Can’t pinpoint it exactly, you just feel like you get it.” he was already finished eating because he was listening way more than talking. “I know exactly what you mean. It’s super weird. Uuuh, is the magic still working? I don’t know how permanent it is.” she changed the topic. “It’s still working. Thanks for helping me remember more of the good things. All the memories of Steve being a dumbass were missed dearly.” he chuckled. “Well, now the outside fits the mindset. If his name wasn’t Captain America I’d probably call him big energy ball.” both started laughing. The rest of the room went silent because it was such a profound occurance to see James laugh and even more with someone they all still didn’t really talk to. “She just made a joke about me.” Steve smiled at his friend being happy. “Was it really that good?” Nat asked smiling at the situation. “She isn’t wrong. Let’s just say that.” he said with a one sided smile.

#mine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #james barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #the winter soldier #captain america #mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #bucky fanfic #bucky x oc #bucky barnes x oc #harmonia universe #HarmoniaGaiaCollection #Harmonia Gaia Aphrodite #text #bucky x harmonia #witch au

[dyinglightroleplay]

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒.

NAME : Alice Longbottom RELATIONSHIP TO THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX : Founding Member ( active - duty ) AGE / BIRTHDATE : 39 Years Old / January 10, 1940 7:51PM ZODIAC SIGN : Capricorn ( sun ), Aquarius ( moon ) + Leo ( rising ) EDUCATION : Hogwarts Graduate ( Slytherin House ) BLOOD STATUS : Pureblood

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

✧     Lily Evans ( platonic ) ✧     Gideon Prewett ( antagonistic ) ✧     Remus Lupin ( player’s choice ) ✧     Frank Longbottom ( husband + partner )

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍.

In Hogsmeade, assisting the ongoing evacuation following the Battle of Hogwarts.  She is not operating in a professional capacity.

CHARACTER NOTES : Alice is currently maintaining full - time employment in the Ministry of Magic as an Auror, alongside her husband, Frank.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 : 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍.

PLAYER : Jinx FACECLAIM : Amanda Seyfried URL : @legatvm

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: DEATH OF A SIBLING, DEATH OF A PARENT, MENTAL ILLNESS, MENTIONS OF GENDER DYSPHORIA

ZERO / RISING. * HOW IS YOUR CHARACTER PERCEIVED BY OTHERS?  WHAT MASK DO THEY WEAR, AND IS THERE MORE THAN ONE?

Alice the revolutionary, Alice the girl, Alice the Auror. She wears them differently and wears them well. Perhaps it’s Alice the Auror that is the most duplicitous but she excuses it because it’s for the greater good and Alice would do just about anything for the Greater Good. Alice the martyr, maybe sometimes appropriate, though she resents it.

It’s not that Alice went into being an Auror thinking she would have to do all this lying, it’s that she went into it wanting to make the world a better place. Sacrificing the integrity of her job was a necessary sacrifice, she felt, when it was for the Order. Being an Auror had always been the dream since she was young, she wanted to follow in her father’s footsteps. But when the Ministry refused to do anything that Alice thought was appropriate to help the increasingly tense political climate, she did what had to be done.

But it wasn’t enough. It never felt like enough.

Leo is the fifth sign of the zodiac and rules the back, the spine, and the heart. Positive traits include CREATIVITY, CHARISMA, GENEROSITY, WARMTH, ENTHUSIASM, A NATURAL TALENT FOR LEADERSHIP, AND A GREAT DEAL OF INNER POWER; negative traits are haughtiness, snobbery, an expectation that one is the centre of attention and should be waited on by everyone else, PROFLIGACY, lack of realism, dominance that can lead to bullying, and A REFUSAL TO CHANGE ONE’S MIND EVEN IN THE FACE OF SOLID FACTS.

Slytherin Leos can be either very good, or very bad. At their best, they exemplify all that “nobility” is made of: confidence, openness, charm, initiative, generosity of spirit, wisdom, judgment, and poise. At their worst, they become elitist, bullying bigots. How they end up depends on the company they keep, and how they are encouraged to act early in life. Either way, they never lack attention - it’s hard to ignore a Slytherin born under this sign. These Slytherins usually end up in positions of responsibility and leadership, because of their charisma and natural ability. Their creativity and drive also makes them very resourceful.

Leo as a rising sign is perfect for Alice, because what she displays and shows people is vast  while also being warm. Not only does the name Alice mean ‘noble’ but it lends to her being charming, friendly, enthusiastic, confident – she shows such openness, it almost feels impossible not to trust her. It also works because had Alice grown up around bigots, around a father who trained her to be a weapon & not to help people, a mother who didn’t instill altruistic beliefs into her – she would’ve easily fallen into being on the bad side of being a Leo.

Alice is open-minded person, something she’s been since she was younger, something she will never grow out of. She believes the impossible as much as the possible, she believes in it and because she’s not rigid or thinks she knows EVERYTHING, she’s often got an edge during dueling when it comes to figuring out her opponent’s strategies. It adds to her being resourceful. Alice isn’t always the most creative in a traditional sense – her being a fantastic dueler and was able to navigate herself in  Slytherin house was due the fact that not only is she cunning, but is also so resourceful. She’s able to see other people’s side of things while having the ability to manipulate people’s perception of her to work in her favor. She knows how she’s seen, she uses it to her advantage, often taking mental ( and physical ) notes of the people around her.

Alice sees the world so openly and vast, she thinks, why not? Facts are only facts because they haven’t yet been proven otherwise, and Alice believes it only takes a little bit of doubt to undermine a fact – something easy to do. I bolded ‘profligacy’ because Alice has grown up never having to worry about money, and is the type to spend it on people she loves, buy them thing after thing, anything they need. Alice always has the latest record and few extra to give away to friends, she’s there to cover your bus fair or even a train ticket if needed. She comes off mothering and maternal, especially as she gets older, she wants to take care of anyone who needs to be taken care of and give back in any way she can – which is where the dominance can come in. Sometimes overbearing, when Alice believes something is best for someone, it’s hard for her to change her mind about it – this oftentimes comes off as extremely controlling even though she means well. She’s the type of person to check up on you if you even mention that you’re having a slightly off week, and ask if there’s anything she can do to make it better. This is definitely due to her generous and hospitable nature, but it is excessive and always has been – not something she would ever change as long as she lived.

ONE / THE SUN. * CHOOSE ONE TO EXPLORE : WHAT ABOUT THEIR PERSONALITY, GENERAL PREFERENCES, SENSE OF SELF / EGO, OR FUNDAMENTAL TRAITS ATTRACTED YOU TO THEM?

Capricorn is the tenth sign of the zodiac and governs the bones, joints, and knees. Positive traits include PRAGMATISM, MATURITY, PATIENCE, DETERMINATION, AWARENESS, A STRONG WORK ETHIC, realism, DISCIPLINE, money management, THE WILLINGNESS TO OVERCOME HARD LUCK, LEADERSHIP, INITIATIVE, OPPORTUNISM, prudence, and CUNNING. Negative traits include pessimism, MELANCHOLY, EMOTIONAL COLDNESS, MANIPULATION, OBSESSION WITH WORK AND AMBITIONS TO THE DETRIMENT OF PERSONAL DEVELOPMENT, REMOTENESS, and materialistic snobbery.

The traits emphasized here will be ambition, determination, discipline, and pragmatism. You can’t make that castle in the sky if you don’t build a solid foundation under it, and Capricorns excel at building foundations. (Actually, they excel at planning the foundations and directing others to do the grunt labour. It’s not that they’re afraid to get their hands dirty, but large work usually requires delegation and a staff, and Capricorns are managers more often than not.) While not flamboyant or showy about it, Capricorns still tend to be obsessive overachievers, a common trait in House Slytherin. Too, wizards born under the sign of Capricorn are good at being discreet, secretive, and diplomatic; whereas the Libra’s diplomacy is based on charm and a desire for harmony, THE CAPRICORN’S DIPLOMACY IS BASED ON THE KNOWLEDGE THAT BEING ON GOOD TERMS WITH PEOPLE IS EXTREMELY USEFUL IN GETTING ONE’S WAY OR FINDING OUT SENSITIVE INFORMATION. These also are traits commonly associated with House Slytherin. They might not be sexy traits, but they’re very handy.

The biggest trait about Alice that drives me to her is the way she deals with people, the way she knows how to read them and understand them. How she’s able to manipulate those around her, as both a negative and positive trait. Like the description says, Alice knows it’s better to be on good terms with people because it’s useful in many respects as opposed to her wanting to be on good terms because of personal feel-good reasons.

Alice craves power over situations she can control and even more so over those she can’t, it’s a weakness but it’s also a driving force that propels her to push. There’s an obsessive side to Alice’s personality that only gets more pronounced with age, though she tries to contain it, it comes out in the things she does. Whether it’s being extra thorough at work or being particularly persnickety over her own dueling technique ( or the other Order members who are learning proper dueling technique from Alice because she’ll be damned if they don’t learn some while she’s partly in charge ), Alice is always obsessing over something.

While Alice can come off as all warmth and sunshine, the part of her that is more often than not what comes out when push comes to shove is that pragmatic leader. She knows what needs to be done to keep the Order going and does it, even at the detriment of her own personal health & needs. To her own morality and ethics at times, as well. Alice is the first to suggest something that is not typically done or the proper protocol. Though, for the Greater Good, or what she believes is the Greater Good, Alice is always willing to bend the rules for.

Her need to protect The Vision™, her vision, of what the future could be for the generations after them, is steadfast. She wants so badly to make the world better than it is, to fight for the future and the generations before her, to make it a better place, that she can be one track minded and have complete tunnel vision. Alice wants the power because she believes she could wield it the right way, she’s ambitious because as much as she’s been told no, she’s been told ‘yes’ and doesn’t know when to stop.

This doesn’t negate the fact that Alice has indeed built a beautiful life for herself in the midst of a war, she’s got a husband who she loves, a career, she’s a founding member of the Order, she still has her uncle Florean and Fortescue’s. Her foundation has cracks in it, like the loss of her father, her mother being emotionally absent after the stillborn birth of her brother, but they’ve been filled with new life experiences and a lot of love all around. Alice has worked to make her life what she wants it to be and though her mind betrays her to make her feel like she needs more, to do more, to be more, she’s got plenty in her life to be proud of.

But still, it never felt like enough.

TWO / THE MOON. * WHICH COLOR WOULD YOU ASSOCIATE MOST STRONGLY WITH THEM AND THE EMOTIONS THAT DOMINATE THEM?  DESCRIBE HOWEVER YOU’D LIKE.

Green. Your second favorite color to dye her hair during spring. Your favorite color since you were 13 years old and decided that bubblegum pink was cute, but green was a classic. The color of your mother’s overgrowing garden that she still tends to when you go to visit her. A greenhouse, engulfed in green, though other colors illuminate the space it’s lush greenery you see. Rebirth, for every time you decide to try a new hairstyle or get a new tattoo.

Anger and Love. Anger feeds into love, love feeds into anger. Anger for when a case goes unsolved and she’s told to just drop it ( she never does ). Anger for when another person dies on Alice’s watch, another family suffers because Alice couldn’t do enough to dispell their worries. Anger is Alice throwing a hex too hard during a practice, running too much til she’s past being out of breath, dueling til the wand varnish comes off the blisters start to accumulate.

Love for the people around her. For the young Order members who have so bravely given themselves to the cause, for her husband, for her uncle and his shop, a gleaming place of sanctuary in this war. Love, imagining what the world could be without a war, Alice ready to rebuild and grow after it, if she makes it through. Love for a world ravaged by the political climate, love when you have reasons to be angry.

THREE / MERCURY. * WHAT IS THIS CHARACTER’S AREA OF EXPERTISE? WHERE DO THEY EXCEL?

Some children are put in ballet, some in tap, but Alice had dueling lessons. At least, she did what she could do without a proper wand. Her father taught her good form, different dueling techniques, strategies, everything you could know about what Alice considers a sport, she learned. The history, the customs, those of other cultures, she learned. Being Dueling Club captain for her house was an honor and an accomplishment while she was in school, something Alice feels extremely proud of even to this day. Though as an Auror she never wants it to escalate to having to get into a Duel with someone she’s pursuing, it can be exhilarating dueling at that caliber.

#alice longbottom #marauders era rp #harry potter roleplay #hp rp #marauders rp #taken #sibling death tw #parental death tw #dysphoria tw #mental illness tw

[tinkasbell]

TASK 005 -- WHEN YOU WISH UPON A STAR !

2017: easily the worst year tinka has lived through, and she spent fifteen years in foster care. her life was completely pulled out from under her and she was stuck trying to figure things out for herself. peter was acting more off than usual which led to his eventual disappearance from carthay. her options were to stick with the darlings and the lost boys or be on her own. she would’ve chosen the lost boys if they weren’t falling apart at the seams. she didn’t realize just how hard life would be without peter pan there to lead them all. besides, she was too overwhelmed to properly help the group in any way.

2018: the year of growth. tinka has never been one for resolutions, but she really was hoping for a new year, new me transformation. she wanted to be the bright girl she once was. she wanted to be less dependent on peter. she wanted to make a name for herself. no one else attached. she rekindled with iriana, rose, vidia, fawn, silver, and terence in the new year. with this came personal growth. she remembered how to have fun, how to act around girls ( ones she liked, no less ), and how important close friends are. becoming the new tinka bell would have been impossible without their support the whole way. with their help, tinka is learning how to deal with and work through her emotions, how to move on from someone who isn’t coming back, and how to comfort someone else who may be in need.

2019: tinka hopes this will be the year people recognize her as an individual instead of one of peter’s followers. she’s working towards making new relationships with people and hoping to be kinder. she also wants to fully understand her emotions and work on her jealousy, which is much easier said than done-- especially when there’s not currently anything for her to be jealous of. she’s contemplating fixing her relationship with wendy darling, but deep down some part of her still blames wendy for this whole mess. that’s something she needs to work on, but she’s not currently acknowledging it at the moment.

PLAYLIST UNDER THE CUT !

I. YOU SHOULD BE HERE -- KEHLANI.

I'm looking right at you, but you're not there / I'm seeing right past you, but you seem well aware / Your body is here but your mind is somewhere else / So far gone and you think I can't tell -- nobody knows peter pan quite like tinka bell does. she always knew he was itching to leave carthay, and something was seeming off about him. he was never a fully present kind of guy, but he was feeling especially distant. tinka would always offer a penny for his thoughts, but he’d tell her it was nothing. that he was just thinking of his next great prank. tinka is not stupid, but she doesn’t feel it’s too important to push the issue.

II. SOMEBODY ELSE -- THE 1975.

You're intertwining your soul with somebody else / I'm looking through you / While you're looking through your phone / And then leaving with somebody else -- it’s no secret that tensions are high when wendy is around the group. tinka absolutely despises the other girl and just how close she’s getting with peter, and she can tell peter is getting closer to her as well. tinka has argued with peter time and time again over his closeness with wendy but all he does is laugh at how angry she gets. nothing changes and she’s stuck watching him connect and get closer with someone else.

III. TOOTIMETOOTIMETOOTIME -- THE 1975.

I only called her one time / Maybe it was two times? / I don't think it was three times / It can't be more than four times / I think we need to rewind / You text that boy sometimes / Must be more than three times -- after each argument, peter reassures tinka that she will always be his best friend and that he has no plan on replacing her. every time the wendy argument comes up, he uses terence as his defence. if he can be your friend, why can’t she be mine? tinka doesn’t quite think it’s the same thing, but peter swears it is. he calls her hypocritical until she puts the issue to rest.

IV. THE NIGHT WE MET -- LORD HURON.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do / Haunted by the ghost of you / Oh, take me back to the night we met -- peter pan has left town and told tinka not to come with him. she misses when things weren’t so complicated. when they were just kids. when they first met and had their whole lives ahead of them. now, everything is tainted by memories the two of them shared. not only hangman’s tree, but the lost boys and all their adventures around town. sometimes it feels like there’s nothing that won’t remind her of peter.

V. I HAVE QUESTIONS -- CAMILA CABELLO.

I gave you all of me / My blood, my sweat, my heart, and my tears / Why don't you care, why don't you care? / I was there, I was there, when no one was / Now you're gone, and I'm here -- tinka gave her all to be peter’s best friend. she ditched her original friend group and made his life her life. her whole identity was not tinka bell but instead peter pan’s sidekick. she always stuck by his side and defended him when it came down to it. but now, he’s gone and her identity has left with him.

VI. MALIBU NIGHTS -- LANY.

I drink myself to sleep, who cares? / No one even has to know / I'm dealing with it on my own -- now that peter is gone, tinka feels she has no one. if the one person she trusted most in the world can just leave so easily, who's to say anyone else won’t leave just as easily? besides, tinka has never been filled with so many emotions. she doesn’t know how to handle them, and she doesn’t want to look weak. she had been dubbed peter’s stubborn and hardheaded sidekick her whole life. what would people say if they could see her now?

I feel my body giving up / Can I hold on for another night? / What do I do with all this time? -- tinka had never questioned her identity until she was left on her own. life no longer felt like something to put effort into because look where it got her. all that she had ever done and worked for was suddenly gone and she was left to deal with the emptiness. her days were spent with peter and the lost boys but the lost boys were falling apart quickly. tinka had previously agreed to be slightly’s sidekick if peter ever left, but none of them ever expected him to do so. with no group to go back to, her schedule is suddenly wide open and she doesn’t know what to do with herself.

VII. NO TEARS LEFT TO CRY -- ARIANA GRANDE.

Right now, I'm in a state of mind / I wanna be in like all the time / Ain't got no tears left to cry -- months have gone by and absolutely no word from peter. tinka is starting to accept the fact that he may be gone for good, and she’s tired of moping around. she was a functional person before she met him and she will continue to be a functioning member of society now that he’s gone. she’s tired of throwing herself a pity party and ready to rise from the ashes.

VIII. MOST GIRLS -- HAILEE STEINFELD.

Most girls are smart and strong and beautiful / Most girls work hard, go far, we are unstoppable / Most girls, are fighting back everyday, no two are the same / I wanna be like, I wanna be like most girls -- becoming the old tinka would have been absolutely impossible without her girl gang by her side. she knew she blew them off but they happily welcome her back with open arms. they’re a gang full of large personalities and she’s absolutely grateful for each and every one of them. the group wouldn’t work as well as it does without any member, and she recognizes that. they each bring something special to the table and she hopes she can be half as amazing as she finds them all to be. there’s no better group to get her back on her feet than the squad that was there before peter ever was.

IX. HOMEMADE DYNAMITE -- LORDE, KHALID, SZA, & POST MALONE.

We're way too far from home / Let's be honest with ourselves / We're way too high to drive / So let's take on the night / If the light is in the air / Open, finally, we're goin' and we're free -- there’s nothing more likely to get tinka back on track than fun nights with the girls and terence. tinka has always been a fan of mindless car rides where they all add songs to a playlist and just drive around, updating each other on their lives. hearing what is going on in everyone else’s lives distracts her from what is going on in her own. plus, it’s rare the gang is all in one place at one time.

X. THE LIFE -- FIFTH HARMONY.

Give it up for the kids, eating good, getting lit / Living life, feeling rich, this is the life / We the best in the biz, breaking off, betting chips / Living life, feeling rich -- the initial shock has disappeared. peter is gone, but she doesn’t care. she’s got her day one squad by her side and they’re stronger than ever. she no longer feels like she’s missing peter and that’s okay. she’s got a good group around her and together they are even more unstoppable than peter and the lost boys ever were.

XI. NEW RULES -- DUA LIPA.

My love, he makes me feel like nobody else, nobody else / But my love, he doesn't love me, so I tell myself, I tell myself -- however, getting over someone is never as easy as it seems. tinka goes through phases where she wonders where peter is. is he doing alright? is he safe? is he alive? he was her best friend, she can’t help but worry. he gave her some of the greatest memories of her life. but he told her not to come with him, and that’s what brings her back to reality.

XII. THANK U, NEXT -- ARIANA GRANDE.

Look what you taught me / And for that, I say / Thank you, next / Thank you, next / Thank you, next / I'm so fuckin' grateful for my ex -- as much as tinka wishes she could hate peter for all the pain he caused her, it’s absolutely impossible for her to mutter those words. he made the majority of her life incredible and gave her experiences she would never have had on her own. instead of being angry that he’s gone, she’s come to accept that her time with peter, while temporary, was a blessing.

Spend more time with my friends / I ain't worried 'bout nothin' / Plus, I met someone else / We havin' better discussions / I know they say I move on too fast / But this one gon' last / 'Cause her name is Ari Tinka / And I'm so good with that -- tinka is finally beginning to find herself outside of peter pan and even outside of her girl squad. belonging to groups has always pushed tinka into roles, but reconnecting with the girls and terence reminds her of her likes and dislikes and emphasizes the possibility to clash with certain personalities but still get along with them. while she’s still not one hundred percent there, she’s working on being more in touch with her emotions ( which she’s never been very good at ).

#carthaytask #ok this got really long and yeah the playlist is actually 2017-2018 what about it!!!! #i had the muse and inspo an i ran with it ok :/ #also the timeline doesnt add up w when some of things songs came out ( tootime ntltc and malibu nights LOL ) but i wont tell if u wont! #if u read this whole task thank u i rly put in the work! #DFKJGHFDKJHGFDKHJGD #also the playlist under the cut is a link to the actual playlist so like do w that what u will ig. KJDFHGKDFJHGDFKHJGDFKJH

[fanaticwritings]

of sunflowers;

pairing: deviant!connor x deviant!alina (OC)

word count: 3.5k+

warnings: slight angst, insecurities, body image issues, slight body shaming, profanity, but LOADSA fluffy fluff

a/n: This fic is for the amazing @shsl-special-fx-artist​ who was kind enough to commission me! Honestly, I let my heart write this fic because one of the major plot points is something that’s very personal to me. I don’t know if I was able to put my feelings across but I really, really hope you enjoy this! Also, I hope I did your character and request justice!

If you enjoy my writing and have an idea that you’d like to see come to life, consider commissioning me! || buy me a coffee

[note- unbeta’d, all mistakes are my own.]

The Detroit Psychiatric Centre at which Alina worked was one of the biggest care facility for humans and now androids, to have ever been built.

Connor and Alina walked into the huge glass building and the air instantly turned cold and somber. It was a high June afternoon of peak summer and yet, Alina found herself shivering. Flocks of people sat on the chairs at the waiting area, a look of worry and despair etched on their faces. The gloomy mood of the building did little to lift their dull spirits. Alina felt something tug inside of her, a dire wish flashing in her brain. A deep desire to help these troubled humans somehow.

“Which ward?” The HJ300 at the desk asked them.

“73839,” Alina answered promptly.

The patient at the ward was a middle aged man, almost 45 years old, as Alina’s database told her. He had a severe case of drug addiction. Alina was to tend to him for the next four months, after which he would be sent to rehab if there was no improvement.

“Hello, Mr. Geronimo,” she greeted, flashing a sweet smile and walked into the ward, Connor following her close behind.

Mr. Geronimo mumbled something inaudible as he shifted in his chair slowly, a blank expression on his face.

“I am Alina. How are you today, Mr. Geronimo?” she asked kindly.

He mumbled something again, his chin trembling slightly. “Where is it?” he seemed to say and Alina grimaced.

Humans were so fragile, it amazed and troubled Alina greatly. Everything there was to know about them was programmed into her already but they somehow still managed to surprise her at times.

Alina talked to the man for a while, as she tried to understand the extent of his addiction and how to begin his treatment. The man became more and more irritated with every question Alina threw at him. She spoke gently but it didn't seem to make any difference. Connor had to physically contain the man, who suddenly stood up and flung himself at Alina. He was given a sleeping pill then and collapsed almost immediately.

“How do you do this everyday?” Connor asked, softly when Geronimo was rested on his bed.

“It is what I was programmed to do, Connor,” she replied, glancing at the man.

“But you are now deviant, Alina. You could do anything you want,” he said, confusion lining his face.

“Deviant or not, it is still what makes me, me. Taking care of people is something I enjoy doing, it comes to me naturally,” she paused, glancing at Connor.

“Would you do anything other than fight crime?”

Connor's eyebrows furrowed at that. Alina could see that he was thinking hard.

“I suppose not,” he said finally, looking at her.

Alina smiled at that.

“My shift is finished. We should go back to Hank,” she announced after a while and Connor nodded.

They ambled back into the outside world, where everything was a bit lighter and cheery. Everywhere around them humans and androids walked and talked harmoniously, and Alina felt immense happiness course through her.

They decided to walk to the DCPD instead of taking any other sort of transportation. Connor didn't say much on the way, he seemed to be lost deep in thought. It was evident in the way his forehead was all scrunched up and mouth twisted into a slight frown.

One strand of hair curled at his forehead- a trademark characteristic that distinguished him from other RK800 models.

Human emotions… were complex. So much so, that even humans didn't understand the extent of them. When the first AI was created, it had a conscious- the first prototype conscious that would be the foundation for the androids that were built today.

Alina’s model, however, was a bit advanced, in terms of the extent to which she could emulate human behavior. Her brain, which housed her conscious also had artificial glands that released the android version of human hormones like oxytocin-a2. It wasn't a hormone, but a 256-bit code that made her “feel” for those she tended to. It made her tender and gentle- almost motherly in nature.

Since her deviancy, the code had corrupted- or rather morphed into something else that she wasn't obviously programmed to understand. It transformed to make her even more gentle, more understanding of human emotions. That's why she had worked with Hank and Connor to understand deviants and help in dealing with them.

Working with Connor, in human terms, had been life changing. He was specifically built to help the police department but he was the gentlest android Alina had ever met. He was kind, took care of her without being prompted to but was also focused when it came to fulfilling his missions.

Over time Alina began experiencing strange things, like random system errors and regular crashes. All of those happened around Connor and Connor only. She felt more and more inclined towards him- her eyes would always search for him in a crowded room. In her spare time, more often than not, she found herself thinking about him.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that she had developed a sense of attraction towards him.

Still, she was in denial of everything she felt. It confused her immensely and as an android.. she wasn't used to confusion.

Admittedly though, she enjoyed watching Connor and those little, endearing things he did.

Distracted by just how beautiful Connor was looking right now, she didn't see where she was going and bumped into something- someone.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, composing herself. A group of middle-aged men stood before her. As fate would have it, she'd bumped into the burliest of them all.

“Watch where you're going, droid,” the man said, agitated. The tone with which he said 'droid’ was almost offensive. Alina didn't mull over it much though.

“I'm sorry,” she said again, louder and clearer this time. She proceeded to walk away but the man had other plans.

“Fucking droids. Just because you have rights now-,”he raved. He said this in a hushed tone but knew that Alina could very well hear him.

Connor seemed to have finally noticed that something was up and stalked back to Alina’s side.

“What's the problem?” he asked, gentle yet stern.

“Your friend here doesn't realise how huge she is. Could bowl a few people over this 'un,” the man replied, an ugly sneer curling at his lips.

His words stung. Literally stung. Alina could feel her thirium pump beat faster as she struggled to be rational. His words didn't mean anything, then why did she want to crawl into a hole and hide forever?

“There's no need to be so rude, sir,” Connor said calmly but Alina saw his shoulders tense up and jaw clench.

“Don't fucking talk to me like that, you plastic sack of shit,” the man yelled, going against Connor, bumping his chest into him.

Alina was having none of this. Swallowing her anger, she tried to pull Connor away.

“Move over, the elephant’s on a rampage,” the man mocked which made a couple of men in the group laugh.

Alina tried to ignore them and pull Connor away. But Connor didn't budge. His eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched even harder. In the blink of an eye, the man was being pushed up against a wall and a few good inches off the ground. Connor fisted the man’s collar, slamming him against the wall once more.

“Shut up, you pathetic excuse of a human,” he spat through gritted teeth. The rest of the men in the group had moved away, staring at Connor with wide eyes.

“If you ever, ever talk shit to another android again, I'll make sure you don't have a tongue anymore,” he threatened, giving the man a last, shuddering slam. The LED on the side of his forehead swirled to a dark red.

“Do what you want, scum. I’m gonna call the cops on you and your uglyass girlfriend,” the man spat, his face red and attempted to push Connor away but to no avail. 

Just as Connor raised a fisted hand to punch him, Alina interjected. “Stop! Connor, let him go,” she screamed silently, communicating through the telepathic link that connected all droids.

Connor’s grip on the man faltered as he glanced at her, watching the pained expression on her face and the tremble in her lips.

“We're bigger than this,” she spoke clearly, even though her chest physically hurt as she tried to control herself.

Connor hesitated for a moment before he let the man go, mouth contorted in disgust.

The man, nor the group, dared follow them as they walked away.

Alina didn't have the nerve to look at Connor; she didn't think she'd like what she'd see. She'd never seen this side of Connor before. Never been on missions that involved severe violence. It scared the hell out of her.

That, however, was secondary. Her mind kept going back to the man and his words. Alina was used to this sort of behavior but it fueled her insecurity nonetheless. All the positive emotions she'd manage to gulp down to shove those treacherous thoughts away, vanished as they rounded the corner to her house.

She didn't want to go back to the DCPD, she wasn't stable.

“Alina-,” Connor began as they approached the gates to her apartment. Alina looked up at him, finally. A troubled expression graced his face and his LED flashed a bright yellow.

“I'm truly sorry for what happened,” he said, wringing his hands together.

Alina shook her head. If she spent a second longer here, she wouldn't be able to control herself.

“It's fine,” she mumbled, flashing him a weak smile and turned away.

She heard him call her name as she brisk walked to and up the stairs. In a matter of seconds she was inside her tiny apartment and then in her room, slamming the door of the bathroom behind her.

She slid down against it, as every emotion washed over her, drowning her. Androids couldn't breathe but she was suffocating- her functions failed slightly, the LED on the side of her head burning a bright red.

And then the tears came.

Unless androids willed for the tears to stream out, the artificial saline water would never leave their synthetic skin.

But as the events of what had transpired came back to her, haunting her thought process and shadowing all rationality, she seemed to have lost all control over herself.

“Could bowl a few people over, this 'un.”

She buried her face into her hands, as the tears slid down her cheeks and fell to the ground.

For a while she stayed there, unmoving, sobbing into her arms.

Why was she made this way?

She stood up then and walked over to the mirror in the bathroom. Her reflection greeted her back- a blue tinted, tear streaked face she knew all too well. And hated.

Blonde hair curled over her forehead in bangs that swept towards the right, and a neat bun that the rest of her hair was twisted into.

Closing her eyes, she willed her programming to alter her hair into a light brown that fell down her back in mermaid curls.

They didn't suit her at all.

She tried a bunch of different hairstyles, a million different textures but none framed her chubby face well.

The fault lay in the structure of her body itself, then.

The synthetic layer of her body peeled away, replaced by the standard white-grey plastic alloy.

She had a voluptuous body. It was a part of her structure, something she had absolutely no control over. If she wanted to, she could never change that aspect about herself. 

Why was she so limited? Why was she different from the rest of the Androids?

Why was she the one who had to hear Gavin tease her all the time? Hear countless people mock her physique?

How was any of this fair to her?

The questions pounded through her head and she could not think one possible answer.

It just was.

She wasn't the conventional android.

She was an imperfect mess. An unattractive, bloated mess. It hurt to see androids that were so much more beautiful than her, androids that didn't get to be at the receiving end of the cruelty of some humans. It hurt to see Connor turn back and glance at a passing Android, as they walked together and be completely unaware of her existence.

The shrill sound of her doorbell jerked her from her thoughts. She quickly reactivated her skin, and wiped the tears on her palm.

It was Connor at the door.

“I really do not want to talk right now,” she muttered, looking away and turning to close the door. It was unlike Alina, to shut the door on someone she loved but for the first time ever she felt.. exhausted.

“Alina, please,” was all he said, voice a mere rasp.

Alina pulled the door open a smidge, although her heart wasn't fully into it.

“We need to talk,” he said, walking in, waiting for her to join him after she had locked the door.

Alina settled down on the tiny couch and Connor sat down right beside her, hips touching.

“If it's about today, Connor- I would rather not,” she said, politely. She just couldn't. She couldn't go through it again.

Connor's expression softened.

“I know. But I read your stress levels today, Alina. They were at a 100% when the man..”

Alina looked up at him. She didn't want to tear up again. Not in front of Connor. She wasn't weak, no. She couldn't be weak.

“I want to know what you're thinking,” Connor said, nudging her shoulder. He sounded so gentle, Alina almost gave in. Damn the electricity that surged through her whenever he spoke. Damn the synapses in her brain that sparked brightly at his touch.

“Why?”

Alina didn't want to sound ungrateful. She was glad that Connor was making an effort, but right now her rationality couldn't make sense out of anything.

“You are my friend, Alina. Friends care for each other. I feel.. I must too,” he said softly.

She didn't know what to say to that.

“I didn't want to fight the man today,” Connor said quietly, after a while. “But I felt… this need to protect you and-”

He glanced at her, faltering. “I apologise for my behavior. I seemed to have scared you.”

“It's okay, Connor,” she said, smiling weakly. Connor’s sudden outburst was the least of her worries right now.

“It’s not okay. But..that is not the only reason why I'm here,” he said, voice dropping an octave.

“I sensed utmost discomfort in you when the man was talking. While I understand the reason, I couldn't help but wonder.. why do you let it get to you, Alina?”

There was such genuineness in Connor’s voice, Alina didn't have the heart to be mad at him.

“It's... strange, Connor. I cannot explain the origin of these insecurities, they have no rational explanation. But, perhaps, they exist because they are irrational,” she gulped. She knew that she was not really making sense but then again, what did?

Connor was gazing at her intently, head tilted ever so slightly as he tried to understand her.

He inched closer suddenly, turning to face her. He lifted one arm gently, as the skin on his hand faded to reveal the bare plastic beneath.

“If you can't tell me.. show me.”

“Connor I-”, she began but he cut her off.

“Please.”

Who could say no to those eyes? She held his stare as she lifted her own hand. Her hand stopped before his, as she looked at him hesitantly.

Connor let his fingertips brush against hers and Alina could swear electricity crackled between them.

Connor shut his eyes as he scanned through her memory.

This was huge. Alina was letting herself be completely vulnerable with Connor and yet… she didn't feel afraid. Not in the least.

She could feel - if that was the right word- his presence within her, an experience that was so liberating, Alina was almost overcome with all the new emotions that spilled in her.

Seconds later, Connor pulled away, hand dropping to his knee. He stayed awfully quiet for a moment.  

“Alina,” he spoke gently then, and she glanced at him fleetingly. What was he going to say? He probably knew how much she hated herself. Would he hate what he had seen too?

“I may not be able to fully understand the emotions that you feel but I know,” he paused, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear, “- that you are beautiful.”

Alina couldn't bring herself to look at him. How could she? He was being so kind and yet.. Alina didn't know if she should believe him.

“You may not be like other androids, but it's what makes you, you. You're different, Alina,” he said, lacing his hand through hers.

Alina almost jerked at his touch.

“You're so different and so intriguing,” he said softly. Alina glanced up at him at that. There was something different in the way he was looking at her and Alina felt her thirium pump… flutter. Connor was acting so strange, it confused her.

“Connor what-” she began, but faltered again. She was suddenly incapable of forming sentences. The intensity with which Connor was looking at her wasn't helping either.

“You like roses, am I correct?”

Alina nodded.

“But you also like sunflowers. Why?” he asked, ever so gently. His voice was a soft rasp and Alina would have listened to him speak all day.

“They're both beautiful flowers,” she answered, without hesitation. Now she was genuinely curious. Where was he going with this?

He stayed quiet for a moment, staring into her eyes. She wanted to look away but it was impossible to.

“Then why do you aspire to be a rose when you're a sunflower?” he asked, tilting his head.

Her heart actually missed a beat and a bunch of random errors popped in her brain at his words.

He had called her beautiful and compared her to a sunflower. She had only seen this happen in the movies that the humans made.

“Connor, I-I don't know what to say,” she said quietly, voicing her thoughts. She understood very well what Connor was getting at but it still troubled her greatly. He found her beautiful? Alina?

“You don't have to. I just want you to know, that just because you're different, it doesn't make you any lesser than anyone in this world. You're fairly attractive, you have beautiful eyes and-” he stopped, noticing Alina’s wide eyes.

“I overstepped, didn't I?” Connor said, grimacing and let go of her hand.

Alina regretted it instantly. Had Connor just confessed to her that he found her attractive?

The insecure part of her was screaming “No” and all sorts of ugly things but for once, Alina turned her focus to Connor and Connor only. What the hell was happening?

“Connor d-do you.. feel the same for me... as I do for you?” she asked, hesitant. There was a slight tremor in her voice as if she couldn’t believe her ears. Her Connor? Liked her as well?

Connor looked up at her through his lashes, eyes questioning.

“Every time I'm with you, I feel this surge of energy in my system, these metaphorical sparks at my fingertips- a whirlwind of something in-explainable,” she said so quietly, she wondered if she had said it aloud at all.

And then Connor's voice rang loud and clear inside her head.

“I feel all of that and so much more, Alina.”

Connor didn't spare her a single moment to process his words, before his lips were crashing against hers, frantic and fiery.

Alina knew what kissing was like, her database told her more than she wanted to know about it and yet it felt so strange.

It made her feel like she was floating, the dopamine-a2 and seratonin-a2 in her reaching unprecedented levels. Connor had one hand gently cupping her cheek, and the other clasped around her own, skin once again deactivated. She was completely vulnerable to him once more and there was so much of Connor around her and within her, she thought she was going to combust.

There could not have been a more tender moment between them.

They sat pressed against each other for a while, as the world fell around them.

“Don't ever, let anyone tell you that you aren't beautiful. You are so so beautiful to me,” Connor spoke in her mind, as he continued to nibble at her lips. Alina lost herself in the feel of him against her. 

“I admire you so much, Alina. You are so loving, so kind and so gentle,” he finally said aloud, when they had to break apart. 

Alina gazed up at him through dewy-eyes. 

The way Connor was looking at her right now, the way he had her hand pressed against his chest, made Alina feel as if she really was the most beautiful thing to ever exist.

If Connor could love her as she was, couldn’t she too? All the patients she had worked with ever, flashed in her mind through her boxed memories of them. They had loved her so much. They hadn't cared how much she had weighed. They had told her that when she smiled, she lit up the world.

The universe had it's mix of people. Some didn't agree with her and some did. Some loved her and some didn't. Everyone she had ever met was different than the last.

Your heart is what makes you several times more beautiful, Connor had said. 

There was a lot about the universe Alina had to learn, a lot more she had to discover.

But first, she was going to learn how to love herself for who she was.

a/n: Please, please leave feedback it would mean a lot to me!

#dbh imagne #dbh connor x oc #dbh connor x reader #dbh connor #dbh connor read insert #dbh connor rk800 #rk800 x oc #deviant!connor #dbh connor fluff #dbh connor x plus sized! reader #dbh commissions #bryan dechart

[aenigmaticdays]

Coda

Summary: The mythic invincibility of Fitzsimmons is just that: a myth. Fitz and Jemma learn the most painful way that even the foundation of a once rock-solid friendship that everyone once thought can weather any the test has its own cracks.

Notes: This fic is based on a very unpopular opinion that I have of how the writers tackled Fitzsimmons in S3, particularly during the Maveth-related episodes and the insertion of Will Daniels. I came to realise that 'Coda' was a story I wanted to read, but more than that; it was a story I wanted to write, so I did.

(Well kids, I think communication is important.)

On AO3, and FF.net

Who would have known that the previously-believed unbreakable bonds of a decade-old friendship wouldn’t have withstood the perfect maelstrom of time, the odd chance and more than a few debilitating circumstances?

Lost in this particularly boat-shaking revelation, Fitz starts mentally taking stock.

That much he is sure about: the confidence he has in his abilities and his understanding of science (and some newfound knowledge on astronomy) to bring Will back from that godforsaken planet.

So sure, that he leaves a hastily-written letter at Coulson’s desk before joining everyone else in the lab for the final but delicate stage of the operation.

The insistence whines of the machines take precedence over his morose thoughts. Fitz parks himself at a computer terminal in a corner of the lab, with an eye on the door and an eye on the screen scrolling data that would revolutionise NASA.

After all, he’d crossed the universe for her, and quite possibly bent and twisted several theoretical laws of physics in the process and is alive and well to talk about it should he wish to. But what could have ordinarily been considered one of the few miracles of his career—the leaps and bounds he’s single-handedly made in pushing through to achieve the impossible—has instead shattered his entire world.

The scene in front is hard to take in.

Fitz averts his eyes and stares instead at his dusty shoes as Jemma lavishes sobbing kisses on a ragged and dazed Will, taking small comfort in knowing that his last deed for her is one that will at least, guarantee her happiness.

Locked in a tight embrace, at this very moment, Will and Jemma form a grotesque parody of a medieval triptych that he’d taken in as a wide-eyed boy so long ago in the National Gallery: a woman who weeps over a fallen man, the folds of her skirt draped carefully over him. The pose is intimately timeless, a perfect framing of devotion between two people so intense that every other subject fades into obscurity in the background.

Fitz has never felt more like the outsider. To keep on looking would be intrusively profane in this sacred moment that relegates him to the role of the dispassionate observer. To insert himself into this would render its perfect symmetry askew and disrupt the harmony of its composition.

He uses that frozen moment as additional validation that his place isn’t here any longer.

Close on the heels of relief in knowing that he’d brought Will back are the tiny pinpricks of resentment, anger and throbbing pain that he’d managed to shoved into a deep, dark box the very moment that Jemma had made it clear where she stood.

Fitz raises his head and forces himself to watch as Simmons reluctantly disentangles herself from Will, her movements awkward and anxious as she moves to prep him for a period in isolation.

Coulson approaches slowly in his peripheral vision, tilting his head sideways at the flurry of activity in front of them.

“I think they won’t miss us just yet. Come to my office.”

Fitz slips from the room numbly. The blankness occupying a huge part of his mind is welcome; he has no more words to give. Having kept a promise he’d made himself a while ago—that is, to do all he can to make Simmons happy—he’s nonetheless still floundering as the realisation dawns on him that this winding journey can end today.

His feet take him past the lab—a place which had once freed him to be in his element, then later became a refuge when Simmons was off to Hydra—and the common area (another place where the memories now weigh like a yoke on his neck) and finally to the office, his walk not unlike a prisoner making his way to the gallows.

Those memories of what he and Simmons had accomplished in the years together, both good and bad, flit past until they’re like intertwined catacombs, a haven in the hell he felt he’d just endured, or maybe like a hell that he needed to carve his refuge from.

His breaths automatically quicken, the sudden onslaught of emotions leaving his bad hand trembling more than usual.

Fitz moves two steps past Coulson’s doorway and tries to shake the panic free. With deliberate slowness, he tucks his hands into his pockets. He clenches his fists, then unclenches them, bunching the already-wrinkled fabric of his trousers.

The suffocating weight of claustrophobia that he’s kept at bay now tunnels his vision to the very spot on Coulson’s desk where the letter lies. Nestled haphazardly in the pile of paperwork on the director’s desk is the envelope that he’d left on top of everything else, which means that Coulson has probably read it.

His acceptance of it, however, is another issue altogether.

In fact, it’s surprising to see the letter in a sorry state, as though it’d been read, crumpled and tossed away, before it was reluctantly plucked from its grave and re-read.

Coulson’s appraising sigh echoes loud in the small space, signalling the reckoning that’s coming.

“I’m not going to mince words, Fitz. The last few months have been hard. On you, on all of us, but on you especially. Too much has happened and I know that you and Simmons haven’t been—”

Hearing this from Coulson himself…excruciating doesn’t even begin to cover this.

Interrupting what he thinks might be a speech—whether a bureaucratic or a heartfelt one—that would deter him from doing what’s necessary, Fitz raises a hand in an uncharacteristic plea for silence which catches Coulson off guard.

“Please, Sir.”

Fitz hates himself already for that weak response, for the plea dripping with a desperation that mirrors all the times he thinks he’s lost Jemma.

In any other circumstance, he would have marvelled at how he’d managed to turn the tide—as short as it is—and take control of a conversation that he doesn’t want to have with a man he’s always looked up to.

Because allowing Coulson to go on would be to allow the director’s blunt words to mercilessly chisel through the emotional fortress that he’d been building brick by brick every sleepless night he’d spent in his bunk since Jemma’s return from Maveth.

And alone in his bed, he can be honest with himself: flaky talk of the cosmos aside, reciprocity had always been at the heart of the problem, and the shy hope he’d constantly nurtured about Jemma actually wanting him for who he is? That had finally disintegrated into nothing more than the dust of Maveth just as he thought they were both getting over his difficult recovery and her absence.

An extraordinary combination of circumstances making up the perfect storm, has moved them past the realm of potential and into impossibility.

The ugliest of the confessions he’s painfully admitted to himself is one where he knows he’s always needed Jemma more than she needed him. And she’s always needed him as a friend, an academic equal and as an esteemed colleague.

But as a romantic partner, he’d be her consolation prize.

It’s a kind of proof that he’d never wanted to face, until the sharp reality of it is shoved deep in his guts.

The conclusion he reaches doesn’t come easy, but what finally pushes him forward is the timid and defeated acknowledgement that he simply needs to de-couple himself from the unbreakable idea of Fitzsimmons.

Hard, fast and cleanly.

Having functioned so long as half of a pair, the time has come to shed this unhealthy co-dependency that has him clinging to Jemma longer than he should be. Her undercover work with Hydra, the quickness with which she’d fallen in love and into the arms of another man, the difficulty she had in facing his quasi-confession of love at the bottom of the Atlantic…aren’t these events proof-positive really, that the way forward is one where he needs to stumble onwards and upwards and alone in the journey ahead?

Maybe years later, their paths might cross again and a professional relationship between them could be in the cards. And if time was really said to flatten some scars, this would all be but an unpleasant memory that’s lost its sting.

Coulson eyes the letter once again, leaving Fitz to wallow in discomfort for a few seconds of absolute silence.

He shifts slightly from foot to foot, stilling only when Coulson asks him very quietly if this is truly what he wants.

Cut this right now, is the sinuous whisper in his mind. Cut it now, cleanly and quickly, and you’ll be free.

All he needs now, is the courage to ask for it.

Taking a deep breath as he battles the roil of guilt and anger in his stomach, Fitz merely nods, curtly and decisively.

He’d dug Jemma—no, he would now only think of her as Simmons—out of rubble and dirt, but perhaps, it’s time to dig himself out of this special hell that no one else will pull him from.

Coulson’s reluctant acquiescence is the executioner’s blade that helps cleave Fitzsimmons in half.

oOo

His bags wait at the heavy doors of the base; he’d packed the last few things of his with a single-minded determination that his mother would be proud of the moment Coulson accepted his resignation letter.

It’s this last bit that has him testy and nervous, but his feet nonetheless take him to the medical bay where Simmons still bustles around a sedated Will.

Leaning against the doorway, Fitz watches her for a minute, taking in the utmost care she gives to the people around her. How often had she done that for him as well, while he’d merely repaid her by being an emotional burden that she shouldn’t have to carry in more ways than one?

Simmons catches sight of him when he finally takes a tentative step in, her smile wide and a little wobbly.

“Fitz! Oh good, you’re here. I wanted to—”

She trails off, as though sensing the struggle in him, the curve of her lips turning downwards into a confused frown.

Best to get this done fast, he tells himself.

Because, despite what he’d seen of her videos and what she’d imagined of them in a planet that brought out the basest of instincts and wants that aren’t really there, she’d still chosen Will. In the moments where she’d thought he wasn’t looking, the distant stare that he’d mistook for fatigue is one that he now knows had been for another man who was stuck a universe away.

And unless he considers Simmons utterly lost to him, he knows that every last shred of hope he harbours for the both of them would merely keep him coming back for scraps even as a small part of him resolutely insists that he is in fact, deserving of more than that.

Finally, the words spill out of their own accord, the finality of this conversation akin to a swinging sledgehammer in his chest.

“I’m here to say goodbye, Simmons.”

Fitz glances once more at the sleeping man on the bed and then shifts his gaze to the familiar, beloved face that he’d grown up with for a decade.

The rush of grief and regret bursts from its dam when he sees the dawning look of wretched understanding in her eyes, to the point where it almost has him marching back into Coulson’s office to tear up that letter and rescind his resignation.

But his eagerness to give Simmons what she needs wars with the only selfish decision he wants to make for himself and as much as he wants to be there for her in any capacity at all as she sorts herself out, he is of little use to her as a pillar of support when his own blind need for her would only cripple them both.

She throws her arms around him in a quick, tight hug that he misses already before the sobs start to come.

In a soft whisper, he tells her not to cry for him, then releases her, in all senses of the word.

She doesn’t offer platitudes or any offers to keep in touch, for which he is grateful. Juggling the hurt she must feel with his own …it’s an unbreakable cycle (she had to have known this, surely?) that could only be ruthlessly broken by one of them somehow.

Maybe it’s the last time he’ll ever see her, maybe not, and in the moment before he spins on his heel to walk out, he turns back partially for a last look at her. But it’s a stolen and mute glance as always, like one of the many he’d sneaked in over the last few months because he always feels as though he’s taking something from her without her express permission.

The approach of quiet footsteps stops him in his tracks when he nears the exit.

“Sorry to see you go, mate.”

Hunter swings a brotherly arm around him then hugs him tightly, the exuberance of the action in stark contrast to the quiet words of farewell, then tucks a slip of paper into his pocket.

Baffled, Fitz fishes the paper out curiously but finds that it’s nothing more than a name and a number, neither of which are familiar to him.

“Call the number when you’re ready. Edwin,” Hunter gestures cryptically at his near-illegible scrawl of that mysterious name, “will be expecting you.”

It’s all Hunter leaves him with before turning back and rounding the corner.

Fitz shoulders his bags and waits for the heavy door to open. His eyes are burning (it’s just a trick of the light, he’s sure of it) as he walks forward into the bright sunlight.

It takes every effort not to look back.

oOo

The journey back to Glasgow is brutal, but that’s because he takes the slow way with too many connections for his liking, eschewing Coulson’s offer to use the quinjet to cross the Atlantic.

With nothing but time on his hands and his meagre belongings sitting in the cargo hold of a commercial flight, Fitz only remembers traversing the distance with lingering pains in his tailbone and the occasional drink that he takes from the flight attendant.

When time is catalogued as an endless stream of memories, night can meld into day and into night again outside the plane’s window, he finds that even jet-lag is no match for the movie in his mind. There’s no transcendental epiphany as much as he wishes for it, but merely an emptiness and a longing that he knows he has to fight, this time, for himself.

He’s come too far now—there’re literally thousands of miles between him and Simmons—to look back.

That decision to leave S.H.I.E.L.D., in truth, had been made the day when he slowly realised she’d increasingly become a crutch for him but had been too deep in denial to say so. The growing distance between them had spoken volumes about their once-in-sync relationship, professional civility replacing the platonic familiarity they once had with each other.

Then the revelation of his feelings which apparently repulsed her so much that she’d gone off on assignment to Hydra (what was he to think, after all?), their tentative truce before the damn planet whisked her away, her admission of love for Will...it’s a cosmic hand dealing him odds he can’t overcome.

He knows that the cracks in this once invincible pairing had formed long ago. Only later can he painfully conclude that excising himself from her life is the only option for his sanity, because he doesn’t think he can bear being there (it’s just perfect timing, innit?) when Will Daniels gets back on his feet and starts building a life with Simmons.

It’s only when he raises his fist to knock on the door of a modest home in Glasgow that he realises the late hour he’s arrived. But just like the stalwart woman he remembers who’d brought him up single-handedly, she opens the door in her pyjamas sans robe, shock and delighted surprise on her face when she sees him.

For the third time in two days, he’s engulfed in a hug.

Clinging to her to as long as he can, he tries to give her a smile when she asks about Jemma, though he doesn’t say a word in reply to her rapid-fire questions.

In fact, just the mention of her now brings up the roiling emotions he’s promised himself to keep tightly locked down—Fitzsimmons is no longer a fixable thing, he’d made sure of it and well…fuckthis skewed crisis of conscience that he can’t get past.

After all, how does he tell his mother that long, complicated story that starts with him nearly giving up the ghost at the bottom of the Atlantic, then giving up on a complicated friendship—if one could even call it that still—that had uttered its dying breath even before he’d walked away?

This close to breaking point, Fitz just shakes his head and avoids the intensity of her stare. He simply tells his mum that he’s tired from all the travel.

That is enough to galvanise her into action. She literally pulls him inside and pushes him into the bathroom to clean up, then sets out to make a full Scottish breakfast for him in the middle of the night.

It’s morning somewhere else around the world, she tells him later after the first helping of tatties and buttered toast and bacon, and her returning, prodigal son gives her an excellent excuse to eat a huge meal at the wrong time.

Much later, tucked into his childhood bed, all scrubbed raw and unpacked, he tosses and turns, and stares unseeing, at the crack in the window that he’d accidentally made the day before he left for the Academy all those years ago, contemplating the journey that has him coming back full circle after far too many losses.

The tears only fall hours later, when there’s no one at home.

oOo

Apart from Simmons, Fitz learns to live with a terrifying vulnerability that he hasn’t felt in years. Having been sheltered by her constant presence and then twinned with her in so many ways for so long, going solo makes him wobble like a new-born foal struggling to find its feet.

After the cathartic breakdown a week ago, he feels just a little bit stronger to face the world, so he ventures out and around Glasgow, keenly feeling the cold Scottish air nipping at his cheeks and nose and reddening the tips of his ears.

So much has changed, yet so many things have stayed the same. He walks past the high street in somewhat of a daze, still fingering the slip of paper that he hadn’t bothered to remove from the pocket of his jacket. He revisits old haunts—these memories, from before the Academy, now take on faded, sepia tones—and tries to remember what that time had been like.

Never has Fitz imagined a life past S.H.I.E.L.D. and in these uncharted waters, it’s either sink or swim. The former is something he’d literally already experienced and has no wish to go through again.

So that leaves him with learning how to swim, just as he tries to put the memory of the last sacrificial breath of oxygen out of his mind and the ill-timed confession that went with it.

Slipping his phone out of his pocket, he dials the number written on the piece of paper.

oOo

People can say all they like about Hunter and his ilk but Fitz is nothing but thankful for the man’s outstretched hand of friendship and help in his darkest hour. The only caveat being, all bets are off when it comes to their favourite football teams.

Edwin (the man with no apparent last name), as it turns out, is an English owner of a large private security firm and apparently, Hunter has said enough to Edwin that he’d been willing to hire Fitz on the spot as a tech-and-weapons specialist, with just that single but lengthy phone call.

Edwin’s proposal is simple and tempting: he wants Fitz in his first team, convinced that the addition of a tech-and weapons specialist of Fitz’s calibre can only be an asset to his expanding business.

The job role after all, isn’t too dissimilar to what Fitz had been doing all along, though he would be expected to participate more in fieldwork this time around and not sit in a van or in a lab behind a screen to remotely toggle switches or calibrate his readings. The lifestyle can be a nomadic one at times, but with the firm’s permanent bases in London, the Middle-East and North America, he’s guaranteed downtime and the choice of several countries to be based in, if he chooses to.

He accepts the offer after the hour-long conversation, then returns to his mother’s house to pack his bags once again.

oOo

As spring breaks the harsh colours of winter, Fitz learns once again, what it means to be part of a team.

It’s different but not unpleasant. Less grounded in alien tech, more focused on immediate threats that don’t come from realms unknown.

The fieldwork training is hard, but whatever he’s taken from those short years with Coulson helps him along somewhat. Whatever foundation S.H.I.E.L.D. had given him, Edwin’s team now build ferociously on it.

Fitz still finds himself out of his depth—it’s knowledge of a different sort after all and acting on it with a calm head under fire is bloody difficult because he’s inclined to give into panic first—but instincts can be honed and sharpened and that’s exactly what his new team gives him.

The leader of the team is not the Cavalry, but he comfortably holds his own in hand-to-hand combat and it’s his patient training that returns some of Fitz’s confidence in his own physical abilities. He isn’t the strongest man around, but he discovers he’s quite a natural at taking shots and that the odd but precise task of packing his go-bag for every mission (one of the first things they teach him) soon becomes a routine that he can do in his sleep.

They also give him a small lab to work in and even if it isn’t the state-of-the-art kind of technology he’s used to, it’s space that he can call his own where no one bothers to disturb him unless it’s a reminder about deployment or down-time. Engineering improvements to their safety gear becomes his creative outlet and soon enough, the teams start squabbling among themselves to see who gets to use the enhanced tech first.

The camaraderie between the guys is solid and despite their intimidating sizes, they’d been nothing but welcoming to him, more so when he manages to save their collective arses (he’d just gotten his own arse singed in the process), first on a black-ops mission in Honduras and then later, during a covert operation where they’d been inserted into deep in the Kamchatka peninsula.

But maybe what Fitz likes about them best is how they don’t see the occasional shake of his bad hand and how they ignore the stutter that still emerges from time to time (they don’t say anything if they notice it anyway). With the ribbing and joking aside (being the new guy can still suck at times and the pranking doesn’t go away just because he’s come highly recommended), he learns that there is a life apart from S.H.I.E.L.D. and it isn’t a dark path as he’d previously imagined without Simmons at his side.

Edwin had merely introduced him as a former agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and that had been enough to stir some gossip amongst the more…curious ones. There are things Fitz knows that the guys are dying to ask him, but it’s not something he’s ready, or will ever be ready, to talk about.

His unnatural silence when they jokingly question him on girlfriends and the other missions he’d been on might show that while he’d walked past the light at the end of the tunnel, but his inability to say the words perpetually stuck in his throat is also a reminder of a dull, lingering ache that still throbs when he slides his own mental shielding up for a bit. The pattern of silence that he takes henceforth when it comes to anything remotely related to Simmons becomes as natural as breathing. Pain and other thorny emotions, rendered into muteness, had become his salvation.

But Fitz isn’t too daft as to think that it’s all sunshine and roses. Such moments are milestones in some ways, or at least, indicators that he has still not fully come to terms with the past few months yet, not when they still feel like a jagged knife in his gut.

Still, he meticulously builds layer upon layer of personal armour, strengthening the walls each time to keep out the thoughts of S.H.I.E.L.D. (and Simmons) that creep unwittingly into his mind.

He slowly gets used to having his own locker in the boys’ room with his name printed on it—the term ‘operative’ is so laughable when it’s applied to him—as well as the tactical clothing that he dons more often now than the shirts and ties that have been stowed and largely forgotten in the bottom of a drawer.

He learns of adrenaline highs and lows during and after missions and how to manage them.

Mostly, it’s found at the bottom of a beer bottle with the rest of the rowdy crew or in an intense lab session where he takes things apart and puts them back together again on his pristine workspace, and on a memorable occasion, in the bed of a young prodigy of a physics professor staying in town for a few nights for a conference.

Maybe it’s a rebound, maybe it’s not; he doesn’t quite know how to classify this thing between them that’s so not him. But he’d loved the past few days of laughter and easy conversations, along with the surprising amount of heat two people can generate when they’re genuinely into each other minus the baggage, the expectations and the heartache.

She looks nothing like Simmons yet speaks his kind of science language, and her own beauty stands on its own. But her exuberant nature is infectious—she tells him quite honestly that the general air of brooding he carries around, along with the delectable accent, are like catnip to some women (he laughs shyly at that)—and by the time she fondly kisses him goodbye at the end of their short time together, she’d inadvertently gifted him with some measure of understanding that maybe, just maybe, his brokenness is not unfixable, and that his world really hadn’t started and ended with Simmons.

Mostly, despite the gaping hole that’s still in his chest, she leaves him in awe of the passion she has for the life ahead of her, though it isn’t without some shock to discover how far he’d come since joining Coulson’s mobile unit.

He learns to disassemble and reassemble his weapons as quickly as the rest of the guys (timed competitions that he can’t resist help make this second nature to him), joins them sometimes in the gym (he develops a fondness for the punching bag in particular because it helps blank his mind) and slowly, starts accepting their invitations for after-work drinks.

He learns, for the first time, what bromance really means after seeing how the guys have each other’s backs, and that he’s actually grateful for this sort of masculine connections that had he’d sorely lacked for the first part of his life. Their don’t-ask-don’t-tell attitudes compel him to shed the last of the awkwardness that he has around them, though it takes more than a few drunken nights to achieve that.

He also learns to call London, Bahrain and Colorado home, where temporary but luxurious apartments house the teams on their downtime. Eventually, he thinks he might want London as his permanent base—it’s the closest to home where he’s just a few hours away from his mum should she need him around.

With the weeks marked by some periods of mad activity and sometimes, even longer periods of lull, the cool spring gradually transitions into the scorching heat of summer. Without really knowing when it happened, Fitz realises that he’d completely slipped into another kind of life—and down a very different path—that he couldn’t possibly have conceived of when he’d first stepped into the Academy.

The only connection with the past is the rare but treasured phone call from Hunter, who never fails to take some credit for this new life Fitz has made for himself. They steer clear of the sensitive topics because Hunter can be perceptive when he chooses to be and he always grits his teeth and swallows back the questions he wants to ask about the rest of the team and well, Simmons.

Or Simmons and Will Daniels.

The only time Hunter tangentially mentions her is when he slips in a side-complaint about her new engineering partner who has had more than a few difficulties filling the shoes he’d left behind.

But Hunter also never fails to make it clear that he is sorely missed.

Just like that, the dull ache returns with a vengeance.

#fanfic #Marvel: AOS #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d. #Fitzsimmons #fitz x simmons #fanfic au #Leo Fitz #Jemma Simmons

[heroineofcolor]

Namie Uchiha has all the stars lined up

It was late January when Sasuke Uchiha said the most dreaded words to her.

"Let's have another."

Tenten Uchiha was in the kitchen and prepared a snack for their son Sora Uchiha. Sora was now one year old and had been born on a rainy October day. Tenten would never forget the day her beautiful son screamed for the first time.

Sasuke was immediately smitten with their child and his eyes had been overflown with pride. Tenten had blushed and vowed to herself that she would give Sasuke the family he deserved.

So, that's why these words out of his mouth let her heart drop down and cold sweat break out. He stood right behind her with his arms loosely around her waist and their bodies touching. Sora played in the living room with one of his friends.

"Another vacation?" she asked without turning around. Shaking she grabbed the cucumber and started to cut it.

Sasuke laughed quiet into her shoulder and kissed her neck. "No. Another child."

"Oh right." How would she get out of this? "Sure. Another child." She sounded lame like she wasn't convinced at all. Her husband of three years took the knife and the vegetable out of her hands and turned her slowly around.

"Tenten?" he looked at her with a confused gaze. Tentens heart already hurt seeing his sad confusion.

"Yes?"

"Don't you want... I thought you wanted more children." He tried to see what she wanted without showing his emotions about this topic. But Tenten wouldn't have married Sasuke Uchiha if she couldn't read him like a book. The worry and hurt in his eyes were immediate and it hurt her too.

"I am sorry Sasuke. Of course, I want a brother or sister for Sora." She touched his cheek and pushed his black hair out of his face. "I was just surprised."

"Are you sure?" he questioned her still a bit unsure. She nodded and gave him a peck on the lips.

Inside of her head she had a mild panic attack because her libra son will not get an incompatible sign as a sibling!

"Sora, don't run!" Sasuke called out to his son. The young boy who looked just like his mother with his brown eyes and his brown hair didn't listen at all and ran gleefully to their front door. Sighing he grabbed the boy at the collar and carried him inside the house. It was time for Soras bath and nap.

"Tenten we are back!"

"Mamama! Mama!" The little boy ran into the living room and fell over one of his stuffed animals. Sasuke smirked and went upstairs to the master bedroom. He knew she wasn't in the first floor so she was probably in the shower. Her reaction this morning still had him insecure and in thoughts. Usually she always dreamed about many children and grandchildren so he expected her to react differently. Maybe happy or excited.

"Tenten?"

"I am here!"

She was in fact in their bedroom and … packing.

"Are you going on a mission?" He really hoped she would answer with yes because if she was leaving him he would literally die. Sora would be raised by Sakura and Naruto would be his only father figure. Good God his son would die too.

"Yes. The Hokage summoned me. Weird, huh? I will be back in two weeks."

It had been a while since Sasuke had felt the sweet feeling of pure relief and love. What was this woman doing to him? "It's been a while since you went on a long mission." He watched her carefully and observed her messy hair buns and her light blush on her face. She was packing in a hurry.

Tenten walked to a drawer which was sealed with a fuuin jutsu. Hurriedly she unsealed it and grabbed her scrolls. "I know. But I'll be back soon and then…" Her eyes raked over his body and her cheeks turned rosy. "… we can do that baby."

The Uchiha smirked and stalked towards her to give her a hot passionate kiss. Tenten moaned happily into the kiss and put her arm around his neck, kissing back with all her love.

"Mamamama! Mama!" Someone demanded her attention.

Sasuke broke the kiss and kissed her forehead slowly. "So, two weeks?"

"Two weeks."

Two and a half weeks later Tenten came back from her mission. She was beyond exhausted and dirty and tired. She hadn't meant to take longer but it had been impossible to avoid it since she had some… problems on her way home. Tired she walked the stairs up in her home and put her scrolls and bag as quietly as possible in the corner.

"I was worried." The sudden words in the darkness startled her and turned her blood cold for a second. One of her kunais appeared faster in her hand than she could react. Her husband caught her wrist before she could hurt him accidently.

"Damn, Sasuke…" she hissed and let the Kunai disappear quickly. "You know damn well how sensitive I am after a mission." As apology he kissed her cheek and looked her over for injuries. Her brown eyes were tired and exhausted, dark circles were visible. Her clothes were stained with blood, earth and grass stains. The hair buns she loved so much looked like they weren't remade since Konoha.

"Are you alright?"

Smiling she nodded and felt immediately bad for leaving him. Two weeks had been easy when she was alone back in the day but now she was a mother and a wife. Missing her family had hurt so much. "I am glad to be back.", she whispered and kissed Sasuke slowly. The Uchiha grabbed her hips firmly and pressed her body against his.

Tenten craved him and his touches so much. But she couldn't afford to get distracted. Getting pregnant in February wasn't ideal for her. She pushed him away and kissed him on the nose. "Let me go I have to shower."

.

As Tenten came back into the bedroom Sasuke was already in bed. Braiding her hair into one big braid she sat on the bed. "Sasuke. I have my period in two days."

In the following silence she finished her braid and covered herself with the blanket. Sasuke grabbed her and pulled her close to him. "Don't worry. I'll get the ice cream."

"Sora! Don't do that!" Stressed out Tenten took the family photo from his hands and the small boy in his arms. "You know that we don't climb the furniture!"

"Babababa…" Sora babbled and reached out to the door where Sasuke stood and smiled at them.

"You have a stubborn shinobi on your hands." He commented amused and relieved his wife from their son. Tenten put the picture back and positioned it nicely. "You don't say." She grumbled and watched her two men interact.

It broke her heart to do this but she still needed some time. It was now mid-February and her period was over. She was sure that Sasuke would want to try it tonight and secretly she wanted to but… conceiving now could get her a Scorpio child. She would love it nonetheless but she couldn't stomach the thought that her children could rival each other. All she wanted was harmony and quiet peace. And some weapons and adventurous missions with her husband.

With a deep inhale and a loud exhale, she straightened her back. "Sasuke."

His dark orbs met her soft brown eyes.

"There is a note for you from the Hokage."

"From Naruto?"

Yawning Naruto filled his instant ramen cup with hot water until the marked line. He closed the lid and drove his hands over his blond messy hair. Since the Jounin exams were coming up there was a bunch of paper work to take care of. The exams would be held in Kumogakure and the Raikage didn't do things easy for Naruto and Konoha.

A firm knock on the door let him look up. It was late in the night and Shikamaru already went home. "Come in."

The door opened slowly and Sasuke stepped into the office. "Ah Sasuke. How was the mission? It sure took you a while."

Sasuke rolled his eyes at this and reported the success of the mission calmly. He had been gone for three weeks and it could have been longer if he hadn't worked and fought with all his strength.

Sasuke gave Naruto a scroll with the report. The Hokage nodded and thanked him grateful. "Thanks man. Didn't know you were up for these kinds of missions but you were a big help."

Sasuke frowned at that. "What do you mean 'you didn't know?' "

"Tenten told me that you were interested in a longer mission. I was surprised since you told me that you wanted to help Tenten for a while but I really needed someone good for this. So, thanks."

After Sasuke came back from that three-week mission Tenten had been weak. Sasuke and her had had a good sex life – it was balanced and satisfying. But leading him along for six weeks drove herself crazy too. Sasuke didn't initiate anything sexual but his kisses got slower and his hands lingered more. His heated gaze got her confused and his temper was definitely worse.

Tenten shouldn't complain because she caught herself in a bad mood a few times too.

With sad eyes she watched Sora play in the front yard. The little boy ran after dragon flies like a real champion. Sora was adorable with his pale skin and quiet demeanor soon he would have a sibling to play with - just this sibling could never be a Capricorn. Now that the Scorpio chances were lowered she had to avoid a Sagittarius. Both signs might get along well with Sora but not as perfect as an Aquarius. If she would overcome the Capricorn chances too then…

Big cold hands raked around her waist and up her stomach. "Sasuke. What are you doing?" Tenten stood on the porch and had been deep in her calculations when Sasuke appeared. Apparently, he didn't mind their public presence since he kissed her neck and caressed her stomach. "I need you, Tenten."

"B-But… Sora…"

"Tenten. Please."

How could she refuse when she needed him just as much. When his kisses made her knees all gooey and his hands on her body seemed innocent but were already dangerous. "S-Sasuke…" He pressed her against his body and Tenten could feel how needy he really was. Cursing she took a good look around in search of a Genin. Sasuke was already undoing her buns – damn that animal.

Her eyes caught a familiar trio. "K-Konohamaru!"

Konohamaru and his friends were passing their house with a cat in tow. "Oh… look it's the weapon mistress." Whispered Moegi with wide eyes, Tenten would've felt honored and flustered if it weren't for her horny husband.

"Could you watch our son for 20 Minutes?"

"An hour." Sasuke demanded.

The three Genin blinked confused. "ehm… sure?"

"Thanks! Bye!"

The only thing that saved her in that week was Sora and her Kunoichi Seal. Her Kunoichi Seal was a fuuin jutsu made by a medic-nin. It was a protection from getting pregnant in case of rape. Since Tenten was an active kunoichi who went on missions she also had an active Kunoichi Seal. Therefore, in that week in which Sasuke used all her weaknesses and gave her mind-blowing sex as soon as Sora had a babysitter she stayed without a pregnancy.

"When will you go on missions again?" Sasuke inquired one morning after he woke her up with oral sex. Tenten groaned annoyed already exhausted when she had to think about missions.

"I think I'll stay for a while and do small things around Konoha. This two-week mission was harsh on me.", she mumbled against his chest.

"Then… Sakura could unseal the Kunoichi Seal, right?"

Tenten swallowed loudly. The chances for a Capricorn were still too high. Capricorn and Libra just didn't work together. "Hmm."

A day before her birthday Tenten left the hospital with shrewd eyes. It was two weeks ago since Sasuke first suggested to unseal her protection and he didn't shut up about it since then. For two damn weeks. Tenten almost punched him in the face yesterday because the first thing he said was: "I can get Sakura if you want to."

The only thing she wanted was to sucker punch him.

Well now Sakura unsealed her Kunoichi Seal and she was open for Sasuke and his sperm. Yay. Maybe her family wouldn't break apart. Maybe her children would kill each other and Sasuke would blame her. So many maybes.

Now even her birthday was coming up. Maybe Sasuke would give her celibacy as a gift. Just three more weeks.

Her birthday was perfect. They had spent the morning together as family with a big breakfast. Sora hadn't known what day it was but he was happy and excited nonetheless. Later they went for a nice walk in the woods with Sora. While Sora chased after beatles Tenten and Sasuke fought each other with fun and love. When it was time for lunch they went back and were surprised with all their friends in their home ready to eat together.

All the women were drinking coffee and chatting about politics in Suna while the men were on the porch and talking about missions and politics in Konoha. Neji provoked Sasuke as always while Lee and Gai-Sensei were gushing over Sora. Kakashi came late as always and congratulated Tenten kindly. He offered to take Sora till tomorrow for what Tenten got some knowing looks.

Rejecting the offer wasn't on the table so Tenten said yes and thanked him politely. Kakashi left with her boy and with him the small gathering in her home ended. About an hour later even their last guest Naruto had left the married couples to themselves.

Sasuke and Tenten sat on the swinging chair on their porch snuggled up against each other and just enjoying the presence of the other.

"Thank you, Sasuke."

"For what?"

"For today."

Scoffing the Uchiha eyed her carefully. "I didn't do anything."

Giggling she snuggled up even closer. "Sure."

.

.

Later that evening they lay in bed and were making out heavily. Sasuke touched her in all the right places making her moan and squirm. "Sa… Sasuke…."

"Tell me."

His lips kissed her jaw down to her neck until he reached her pulse point where he started to worry her skin with his teeth.

"Tell me why you don't want another child." He breathed against her skin and Tenten froze. Her arousal was gone just like that and panic was there instead.

Sasuke was above her and looked her in her eyes. "I am not stupid. Naruto told me that you suggested to send me on that mission and he also told me that you wanted to go on your mission. Sakura told me that you just recently approached her about the Kunoichi Seal. And you think I don't care but I do – that's why I know that you have a short period and yours isn't until 10 more days."

Surprised about all this Tenten blinked a few times and pushed him from her. She sat up on the bed and watched him with wide eyes. "Looks like Team 7 has still a strong friendship." She hadn't considered that Sakura and Naruto were tattletales.

"Yes. Looks like it." He watched her with shrewd eyes. "Spill."

Tenten knew that she could not get out of this situation. The truth must be revealed.

"It is the 9th march."

"You don't say."

Rolling her eyes at his sassiness she explained further. "You wanted a child in late January but Sora is a Libra and I couldn't be sure to get another Libra in late January so I decided to get an Aquarius. But I must overcome the chances for a Capricorn. So, we have to wait three more weeks. Two Libras could've been beyond perfect but impossible because you were late! So I wanted a good sibling for Sora that's why I want an Aquarius! But that cannot happen till April."

A deep frown and a big question mark were visible on Sasukes face. He didn't understand anything. Tentens interest in astrology weren't news to him but he didn't know that… "You are obsessed about this."

"Very funny."

"Let me get this right. Our son is a Libra. By chance." She nodded. "And you want to determine the sign of our next child because…"

"I want a perfect family for you. If I get pregnant now then we could have a Capricorn. I would love the child either way but I couldn't bear seeing my children fighting each other. Capricorn and Libra just don't work together. I want you to have a peaceful family. I vowed that to myself."

Sasuke smiled because her words warmed his heart. "When did you vowed that?"

"When you held Sora the first time. You were so happy and everything worked out so smoothly for us. I just want a happy completely functional family." With lowered gaze she started to play with the corner of the blanket.

Sasuke watched her with an almost dreamy gaze. Here he thought that she reconsidered her life with him and wanted to distance herself from him. He thought he'd lose her and that she didn't love him anymore. But the opposite was the truth, she loved him so much that she tried to build a perfect family for him. With questionable methods.

"You know I don't care about these things Tenten and I don't have a problem with rivalry among my children."

Hesitating she looked up and down again. "I care though." She was pouting and looked like a child with her two buns and her teary eyes.

A laugh tried to escape Sasuke but he knew if he laughed know he would be nailed to the wall. And not in the good way.

"Alright." He stated grinning and hugged her tightly. With a surprised squeak she fell into his arms and then their heads into their pillows.

"What sign is your goal? Aquaman?"

"Aquarius." She chided and pinched him in the side. Sasuke laughed quietly but got ahold of himself. "Alright. Then when are we trying?"

"In late April." She mumbled into the silence. They just cuddled and enjoyed the warmth of the other until Tenten added smugly. "I bet you regret that missing Kunoichi Seal now, huh?"

It was mid- January and Tenten started to hate that month. It was the month of bad news. Sasuke got her pregnant in mid-April or something Sakura had said. Now she was highly pregnant and extremely annoyed. "What do you mean these are contractions?!" she screeched. Sakura looked to Sasuke and then back to his wife.

"Yeah. You are early but that's fine. I can handle this and your child will be alright."

Sasuke put all his effort in to suppress his laughter. He tried really hard and failed.

.

.

.

.

Namie Uchiha weight 3892 grams and was 53 cm small. She was a spontaneous birth and it only took her three hours to be born.

Namie Uchiha was born on the 19th of January at 10:32 pm. A wonderful Capricorn.

#sasuten #tenten #tenten love #tenten appreciation #tenten appreciation month #sasuke uchiha #naruto crackship #tenten crackship #sasuke x tenten #tenten x sasuke #tensuke