#there's so many thoughts running through my head i can't wrangle them

[pywackett-barchetta]

Commit to the Bit

A winter evening.

A dear friend of mine has wrangled me into an online roleplay community. In this weekly, sessions are held live in a chat client, with each of us playing our characters through our clients. My character in this particular series is Taro, and this game, as many do, has a rule on sleep; you must have your character rest for five in-game hours (it's typically about 5 minutes per hour in real time).

However, the GMs did not insist that the sleep has to be in one's own bed, and as Taro entered the high-level suite of a corporate executive, I decided to play with this.

Taro Bladehardt (Pywackett) — 01/15/2023 5:42 PM …can I sleep in the Penthouse Bedroom Excalibur — 01/15/2023 5:42 PM Nobody's told you no…

See, the aforementioned friend was, notably, at my house. They were in another roleplay earlier in the week and asked to borrow my computer for that; in turn, I was okay with playing a session while they were over. I did also offer to get them dinner; there's a place near here that has absolutely excellent burgers.

So, this is a good chance to go get those.

Or so I thought. There are a few problems here with this plan. I've already placed the order and already had my character go to bed, so we are committed to this.

But now, it is snowing. Alright. This can't be the quick run I hoped. But I promised I would go do this, so I will. I ask my friend to watch the keyboard for me; one of the GMs decided to sneak my character in this time, as well.

Sneaking is a feature of this client that masks your presence in the area; if somebody types a command that shows them who's around, it won't show anybody that's sneaking. The logic was my character was snug under the covers.

But I know them. They know me. There's better logic at play. There's comedy. Because I did not lock the suite. So when the rest of the players come in looking around for plot, they will instead have fun fun Taro jumpscare.

I head out.

It is brutally, horribly cold. The freezing air batters my lungs. I head to the restaurant; they misheard my card information over the phone, so we just have to wait to reprocess it.

18:10:24$H: Levi Koi has entered from the Penthouse Reception. 18:10:27$H: Diana Eostre has entered from the Penthouse Reception. 18:10:29$H: Ryoko Otonashi has entered from the Penthouse Reception. 18:10:29$H: Takeru Matsuda [w/Katana] has entered from the Penthouse Reception.

My phone immediately dings.

CountNeko — 01/15/2023 6:11 PM Bunch of people just came in here I am obligated to inform

Shit.

CountNeko — 01/15/2023 6:12 PM Would you like to relay an action or you getting back soon

No, I've got this. I'll be right back.

I wait.

[18:10:43]Levi Koi: [They're in a person's bedroom.] [18:10:48]Takeru Matsuda [w/Katana]: [Enters.] At least this room is somewhat more modest… [18:11:06]Ryoko Otonashi: Oh. [Upon entering the room she goes to…] [18:11:09]Diana Eostre: A woman's room too, huh? Hooooo… [18:11:12]Ryoko Otonashi: [The dresses] [18:11:29]Takeru Matsuda [w/Katana]: Tch- It's a simulation! Let's not think of it like that! [18:11:32]Diana Eostre: …Nothing that would fit me.

I wait.

I wai- the burgers arrive. I thank them briskly, tip, and run.

And this is where I realize I've maybe not had the best thought process in the world,

[18:13:43]Takeru Matsuda [w/Katana]: Ah, I see this is one of those… What were they called? Decktops? [18:13:57]Levi Koi: Desktops. [He corrects bluntly.] [18:14:06]Levi Koi: Now let's see here… [18:14:20]Levi Koi: …Familiar formatting. [18:14:24]Ryoko Otonashi: [She takes an opulent red dress from the rack, then walks over to the boys and their computer]

as I run full speed, through a snowstorm that is picking up, my lungs burning, my legs screaming, my hands roasting with the hot foods secured only by styrofoam between them,

[18:14:47]Takeru Matsuda [w/Katana]: Right, right. So you know how to use it? I for one have never touched one before. [18:14:59]Levi Koi: …One of the names from the meeting room is here. [18:15:06]Ryoko Otonashi: Anything interesting? [She peeks over to look]

and my best friend watches me throw the door open, stumble in with a gasp, throw my shoes off, shout "BURGERS," throw those onto the kitchen table, and race into my room with my face a frozen beet-red, just to slam my hands down on the keyboard,

[18:18:28]Bed: [The bed stirs and rattles.] 18:18:28 $H: You are no longer sneaking. [18:18:35]Takeru Matsuda [w/Katana]: . . . [Takeru's eyes narrow once he finishes reading-] [18:18:39]Diana Eostre: Huh… [She continues looking at the computer.] [18:18:42]Ryoko Otonashi: …Huh? [18:18:43]Taro w/ Guitar Bag: Huh? Oh. Mornin'. [18:18:49]Ryoko Otonashi: Wha- [18:18:52]Taro w/ Guitar Bag: Huh. Busy in here. [18:18:53]Diana Eostre: … [18:19:05]Takeru Matsuda [w/Katana]: T-Taro! [His head does a complete whiplash towards him.] [18:19:08]Ryoko Otonashi: Has he been here the whole time? [18:19:12]Levi Koi: The fuck-?! [He spins around in the chair to see Taro.]

No moral of the story on this one, unless you count "hey, don't do this" as a moral. Burger was pretty good

[midnxghtsunwrites]

GROUNDED

PAIRING —

william miller x black reader

SUMMARY —

You and Will have been through too much for you to abandon him at his darkest hour.

WARNINGS —

angst, fluff

"Baby, I'm sorry." Your voice was quiet as you rubbed the back of William's hand. His skin is rough and scarred against the pad of your thumb — a symbol of the hardships he's endured both during his service and after.

You'd stuck by his side all those years ago when he was in the brigade commandeered by Tom "Redfly" Davis. They were close — damn, you were all close. You were practically Tess's aunt, showing up at every birthday party and barbecue before Tom's divorce made way.

The years you've been with Will gave you clarity — into his struggle with PTSD and the emotional impact serving as a Special Force Operative had on him. He even taught you a thing or two, defense-wise, before he was caught in a situation in your local Publix — his arm wrapped around another man's throat because he hadn't moved his cart. That lead you to jump on his back and wrangle him back to reality.

He's a soldier in every sense of the word.

He'd gotten better after that incident — attending therapy sessions and doing more public speaking at military bases. It was better to keep his mind off of the terror and trauma from his years of fighting in a war.

He was doing better. And then Santiago just had to come along and convince him to join him for one last ride. Of course, you couldn't do much but support him — that's all he ever asked for. Your love and support. And you were hesitant to give it to him.

But, you did.

And he left for two weeks and returned with a bullet wound — another scar added to his shelf of souvenirs — and a dead captain.

The first night he came back was spent on the beachfront of your home, unable to hide the tears any longer. That night, he slept with his head over your heart, almost as if to make sure it was still beating.

You gave him his space for three days — to get his bearings and a handle on life.

You weren't surprised when he gathered you up one day and drove you to your spot. It was where you had your first date however many years ago — he'd paid for the meal and was a proper gentleman. Of course, you just had to give him your number and hope for the best. Immediately, you knew he was drawn back.

He'd just finished his first tour and the trauma was as strong as it was present — you didn't expect to get a call back after he dropped you home. You were at work when he did, though.

From then on, you and Will had been connected in a way no one really understood. But, it wasn't for them to understand. It's like a well-kept secret between two lovers.

Will's eyes are trained on your dainty fingers as you trace jagged waves along his tainted skin. Your touch could calm a storm, he always tells you. His back presses against the wall of the restaurant, a tattooed arm resting atop the back of his seat, and his other arm stretched across the cold metal table towards you.

Your fingers run up the inside of his wrist and trails the ink in his skin. It's his Force tattoo, faded against his fair skin from years of wearing it as a badge of honor. This isn't his only tattoo.

Just on his other arm is a tribute to a fallen soldier from his first tour. They were the closest friends each other had before Benny decided to join the army as well. It was by a miracle that he was put into the same regiment as his brother.

It didn't seem like much of a miracle when William's friend was blown to pieces on the field.

William lazily tips the neck of his beer bottle to his mouth as he shifts his gaze to the crease between your eyebrows — one that only appears when you're concentrated.

You're so taken with his marred skin littered with healed wounds that you jump slightly when he lifts his hand to take a hold of your own, removing your fingers from his forearm.

He raises your connected fingers and presses it to his lips. Your lips form a pout when you see the tears gathering in his eyes. As he draws your hand away, his gaze transfers to the bare ring finger on your left hand.

"I love you." He proclaims, as he rubs your ring metacarpal, "And I want to thank you for being patient with me. I know..." He sighs as he tries to find the right words to say. Finally, "I know it hasn't been easy being with someone so broken."

You want to stop him. You want to tell him that relationships aren't always easy. You want to tell him that he's not broken, just in pain. You want to tell him that you love him too. So much that it hurts.

But you don't. You wait for him to express his feelings. As long as you have to.

"You've been there for me, Y/N — even when no one else has. You've been helping me for so long that I feel..." He can't continue, instead choosing to look down at your connected hands.

Your finger rubs against his as you realize this, "It's okay, Will. You know you can talk to me."

Your words give him that gentle push — "I feel like I'm keeping you from your life, Y/N. You've had to deal with my trauma and I've been ignoring you and your feelings. I don't want to do that to you, baby. Not anymore. I wanna take care of you instead of it being the other way around."

Y/C/E meet blue as you lean back in interest. Your boyfriend couldn't be more wrong about how he thinks you feel. He's held you back from nothing — when you asked him to move to a new neighborhood, he packed up your bags and boxes and loaded the moving truck; when you asked him to stick by you when you went back to school, he helped you study and ace all off your exams to receive your degree; when you asked him to be there for you, he was. And you know he always will be.

With this in mind, you slide out of your side of the booth, your hand still intertwined with his. He watches you, carefully as you step off the platform on your side before stepping up on his. His legs are stretched along the seat, prompting you to plop yourself right down on his lap. His beautiful blue eyes stare up at you.

Instinctively, he plants his beer on the table and snakes his arms around your waist, keeping you in place. You can feel the bulge of his crotch on the right side of your thigh but restrain yourself — now isn't the time.

"You see that?" Your right hand presses against his chest while your left hand finds its place on his strong arm, right above his military tattoo. You refer to his instinct to hold you. "That is you taking care of me. That is you loving me more than I deserve. Baby," You search his eyes, his pupils dilating as he's overtaken with love, "You're my life. Don't think you've been ignoring me, Will. We just had to reduce that pain you've been living with. Because I'm not happy if you're not happy."

Reaching an arm around, you take his hand into yours and pulls it from your waist. His hand falls limp as he watches you draw him towards you. You rest the palm of his hand on your chest, right above your beating heart.

At the feeling of the organ beating against your chest, Will is brought back to earth. You keep him grounded and that's all he could ever ask of you.

"This is yours, Will. You own it. We've been through too much for you not to."

As you watch the thoughts swirl behind his expressive eyes, you're confused when he pulls his hand away from you. He reaches into his jeans pocket and emerges with a clasped fist. Hovering over the table palm down, he opens his hand and brings your attention to the rose gold ring — a significant contrast from the wooden surface it rests on.

Your breath catches in your throat and your heart is pounding against your ribcage.

He looks at it for a moment before tilting his head towards you, "Marry me."

"Will..."

"It’s been a long time coming, Y/N. We've been together for eight years — which I'm sure is seven years longer than what you wanted.”

He loves you, ardently, and now he finds the strength he was searching desperately for just the other day. "I love you, Y/N Y/L/N. With every fragmented piece of me that you've managed to put back together. And I'm forever grateful that you came into my life when I least expected you, but most needed you."

Now it's your turn for your heart to melt — you're growing weak at his words, eyes filling slowly with tears.

His eyes remain on you as you crane your neck to ogle the engagement band on the table. The center is oval shaped and sparkling under the dim lighting of the restaurant. It's beautiful, perfect even — more than you could've asked for.

He is more than you could've asked for.

"I'm done with this shit, babe." Will says as he sees an indecipherable look in your eye. Overthinking leads him to believe that you have doubts about his minimalistic proposal, "I'm completely retired. It's just us — no Pope, no Fish, no Benny, no —" He stops himself before he can say the name.

It's too soon.

The silence between you two is deafening as you're frozen in your spot.

All you can seem to release is his name — it's the only word on your tongue. The only sound you could muster.

He brushes a kinky curl from your forehead and stares up at you, awaiting an answer. Everything in you tells you to speak. To do something — anything.

It's only when Will's grip loosens around your waist that you're snapped back into reality. You'd only dreamed for this moment and now that it's here, your brain seemed to be malfunctioning. Instead of opening your mouth, you reach forward and with your index finger and thumb, you lift the beautiful ring from the table.

"Yes." The word is so quiet that you didn't even realize you said it. Speak up. "Yes, I'll marry you, Will. Christ, you didn't even have to ask."

This has to be the first time he's smiled since he came home. It's bright and amazing and nostalgic. White teeth wink at you as he wastes no time taking the ring from your fingers and sliding it on your digit, his eyes seeming to reflect the sparkle of the engagement band.

The kiss you two share is nothing grandiose. Your kisses rarely are — but they still hold a level of sensuality and passion that many can just wish for. Will runs his tongue along your bottom lip before capturing it in his warm beer-flavored mouth. You don't mind — he has good taste in alcohol.

For a moment, you two forget that you're in a public space. One where patrons are making their exit, but public nonetheless. You pull away when you feel the tears gather in your eyes. You love this man with your heart, mind, and soul — every part of you is overwhelmed with a wave of fervent endearment.

"Damn, I love you." Will exhales as he draws you into a homely embrace.

general taglist : @gwenspacy @dollyhoess @complacentviawattpad @rosenoirwrites @random-ficreader23 @kyla-queen

let me know if you'd like to join my general taglist! feel free to like, reblog, and comment! also, my asks are open — and im taking requests!

[the-obiwan-for-me]

firstly, congrats on finishing She Said the Word!!! I've enjoyed it from start to finish and I've been reading it since almost the very beginning so it's been super fun to see it come to an end!!! Would you ever consider writing that "emotional" obi-wan and satine reunion after their respective stints in jail?? I can't find it at the moment but I feel like I remember you writing something about that??? :eyes emoji: anyway!! just thought I'd ask :)) hope you have a great day!!!

Thank you for this inspiration! And sorry it took a bit of time. I definitely had wanted to include this scene in the story itself, but sometimes you have to leave stuff out for the sake of pacing and mood. So, essentially, it’s a “deleted scene” (even if I wrote it after the fact).

If anyone else wants to offer up a prompt, either from this AU or one more aligning with canon, just send it my way! I will admit, I am not always fabulous with prompts, but if I think I can wrangle it, I will.

This contains spoilers up through chapter 65, Aftermath, of “She Said the Word,” so I will put the story below the break. Hope you enjoy!

Home

Any other time, it would seem like a fairly normal visit, Satine thought as she was bustled through the Senate building, surrounded by Coruscanti Guard. But this time the guards weren’t protecting her; they were guarding her, like some criminal mastermind or fearsome warlord.

In a strange way, Satine thought wryly to herself, she supposed she was some sort of warlord now.

 Beside Satine rushed her longtime aide, Kayla, who had finally bullied her way onto a transport from Mandalore, bringing with her endless apologies on Lily getting away from her, clothes appropriate for the family to wear in the Senate, and news from home, which she now hurriedly half whispered to Satine in an odd mix of Mando'a dialects in case of eavesdroppers. The petite woman had more than made up for Lily's escape, though Satine hardly blamed her for the girl's delinquency. Somehow, through sheer force of determination and grit, Kayla had kept the government from imploding or following its duchess and Mand'alor into a foolhardy rescue attempt. 

The troopers stopped at a door, and Satine had to reach out and grab Kayla's arm to keep her from running straight into the trooper, distracted as she was as she shared nearly two weeks' worth of news and relayed, from memory, messages from clan leaders and house heads. 

The door slid open, and troopers moved to allow Satine to pass. Kayla went to follow, but was stopped. "Prisoners only."

Kayla pushed against the soldier. "But I need to speak with the Duchess. I have more news to-" 

"Prisoners only," he said again, stepping more solidly in her path. She looked up at Satine, who had stopped beside her.

"Your grace…"

"It will be alright, Kayla. You have done good work thus far, and I have no doubt you will continue to do so." She squeezed the woman's hand when she saw her eyes well with tears. "K'oyacyi, my dear friend. Mandalore will persevere. We will persevere."

Kayla pressed her lips together, clearly willing herself from letting her tears fall. She squeezed Satine's hand then bowed her head. "Yes, your grace. Oya manda," she whispered, then stepped back, letting the party cross the threshold into the room beyond.

Satine crossed through the antechamber of the conference room turned holding cell and stopped short in the archway, relief sweeping over her at the sight in front of her. Korkie and Ahsoka sat in a corner, heads close together, speaking in hushed tones, while Anakin stood near the floor to ceiling window, speaking with Fenn Rau, Greer Eldar, and Ursa Wren. At the expansive table sat Obi-Wan, methodically fixing tea for he and Lily, who sat beside him, watching him work.

At some point in her relationship with Qui-Gon Jinn, probably on one of her many heartsick nights, her mind clouded and stormy with grief and uncertainty, he had set about making them all tea, in his quiet, methodical way. He offhandedly mentioned that making tea could almost be a form of meditation. She knew Obi-Wan often thought about that, as did she. She wondered, as their daughter watched him carefully, if he had told her the same thing, to ease her fragile heart and still her frantic mind.

Satine watched them all quietly for a long moment, everyone too caught up in their own worries to notice her. That was fine. She wanted to take them all in for a heartbeat; her beautiful, strong children and her kind, brave husband. She just needed that beat to drink them in before the world crashed back down around her and she had to remember they were criminals in the mind of the Republic.

The moment paused for her, just enough, and then ended when Obi-Wan happened to glance up and caught sight of her standing there. His face passed from quiet contemplation to delighted surprise to joyous relief, and he leapt from his seat, bounding across the distance between them, and swept her into his arms. For the first time in over ten days, Satine felt like she was home. Though they were hundreds of lightyears from their physical home, locked in a conference room, treated like war criminals and treacherous beasts, this man was the living embodiment of home.

“Stars, Satine,” he breathed into her hair, and she was caught by the silly thought that she was glad Kayla had been unable to fit her normal headdress within her tight packing guidelines. “Master Windu told me time and time again that you were alright, but I’m just so glad to see it for myself.”

His arms were warm and strong, and she wished for him never to let go. She buried her head into the crook of his neck more, breathing deep. His skin smelled of the same industrial soap she had used to shower in the detention center, but the tunic Kayla had seen to him getting still held traces of the subtle warm scent of his preferred cologne. He smelled like home. 

She tried to speak, but found that no words would come, only a quiet sob of relief and fear and uncertainty that she hadn’t known she had been holding for days. “You are alright, aren’t you?” he whispered into her ear when her body trembled against him with the silent sob.

She didn’t trust her voice, so she merely nodded against his shoulder. “Good,” he said again, tightening his hold on her, rocking her gently. In turn, she wrapped her arms about his neck, holding onto him as if he could float away at any moment. 

She wasn't sure how much time passed as they stood like that, gently swaying, but he stirred her back to the present when he finally spoke again. "Everything will work out, my love. Be brave. Yes?"

She nodded against him again. "Yes," she agreed, finally managing to find her voice. She allowed herself to pull loose of his embrace, and found Lily standing beside her. She pulled the girl into her arms, hugging her tight, kissing the top of her head. "Are you well, little warrior?" she asked. Lily nodded, sinking into Satine's embrace.

"I missed you," Lily said. 

"And I missed you. But now we're together again." 

"All of us."

Satine looked up to find the other three had come over. She opened her arms and they entered the circle of her arms, trapping Lily against her. She hugged them all as best she could, her little warrior, her kind little jetii girl, and her two big Mando'ade boys. It wasn't just Obi-Wan who was home. This was home. These children. Her husband. Their love. This was her safe harbor. Her rest. Her joy.

Obi-Wan approached, and she felt the soothing weight of his warm hand against her back. "We must all be brave, now," he said softly. "There will be those who will see us fall, but we must be strong against them. Trust in the Force, my darlings. We will see this through."

Someone cleared their throat behind them, and Satine reluctantly let her children go. She turned, hand reaching out for Obi-Wan's and finding it, to find Bail Organa waiting, Padme brushing past him to come to Anakin. 

"It is time, my friends," he said, his voice somber. 

"Thank you, Bail," Obi-Wan said, straightening his back, as if preparing for a battle. Satine supposed that this was just one more battle for them. He looped her hand in the crook of his elbow, and went to lead their family toward the door, when Lily stopped them. 

Reaching up, the girl pushed a loose pin back into Satine's hair, trapping a wayward curl back where it belonged. She smoothed her hand across Satine's hair.

"That's better. Now you're ready," Lily said quietly, smiling softly. Satine kissed the top of her girl's forehead, running her hand through her long hair, left loose and brushed smooth by Padme. 

"Thank you, verd'ika. Now I am ready for anything."

With that, she allowed Obi-Wan to lead her out, holding her head high, ready to fight for her home.

[lovingmyselfcore]

i can go anywhere i want just not home

A fic based on My Tears Ricochet!! Highly recommend listening to the song while reading. Very angsty, it's if something happened and Aelin was forced out of Terrasen and had to fake her death. So yeah. I'm working on my Illicit Affairs one so that should be soon? No promises

**Not beta-read or anything we die like men here and I think I'm allergic to editing after 8pm so I can't be blamed if it's really bad

“Do it,” She spat, staring up at him - at all of them. Rowan was the only one who met her eyes, he didn’t flinch away from her, he never flinched away from her. Until recently, at least. There was a sort of comfort in knowing that she was horrible enough that Rowan Whitethorn had finally flinched.

She felt that achingly familiar lick of flame, starting at the base of her spine slowly curling up, lighting the hollows in her spine and bones, in her soul.

Something must be smoldering in her eyes because Rowan shifted, almost imperceptibly. Only being his mate and carranam did she recognize it for what it was. He’d shifted enough to have placed himself between them. Between her, Chaol, and Dorian.

With a bitter laugh, she spat again, “It’s come to this? You’re protecting them from me!” Her voice got shrill.

“Fireheart,” Rowan started but she cut him off.

“No. No. Don’t. You. Dare. Call me that.” It took all her years of training in hiding herself, of becoming other people, that allowed her to keep her voice steady.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to curl up in her massive bed, half sprawled against the comforting warmth of her husband, with Fleetfoot resting in her lap and a good book in one hand, the delicious chocolate hazelnut cake an elderly woman in town had learned to make just for her in the other. She wanted to go home.

But home was a long way from here.

Dorian shoved forward, elbowing past Rowan, ignoring Chaol’s muttered warning, and stopped once he and Aelin were nose-to-nose.

“We didn’t want to do this.”

She just hummed, not backing away from him.

Those flames still curled, ready for her to wield.

“This is better than the alternative,” Chaol spoke up and she and Dorian both moved to look at him.

She arched a brow and schooled her face into that indifferent arrogance she knew made nearly everyone see red. “The alternative? What was the alternative to forcing me to flee my kingdom I have fought so hard to keep and fake my own death with only,” She jabbed a finger at each of them, “You three knowing the details of what happened.”

“The alternative was taking away the fake part,” Dorian said, cold water to match her own burning flame.

She started, and against her better judgment, looked at Rowan. “You were going to,” She swallowed and tried very hard to ignore the agony in his gorgeous eyes. “Kill me?”

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t think anybody voted for that.” Dorian offered.

“Voted?” Her voice went shrill again and she saw Rowan twitch. “You all voted on what to do with me?”

“You couldn’t stay in Terrasen anymore, not after what you did, so yes. We voted.”

“And you three are the lucky bastards who have to force me out.”

“Force is only needed if you decide to fight us, Aelin,” Chaol said.

She ignored how pointed the words were, how they angered those festering embers.

“So Lorcan didn’t volunteer? I was sure he’d be the first to want to force me out of my own home and fake my death.”

“Nobody volunteered, Aelin. Nobody wanted this to be the way it went.”

“Hmm, well it seems someone did. Since we’re here, and all.” Her voice dropped low and she was suddenly talking only to Rowan. “Was what I did so unforgivable that you don’t love me anymore?”

He couldn’t look at her, this man, who used to look at her like the stars were born in her eyes, now couldn’t look her in the face. “I’ll always love you, Fi-” He cleared his throat, “Aelin. Don’t ever think I stopped but-” He looked like words had become too hard and merely stared at whatever his eyes were fixed on, somewhere behind her left ear.

Chaol and Dorian were both looking anywhere but at the two of them.

Looking at him in the dying sunlight filtering through the web of branches formed from ancient oak trees, the way his eyes glittered, the hard lines of him all highlighted, and his hair ruffled from the autumn wind, her resolve broke. She took a step, then another, then she was running. He caught her, swept her up, and buried his face in the crook of her neck.

It was oddly reminiscent of a time long ago, in Adarlan. That, however, was a reunion. This was a goodbye.

Tears streaked down her face and he held her closer; as if trying to further commit all of her to memory. “I’m sorry, Rowan.” She whispered.

“I know. I am too.”

She pulled away first. He wiped her tears away with painstaking gentleness and kissed her forehead, “This may not be the end.” From his tone and the way he was looking at her, he believed it as much as she did. Which is to say, this is the end. “Promise me you’ll stay alive.”

She nodded but didn’t say anything.

“Take care of Terrasen for me. They need you.”

He nodded, his hands still resting on her face, making no move to leave. “Where will you go?”

She shrugged helplessly, “Maybe I’ll bring Lillian back. I don’t know. I’ll just stay in the shadows for a few centuries, try and build a life where nobody knows me, nobody knows Terrasen.”

He nodded again and slowly dragged his hands from her face. She was the one that was ‘dying’ but he looked ready to keel over himself. He took a few unsteady steps backward and stooped to pick up a backpack they’d brought. He tossed it to her and she caught it easily, slinging it along her back.

She turned and looked at Dorian and Chaol, biting her lip. She wanted them to hurt, she wanted them to feel the betrayal she felt. Not a sting, no, she felt like she’d been stabbed. And as someone who had been stabbed many times before, she felt confident in her analogy. But they were her friends, once.

Make them hurt a voice whispered deep from inside her. She clenched her fists and felt the flames bubbling up.

Aelin. Rowan. In her head.

She breathed in deeply and nodded to them once, they nodded back. She acknowledged the pain in their eyes with not a small amount of satisfaction.

She took off sprinting into the forest and didn’t look back.

~~~~~~

They were walking back to Terrasen, they’d let Aelin off at the border.

“Rowan,” Dorian laid a hand on his arm, “Are you-”

He shrugged the young king off and shifted, taking to the skies, as far from them, from anyone, as he could get.

“We made the right decision, right?” Dorian’s voice was so strained it cut at Chaol’s heart.

“Yeah, yes. This was the right choice. The only choice.”

He nodded, but Chaol could tell the doubts lingered. As long as Aelin was out there, on her own, free but never allowed to return home, the doubts would always linger.

~~~~~~

Her knees buckled not far from where she’d taken off running from the three of them. She flew forward, throwing her hands out and scraping her palms along the rocks as slid to a stop. She tried to breathe, ragged, shaking breaths, as she tried to calm her mind. The world blacked-out around the edges and a whimper fell from her mouth. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t fucking do this.

A weak scream ripped from her throat and she dug her hands harder into the rocks, they sliced her palms open, warm blood trickling into the grass.

She tried to wrangle the fire, she tried to use the tactics Rowan had taught her what felt like lifetimes ago, but just like it had which led to her being here, she couldn’t control it.

It didn’t explode like she thought it would, it bubbled. Like lava in a volcano, it bubbled out of her, hot smoldering fire, trickling down her face like tears, tracing lines along her body like blood. It covered the grass around her and spread, her cry was futile. It burnt straight through some of the ancient oak trees, bringing them down and melting them entirely into the earth.

Despite the chaos around her, despite that first anguished cry, she knelt in the dirt. Wind ripped her hair away from her face as she burned the world around her, nobody could say Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius went out gracefully.

~~~~~~

Despite the initial burning at the border, no sign of Aelin had surfaced. He had to give her credit, the woman knew how to disappear. The thought sent an ache through him, intensifying what was already there.

He’d been like some kind of ghoul, Lorcan and Fenrys traded shifts watching over him, making sure he bathed and ate. Someone always sat at his bedside with him, waking him when the nightmares took him. Nightmares that Aelin was still held captive by Maeve. When they resurfaced, the first night his hand had shot out, seeking a warm body that wasn’t there. He’d flown into a fit of panic until someone had brought someone in. One of the women, Elide, maybe? They had calmed him enough to tell him Aelin wasn’t with Maeve. They weren’t in the war anymore. He remembered where Aelin was. That he didn’t know where Aelin was, only that he had sent her away. In some ways, that hurt worse.

Most of them had moved into the castle and would stay until most of Terrasen, until Rowan, settled enough to be left. Most of them were Lords and Ladies, however, so they alternated. One week Elide would stay at the castle, the next week Lorcan would. The same went for Aedion and Lysandra. He knew it hurt them, being separated like that, but they never once complained. Rowan hadn’t entirely been paying attention when they had decided how Aelin’s ‘death’ had happened, but they’d fabricated a story and spread it. Today was her funeral, nearly a month after she had left - since they’d made her leave - and Terrasen’s people had been in mourning ever since. They would be for a long while, but not nearly as long as Rowan would be.

He wasn’t sure what woke up, it wasn’t even dawn, but his eyes fluttered open. He oriented himself with what - who - surrounded him. Fleetfoot, that damned dog, was at his feet. She hadn’t taken Aelin’s spot, as if hoping she would be back. There was another animal asleep near the foot of the bed, on the floor, Lysandra or Fenrys, and he watched their chest slowly rise and fall and matched his own to it. His heart had been racing. Maybe that’s what woke him, an unseen nightmare.

He crept past the sleeping figure, probably Lysandra then, not as attuned to his every move like he knew Fenrys was.

He slipped out onto the balcony and was struck with the memory of the time Aelin had woken him and he had found her staring with tear-filled eyes at the Kingsflame blooming across those rolling hills.

He surveyed those same hills, the sleeping town below, and leaned forward, bracing his hands on the railing until he was close to tumbling off the edge and stayed there in silence for a long while before speaking. “Damn it Aelin!” He was nearly sobbing, he had no idea when the tears had started. “Why didn’t you stay? Why didn’t you fight harder? Gods,” He broke off and slumped down, unable to speak thanks to the sobs wracking through him. “Please stay,” He nearly whimpered. “I know it’s too late but please, Fireheart, I need you. I need you.”

He fell asleep there, on the balcony, soothed by the beat of his heart. A beat that sounded suspiciously like an echo of Aelin’s fingers dancing along the pianoforte, drawing out a sound she commanded while quietly singing a lullaby she had told him her mother sang to her when she couldn’t sleep.

His eyes closed and he could’ve sworn her voice carried on the wind, that lullaby, followed by a nearly inaudible, “I love you, Rowan. I love you.”

~~~~~~

Half the time she slept in the forest like some kind of wild animal, the other half of the time she disguised herself and found some disgusting tavern to sleep in. She had no idea where she was anymore, she was just wandering aimlessly. She was currently sitting on the roof of one of said taverns. It reminded her painfully of her days as an assassin. She stared up at the stars, unblinking, the night wind was cold and stung her face but she was past caring. Up here, she took off the glamour, becoming Aelin again.

“Do you miss me, buzzard?” She asked the stars. “I hope you miss me as much as I miss you.” She shook her head and laughed angrily. “You became everything you didn’t want to, didn’t you? You bastard.” Her voice was getting louder with each word. “To whatever end? Right.” Angry tears streaked her face for what was definitely not the first time. “I’ve listened around enough that I learned my funeral is tomorrow.” She didn’t even know what she was doing anymore, besides pacing on a roof and shrieking at the sky. “Maybe I’ll stop in, I’ve always wanted to see my own funeral.” She jabbed an angry finger at a star she had deemed was Rowan’s stand-in. “I hope you make it worthy of me, you bastard. Gods, I hope you know me enough to make it as me as you can.” She blew a kiss at that star and something in her cracked, “I love you, Rowan Whitethorn. I shouldn’t, not anymore, but I do.”

She pulled her glamor back on and jumped down from the roof, landing on her feet with practiced ease. “Let’s see if I can make my own funeral, hmm?”

~~~~~~

It was as outrageous as Aelin would have wanted. Everyone was miserable, even those within the inner circle who knew what had really happened. Most everyone was here, except for all the royals within Erilea, and every other land Aelin had touched.

Music flourished from every corner, musicians from all over had come to play pieces for her, in honor of her. It was like some kind of twisted wedding, the way everyone turned when the royals entered. The leaders that Aelin had not known as personally entered first, stopping individually to give impersonal speeches about her. Then Galan entered. He knelt before the basically-shrine honoring her. “You were one of the greatest Queens this world has ever seen, cousin.” He cleared his throat, “You were so much more than all your titles give you credit for, and that’s saying a lot. You were so full of life and energy and,” A broken laugh. “Fire. You burned bright, Aelin. And now that you’re ash, we’re ash too.” He cleared his throat again and stayed kneeling next to the other leaders, murmuring words meant only for him and his cousin.

Manon entered next, she knew the truth but despite that, her eyes were rimmed an angry red. She stood next to Galan, “Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius.” She went silent for a moment before sinking to her knees. Everyone gasped. Family knelt, but other than that no leader, especially not a witch, knelt. “You-” She broke off and bowed her head, curling her hands into fists at her side.

When it was clear Manon wasn’t going to finish, Dorian entered. He knelt beside Manon (cue another gasp) his mouth moved, but it was only for him and Aelin. The goodbye he hadn’t had the chance to say in that forest.

Nesryn and Sartaq strode in, Sartaq didn’t speak, but Nesryn did. Her voice carried, unwavering. “No King or Queen is perfect, but Aelin was pretty damn close. She and I were never the closest but,” She hesitated and Sartaq reached for her hand, “She believed in me. She never looked down on me because I was human, and wasn’t in any huge position of power, and that faith in me never changed even when I became,” She gestured at her and Sartaq, at her dress, “Aelin mattered in a way that not many people have ever mattered. She will be remembered, for her fire and power, for what she’s done, but also how she has a soft spot for dogs and chocolate,” A few wet laughs, “How she loves music and theater, how kind she is to everyone.” The crowd nodded their agreement, there wasn’t a soul that wasn’t crying. “You did it. You made your mark.” She bowed her head and it was clear she was done.

Rowan was last, Goldryn in his hands. He laid in with pain-staking gentleness at her shrine. He stepped back and opened his mouth as if about to speak. His fingers fiddled with the ring on one finger. The ring Aelin had given him that he hadn’t taken off. That he would never take off. “Damn you,” He said finally. “Damn you, Aelin.” He bowed his head to hide from the crowd and someone moved, Elide. She came up to him, murmured a few quiet words, and led him to kneel next to Sartaq. She waited a few moments before returning to her spot.

The music rose as everyone knelt, heads bowed, before their dead Queen. It was ghostly, the way they knelt in total silence, besides their tears. Aelin was going to haunt everyone, for a very, very long time.

If anyone had been looking, they would have seen a female figure in the trees, slipping away as quietly and quickly as she could, tears flowing freely at the love everyone held for her.

“Goodbye,” She whispered. Well, looks like she could make a graceful disappearance after all.

[scandalsavagefanfic]

You are my thoughts fuel right now. Can't stop thinking about your aus and fics even when I'm working! Like your werewolf Ra's and turned hunter Jay: What if after a while Ra's gets intrigued by Tim? How Jason would react? Or Once he is left alone at the base in wolf form and the Hunters Bats break in and take a random wolf for interrogation. The shock when they see its Jason and is pregnant! And that just for that one!

Hello darling! I wanted to answer this so much sooner but I had to get to this point in the story (which didn’t start as a story, just some smutty fun, until I got so many amazing asks with such amazing ideas).

Anyway, I was so flattered that my fics were on your mind! You are so sweet and amazing! Thank you so much!

Words: 1626

Rating: T? M? (I don’t know… there’s no sex in this part either… what’s happening to me?)

Read the previous chapters on AO3!

Jason knows something isn’tright when Ra’s tries to send him away with Talia and Damian.

Ra’s usually likes to keephim close, especially when he’s this far along. Jason takes some comfort fromthe fact that the Alpha didn’t seem to realize how attached to his omega hewould become. Those unwanted instincts and feelings to make one’s mate happyand protect them are apparently a two-way street. Ra’s gets particularlyprotective and territorial toward the end of Jason’s pregnancies. And he onlyhas a few weeks before he gives birth.

Again, he thinks bitterly. On the one hand, he’s grateful that hedoesn’t have to spend 9 months pregnant like a human (though he would muchprefer the 65-day period of wolves) and on the other he despises that the 4month pregnancy and short recovery time means Ra’s has kept him swollen withhis spawn practically all year.

He wonders if that’s normal. Humansand wolves usually only mate once a year and though his first year with thepack is past, he was pregnant a third timebefore it ended.

He’s also a little bitterthat he’s going miss his change by about a week and he is going to have to popthe new ones out as a human. He had his first litter as a wolf and the secondas person. He much prefers going through it as the wolf. It’s less���embarrassing? Certainly less painful.

And even though he loves allhis pups, there’s already too many for him to handle on his own.

Jason sighs. He doesn’t mindgoing off to wherever Ra’s wants them to go.

With Damian.

Damian’s still a pup and asthe oldest child he’s actually been pretty helpful wrangling all his littleaunts and uncles. Jason knows that much of the kid’s motivation is to make surenone of his grandfather’s new children supplant him in the pack hierarchy, toestablish his dominance over them early. But Jason also knows who Damian reallyis, that Damian feels the same pull to Jason’s pups that his little ones felttoward Bruce and Dick, that they’re pack twice over. No one had to tell him,and no one has. But he can see so much of Bruce in Damian it’s almost scary.

But Talia? He knows Ra’strusts his Alpha daughter as much as he trusts anyone. But he doesn’t think hismate sees the way she eyes him sometimes. He’s the only omega in the pack(apparently it’s normal that only the lead Alpha takes a mate) and she’d beenaway on a mission when Ra’s let everyone else have a go at him after hisill-fated escape attempt. He gets the feeling she thinks she missed out. It’spretty unlikely the opportunity will arise again. Even if Jason were to try torun away… at this point, Ra’s is too invested. He has no doubt the Alpha wouldpunish him severely. But it would be private. Ra’s won’t share him now. Regardless,Jason doesn’t really want to be alone with Talia.

So he’s grateful when hisAlpha changes his mind and says he can stay. That it ‘actually works out betterthis way’ which then puts Jason right back on edge.

Their current keep, a remote Gothic castle somewhere in northern Germany, is strangely quiet as Jasontiptoes around. Something is going on, he has a sick feeling in the pit of hisstomach. And it’s not however many pups are in there this time.

Ra’s had told him to staywith the kids. But that’s always been a given so the fact that he had felt theneed to say something… well, it makes it impossible for Jason to resist leavinghis pups with Damian to go snooping around.

The few people he does runinto don’t try to stop him either so the rest of the pack must not know what’sgoing on any more than him. Though he does disappear into a shadow to avoidTalia.

As he creeps deeper into thelower levels he hears speaking coming from a room at the end of a long stonehall. Jason recognizes Ra’s’ soft, low tone easily and spares a moment to hate the way it immediately calms him.The other voice is too quiet to make out.

“—my eye on you since youstarted looking into his disappearance,” Ra’s is saying as Jason carefullymakes his way to door, “You’re very nearly as good a hunter as your ‘father’.What you lack in his physical prowess you make up for with intellect. Too badintellect only gets you so far when you go off on your own.”

There’s the sound of chainsclinking together and little grunting noises that indicate a struggle. Thensomething is mumbled too gently for Jason to hear.

“No they won’t, son,” hisAlpha drawls, “They do not know where you are and they believe he is dead.”

More garbled words, most ofwhich he can’t quite catch. He hears ‘found you’ and ‘babies’ and ‘you’re sick’and finally ‘knows the difference’ but not much else. However, there’s a smallnote of familiarity in the way it sounds. It pulls at the loose ends of faraway memories.

“Ah, yes. Thank you forconfirming that it was your meddlesome family who broke into our last home. Asfor Jason, I’ll have to have a word with him about it, I suppose. After all,family should come first. And Jason’s family is no longer your’s. It’s mine.”

Jason freezes. One of hisbrothers is chained up in that room with Ra’s. Just as he had been once.

Suddenly his Alpha’s desireto send away the only omega for miles makes more sense.

The wave of conflictingemotions that flood through him are debilitating. He’s hurt and angry that hismate would try to make another, especially now, while he carries yet anotherlitter of their pups. But he’s also terrified for…

Tim… that’s who’s in there,that is whose voice he hears. Restrained and at Ra’s’ mercy.

An internal war rages as hisinstincts clash. He hadn’t really had much time to get to know Tim before hewas captured by the Shadow Pack. Tim had been new, only been with them forabout a year. Bruce had taken him in after a lone wolf killed his parents.Jason had liked him but Tim hadn’t had a chance to come out of his shell yet.

Regardless, Tim is part oftheir clan. He is family. Who does Jason protect when both parties are pack?

It’s harder than it shouldbe, to choose Tim, and he hates himself for how long it takes him to stumblethrough the doorway begging “No, please, Ra’s don’t—“.

But it’s nothing to theself-loathing he feels when he sees Ra’s pull away from Tim’s limp body, teethbloody, and realizes he’s too late.

Jason’s knees hit the flooras Ra’s turns and smiles down at him.

“What… what did you do?”Jason asks softly, staring at the drop of blood that drips down Tim’s claviclefrom the bite in his neck until tears sting his eyes. He doesn’t expect andanswer. It’s obvious.

Ra’s slips his fingers underJason’s chin and tilts his head up before cupping his cheek. Jason meets hisgaze and the tears fall.

“You need assistance, Beloved,”Ra’s explains. Jason closes his eyes at the term of affection and leans intothe warm touch. “There is no appropriate option within the pack. So I’ve madeyou one.”

Jason glances back to Tim,still hanging unconscious against the wall, already starting to sweat profuselyas his body begins facilitating the changes to come.

In that moment he’s struckwith a sense of clarity. He won’t let Ra’s do to Tim what was done to him.He’ll help Tim get away before the bond that keeps Jason at his Alpha’s sidemore than anything else can be established. He’s relieved to find that it hasnothing to do with jealousy, nothing to do with Ra’s finding another, or a new,mate, nothing to do with being replaced. But everything to do with protectinghis brother. Ra’s will never touch Tim the way he’s touched Jason.

As though he can read Jason’sthoughts in his expression, Ra’s chuckles and leans over, pressing their lipstogether. Jason opens his mouth without complaint when Ra’s’ tongue prods athim for access.

When the Alpha pulls away andstraightens he cocks his head, regarding Jason with an odd warmth.

“Do not worry, my dear. Youare not being set aside. It did occur to me that two omegas would give me moreoptions in the future. But the pack has no need for another, not to mention theadditional temptation and distraction of an unmated omega, or the resentmentthat could build under a greedy Alpha with two mates. Our kind do not take wellto such departures from protocol.”

Jason tries to suppress thetingle of relief he feels. Focuses instead on his confusion because the packcertainly doesn’t need another Alpha and an Alpha wouldn’t be much help to him.He also tries to focus on that streak of fear he feels for Tim; the anger hefeels toward Ra’s.

“Timothy is much bettersuited to being a beta anyway.”

Jason frowns. He has neverheard of betas.

But then Ra’s’ fingers are inhis hair, his nails scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Come, Beloved,” Ra’s growlsdarkly, tugging him to his feet and pressing him back into the door frame, “Yousmell delicious. I want to spend the rest of the night inside you with yourneck between my teeth.”

[cgmayra]

Just to say I adore your account with every fiber of my being, but since there are soldiers In Sonic Forces, what would you think about Amy being their commander or general? To add Sonic spars with Amy and actually looses due to him thinking "she can't handle it" which infuriates Amy to prove him wrong with a following line "I can't have the leisure of being weak any more Sonic" which leads the blur in this downward-spiral thinking he can't be Amy's shield or hero anymore?

Interesting…~ And thank you so much xD

(x)

Prompt:

“Command, this is Alpha Wolf II, do you copy?”

“Just give me details, solider, I don’t want any more disappointing news.”

Sitting in the dark… trapped behind a desk with thousands upon thousands of monitors, gloved hands typed at lightning speeds…

With a mic and headset looped around pink quills, a voice broke the silence once again. “Solider, you’re not responding.”

Her mouth hung open slightly,.. hearing someone cry out a name she had hoped to never hear…

“Infinite! He’s-!! BBZZZTT…”

Amy rose up after the static hit her ears and she saw the lights of her monitor going out one… by … one…

“No…” her head shook, as her chair rolled in a jerk away from her body as she rose up and slammed her fists to the keyboards below..

“NOO!”

She whipped the headset and mic off her head and swung it to the desks, stomping out and summoning her hammer.

“Never again…” her eyes held such pain, such torture..

“I won’t let a single regiment fall under my protection ever again!”

—

Amy ran up the debris, holding her hammer up horizontally and moving it forward, encouraging her new troops to advance. “Come on, come on!”

They quickly ran ahead of her, dodging the laser fire and ducking through windows of opportunity for the enemy to strike.

Amy ran so fast that she bashed herself up against some cover her troops had secured, and watched as some peeked the corner and fired at approaching Eggbots.

“Soldier! Get-!” She saw a stupid son-of-a-gun firing out in the open, and reached over to yank the back of his shirt down by her in the cover. “-Over here! What? You want your mama missing you?” she patted the side of his face but turned to her second in command.

“How many?” She completely shifted back into focus of her main objective.

“The men are alright, not a single one out of action.”

“Good…” Amy spoke under her breath, “And the enemy?”

“Gaining. It’s only a matter of time. We can’t play dodgeball forever.” The 2nd in command teased, but his voice and stern look said otherwise…

He huddled down by her and the soldier she wrangled in sides, and knelt beside her. “I mean no offense, commander. But this is about to get seriously out of hand.”

The two ducked as someone cried out, “Grenade!”

The explosion was brief, and as if on point, the two’s heads were the first to come back up, staring at each other and continuing the conversation once the ringing in their ears all stopped.

“You need to take cover, permanently.” he threw her a bag, “This is communications to the quadrants of Tails, Knuckles, and-”

“I give orders, Colonel!” She threw the bag back at him, making him stop from momentarily turning his back to her and about to continue, but was amazed to hear her talk back. “I know you don’t think war is for a woman..” she held a kind look with that sentence…

“But trust me… if women enter a war- they finish what they start. They don’t know how to quit till it’s gone their way, and they whine and fight enough about it to where you don’t want them to lose a war. We understand each other?”

He held her stare, and shook his head, “No ma’am. But I’m not one to fight with a woman.”

“Exactly.” Her stare was serious and direct.

He seemed to get that point, at least.

Moving out to further direct the team, getting some men together, the 2nd in command started turning on the communicator.

“Yes, is this Sonic’s division? What’s the call for? Heh, well you better tell that hedgehog to get his spiny, blue butt over her and save his stubborn girlfriend. She’s trying to bust through the epicenter. Yeah. You heard me. Nothing wrong with a woman dying in war, but I’m sure that’s not one causality he’d fancy too much. Right. Over and out.” he hung the communication up and smirked, turning back over his shoulder to watch her take down a few stray fighter bots from hurting her men.

“Men fight wars to keep their girls safe. Don’t’cha know?” he then slung the backpack on and picked up a large gun, “Fire in the hole!” he turned and shot out a large missile, ducking and letting the debris fly out around him.

Amy continued the march, but it was only a matter of seconds before people cheered at Sonic gracing the scene with his blue streak through the battlefield.

Amy was holding her own, but looking up, she saw the robotic foot of the large, tanky robot coming down on her.

She had two options, jump and hope she makes it enough out of the shadow’s rim of the foot to live, or keep running to hope and make it.

She started for the running and then jump, but the shadow crept closer over her…

Her eyes widened as in air, she noticed the rim start to skim over her arms…

But then two hands caught her own and she was hoisted out, just as the foot came down, and rolled into more cover.

She coughed at the dust that spiraled around her before feeling a familiar grip around her, and looking up.

His musky smell and deep breathing triggered further familiarity as she looked up, and hugged her true, blue-

“Sonic! I’m so glad you’re alright!”

“Me?” Sonic opened his eyes, still catching some breath from the close call.

His eyes narrowed slightly, “I should be saying the same thing.”

He didn’t look too amused…

She got up slowly, “What do you mean?”

He moved out from under her and looked her over, before speaking once again. “You look war-torn and rent. I thought I asked you to keep your men on the upper levels and rims of the confine? Without you keeping them in, G.U.N can’t secure this territory.” He moved up to his knee, letting his arm rest on it as he spoke a little more factually to her, keeping emotions on the downlow.

“But my troop has entered the main wall. We left a secure bridge for your men to-”

“That wasn’t your priority or mission. Amy… you could get a lot of men killed.” he got up, and offered her his hand. “Come on. I know you don’t like a desk job… but the center of war is no place for someone like you.” he turned his head, trying to show some loving-sterness in his voice.

It didn’t work out so well.

“No place… for someone like me?” in offense, Amy stood up on her own, her eyes narrowing in not understanding.

“Call off your troops to fall back.” Sonic turned to the side, swiping his hand steadily out but not with much force, as if too tried to fight and not willing to be that firm with her. “This is no place for you to-”

“You think I’m trying to prove myself or something? I haven’t lost one single man!” She stepped forward, contenting with him, as he ducked his head down and let some air out from his nose.

He wasn’t having it.

“Don’t fight me on this, Amy.”

“What’s to fight? Your rank is equal to mine and I call the shots on my troops.” she folded her arms, before immediately thrusting them down as she grew more and more upset. “You’re purposefully stalling me! I need to get back to leading my men!”

“Colonel has that under hand.” Sonic walked forward and put a hand to her shoulder. “Amy…” he spoke a little more tenderly, but definitely with some desperation for her to stop fighting him. “You’ve got a strong heart, and great intent… but you can’t look death in the eye like this…” he motioned his head down to her eye level, shifting his eyes to each of hers, trying to convince her in the nicest way he could.

What he perceived as logical was only infuriating Amy.

Her ears swiped back, an inaudible growl over her teeth vibrated over the air she let escape through her gritted teeth.

With a glare sharp as knifes, she stomped up to him.

“You may not have a good grip of your own emotions, but mine only enhance my ability to lead! A kind leader with a big heart is stronger than any ruthless dictator! I refuse to abandon my troops because you think I’m too soft!” Amy stormed past him, speaking these words and keeping her head forward with conviction.

He sighed and shook his head, “Don’t do this, Ames..”

“Don’t call me Ames.” she felt him starting to shift, and before he could grab her, she swung herself around.

“I can’t have the luxury of being weak anymore, Sonic!” (Hope it’s okay to change ‘leisure’ to ‘luxury’ >x<)

Sonic caught his tongue, closing his open mouth and suddenly having a shocked look on his face.

He slowly… withdrew his opened hand from reaching for her.

“I know you can’t tell…” She started to grow more emotional, her anger growing to sorrow, “But I’ve changed since that little girl you used to save so much.” she teared up, but refused to think of emotion as weakness. Like some of these men did…

“I don’t need a shield.” she put a hand to the arm that was dropping, as Sonic’s eyes scanned hers and then looked down, feeling conflicted and slightly betrayed by the words he was hearing… “I don’t need a babysitter.” she lightly put her other hand to his cheek, which he turned to be away from her.

“I just need a friend.” she looked tenderly and with love towards him. “I need my hero… to become my friend’s hero… And help them be strong.” she turned her own head to try and see his expression, but he looked so distant… as if each word she spoke…

Was breaking his heart.

“I know you’ve grown Amy… but…” he looked down, as if growing timid, and turned his head to face hers again…

He looked at the hand on his arm…

She tightened it.

“Not grown.” she confirmed, and with a heavy tone, stated- “Changed.”

“Commander!”

Sonic turned away, feeling confused and cheated somehow, though he knew he shouldn’t feel that way..

Amy turned to the man calling to her. “I’m here!”

“Commander!” The soldiers came up to her, and knelt down by her with their guns. “We’ve done it! We’ve got the epicenter! But we’re lost on what do now. Should we pierce through to the other side? Or hold ground for further backup?”

‘They made it?’ Sonic looked surprised as he turned to the Soldier.

Amy smiled, beaming at the news. “And our men?”

“All accounted for. Ma’am!” he saluted her. “The buddy-system surprisingly worked very efficiently, ma’am!”

She nodded, turning away and letting go of Sonic.

He watched as the symbolism took root in his heart… as if each string attached to it was snapping one by one as each finger slid off in painful detachment.

He was held in that feeling while Amy addressed the men further.

She stood proudly, hands to her hips, nodding in triumph and accomplishment. “Yep! That’s how you do it! Having someone looking out for you, and you looking out for them, is actually more proficient then just looking after yourself.”

She grinned widely and turned behind her, as Sonic clenched his fist.., his eyes hidden by shadows…

She closed her eyes and began to speak over her shoulder, “Isn’t that right? Sonic?”

She didn’t hear an answer.

“….Huh?”

She blinked her eyes open, and frantically looked around… before growing confused and stepped forward into the empty space.

“S…Son… Sonic?”

(angst is angsttttty~ obviously, AU.)

Part 2 + Extended Narrative from Author- (x)