#DON'T MENTION HOW HE TURNED THEM ALL INTO SOLDIERS DESPITE WANTING TO HAVE THE OPPOSITE

[charizardstolemynickname]

Having an emotional day, so decided the only proper thing is to rewatch episodes of doctor who, because, I know these episodes will fill me with feelings

I forgot how hard S4 EP13 hits.

Tenrose fans fucking won with this episode. LIKE CMON, we got SO MUCH, so much happiness, AND PAIN

If nobody has me, i know S4 EP13 of New Doctor Who got me (in emotional turmoil)

If Tenrose has 1 fan, its me. If Tenrose has 0 fans, I am not only dead but someone chopped up my brain because there is no way my dead body is not still a tenrose fan

Donna fans (also me) won desperately and then suddenly lost. It hurt just as much as the first time watching.

[league-of-sam]

Don't Be Shy | Konig x Reader

Kӧnig x TF141 x AFAB!Reader

PART TWO

Summary: Transferred against your will to a new task force to calm a troubled soldier, you felt way in over your head - especially when you came face to face with a 6'10" mountain of Austria. 18+ MINORS DNI! t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, human trafficking, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).

1 / 3 / 4 / 5

As predicted, and as the newest addition to the task force, Fender wanted to see your abilities in action.

For days, he pushed you.

He had you run through all of their training exercises, of which you completed with full marks. By the time you were done, you were completely exhausted, and starving.

“Hey! Newbie!” A voice called as you laced up your boots.

Looking up, you saw a group of soldiers approaching you, two males, one female.

“Uh, hi.” You said, wiping your hands on your trousers as you stood.

“Horangi.” The first introduced himself, “This is Hutch and Calisto.”

“Calisto.” You hummed, “Cool name.”

“Not as cool as yours, Karma.” She replied, nudging you playfully.

You laughed, “Yeah, I got Soap to thank for that.”

“So, you’re 141?” Horangi asked.

“Yeah, been with them about a year, transferred here temporarily to-”

“Deal with Kӧnig,” Hutch cut you off, “Yeah, everyone knows why you’re here.”

You frowned.

No wonder Kӧnig kept to himself outside of missions, these people treated him like utter shit.

You looked around for the giant but came up empty.

“He seems nice.” You spoke.

Calisto snorted, hand moving to cover her mouth, “The guy is silent, doesn’t speak to anyone.”

Her laughing rubbed you the wrong way, and despite the two of you having a rather...hostile start, you felt the need to defend Kӧnig.

“Have you tried talking to him instead of waiting for him to speak to you?” you challenged.

She shrugged, shaking her head somewhat ashamedly. Hutch bared the same reaction, which told you all you needed to know; no one had even given him a chance.

“Say, uh, wanna join us for dinner?” Horangi said.

At the mention of food, your stomach grumbled loudly, making the group laugh, “Now you mention it, I’m starving.”

With that, the four of you made your way to the canteen, the darkness of the night drawing your attention to how late it actually was. The canteen was bustling, murmurs of numerous conversations flowing around you, creating a sea of sound.

It was strange, coming from a small, elite, taskforce to one that had at least 40 soldiers. You were used to home-cooked family meals with the 141, mostly cooked by you. Here, it was a full on cafeteria, trays and all.

You thanked the servers profusely as they placed the meal onto your tray, and then turned, scanning the room for a place to sit.

Calisto called your name, beckoning you over to the table she was at, sat alongside Fender and Roze.

Something else caught your eye, though.

In the corner, pushing the food around his plate, was Kӧnig. He was sat alone, and even the few tables in his immediate vicinity were empty. People avoided him like the plague.

With a soft smile to Calisto, you shrugged, and made your way to him.

Might as well get started now.

He didn’t look at you as you sat down in the seat opposite, but the room practically fell silent. It was enough of a change for him to finally look up, and that’s when you noticed the colour of his eyes.

Blue.

A gorgeous, crystalline, blue.

They widened as he saw you before him, his fork scraping against the pottery with an agonising squeal. You offered a small smile, fidgeting a little under his gaze.

“How is the food here?” you spoke. He didn’t reply, continuing to gawk at you, “It any good or am I about to get poisoned?”

You cringed internally at your attempt to make a joke, and his lack of an answer made things so much worse.

He looked the furthest from pleased, his eyes narrowing and the grip on his own fork seeming uncomfortably tight. You ate in an uncomfortable silence, until the density of the air became a little too heavy.

“What did you have?” you spoke again, nodding to his torn-up-but-barely-eaten food.

He just continued to stare at you with a shark-like gaze, as if you were some silly warbling seal swimming up to him in his lair. You tilted your head, confused by his reactions to your words. You wondered if, maybe, he’d get angry, but instead his eyes began darting around the room, as if he was waiting for someone to strike.

“I-is something wrong, Kӧnig?” you asked, trying to follow him in whatever it was he was searching the room for.

“Why are you asking me all these questions?” he finally spoke.

Your gaze faltered from him, an embarrassed blush creeping onto your cheeks, “Oh, uh, just trying to make conversation. We are partners after all-”

“I don’t need a partner, don’t need you.” He spat.

“I know it’s not exactly ideal for either of us.” You frowned, “But I’d like for us to get to know-”

“Who put you up to this?” he said, cutting you off with a raised voice, “Was it Horangi? No, Roze? Calisto? I saw you laughing with them.”

His voice got louder and louder with every word he threw at you, leaning in your direction angrily. Your hands began to shake, you were never good with hostility and confrontation, that’s why you were a sniper in the first place – you were out of the action.

That’s why Ghost was so protective of you.

He saw one of the rookies giving you a mouthful in the briefing room, once. Your small hands were shaking at your sides as you tried to swallow down tears. He’d wasted no time in saving you from that situation and giving that rookie a piece of his mind.

That’s when he and the rest of the 141 realised what a soft, kind, human you were, and how protective they all felt of you.

So, in this moment, when you could feel that lump in your throat rise and your eyes sting, you weren’t at all surprised. Annoyed with yourself, yes, but confrontation was not your strong suit.

“N-no, not at all!” you struggled to speak, “I wanted to speak to you, no one has made me do anything I swear.”

“Just leave me alone.”

He stood from the table with such force, that it sent the chair he’d been sitting on screeching and clattering backwards, toppling over with a deafening blow. It made you jump, but you did nothing as he stormed past you, whispering under his breath in a mixture of German and English.

The entire cafeteria was looking at you now, some looked terrified, some looking not-so-surprised.

Guess you knew now why no one spoke to Kӧnig.

You’d rushed from the canteen not long after him, the tears threatening to spill forcing you to the safety of your dorm.

Before you even had a chance to breathe, your tablet rang, signalling a video call.

When you answered, the faces of Soap and Ghost popped up, smiles on their lips as soon as they saw you.

“With all due respect, Lieutenant, this really isn’t a good time.” You sniffed, rubbing your eyes.

His and Soap’s excited demeanour immediately changed, the two of them sharing a look of concern before bombarding you with questions along the lines of who hurt you? Do we need to come? Say the word and we’ll kill whoever it is-

“Fucking hell, shut up!” you stopped them, but a giggle escaped your lips at their protective nature, “It’s fine, just…this guy is tougher than I thought.”

“I’ll say!” Soap spoke, “We read his file, lass. The man is an absolute nutjob.”

“That isn’t nice, Soap.”

“It’s true, kid. Did you read his file?” Ghost said, propping the camera up more.

“Only what Fender gave me.” You sighed.

“What about the classified stuff?”

“Funnily enough, Soap, I didn’t see that. In case you forgot, classified means not accessible.”

Soap grumbled under his breath at your retort, Ghost whispering for him to shut the fuck up. The sight made you laugh, honestly. The two were already like an old married couple.

It was adorable.

“What’s in the classified then? Anything I should know?” you pressed.

“He took out an entire human trafficking base in Berlin alone. Breached the doors and killed all twelve men in there on his own, without weapons. The guy is a psychopath.”

Your eyes widened in shock, “Christ…what the fuck has Price got me into? I just tried talking to him for the first time in days and he yelled at me in front of everyone and pushed a chair practically across the room.”

“Ya need to be careful, bonnie.” Soap said, worry striking his features.

“They treat him like shit here. I need to help him. He has issues with anxiety and not one person ever speaks to him outside of missions.”

“Just make sure you keep yourself safe, can’t have this guy hurtin’ ya.”

“Careful, Ghost – you’re really teetering on the edge of sounding like you care!” you teased, earning you an eye roll, “Besides, I don’t think there’s a whole lot I can do. Kӧnig is 6’10 and built like a brick shithouse.”

You couldn’t help but lose yourself in thought as your mind took you back to the office, seeing his giant body tower over you.

Unfortunately, Soap was being very observant, and he did not miss the way your tongue slowly licked over your lips.

“Karma…do not tell me you have a crush on this guy?!”

“W-what? Soap- no! I’ve just met him!” you screeched, but once again your face was heating, and you didn’t dare look at the two men before you.

“Fuckin’ steaming hell, you do!”

“No, I do not-!”

A knock at your door cut you off, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

Spilling out a rushed goodbye to the boys, who were speaking over one another to get you to stay, you cut them off, tossing the tablet behind you and approaching your door.

With a heavy hand, you pulled it open, only for your eyes to be level with a very hard chest.

Slowly, you tipped your head up, finally making eye contact with the last person you’d expected to see. You were cast in darkness, his frame completely blocking any light from the hallway seeping through.

“Oh, u-uh, Kӧnig…hi.” You said softly.

He looked down at you, shifting on his feet, “Commander said I had to come and…apologise?” he said, almost a question, as if wondering if that was the right word to use.

“Right, uh, no problem.” You nodded. “People aren’t nice to you, it’s natural to be wary, I understand.”

He nodded, opting not to speak.

A part of him did feel bad. You’d only tried to be nice, something he’d prayed for every single day, but the second he got what he wanted, those voices nagged in his head. He found it hard to believe your intentions were pure.

After all, you were everything he wanted to be, and he was coincidentally paired with you for this mission.

It was bullshit.

You stood there, twiddling your thumbs anxiously under his gaze, until he moved swiftly, stalking back the way he came. It left you dumbfounded for a moment, until the sound of Soap and Ghost calling you back on the tablet caused your eyes to roll, and you shut the door.

[shatcey]

Choose your true love (Sariel)

Sariel Silvio

This is a story event dedicated to the 4th anniversary of the game. I have already mentioned this here and here.

Belle found herself outside the castle, she tried to enter, but the soldier at the gate wouldn't let her in because "the King is too busy to deal with even more complainants." A lot of people died (you remember the Hope, right?). So… The king is still alive, it somehow slipped my mind…

But when she mentioned that she wanted to see Sariel, soldier got very suspicious…

They put her in jail. And, of course, Sariel came to interrogate (torture) very suspicious women, most likely a spy.

No, really, I don't remember that sharp gaze much. Well… maybe only when he looks at Clavis… Usually, when he smiles, he's even more creepy.

At first she felt relieved, this is her fiance, he will definitely help her. But he didn't recognized her and he looks a bit different. This Belle is quite observant and can put two and two together, so she figure out that she is in the past and even when exactly. It has been 2 weeks since the Bloodstained Rose Day. She told him she was from the future, but he didn't believe her. Some soldier came and said something about a dubious village. Kate remembered reading about a village in the north and said that there were injured people there and they needed to hurry. Sariel agreed to check, but if she lied, he would kill her.

They went together, Belle in chains (I didn't expect this from Sariel, from Clavis yes, for sure, but not from him). At first they found nothing, but Belle sensed something underground and, despite the chains and Sariel's displeasure, went to check and found the entrance to the basement with a jammed door.

Yes, for some reason this Belle doesn't think that this is just a bad dream… I wonder why. Maybe too many details that she cannot possibly know gave her a hint…

So she started working as Sariel's assistant again. She was waiting for him in his office. It was already very late, but he didn't come back, so she decided to look for him. This woman will never learn.

And, of course, where was a man who said something about the king

NO, she'll definitely never learn…

This man obviously noticed her and tried to kill… Because the real target wasn't the king, but Sariel. She was chosen by him, and he was hated even then.

Right… a spy… who cannot follow you unnoticed. I see, you are a very smart man…

But Sariel showed up and was very angry at her for doing something without his permission, and they talked for a while, completely forgetting about this very smart man.

In fact, quite the opposite. But… you are a very smart man, how can you possibly be wrong?..

Sariel disarmed and knocked down the man, then the guards ran up and collected all the "garbage" (I believe there was more than one person) and put them in the prison (at that time this place was quite crowded).

Sariel took Belle to his room to treat her wound. She has a cut on her arm. And suddenly he asks…

And she decided to talk about the princes. Clavis' pranks, Yves' treats… etc… When the conversation turned to the king in the future, Sariel, noticing the tense atmosphere, invited her to have a drink with him. Slightly intoxicated, she remarked that it was good that he could relax sometimes by drinking with the king. But he hadn't even thought about it before.

At night he stands on the balcony and looks at the city. The king appears, they talk a bit and suddenly Sariel suggests to have a drink together.

The next day Sariel with Belle stand at the top and look at the city. It's quite busy preparing for the White Rose festival. He asks her again who she is.

I remembered Licht at the event where Belle lost her memory, and there's nothing he could do about it… But here it's the other way around. She wants to be with the person she cares about, but it's not him… yet. Very sad...

She was trying to think of a way to respond… What can she tell him? What does she want to tell him?

But she didn't have time to say that much… she disappears before his eyes, but manages to ask him to find her in the future…

In the most dark times, when no one could even imagine that something good would ever happen and even he had doubts… she gave him hope! I got goosebumps.

Belle found herself in the garden. She immediately realized that she returned. The garden is very well maintained and the atmosphere is relaxed. Sariel finds her, and they have a teary reunion (Kate was in tears, he just brushed them away, I can't imagine him crying at all). He noticed her injured hand and became worried, and she replied that it had already been treated (by him… but it would be quite difficult to explain, so she didn't mention it).

They are in his room at night. Kate remembers the lonely Sariel from the past and says it's good that he sometimes drank with the king.

It was her! The girl who's sitting next to you! But seriously, I like that they didn't show the flashback, or he didn't say "where was a strange women"… It was 10 years ago, of course, he cannot possibly remember it!

She asks him what would have happened if he hadn't chosen her as Belle that day…

I have goosebumps again! The last expected I will ever say that about Sariel. But he's so damn sweet!

I feel so happy right now. I like it when actions taken in the past affect the future. There is a very solid reason why she needed to visit the past. She saved people, helped Sariel with his work and morally, she even suggested to him how to lighten his burden while she wasn't in his life... After all, the King was kind of friend of his… And it was she who pushed him to this idea. I really like it.

I didn't notice such a strong connection in the stories of Silvio or Gilbert. I liked them both very much for completely different reasons.

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🔝 Start page 🔝

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[phoenix-flamed]

Another headcanon post? From me??? No way. (Just kidding, I'm predictable :tm: )

Let me preface this one with the fact that I, as always, and obviously, can't speak to what was intended for the actual in-game Elwin. I don't know his actual reasons for doing what he did, if there is anything to elaborate on with them -- and the writers as far as I know haven't expanded on the subject. (Unless there's mention of it somewhere in the Ultimania, or tidbits of info in one of the other non-English versions of the game, in which case omg please tell me because I desperately want to know more about it.)

This is purely my headcanons for my Elwin, specifically. And it's also worth noting that I still don't agree with his decision on this matter; I probably never will agree with it, although I understand theoretically why he did it and why it was a smart move politically.

Now then, onto the actual subject of the post: bringing Jill back to Rosalith with him after the war with the Northern Territories was ended.

My Elwin's big thing is, and always will be, building a better future, one carefully laid brick at a time. A large chunk of the decisions he makes, for better or worse, positive or painful, are driven by this goal.

It's no secret to anyone that Rosaria and the Northern Territories have been at odds for decades or more before the game takes place. Hell, the reason Rosaria lost control of Drake's Breath for the last time to the Iron Kingdom fifty years prior was because Rosaria was preoccupied with fending off the Northern Territories, and the Iron Kingdom took advantage of the situation to take the Mothercrystal for themselves while Rosaria was distracted. My Elwin doesn't particularly like war, despite being a soldier, and despite taking part in or leading many military campaigns across his lifetime. He tries to avoid engaging the duchy in conflicts whenever able, preferring to find peaceable methods of resolution instead of jumping straight to force, and in general displays of power.

War is, and always will be, a last resort during his reign. It's not just for the sake of Rosaria -- it's for the sake of their opposition, too.

When it comes to putting an end to the conflicts with the Northern Territories once and for all, it's about more than simply quelling the fighting. It's also, and perhaps far more importantly, about establishing a relationship with the North. Elwin knows that King Warrick and his people are in dire straights. He understands why they chose to march on Rosarian soil, understands that they are desperate and riled up. Their Mothercrystal is dead, their Eikon hasn't Awakened again as far as anyone is aware, the Blight has consumed most of their land and is still creeping onward...

In spite of the fact that yes, the North is, and historically has been, enemies to Rosaria, Elwin nonetheless refuses to turn his back on them and leave them to suffer and die. Instead, he offers them resources and supplies, and opens the duchy's borders to refugees trying to escape the Blight. (A decision that yes, has negative repercussions over time for the duchy, in that it starts to spread their resources for themselves thinner and thinner, as revealed at the start of the game in the throne room scene.) Regardless of whether or not this is a good or bad decision on his part, he wants a better future for everyone, not just Rosaria -- and I can't overstate that fact. While his political reach only extends as far as Rosaria's borders, that doesn't mean he isn't going to do everything within his power for others in need too.

Now, how does this relate to Jill? I don't know what the canon exchange was like between Elwin and King Warrick, so again, this is all just specific to my muse. He didn't take Jill to Rosalith solely as a means of ensuring that King Warrick wouldn't attack Rosaria again -- there was another reason, a more important reason, or so I would argue.

It was a plan for the future.

My Elwin isn't a fan of arranged marriages, so the intention wasn't to have Jill wed either of the boys -- at least, not unless they themselves chose it. But it was his hope that through forming a friendship and bonds, the children would bring Rosaria and the Northern Territories closer together than he and The Silvermane ever could have. The children are, after all, the future; when it comes time for Joshua to take the throne, it will be their generation's opinions, perceptions, desires, etc. that influence Joshua's decisions and ambitions, and these things will be -- perhaps largely -- shaped by the relationships that he has established on a personal level as well. Jill, too, will have political influence when she is older, albeit on the side of the North, and thus can the same be hoped with her.

His intention was, in short, to start laying down bricks for a foundation for a better relationship between the North and the duchy, and a better future for both nations, with the hope being that the children would pick up on building where he leaves off for them.

The concept of Jill losing her identity as princess of the North, losing touch with her peoples' cultures and traditions, etc., is not Elwin's intention, but yes, it may happen as a consequence of his choice. In truth, though, he personally would encourage her to hold onto those things -- because she is a princess of the North, the daughter of King Geir Warrick. If there are traditions and customs that are valuable to her people, or religious practices that they carry out, or beliefs that they hold onto, then they should all be respected, at least in his eyes.

He does not, by any means, agree that the peoples of the Northern Territories are "savages". And he would very much like to see that opinion of them change, and see their peoples come together in respect and friendship.

It should be noted, though, that no, I still don't agree that he should have forced this on Jill by taking her to Rosalith without her consent, regardless of the nature of the agreement between himself and her father. (Humorously enough, I feel similarly to him with Clive and Joshua, too. His intentions were good! But he placed such a heavy burden on their shoulders by signing them up to continue on his work after he's gone, regardless of whether or not it's what they would want to do. But this is also me being nitpicky. I do get why he did it and why it's such an important legacy to carry on, and I agree with the ambition!)

[yourfellowhuman07]

Where Do We Go Now?

A She-ra: Princess of Power 2018 fanfiction

The war is finally over. Prime is dead, the hive mind is broken, and everyone is reunited with their loved ones. However, there are some questions left unanswered. What will be the fate of Catra and Hordak? What are these new memories Wrong Hordak has? What is Etheria's place in the wider universe? Where do we go now?

___________________

Chapter 12. Don't worry this is much shorter than Chapter 11.

___________________

Chapter 12: You Are Going to What?

“You’re going to what?” Adora and Glimmer looked at Bow dumbfounded

“Look I know it sounds crazy but Hordak needs more friends, and how are we to trust him if all we know about him is what our parents told us? Adora didn’t you say you wanted to get to know him better.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Well then it’s settled: I’m going to try my best to become friends with Hordak, it might be difficult, but I will not back down from a challenge. Also, Entrapta said he isn’t bad when you get to know him so that gives me confidence.”

“Alright Bow, just don’t get disappointed when Hordak doesn’t want to be your friend, you know he isn’t the most… sociable.”

“I know Glimmer but right now Hordak needs a friend and I want to be that friend.”

“Yeah, you probably don’t want to mention that last part to him.” The best friend squad whipped their heads around to see Catra who seemingly teleported behind them.

“Why not?”

“If there is anything Hordak hates he hates being pitied, it hurts his pride and makes him feel inferior, which is another thing he hates.”

Bow tried to speak when he stopped to think.

Am I doing this out of pity?

Maybe.

______________________________________________________

The movie had ended and Entrapta and Hordak sat comfortably in silence. At least the former did, the latter was debating in his head whether or not he would ask a question that had been in the back of his mind ever since his mind was disconnected from the hive mind.

“Entrapta, what has happened to Imp?”

Hordak had an odd relationship with Imp. It forever teetered between child and pet. He had the body language of a pet but the mind of a child, and sometimes it is even the opposite. Despite this Hordak cared for the little demon no matter how much of a headache he could be, and Hordak was terrified about what had happened to him.

Entrapta turned around to face Hordak.

“Oh my gosh I completely forgot to tell you about that, but don’t worry I tasked some of the old Horde soldiers with taking care of him. Their names were Lonnie, Kyle, and Ro-something.”

Hordak’s heart sunk to his chest, he knew who she was talking about. He knew the trio from them working with Adora and Catra. Lonnie he could trust, she was strong, confident, and had a good head on her shoulders. Rogelio was also fine, he was also strong and reliable and Hordak trusts both him and Lonnie with Imp. Kyle on the other hand was an entirely different entity. Hordak had constantly heard the complaints that he was a screw-up and a weakling and that he could not handle the simplest of tasks. While Hordak usually took those grievances with a grain of salt he still had his… concerns; however, Hordak knew that Entrapta would make a good decision.

“They updated me before the fight with Prime that they were safe and Imp was eating well. I’ll message them and tell them to come to Brightmoon so you can get him back.”

“Good, that is good…. Starlight, were you serious about us all staying with you in Dryl?”

“Of course Hordak I would love to have you three stay with me.”

“You are also aware that there are other clones that might be coming with TD and me?”

“Of course! The more the merrier. Speaking of Dryl I was thinking when we get back we could-”

Entrapta went on the babble about all the scientific excursions they will engage in once they returned to Dryl as Hordak listened calming him down and giving him some level of confidence for the future.

[rawmeknockout]

I NEED some horny little Decepticon recruit majorly thirsting after some enemy leader Optimus Prime, would probably fit best in G1 with all the wackiness going on there but don’t really care which universe

It's not that you want to scare him. Quite the opposite! You wish he found you charming and beautiful, a Mirage or Knockout. Maybe then he would look twice at you. He would shine that warmth your way.

Him. Sweet Optimus Prime. Oh, how the syllables roll of your glossa. It thrills you to the core, lights you aflame, sends your cold Decepticon spark spinning. Sweet Optimus Prime, noble Optimus Prime, willing to jump in front of gunfire for his own soldiers. You may be loyal to the Decepticon cause, but there is something about his passion that is undeniable. He always speaks with such power, sending pleasant tremors through your frame. If only you could get those kind optics on you for but a moment.

It's not like you're blind. You can be intense; some of your own comrades have called you creepy. Wide, unblinking optics like a doe, perhaps a touch too unsettling, and a rather strange disposition. No, it's no wonder why you can't turn his helm. In fact, it practically burns you up with jealousy to think that one of those unworthy Autobots could be in his berth. Even worse if it's a human! Such unworthy insects. You don't know why he fights so fiercely for them, but it is that undying fire that is exactly how he has come to dominate your processor.

There is nothing you want more than to hold him down and worship him, helm to pede, to give him everything he could ever desire. If only he would grace you with a look or a word. You watch him across the battlefield, optics like a predator, distracted from pummeling that no good Lancia.

But perhaps he is not so blind to your feelings. As you're helping Swindle limp away from battle, Optimus catches your wishful gaze and, instead of recoiling as so many past beloveds have done before, he slides that loathsome mask away to give you the gentlest of smiles. The barest peek of denta over a plush bottom lip. Oh, how he sends your spark leaping from it's chamber. His meddlesome Second and Third-in-Command shoot you worrisome looks as they attempt to whisk your love away, but they can't stop what has been set in motion. He looked at you! Smiled at you! That wide, dependable servo coming up to offer a near sheepish wave. A simple gesture that looks so grand coming from your one and only.

There is an undeniable skip in your step as Megatron calls for a retreat, your uneasy comrades creating a wide berth as you trot past. You'll take a million defeats across this horrible dirt ball if it means he will give you that sweet grin once more.

Despite Prowl's insistence, Optimus waves away his worries, "They're harmless." Optimus chooses not to mention the numerous times he's seen you watching him, well aware how often you sneak around the Ark just for a chance to spy on him. Well aware how you've taken a shine to him. It's quite flattering. As long as your sneaking is not on Megatron's orders, which he highly doubts, there's no use getting you into trouble.

[spookiekewchie]

⛓kinktober 2021- predator/prey⛓

—so i think we should run, run, run...

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: alpha!Soldat x woc!reader

Summary: You know there's no escape, the wolf will always find his kitten...and still you run.

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: a/b/o, stalking, pet names (kitten), non/dubcon due to a/b/o dynamics, forced heat (false), predator/prey (hunting the reader down), chasing, mentions of murder, mentions of blood, readers conflicting emotions due to a/b/o dynamics, choking, unprotected sex (p in v), rough sex, outdoor sex, big ass beefy soldat, a couple of google translations (very minor), i think that's everything???

A/N: I don't even know where to start except for this has been sitting in my brain for months and kinktober seemed like the perfect excuse to give yall this nastiness. Anyways here’s my first a/b/o thing. Hopefully it ain't trash. This is a dark plot please be mindful of the warnings. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. If there’s any errors or typos my bad, I gave it a look over before posting but I probably missed something knowing me.. The divider is by @firefly-graphics

translations: Бежать котенок = run kitten / котенок = kitten

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. Reblogs are always welcome, and let me know that you enjoy my fics.

He’s here, how is he here? He can’t be here! Your mind races, eyes wide in shock as you eye the alpha in front of you. You’d seen him on the streets earlier, and you’d gone through extra lengths to evade him before slipping away to your hideout. You were sure that you’d shaken him off your trail, and in your false sense of security you had led him right to you. The empty mansion you’ve been squatting in suddenly seems massive and claustrophobic at the same time. The walls all seem to be pressing in on you while the doors all seem too far away. He takes one heavy step forward, and you swear the sound of his boots on the marble tile sounds like thunder.

You flinch back a step, body coiled and tense as if you’re about to bolt away from him like you have so many times before. “God damnit, why won’t you just leave me alone!” You shout, more irritated than afraid despite knowing just how easily the alpha in front of you can end your life. The mask covers the bottom half of his face, but the way his skin crinkles around his steel blue gaze let’s you know that he’s smiling under it. You know what he wants from you, and he knows what you’re about to do.

“Бежать котенок.” The soldier gives you nothing more than that, just the simple command that you can barely make out or understand in the midst of the fear and excitement that’s gripping you.

It doesn’t even register to you that you’re already running until a moment later when your brain finally catches up with your body’s flight or fight response. Your legs are pumping under you, carrying you as far and as fast as they can away from the menacing soldier. It’s been a while since you’ve run like this, and you can already feel the way your heart is pounding in your chest at the exertion, but you keep moving, you keep running.

You can’t stop, not with the Winter Soldier stalking after you.

Your first instinct is to go for the back door, if you can make it out of the overly large house then you have a chance. You can see the door that leads outside and you just need to reach it. Just as you do though a knife flies past you and buries itself into the door. You scream, turning away and running in the opposite direction in an instant, you bolt up the stairs as soon as you reach them. Taking them as fast as you can before ducking into a room. Of course it won’t be that easy, he wants a chase. He wants you terrified, and he wants you begging for mercy that he won’t grant you once he decides to put an end to the game.

He’s already tracked you through the city, cruelly letting you think that you’ve evaded him just for him to spring from the shadows like some phantom, and now he stalks after you with one goal in mind. The Soldat intends to claim you, and bond you. Your mating gland throbs at the thought of it, of how two years of running from the Winter Soldier have led to this moment. He’s the one alpha you’ve never been able to shake off your trail. He’s been persistent, and patient like a wolf stalking its prey. You know he’s never been too far behind, that he’s only let you think you’ve escaped him. It’s all been a game of wills between you two, the alpha in him wants nothing more than to tame the willful omega in you, and you’ve gone through great lengths to avoid that very thing. You’ve gone from state to state, continent to continent. For all intents and purposes you’re off the grid, no social media, no cell phone, no internet history for him to have tracked, yet he still always managed to find you. You want to scream in frustration but you know that will just give him a better idea of where you are.

You take a quiet breath, stealing your nerves as you look around the room that you’ve darted into. There’s no weapon to defend yourself in sight, but you do spy a vanity full of perfumes and cologne. You already know that the Soldat will be able to find you easily enough by scent, so you think fast as you grab up all the bottles you can and think of a plan. It’s not the best, but it’s what you have at such short notice and you know you don’t have long before he’s stalking into the room.

“Where are you, kitten? Come out, come out wherever you are.” You can hear him just down the hall, his voice muffled by the mask.

You panic a little, dropping the bottles onto the bed in the room before quickly grabbing them one by one and twisting off the tops to pour the liquid out onto the comforter. It’s all you can do to keep yourself from retching at the strong odors as they mix and create a hellish scent that burns its way up your nostrils. But you know it’ll be worse for the soldier. The super soldier serum coursing through his veins makes his senses stronger, and it’s a blessing. You also reckon that it can be a curse as you rip the perfume and cologne soaked cover from the bed and rush to hide by the door.

You won’t have a lot of time when he opens it and steps through, so the second that he does you spring into action and throw the perfume drenched cover over him before sprinting away. You don’t stop to look and see if your hasty plan is successful, but you can hear the sound of his coughing and cursing as he rips the covers, along with his mask, off of his face with a growl.

The soldier has to give it to you, it’s clever what you’ve just done. By using his enhanced senses against him you’ve rendered him temporarily unable to scent you, and it gives you a mild advantage. He tries to inhale and there’s no hint of you that he can detect, frustration has him putting a metal fist through the wall before he’s stalking out of the bedroom to try and track you by sound now.

“Clever, little kitten. But I can still hear you. Your heart is pounding for me.” He taunts, and as if you can stop your heart from beating as fast as it is, you press a hand to your chest to try and calm it. It’s easier said than done, and you know you need to do something quick before he tracks you down because of the traitorous organ beating wildly in your chest. You dart across the hall, thankful that he isn’t close to the sitting room so you can rush to the stereo system and turn on the loudest most blaring radio station you can find.

Something above you crashes, you know it’s the soldier reacting to yet another one of your dirty tricks. You allow yourself half a second to smirk, knowing that he’s likely never had to work this hard to catch his prey before. Though if the curses in Russian that he’s bellowing out are anything to go by you know you need to get out of the large house and to safety. You know he can’t easily hear you, so you don’t bother trying to be quiet as you go for the kitchen door. Stopping only to yank the knife he'd thrown at you earlier from the door before you rip it open and step out into the cool night air. You have only moments to decide between trying to run along the road in the unlikely hope that someone will be driving by and willing to stop to help you, or try your luck in the woods that sit just beyond the backyard. At least in the woods you’ll be able to hide easier than you would running straight down the side of the road. You’re a harder target, you rationalize while your feet quickly carry you towards the tree line as you break into a run just as you hear the sound of the loud metal music come to an abrupt end. You can only assume the soldier has shot out the stereo, though you clearly have no intentions of finding out for sure.

You run, and you run, deeper into the woods and never drawing a straight path as you try to carefully avoid leaving too obvious a trail. You’ve been doing this for two years, evading him and constantly slipping out of his grasp. You know you’re the hardest hunt he’s ever chased, and you know that the challenge you present to the alpha in him makes him want you just that much more. The thought of what might happen if you slip up just enough to let him truly capture you sends a shiver down your spine and shamefully slick coats your sex at how primal and raw this all is. You hate that as much as the Soldat frightens you he excites you as well, and you wonder if it’s much the same for him with how you refuse to simply give him what he wants.

“I will have you, kitten.” He calls out, inhaling deeply and letting out a satisfied sigh as his sense of smell comes back to him. Everything rushes in at once and it staggers him for a moment as he sorts through the smell of the fresh air, the grass, and dirt, the trees, and then there’s you. God he can smell you again and he can smell how your body craves him. It makes his cock stiffen beneath the fabric of the tactical pants he wears. “Smells like you want me to have you, котенок.” He taunts, smirking as he licks his suddenly dry lips, sniffing the air to find the direction that your scent is strongest in and then he’s off.

The fact that you can hear his words as he calls out into the night only tells you that he’s too close, and you’re almost tempted to simply break out into a desperate run. You take a breath to steady yourself, the hand around the hilt of the knife grips tighter and you carefully make your way through the woods. You try your best to leave as little of a trail for him to track you with, he can already smell you and there’s no need to make things easier. You use rocks and fallen logs to traverse the woods mindful of any noises that you might make as you near the main road. All you need is to flag down a car and then you’re home free, in fact you can see headlights just ahead through a break in the trees and you can feel your heart swelling with hope as you sprint towards freedom.

“There you are, kitten.” The voice is unnervingly even coming from behind you, and you whip around with the knife still in hand. You know you don’t stand a chance in hell at beating him, his smirk tells you that he knows it as well but he’s inviting you to try.

Don’t fight him, give in. Give in! Your primal side screams, wanting nothing more than for you to get on all fours and present yourself to him. You ignore it, trying desperately to not give into that baser side of yourself that wants to end this chase. “I’m not your fucking kitten!” You snap, holding the knife out in front of you as you attempt to ward the persistent alpha off. He steps forward with a mocking grin, and you take off again but this time he doesn’t let you get far. You feel the iron grip around your waist and you twist in his hold with a wild swing of your arm with every intention of slashing at him with the knife, but easily deflects your attempt. It’s like you thought, you don’t stand a chance in a fight with him but he seems to appreciate the effort regardless when he knocks the kitchen knife from your grasp and pulls you into his chest. The fights over before it even starts, and your primal side of you purrs at the strong alpha as his scent envelops and saturates your senses.

It leaves you lightheaded, and dizzy with the smell of him. He’s woodsy, like cedar, citrus and leather. But there’s a hint of whiskey and blood to him that sets you on edge and reminds you that he’s a killer. You should try to break free of him, you know you should but your head is swimming, and the only thoughts you can think are for him. He sets you on edge, but thrills you at the same time, and his scent makes your mouth water. It has your every instinct to give him flaring up like a forest fire as warmth floods your core and you know a fresh wave of slick is soaking into your jeans. Your fists clench into the leather of his jacket, and you try to shake your head clear of him realizing far too late just what it is he’s doing to you until you feel that strong, almost painful, pang of need deep inside you.

“Fuck! Stop-st...stop it!” You hiss, groaning as a twinge of pain registers in your lower belly. The bastard is pumping pheromones into the air and it’s forcing your body into a false heat and you know it. There’s just nothing you can do about it, and he knows it when another stronger, and more painful pang of need hits you and on instinct you bury your face into the warm leather covering his chest and let out a half sob. “Why?”

“Because you’re mine, kitten. Always have been, and now I’m going to make sure you and the rest of the world knows it.” If you could think straight you wouldn’t allow yourself to feel even an inkling of desire at his words, but he’s not giving you much choice in the matter as he let’s his scent and pheromones permeate the air around you and tricking your body into a false heat that has you needing him more than you’ve needed anything in your life prior. His hands drop to rip the fabric of your jeans down the seam, clearly not intending to waste time with ordering you to undress, the soldier knows you well enough by now to know that even in the needy haze he’s pushing you into you’ll still try to resist. He knows he can simply command you but that’s not what he wants. He wants you begging and pleading for his knot, and then he wants you to take everything he has to give you until you’re a whimpering and incoherent mess for him and only him. Your shirt follows swiftly, and he shows the same lack of care for your undergarments as he reduces them to scraps with no effort at all. It all happens so fast, and you barely have time to process it before you’re falling back against leaves and dirt as your body lands with a soft thud.

You have no time to gather yourself and scramble away before the Soldat is on top of you, pressing you into the soft earth as he claims your lips in a demanding and possessive kiss that steals the breath from your lungs. You want to push him away, but your hands grip tightly against his broad shoulders and you don’t break away until you feel the dull cramp that has you hissing in pain. You know that if this was a true heat the pain would be worse, but that does little to make you want to resist the alpha that’s slotted himself between your spread thighs.

“Stop fighting me, котенок.” He lifts one of your wrists to his lips, letting his teeth scrape over the sensitive flesh there and it has you whining and squirming under him. He simply smirks, scenting you then, letting his and yours mingle. From the first moment he’s caught your scent he’s been obsessed, it’s a scent that is distinctly warm cinnamon, vanilla, and something sweet that he can’t place but he knows it uniquely you. He wants to possess it, wants to possess you in every way he can and he won’t rest until he does.

“Pl-please I—” It’s a stronger cramp of pain that cuts you off and makes you want to curl into the fetal position. Briefly it makes you wonder if this isn’t a false heat after all despite your mind telling you otherwise.

“Shh, I know, kitten. I know, you need me don’t you? It hurts more and more when you try to deny me.” He coos, and you know that’s not entirely true, but it’s just true enough that you nod as tears finally spring free and you break. You hate this feeling, and you want it to stop. You want the relief that only he can give you even if you know that the price he’ll demand for it will bond you to him. It’s a dirty and cruel trick, but the Winter Soldier has never played fair, and he’s had his sights set on you for far too long. His fingers dance along your slick folds, and just his touch alone causes the smallest bit of relief in you. It doesn’t last long, and soon he has exactly what he wants from you as you plead with him to make the discomfort and pain you’re feeling go away. He chuckles under his breath, his hand leaving you just long enough for him to undo his pants, and work the tactical gear half way down his thighs.

You can’t help but glance down, eyes wide and suddenly you’re all too aware of what’s happening and that you should be trying to get away. You try to push yourself up enough so you can scramble away, but he’s faster than you and forces you back with one hand while the other hitches your leg against his hip. “Where you going, huh? ‘m not even in you yet and you’re running from my dick.” He taunts you, and you want to tell him that there’s no way he’ll fit but the hand that he places around your throat silences your protests. “Maybe if you hadn’t put up so much of a fight I’d have stretched you out first, but don’t worry kitten…” He leans in, close enough that you can feel his breath tickling against your mating gland while his other hand lines him up with your entrance. “I’ll make it fit.”

He pushes forward then, the swollen tip of his cock breaching your entrance and making you cry out loud enough that he feels the need to apply enough pressure to your throat to cut off the sound. He doesn’t need someone hearing your screams and coming to investigate, not that he isn't prepared to deal with it if they do. The soldier ruts into you, his pace rough and you know it’s his way of getting you back for the dirty tricks you pulled in the house when you were trying to evade him. Tears spill down your cheeks, it’s a mixture of defeat, relief, and pleasure that’s making them fall. You want to hate him for doing this, but even as his thick cock is splitting you open almost painfully around his girth, you know that with anyone else, you’d never feel anything close to what he’s making you feel in this moment. It hurts but it’s the type of hurt that you like, and you can feel your walls gripping around him so tight that it has him hissing out a string of curses and praise at how he knew all this time that you would feel good wrapped around him.

You feel like he's trying to fuck you into the earth itself, each thrust hard and brutal as he claims you for the first time. You'd scream if it weren't for him fucking you so hard that your voice has given out temporarily. Your nails claw at him through the leather jacket he still wears, scrambling over him until they meet the bare skin of his ass and they sink in and drag harshly over him. The soldier hisses through clenched teeth, growling in your face when you do it again and find yourself lifting your hips to meet his rough rhythm. "I hate you." You moan, the words choked out through the grip he has on your throat.

“Fuck, kitten. You might, but your body doesn't." He taunts, a toothy grin on his lips as he ruts into you harder and for a moment your vision whites out as slick gushes from you. "Keep grippin’ me just like that.” He grunts, with a slight shift in the angle of his hips that has you seeing stars when the tip of his cock finds that spongy spot inside you. You scream, and the sound is ruined by the hand that he has squeezing around your throat. Still he knows he's found that sweet spot, and he zeroes in on it with each thrust. His thrusts become harder, his cock practically spearing into you as he picks up pace and sends you spiraling over the edge of blissful ecstasy faster than you can process. Your body clamps down around him, and it does nothing to stop his frantic thrusting. He only hauls you up with him as he leans back onto his haunches and settles you astride his lap. The shift causes him to sink deeper and all you can manage to do is cling to him as your whimpering cries muffle into the side of the alpha’s neck.

“You’re mine, ‘mega.” He declares, and you purr in pleasure, unable to fend off that primal instinct of yours to agree. “Say it.” He demands, and even though it’s not an alpha command you still feel compelled to give him what he wants.

You wish you can say you were stronger than your most primal urges and that you really did hate him like you claimed just moments prior. You can't though, and your resistance to given in finally dies with a keening whine of needy pleasure. “Yours, alpha.” It’s said with a moan, and you can feel the rumble in his chest as he growls out his approval at your submission. Hearing you acknowledge him by designation only making him feel near feral and his possessiveness of you grows tenfold that he can’t stop himself from yanking your head to the side to further expose your mating gland. You have all of a second before you can feel his teeth biting down, and breaking the skin there as he marks you as his and bonds you to him. You gasp, crying out as your body goes taut against him and the act that he’s just committed forces you over the edge again as a fresh wave of slick seeps from you.

The bond is wide open, and fresh and it’s overwhelming as you feel his emotions and feelings come rushing in. There’s hunger, and possessiveness, and undercurrent of anger and while you recognize that it isn’t at you it still frightens you. There’s also want, and need. A desire to protect you, and provide for you. Most surprisingly you can just detect something else buried under all that and everything else that’s flooding in. There’s a sliver of fear and it has you feeling confused for a moment before the moment shatters with the sound of the Soldat's voice.

“Now you really are.” He growls, and you can smell the coppery tang of your blood in the air as he laps at the mark he’s left. You’ll be sore once the endorphins wear off, the bite he’s left behind is deep and shows the certainty of the alpha that it belongs to. There’s no mistaking that you’ve been claimed or that you belong to him now.

A moment later you can feel him inside you, his knot swelling and making you see stars again as his hot seed is shot deep into you. You squirm at the sensation, gasping at the feeling of fullness when you try to move. Carefully the soldier maneuvers himself into a proper sitting position with you still straddling him and filled with his cock as the swell of his knot remains. You know that sooner rather than later the blissful high will wear off and you’ll be left to grapple with your new reality, but for now you happily bury your face into the crook of his neck and try not to think of the fact that two years of running has been brought to an end.

[buckybarnesdiaries]

casablanca

first part — second part

© credits to the author, i found it on pinterest. if you are the author, please send me a message to add your @.

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

request by anon: Hi hi hello, I've a request night be a tad much but up to you to judge, reader is a fellow avenger and gets severely hurt and when Bucky finds her after a battle he's scared she might not make it and there's a lot of "please don't leave me/I can't lose you" and such, pretty please maybe? 👉👈

word count: 884 words.

warnings/tags: angst, mention of blood.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

You were lying in the wet ground, sunk in the mud, with not enough strength to move a finger. You coughed the last time you tried to ask for help, choking on your own blood flooding your throat. Your whole life was playing in front of your eyes turned into one of those bad comedy movies everybody hates but can’t stop watching it. The three holes hosting the untraceable bullets burnt in your chest. You couldn’t describe the agony you were through at that exact moment. Not only by knowing that you were going to die alone under the cold rain, but all the things you were going to miss.

That agent of Hydra took you by surprise, being more stealthy than even himself expected. He shot you in the back, but he was too far for the ammunition to cross your anatomy, being stuck within your organs. And you didn’t know what could be worse. A slow death to give you hope to be found, despite the suffering and the torture, or a quick death not having any chance but skipping that nightmare. In the end, not even Stark could help you to heal from two bullets in the right lung and another in the shoulder blade. He could keep you alive for a couple of days maybe, but at what cost? At the cost of seeing everyone around you begging you to be strong, to continue fighting? You wish you could survive one second more, but life was abandoning your life bit by bit, while behind you the blood mingled with the mud.

You were cold. Your teeth were rattling. The pain was disappearing progressively as your eyelids rolled down. Not even when you heard the noisy engineers from your ship, you were able to open them again. The tiredness was taking control over your body and you were accepting it was your time to go. The amount of blood you had lost was probably irreplaceable, meaning nothing how quick your squad was.

He practically jumped from the ship, running faster than ever in his life. He didn’t even know when he started to cry. Bucky kneeled on the ground to hold you onto his arms and raise you with all the care he could have in a moment like that. He had seen a lot of people dying in different ways, mostly because he killed them. But this was different. You were everything he had now, losing you wasn’t an option. James was about to collapse when he managed to lie you on your stomach on the stretcher that Stark and Banner prepared for you. The silence inside the ship was shattering, only interrupted by the heartbreaking crying from the soldier, not loosening the grip on your left hand.

“C’mon, doll… Don’t do this to me”. He sobbed pressing his lips on your forehead, while the others were cutting your uniform to find the bullets stuck in your back. “Please… Ple— Please, bear it a little longer”.

Nobody around them wanted to say anything about the fact that they didn’t know you two were this close, being the first time seeing and hearing Bucky this desolated. They were used to his grumpy mood, his staring in silence. But when you were alone, it was quite the opposite. He was kindly, playful, loving, and sweet. It was something that continued surprising himself, it was too easy to be like that with you, tho. And watching you dying... It had been by far the most painful moment of his life. He’d prefer one hundred years serving Hydra again than not spend a second more with you. Just a second. He’d pay that price more than gladly.

The first bullet was easy to remove from your shoulder, but Banner and Stark exchanged worried gazes when it came to the other two puncturing the lung. It was a big deal. They had nothing to lose, if you had to die, at least they’d try it till the end. Natasha sprang into action, being an expert with those kinds of untraceable bullets and the damage they could make, while Bruce started to monitor your vital signs at the same time he supplied you morphine and anesthesia.

“Don’t… Don’t leave me, ple— please”. Bucky begged once and again, kneeling close to you, spreading wet kisses because of his tears everywhere he could. “Y’know… You promise me… to watch Casablanca together. We have a lot of things… to do. So, please… please… keep breathing”.

“Buck… Hey, Buck… Com’ere, let them work”. Steve placed a hand on his half metal, half flesh to make him stand up, but he slapped it.

“NO!”

The soldier was determined to not abandon your side, giving them enough room to continue with the improvised surgery. He needed to give you all his strength, even silently praying to God for your life as he had never done before, not having a single idea of what else to do. Placing his warm hand on the back of your neck, James fixed his forehead to yours, crying louder as he thought for a second you weren’t breathing anymore.

“You can’t leave me… You can’t, (Y/N)... You're the only thing I have now...” He whined in murmurs, trying to not pay attention to the constant beep coming from a device behind his back.

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[love-hatred-stuff]

Villain's girl } Im Changkyun [monsta x]

genre: royal/soldier au, vampire au

warning(s): mentions of war(indirect), kind of kidnapping

word count: 1.9k

He, he was perfect, but I just wasn't ready to get involved with him.

I knew I would regret it because we needed each other. But he just hurt me too much. No, actually I really didn't care about myself. Still, I ran away from him again, probably the most unnecessary decision of my life. The only thing that stood in my way was my fear of the gilding of his life. I simply wasn't worth it, was I?

before:...

I was lying on a green meadow that was on a mountain. Hundreds of Lisianthus flowers had grown next to me. I loved them, their scent, their colors and also their sizes. They had a calm effect on me because I had known them since my short childhood.

I've been looking after myself since I was ten years old. My parents? Probably dead. They had left me for a reason unknown to me, but I hadn't thought about it for a long time, because it had racked my mind for the next thirteen years after they disappeared.

Now I was lying here and as far as I knew it was my birthday that day. I couldn't exactly remember that date, but I had celebrated it over and over again on the same day for a long time.

It wasn't a big deal to me as it wouldn't change anything in my life but I was finally eighteen.

The sun had just started to rise, but I wanted to start the day like this, with a quiet hour on my favorite meadow in the morning sun that smiled at me. Unfortunately she was the only one who did that.

Often times I would lie there all night and watch the stars. I was more than lonely, for many years I hadn't met anyone except soldiers who attacked and burned villages, as well as my house eight years ago.

I lost my parents, my house, my food and everything else I owned. Even if it wasn't much, my already small property shrunk even more. But I had to take it for what I was, what I was trying to do.

Despite my health, which had kept up well, I had thoughts of suicide several times. Jumping off a cliff is, eating any branches and herbs. And after a few temptations, I gave up. I couldn't do that to myself yet.

As slowly as possible, I got up to look for something to eat. I didn't really liked to go hunting because I was very fond of animals and hated to hurt them, so I mostly ate berries or mushrooms.

Except once a week, I took my bow with arrow to get me a hearty meal.

When I finally got up on my two legs, I ran and went to my hut, which I had built a long time ago from branches and bushes.

I was there in no time, but something bothered me. Everything was still in its place, but I could make out a musty smell of smoke, which made me cringe.

I looked around silently and indeed, about half a mile away, a huge gray cloud was making its way through the trees.

My heart pounded alarm and without thinking twice, I sprinted in the opposite direction from which the possible fire was coming.

At the moment I didn't care about my growling stomach, nor my hut.

After a while of running I could hear voices in the direction I was walking towards.

I slowly walked slowly in order to be able to listen to every sound, no matter how small. But suddenly a soldier was standing in front of me who looked at me with a grin. I was wearing only a thin, white, yet dirty dress that hung airily up to my knees.

Uncomfortable, that's how I felt. I had never had closer contact with men, how could I (?).

"Well, who do we have here?" The soldier mockingly said.

I just widened my eyes, not to mention my mouth, which had been open since I saw him.

After a short time, more and more soldiers came and looked at me, but I was frozen. People were so fascinating but at the same time so nauseating. The soldier, who was still grinning stupidly at me, stepped closer and grabbed my hand.

"The little one must have forgotten how to speak. But she is breathtakingly beautiful. Take a look at her, guys!" He asked his men to examine me too, which is why they all took a few steps closer.

"Hey!" I heard it from not far away, in the woods.

The one whose voice it was now also ran towards me, which made me take some steps back.

"Don't touch her! She's an innocent one!" The soldier who was now standing in my immediate vicinity.

Fortunately for me, he now attracted the attention that had been on me. He pushed the others away from me, who then stumbled backwards. Then he grabbed my wrist and I felt a heat rise in me instantly, it was a completely new feeling.

I looked into a prominent face with defined cheekbones, which made him look very masculine to me. He looked like someone that could be royal, naturally beautiful.

He looked at me out of his intense brown eyes in which I could have lost myself in, in a matter of seconds.

He raised his hand, pushed a strand of hair out of my face and touched my cheek in the process. All I could do was to stay still like a statue and admire his figure.

His dark black hair that was a little messed up and some strands also graced his face.

A cold but pleasant shiver ran down my spine from his touch. I was fascinated by his looks, it seemed like he looked like a friendly devil. Although his features seemed absolutely flawless, he radiated a dark aura. I couldn't see it but I could sense it. He also had broad shoulders from which two muscular arms protruded. He was looking like a God next to me.

"She really is quite acceptable. Nevertheless, she has to come with me." He pulled me by the arm to the horses, which were not far away at a campsite.

Damn. I should have run faster, now I have to go with them if I don't get a chance to get out of here. I blamed myself silently.

The men were in the majority and clearly superior to me.

The Soldier's grin was quite strong and even when we were already in one of the tents, he was still holding onto my arm tightly. After we I hissed in pain.

Besides all that, I was still totally in shock as it was my first close contact with people in many years.

Suddenly he stopped and took a close look at my body, me not really thinking anything, because I first had to get used to people's behavior and body language.

With his gaze he stopped where he had gripped me tightly to probably prevent me from running away, but slowly the pressure got too big and hurt. Immediately he let go, but he took a closer look at the now yellow spots that adorned my arm.

They weren't the only wounds I had, I kept getting injured and accordingly had blood wounds or scratches all over the place. We were alone in the tent and he finally broke the silence.

"Who did this to you?" He asked, pointing to my wounds, like the blood stain on my dress, over my stomach. At first I didn't know what he meant but then I understood. He meant if I had been hurt by someone else.

"Nobody." I answered clearly and looked up into his wonderful eyes that flashed at me.

"What's your name?" Was his next question.

"Y/n. I think." I guessed to myself.

My name had never been relevant, but I still had vague memories from my childhood and how I was often addressed by that name back then. In the other moment, his gaze softened. He put a strand behind my ear again, as he had earlier. My attention went to his full lips which he twisted into a small grin.

“You are beautiful, Y/n. You will be mine I promise it. Nobody's going to get you." He said with determination.

What did he say? Was that just a compliment? If so, then they sound really nice, but actually I didn't really know what they meant to me. Although I could speak his language fluently and had a good vocabulary to choose from, I wasn't up to date.

"What do you mean?" I was taught to ask when you didn't understand someone, so I did just that.

"Means that we will take you to the palace where you can be sold." He suddenly changed his face and removed his hand from my cheek where it had lingered for a moment.

He had just changed his mind from one second to the other. He wanted me to be his and complimented me, so what now? Now he just wanted to drag me along and let me get sold? Great, I probably wouldn't find a way out on all these soldiers.

"But, to whom should I be sold?" If it was to my advantage I would accept it, then I would no longer be alone and would finally be among people who were equal to me.

"To some rich snob." He simply replied.

I was surprised at his sudden change of heart, but it was the chance for me to finally escape this hole. It had made me sink deeper and deeper until that point. I was redeemed.

"You have to change. We'll stay here one more night before we leave." He stepped away from me and took a white dress down from a kind of drawer, to give it to me afterwards.

A little baffled, I stood there and took the soft fabric towards me. It was soft and embroidered with small flowers.

"Thanks, where should I change and where should I sleep?" I asked briefly.

"Change here. There's a bed back there, behind the curtain. You will sleep with me, I don’t want you to run away." He answered less summarily.

Only after a short moment I could understand what he wanted from me. He was still standing right in front of my feet and looking down at me.

"So I'm supposed to change here and now?" I asked with disbelief in my voice.

"Yes, you should." He persisted.

I suspected he wouldn't give in, so I told him to at least turn around. Then he innocently raised his hands to shoulder height and obeyed my request. When he let his hands fall again, I pushed my dirty dress off my body, which meant that I stood in front of him, completely bare for a moment. Fortunately, he was standing with his back turned to me. But even if not, I would probably have obeyed, because I didn't know whether I corresponded to the typical image of women and had never had unpleasant situations like this before. That's why I never had a reason to be ashamed of my body. But as I stood in front of him I realized how important it actually was to be able to see someone like that.

I quickly slipped into the fresh dress, which clung to my thin body and my delicate curves. It actually looked very pretty, but I could hardly judge it because I still had no taste for fashion.

"You can turn around." I wanted to point out, but my words got stuck in my throat when I noticed that he had already turned around.

I had focused on my dress the whole time and trusted it. Obviously this was a mistake.

-to be continued-

[yesttoheaven]

AMOR FATI

pairing – neil x female!reader

wc – 3.8k

warnings – mention of death, self-blame, anxious/intrusive thoughts, questioning reality, refusal of help, guns, stalking, but I swear there's a light at the end of the tunnel haha

a/n – The last time I suffered so hard for the death of a character, was when Newt died (Maze Runner) and now Neil has captured all my attention and his death has hit me in the same way 😩 I needed a happy ending so I decided to write this!

The Eternal Return and Amor Fati mentioned in this fic are one of the main ideas of Nietzsche's philosophy.

English is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors.

Y/N – your name

She approached the painting hanging on the wall, watching the details closely. Ouroboros. A serpent eating its own tail. Months ago, when Y/N was visiting an antique store in Mumbai, she saw that same symbol. The owner of the establishment approached when she realized her interest in the piece and explained that Ouroboros represents the ideas of movement, continuity and, in consequence, Eternal Return. A concept that the universe and all existence and energy has been recurring, and will continue to recur, in a self-similar form an infinite number of times across infinite time or space.

"Max finally fell asleep." Kat returned to the living room, attracting Y/N's attention.

She walked away from the painting, taking back her seat on the sofa and asked:

"How is he after everything that happened?"

For a moment, Kat looked at the painting on the wall and then at the friend she won in the midst of confusion over the Algorithm. At that time, despite being fighting on the front lines to prevent a possible Third World War, Y/N seems complete. Happy. Today that happiness no longer exists in her eyes.

Letting out a sigh, the woman sat next to her, answering:

"Sator was never a present father. He was always busy... now i can see the kind of work he was involved in. Anyway, Max just got used to his absence."

"It's notable that he's happier at your side. When we first met Max was a bit of an introvert, but today he is radiant." Y/N confessed, showing a small smile and the blonde shook her head, agreeing with her words. "How's everything?"

"Perfectly well. It's weird sometimes... After years of being stuck in a failed relationship, freedom is good."

"It seems like life is good for one of us." The woman let out a bitter laugh, putting the latest events on a scale, but she didn’t want her friend to think she wasn’t happy for her. She really was. "I'm sorry, I just..." The words remain stuck in her throat, while she covers her face with her hands. In addition to physical and mental fatigue, Y/N tried to hide her grief.

Kat touched her shoulder, showing that she was here.

"I know you're hurt, but it's been three months and you never talked about what happened that day... This is not good for you."

"What do I have to say, Kat? The guy I fell in love with was a fucking time traveler! And now he's dead and I don't know what to do. My life just... stopped without him."

"I can imagine how difficult it's for you to cross that line without Neil at your side, but giving up is not an option. Grief is consuming you little by little and you are just accepting it..."

"We are trained to contain our emotions and deal with death in the best possible way. It used to be easy for me, but then he came and turned my life upside down." Y/N put her hands on her knees and stood up, walking without an exact destination. "Neil was always one step ahead of us all..." She stepped forward too and found the painting again, but her mind was lost in thoughts about him. Neil knew her so well. And he had a charming smile, but completely arrogant at the same time. "I was sent to Mumbai to help two agents and when I arrived at Priya's penthouse that night, there he was. When he saw me, that was the first and only time that he let his guard down. I'll never forget how he looked at me, it was one of those breathtaking moments... Completely cliché, I know."

On the sofa, Kat was impressed. When Y/N turned towards her, there was a bright smile on her face. The simple memory brought her a breath of happiness and Kat enjoyed seeing her friend like that, but unfortunately that moment did not last long. Memories aren't enough. Neil is dead and nothing can change that.

"I miss him so much, Kat." The smile disappeared as soon as tears appeared in her eyes, cascading down her cheeks.

"My dear..." Worried about her, the woman got up quickly and approached Y/N, wrapping her in a tight hug. "I'm really sorry."

"I spent the last three months locked up in my a-apartment because I thought I could handle this situation on my own. At times I b-believed it was just a fever dream... Maybe I was losing my mind, but this is proof that everything was real." Through tears blurring her vision, she looked at the watch on her wrist, remembering that night.

Y/N was in a private cabin on the ship. The others were with Ives and Wheeler, going over the mission in search of any loose ends. A standard procedure. Y/N knew she should be with them, but she needed a moment alone to organize her thoughts. And that moment is now. The past few weeks had been a real mess. The inversion was difficult to explain and mainly to understand. She was used to field missions, but being an inverted soldier on the battlefield was not in her plans. Either way, she agreed to be a part of it and running away with biased assumptions was not going to help. Humanity depends on them.

Three knocking on the door caught Y/N's attention, but she remained silent, waiting for the person to give up and leave, but when it didn't, she just murmured 'Come in'.

"So, here you are." The man used a surprised tone of voice and closed the door behind him. "What will our superior think when he learns that you are running away from the briefing?"

She let out a laugh before answering in the same mood:

"Don't worry, I know this mission like the back of my hand. I just needed a moment."

"There's something wrong? Are you ok?" Neil spilled the questions quickly, visibly concerned for her.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Neil." Y/N smiled at him, but looked away just seconds later, confessing: "Maybe I'm a little surprised by the situation. I have spent years dealing with terrorists, but the inversion is really not my point."

"I'm not good with advice, but someone once said to me: Don't try to understand. Certain things in the world do not need an explanation."

"It's wise advice, but I'm a methodical person. Logic has always been my ally in missions."

"A methodical person, huh?" He asked with an arrogant smile playing on his lips and she just rolled her eyes. "I know how worried you were when Sator shot Kat, but we are using the inversion to save the world and you're one of the most brilliant agents I have ever seen. Everything will be fine."

"Are you praising me?"

"What's that? Can't I praise my partner's talent?" Neil pulled up a chair to sit across from her, crossing his arms.

"In that case, thank you. Remind me to put this on my resume." Those words made him laugh and that sound could easily be compared to music in her ears.

Touching her knee, Neil added:

"We are very confident with the mission. You don't need to worry."

"Are you sure?"

"I cannot say that unforeseen events do not happen, but we are prepared for that." Y/N knew he was right, but this mission is the biggest one so far. It's not about saving a country. It's about saving the entire world. This was arousing insecurities in her and it was like walking in a minefield. Ironically, she was familiar with this, but not in such catastrophic proportions. "I want you to have this." The man took his watch off his wrist and handed it to her.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" The question came out as a whisper from between her lips.

It didn't make sense. Why does everything in this conversation look like a farewell?

"We will be on opposite sides tomorrow, but i want you to know... I will always be with you, Y/N."

"I saw the way he looked at you... That's how I used to look at Sator before he became a monster in my life." Kat started, running a hand through Y/N's hair. "When I was lying on that stretcher and partially drugged with the medicines, I saw him beside you... watching you sleep. There was so much love in his eyes. Love for a lifetime, Y/N. So don't do this to yourself. The way he left hurt us all, but there was nothing you or any other agent could do to change what happened at Stalask-12. Neil saved the world. This gave us a second chance. You cannot give up now. This organization needs you. And keeping your mind busy at that moment is the first step towards a fresh start."

"N-No, I can't..." She broke the hug, shaking her head in denial. "I left the organization."

"What? Don't you work for Tenet anymore? But when we first met you told me that you can't imagine working in another area... And that this is your life's work."

"Being an agent is my life's work. I was in Yemen when Tenet found me and assigned me to this mission. My only job is to make this world a less hostile place, but the motto of this organization is not what I believe, Kat. What's happened's happened. Really? It doesn't work for me." Y/N ended the sentence with drops of anger in her voice and Kat did not say a single word.

Through the newspapers, Max's mother followed what was happening in Yemen over the years – a real endless war – and knowing that Y/N was in the middle of it, makes the situation unquestionable. People died in front of her eyes. Friends of the corporation. And then some time later, Tenet arrived with a fresh start, but in the end everything remained the same. She lost Neil. It is as if her life's work never had a happy ending because the world will never stop being a hostile place.

"He knows?" It was easy for Y/N to identify who she was talking about. The Protagonist. Or just TP.

"Here's another problem. I worked with him and indirectly worked for him at the same time! God, that man created this organization! And his name remains a mystery to us all!" She pinched the tip of her nose, feeling frustrated with all the secrets that haunt this organization. "And answering your question, yes, he knows, but he did not argue about it. I was a complete mess and he was not doing very well either... He stayed in my apartment for the first month, probably to make sure I didn't do anything stupid." And Y/N would be forever grateful for that. She likes him. Just as friends, of course. TP was a reserved man, but it was he who held her when everything was falling apart. "But we've had a fight. I blamed him for what happened at Stalask-12 and since then we haven't spoken anymore."

It was easy to see that they carried more pain than they could actually bear. Y/N lost her great love and the man lost his best friend. The situation just turned into a conflict between them and that was the result.

Realizing the sadness reflected in Y/N's eyes, Kat decided to change the subject of the conversation. Keeping that thought, she smiled and pointed to the painting on the wall. Maybe that could help.

"You seemed interested in this one."

"Oh yes, in my spare time I am a lover of art and its meanings. It is really attractive the way Ouroboros is connected to the Eternal Return..."

"And Amor Fati too." Kat completed, piquing Y/N's curiosity. This part was new to her. "It's impossible to affirm the Eternal Return without loving life. We need to learn that things happen as they do. Sometimes seemingly good. Sometimes seemingly bad. We don’t always get it our way... Unless we choose that whatever way it is, is our way. When we choose to Amor Fati, to love everything that happens, to love our fate, then we will always get it our way. Because the way it is, is the way it is. Unchangable. And therefore it must be good, even if it sucks."

These words touched Y/N's heart. This was a contradiction to what she is experiencing right now. Love your fate. She would like to understand and accept what happened, she really wanted, but why is it so difficult to move on?

Because Neil is dead.

That was the only explanation for her. The end of a relationship would be more acceptable. If he were alive, things would be completely different now. However, grief is overwhelming. How could she just accept what happened?

"I... I gotta go." That was all she managed to say before picking up her bag and leave the penthouse, ignoring Kat's protests.

When the elevator doors closed, an exhausted sigh left her mouth and the instant she saw her reflection in the mirror, Y/N wanted to cry again. After three months alone, she thought visiting her friend would be a good idea. Kat was willing to help, but the problem was that Y/N is not allowing herself to be helped. As soon as the doors opened, she left the metal box and found the hotel lobby partially empty. Her watch showed it was 3:13 AM, this explains the absence of people on the street as well. In front of her car, she searched the bag for the key and coincidentally her cell phone started to vibrate. Probably the text messages were from Kat, but confusion hit Y/N the instant she looked at the identifier and saw that the messages did not belong to any of her contacts.

Stay away from the car

They put a bomb

I'm on my way

Her first reaction was to take a few steps back and look around, trying to understand what’s going on and find the person responsible for these texts, but Y/N was alone in the dark street. When she thought it might be an unnecessary prank, a black SUV approached at high speed. The car stopped just a few meters away from where she was, but that was enough to make her body freeze.

"Y/N, come on!" The man exclaimed, the urgency in his voice would have made her run immediately, but she didn't move. Her feet had frozen on the floor. This cannot be real. "Come on, get in the car! We don't have much time!" He tried again, it was possible to hear the sound of the other cars approaching.

Y/N watched in slow motion the moment he left the car and ran towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"How is this possible?" She asked in a whisper, completely lost in his blue eyes.

"It's good to see you too." Neil admitted, feeling his heart race. She looked so fragile in his arms. Very different from the last time he saw her. "We have to go." He accompanied her to the car and as soon as Y/N took the passenger seat, he returned to his seat.

For her this moment was like a fever dream, so she just looked down and started counting her fingers. One, two, three, four, five... Neil noticed, but said nothing, just kept driving. The cars were fast approaching, but he would do everything possible and impossible to get Y/N away from these people.

"Give me your cell phone." He looked at her for a brief moment, but when Y/N didn’t react, he wasn't sure if she heard it, so he just took the phone from her hand and threw it out the window. That was enough to get her out of the numbness:

"What the fuck, Neil?!"

Despite the adrenaline rushing through his body, the man laughed.

"If I found you because of your cell phone, they can too." After that, he crossed the red light and made a risky turn, trying to end this chase. "Before you ask, no, this is not a dream. Unfortunately this is very real..." Neil didn't like what he saw when he adjusted the rearview mirror. "And now they are getting ready to shoot us."

That observation put Y/N on alert and she looked back, seeing a man with an AKS-74U and another with a Beretta M12.

"If you knew it wasn't a dream, why didn't you bring an armored car?" She ran her tongue between her lips, smiling at the man beside her. Neil tried to argue, but she just took off her seat belt and picked up the Glock 19 stuck in the vest he was wearing.

Y/N crawled out of the car and sat at the window opening. This encouraged the men in the two cars to start shooting, trying desperately to hit her. Neil shouted something that she couldn't understand and then she felt one of his hands on her thigh, giving her stability to continue with the plan. With her arm resting on the roof of the vehicle, Y/N aimed the gun at the car that was closest to them. Her intention was not to start a firefight in the middle of one of the main avenues in the city, but she had no other option. Holding her breath, she fired the first shot and the bullet hit the tire, taking the car out of circulation. Y/N celebrated while preparing for the second car, but dealing with this one was not an easy task. Now they were in a tunnel and, consequently, losing speed because of the other cars that came along the way. Neil left two pats on her leg, indicating that she had better get back in the car and that is what she did. Screams, honks and gunshots echoed through the tunnel, turning the place into a war zone. Whoever these men were, Y/N knew they weren't going to give up.

Tired of playing cat and mouse, she went to the back seat, getting on her knees. Through the broken glass above the trunk, Y/N adjusted the aim of her gun, ignoring the sniper and focusing on the driver. With another accurate shot, the bullet hit the man's chest and he lost control of the vehicle. The car overturned for a while, streaking the asphalt, but no other car was involved in the accident. Y/N sighed in relief and looked for another possible threat, just checking, but when she realized that the area was clean, she returned to the passenger seat, leaving the gun on the dashboard in front of her.

"Next time I'm going to get an armored car." Neil comments, stepping on the gas. "Nice shot, by the way."

"Anytime." Y/N smiled, trying to control her breathing.

With the adrenaline disappearing from her body, it was hard for her to believe that this was really happening. For many nights she cried, wondering what it would be like if Neil just came back to her, but now she was afraid to wake up and realize that it was just another vivid dream.

The sun was rising when they arrived in a shed away from the city. Seen from the outside, the place was a little scary, but the interior wasn't that bad. There was some equipment like trackers, walkie-talkie, bulletproof vests, weapons, ammunition; a table with a mess of papers and on the other side two beds and something that Y/N supposed to be a private bathroom.

"Where we are?"

We. That simple word echoed in her mind. Y/N thought that "we" didn't exist anymore.

"For now in a safe place. It's dangerous for you out there." He answered the question and took a bottle of water, handing it to her after taking a generous sip.

"Who are these people, Neil?" She wanted answers, lots of answers, and that frustrated the british spy because for the first time he didn't know what could happen.

Neil had a mission and that mission ended with him dying in Stalask-12, but after what TP did, everything changed.

"We have a name..." He wanted to say more, he wanted to reassure her, but that was all he had at the moment.

Y/N drank some water and left the bottle on the table, looking at some reports and photos. All photos were of the same man.

Lenard Vaher

"But apparently they don't just want you..."

It took a few seconds and when the realization hit Y/N, concern appeared on her face.

No, not him.

"Where's TP? He's safe, right?"

"He was going to see you when Lenard's men kidnapped him. This happened three weeks ago." And considering the anger in Neil's voice, finding TP was proving an almost impossible task, but in the midst of so much concern, one point attracted Y/N's attention.

"You said he was going to see me..."

"There was something he needed to tell you." Neil sighed, resting his hands on the table. A few strands of blond hair fell over his forehead, but he quickly shook his head back, as he always did. "He returned to Stalask-12, Y/N."

After that statement, the only sound that could be heard was Neil's footsteps closing the distance between them and the first thing she did was put her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Neil smiled. And that was not one of his famous smiles. That was a shy smile. His heart was beating like a drum and it was all because of her. Loving Y/N was something so special and pure, that Neil accepted his fate without a second thought. Saving the world, he was giving her a second chance to live, but now he is the one who received a second chance.

"I missed you every day." Before she could begin to consider the meaning behind his words, he settled his mouth upon hers, robbing her of thought.

She closed her eyes and melted against him, flattening her hands on his arms. Neil caught her bottom lip in his teeth, nibbling and licking at it until she thought she might perish from the intensity of the feeling. She whimpered at the sensation, and he rewarded the sound by deepening the kiss, giving her everything she desired. His tongue stroked hers, slow and insistent. A lush, decadent pleasure unfolded within them, snaking through their veins as though it had lain coiled in anticipation for years.

Just waiting for this moment.

––––––––––––––––––––––––

a/n – really hope you enjoy it and thank you soooo much for reading ;)

[moonlightflower21]

ease my mind

a/n: angst. mentions of death. stabbings. all that good stuff. also includes mafia turtles. might not make sense but people wanted to read it so 🤷‍♀️😂

but anyway, as calm and collected and stoic leo can be, he has his weak points. he isn't immune to panic attacks or bad thoughts. enjoy!

How could this have happened? His world felt like it had crumbled to the very ground, turned into dust and flown mockingly into the air. Reminding how useless he truly was.

Leonardo watched his brothers follow inside the living room, Raph grabbing an ice pack to cool the knife cut bleeding out on his bicep. Mikey winced as he got rid of his waistcoat, untying his tie and letting it hang limply. His shirt was stained more in red than white, indicating his wound was deeper than he originally thought. Yet none of them spoke a word, barely even glancing in the leaders direction.

Leonardo looked at his team, most specifically Raphael. He had been quiet which had certainly been unlike him. Raph was never one to show how angry he was, always giving his opinion regardless of the topic so the silence coming from him was deafening.

"You good?" Leo's voice was slightly shaky not used to his hot headed brother being so silent about the obvious fail they just encountered.

Dark amber eyes connected with his and Leo didn't need to be a genius to know there was fury brewing behind those honeyed irises. Taking a breath in, he opened his mouth to say something but he noticed something else swirling into those eyes. Defeat.

"I'm sorry about.... You know I had-" "Fuck ya. That's.... all I gotta say ta ya. Yer really got some nerve ta put this on someone else. Get one thing straight, we're not indestructible. Not me or ya or Don or Mikey. But why am I wastin my breath on ya? Whatever I tell ya, yer just gonna go ahead and do the opposite. Like yer always do. And I'm gonna be the one ta help ya when yer run in ta issues. Like I always do" Raphael sneered, his hands in tight fists to control his temper. His tone was accusing, malicious towards Leo. And no one cane blame him.

"I'm not gonna bother waiting my time or energy bein' here. I can't do this no more" His harsh voice dropped to a whisper at the last sentence and he's not sure whether it's directed to his brother or to himself. He wanted to say something but nothing would be able to console how he's feeling tonight. Raph clenched his arm tightly, placing pressure in the damaged skin before pushing past his brother and to his own private room.

"Wait!" But the terrapin had left. Turning back to the rest of his team, Leo hoped he could explain what had happened. But their looks were cold and heartless.

Mikey stood tall, his stare in a hardened frown. He let out a small grunt, plastron burning with pain on his ride side.

"Look I'm-" "I've always stood by your decisions, always respected your commands and orders. But tonight was a fucking shit show and had you not lost focus, those innocent lives wouldn't have been taken. Some leader you are" Mikey scoffed, hands tingling with urges to beat the living shit out of someone. Leonardo stood, his brain unable to form comprehensible sentences to his answer. Was that how he truly felt?

"Mikey..." "Don't 'Mikey' me Leonardo. You were right after all. We may be brothers but we are not a team. Thank you for opening my eyes to that tonight" He snarled, a shaky breath as he applied too much pressure to his plastron. He swallowed hard, mind overflowing with poisonous thoughts suffocating his mind. Begging to be in a safe place but he couldn't find any. He didn't think he could ever feel safe anywhere. Not with his brothers or his family.

"Leave me alone. I have nothing to speak to you about, nor do I want to see your face tonight" Mikey uttered sharply, refusing to show any pain despite actively bleeding. He left in the other direction, retiring to his own personal chambers for the night. Leonardo gritted his teeth, trying to hold himself together. Trying to hold his composture together but it was dangerously close to crashing down. Maybe Donatello would listen. He was always good at reading people. Hopefully he could lend an ear before Leo's thoughts drive him insane.

"Don-" "I don't know what you wish to hear Leonardo. Me to say that it went good? That everything went well?? Raph nearly lost an arm, Mikey only has a new painful scar to his collection. You know how bad his plastron is damaged?? There's only so much that can be done to help it. And as for myself... well I'll let it speak for itself" Donnie lifted the side of his shirt, emitting a soft gasp from the eldest in absolute horror.

The wound was weeping, blood trickling down his abdomen soaking the rim of his pants. Leo's heart fell to the ground, his teeth sinking in his bottom lip to stop any vulnerability coming to light. Only know has it registered how much danger he had selfishly placed all his brothers in.

"But none of this matters to you does it? We're just soldiers to command, to help-" "That's not true Donatello!" Leo's voice came as a hoarse whisper, clenching his fingers tightly. Had his brother looked close enough, he would have seen Leonardo teetering off the edge of his sanity. The tremble in his body, the shaking of his arms despite how strong he stood, his eyes turning a deep blue emotionally overwhelmed.

"Isn't it?? Because the way I see it, you seem to have completely placed us at the sidelines. What happened to family? What happened to looking out for each other? What happened to your honour Leonardo?? These words you held with great pride are nothing but a jumbled mess of letters at your feet. If you cannot practise what you preach then I highly recommend you stop pretending otherwise. Excuse me, some of us have to help his family" Donatello frowned, walking past the blue cladded turtle to help his injured family members.

Leonardo's breath hitched, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes and spilling down quietly his cheeks. Honour, justice, family.... these words were for heros. Words for people that helped their country, he didn't do any of those things. He was a villain, killing himself slowly with his actions.

Moments like these reminded of his haunted childhood, how Splinter berating him for being worthless, how he would never accumulate to anything. Tonight those very words repeated like a record in his brain, unable to pause or freeze and he sat there listening to it all. Because it was true. He wasn't some warrior or a soldier, he was a mistake. And those horrible words ring in his head like an alarm, he didn't deserve to live.

Leo made questionable decisions tonight but his brothers didn't know how much burden he carried on his shoulders. He wouldn't forget those who passed tonight nor did he forget the injuries inflicted on his brother because of him. Was this how he wanted his life to be? Was this worth the pain and failures? And no matter how much those humans had wronged him, he swore to never turn like Splinter had done. Though now he could see himself follow in those very footsteps, heart twisted with evil and brutal thoughts.

They all lay heavy on his mind, constantly mocking and torturing of him of the leadership he once held with great importance and dedication. But now it started to disintegrate, proving his worst fear true that he was simply unable to protect his loved ones. That he couldn't even help himself. He could feel himself spiralling out of control and its times like these, he wished someone would hold him tight Ground him to reality, pushing those thoughts out of his body instead of laying low waiting to strike at his most weakest.

There he sat, sinking further and further into the pit of depair and self-hatred wondering if anyone could ever rescue him from this prison.

Wondering if he ever deserved to feel any happiness.

Wondering if he was better off being alone.

[aricazorel]

"Are you jealous?" "No...Maybe." suggested by @russian-dumpling

pairing: Kaidan Alenko x Rebecca Shepard; set during ME1; word count: 1759

Noveria was cold. There was no doubt about that. It was a planet full of constant snowstorms. Nearly an ice planet.

Just like Hoth, Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko thought, unable to help the Star Wars reference. He glanced up at the thick transparent steel windows above that kept the raging winter storm out and the heat in. At least it was warmer than the Rebel Base…

“Hey, Alenko! You still with us?” Shepard’s voice called from beside him.

He glanced over at his CO noting that Ashley and Garrus had disappeared. “Don't you mean you, ma'am?”

“Oh for crying out loud! Don't ma’am me when we're alone,” she chided, a hand on her hip.

“We're still on the job, Commander.”

“Kaidan, is there a reason you're always so formal?”

“Habit it, ma'am, and it keeps me out of trouble.”

“Trouble? You, Alenko? Never.”

The Lieutenant snorted. “You don't know everything about me, Shepard.”

“Not yet,” the red head smirked with a wink.

***

While waiting to meet up with Gianna Parasini, Shepard unsurprisingly had elected to visit a few of the shops for tech and weapons mods. In truth it was the weapons mods that the Commander was really interested in. She only mentioned the tech mods to entice the Sentinel to tag along. In reality she didn't need to bribe him with anything other than herself.

He knew shortly after the Eden Prime mission that he was in trouble. Romantic entanglements with anyone he served with had always been a no no in his book. Falling for a superior officer was definitely not something he had ever seen himself doing. Yet there it was or rather she was standing outside yet another shop staring at the display in the window.

The Lieutenant was definitely in trouble.

He'd once told her he liked adventurous women. Kaidan would be lying to himself he didn't admit that Shepard fit that description to a tee. And that taste in the opposite sex is what would land him in trouble by the end of their current mission. Especially if the glances she was throwing over her shoulder towards him were any indication of things to come.

And there it was. The flirting grin she'd shoot him when she thought no one was looking. Of course Ashley had caught glimpses of it and teased the fire out of him about it. Despite his misgivings about the feelings he knew he was developing for his CO, Kaidan returned the smile as she motioned for him to join her at the display window. And of course he did.

As the Lieutenant walked over to her, Shepard motioned to a cluster of omni tool mods and one very specific omni tool. His eyes lit up as she casually mentioned, “I can open a line of credit with this store. You know. Get the license for the Normandy’s requisition officer so we can access their inventory anytime we want.”

“Really? Alenko asked excitedly as he looked from the Logic Arrest omni tool to Shepard.

With the amused look on her face he couldn't be sure if she were serious or not. Remembering himself he said, “I shouldn't ask you to use Alliance resources or your Specter status just to get me a new ‘tool.”

“But you didn't ask, Kaidan. I offered,” she corrected as she entered the shop. “Besides they have weapons mods too.”

Alenko cocked an eyebrow as he followed. She was his CO, a fellow officer, a friend. Yet he couldn't help but think she might harbor some feelings beyond all of that for him just as he did for her. Should he say anything? Should he let her make the first move? Should he see how things played out?

He sighed as he watched a salesman approach Shepherd with a broad grin. There were regs against fraternization. They were on a mission to stop a rogue Specter and his synthetic army. There was no place for romance, yet his feelings remained.

In an effort to distract himself, he focused his attention on the Logic Arrest Shepard had pointed out. In truth he did need a new omni tool, especially with the current mission. A part of him however couldn't shake the feeling that if he had said yes just a few minutes ago he'd already have a new ‘tool instead of looking at it in the display.

Kaidan let out a low growl. He should be able to focus on things without his thoughts circling back to Shepard. On a mission, in combat, doing his duties. Those instances were too problematic to allow that. The only acceptable exception was if Shepard was in danger.

But his down time? Sure she was nice to look at, athletic, red hair, nice smile, gorgeous eyes, great personality, honest, compassionate, amazing sense of humor, humble, firm. Anyone would be lucky to be the focus of her attention. Yet in the reflection of the display glass he saw her glancing at him as the salesman went on about various mods for her weapons the other man had were noticed Specter issue.

Apparently her status as a Specter had made the rounds rather quickly. Of course salesman wanted to land a large purchase from her then. Either way the Lieutenant could have sworn he saw the Commander wink at him in the reflection before she turned her attention back to the very friendly salesman.

“I can see the Specters have outfitted their newest agent with the latest weapons. Of course you can never go wrong with modifications,” the blond-haired man said smoothly. “Surely having the best mods on the market would help keep your lovely self safe.

“They certainly wouldn't hurt,” Shepard replied an even tone.

“Well, what is your primary weapon?” the man asked. “Maybe your favorite?”

“Those are two different things,” Shepard smirked with her arms folded across her chest.

“Really? For most customers those are one in the same,” the blond man muttered.

“I'm not most customers,” the Commander assured him confidently.

“I see,” the salesman muttered as he opened his ‘tool, showing the inventory available. “Perhaps something for your assault rifle first. We can't have our first human Specter being mowed down by rogue Geth. Protection is everything especially for a beautiful woman such as yourself.”

Kaidan rolled his eyes at the man's blatant attempt to flirt with the Commander in order to make a sale. Fundamentally the Lieutenant knew why the other man was doing it but that didn't deter the desire to tell the man off for disrespecting his CO. If he was totally honest with himself he had to admit that it wasn't just the man's lack of professionalism that bothered him.

He shifted, resisting the urge to go to Shepard’s aid. If she needed help, she would say so.

“I have plenty of protection already,” Shepard said as she gestured towards him. “My Lieutenant over there is an accomplished soldier and biotic. He's covered my six more times than I can count.”

Kaidan knew he was smirking as he caught her eye in the reflection once again. Whether she had intended to or not she had just padded his ego though he would never admit that. “Biotics will only get you so far,” the salesman muttered, his mood souring much to Alenko's delight.

“Oh but you haven't seen the Lieutenant train with his biotics,” Shepard mused with a big grin. “It's …quite the sight.”

Kaidan knew he was blushing as the salesman said, “I can provide you with top-of-the-line weapons mods. I'm afraid I am not licensed for biotic amps.”

Shepard made a noise of acknowledgement before she said, “You know what? I think I'll take that Logic Arrest in the window…and any mod you have for it.”

“Oh well, what about the weapons mods? Surely you need –“

“I already have the most advanced. Me being a Specter and all. But my Lieutenant needs the best omni tool available,” she insisted as she turned to Kaidan.

“I understand but you are his superior. Doesn't that mean –“

“If you can't sell me what I want, I am sure another shop can,” the Commander interrupted as she walked over to the Lieutenant.

“No. No. I can accommodate that,” the salesman said conceding that his sale to the first human Specter would not be as large as he originally thought.

Kaidan couldn't help the shit-eating grin as the salesman was forced to wait on him instead of Shepard.

***

Half an hour later Kaidan sat on the retaining wall of one of the many reflection pools near the shopping promenade as he fiddled with his new omni tool. They were waiting for Ashley and Garrus to rendezvous with them before taking the next step of their mission. For whatever reason, the Commander had spent her time watching him program his preferences into the new Logic Arrest.

He did his level best to ignore the attention until she said lightly, “Are you jealous?”

The Lieutenant paused in his motions as conflicting emotions demanded his answer one way or another. “No …maybe.”

She crossed her arms as she asked in surprise, “Really, Lieutenant? Of a weapons mod salesman?”

Kaidan knew he was blushing as he glanced at the nearby fountain. Was he that obvious? Was she going to give him a dressing down or just tease the crap out of him? Maybe even enlisting the help of Ashley and Joker?

“Hey, Kaidan?” Shepherds voice call to him as he felt a light pressure on his forearm from her hand. The use of his first caught his attention more than her touch.

He glanced back at her, seeing a tender smile. “I can promise you there is nothing to be jealous of. All my attention is on a certain L2 biotic. You might know him.”

Kaidan smiled as he replied, “Yes ma'am.”

Shepard opened her mouth to say something else when she heard Ashley and Garrus call out to them. She shrugged at him as she turned to greet them but not before she winked at the Lieutenant.

He watched as she walked over to their teammates as he finished setting up his tool. Any doubt he had about being more than comrades-in-arms or friends had evaporated. He was more certain than ever that things between them were more complicated than the mission parameters allowed.

But he didn't care. He was definitely in trouble, but he found himself not giving a damn about that either.

He liked adventurous women, and Shepard was definitely that. And so much more.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hello darling! Are you still doing fic recs? Because I am in dire need of self-conscious Sherlock. Don't ask me why but I am just craving sad, lonely little sherlock getting comforted by John. Help a girl out? Thanks so much either way!

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: Heyy darling, I just wanna say that I LOVE YOUR BLOG SM! Everyday I spend here looking at your posts and reading thousands of awesome fanfictions, so thank you lol 💜 Also, could you maybe give me a list of all fanfics with insecure!sherlock or insecure!john ? And lots of angst, like reading/watching/seeing things they weren’t supposed to see that has their love on it, stuff like that hahaha Thank you babe 🖤

Hi Lovelies! 

Always! I actually started a list a short while back because someone else asked for one but I can’t find the ask, LOL. I’ve actually done a post in the past for it, but I think I’ll just redo it and stamp it with Jan 2019, LOL. Here we are!

I know I have more but I haven’t retagged all my past readings, so I’ve only included ones that I remember indefinitely is an insecure Sherlock or John

INSECURE / AWKWARD SHERLOCK OR JOHN (Jan. 2019)

See also:

BedSharing Pt. 2 and Insecure Sherlock

BAMF! But Insecure John

Bands by dragonQuill907 (T, 1,017 w. || Established Relationship, POV Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock) – “Her wedding ring. Ten years old at least. The rest of her jewelry has been regularly cleaned, but not her wedding ring. State of her marriage right there. The inside of the ring is shinier than the outside – that means it’s regularly removed. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger.”

Secrets by 796116311389 (G, 1,084 w. || Drunk Sherlock, Drunk Confessions, Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Pining Sherlock) – “He is the best person in the world and sometimes I get sad because I’m not. Not his best person.”

Under The Covers by berlynn_wohl (E, 1,221 w. || Est. Rel., Shy Sherlock, Anal, Fluff) – John would have liked to have the lights on and seen everything, but Sherlock was shy, so they did it this way, always.

29 January 2017 by wearitcounts (Sher_locked_up) (E, 1,765 w. || Anniversary, First Time, Insecure Sherlock, Love Confessions, Post-S4) – “That,” John says, “should have happened years ago. Maybe even the first time.”

Loudly Unspoken by Mount_Seleya (M, 1,871 w. || Post-TAB, Love Confessions, Vulnerable Sherlock, Frottage) – John confronts Sherlock about the words he left unsaid on the tarmac. Set immediately after TAB.

The Marriage Proposal Negotiation by Goddess_of_the_Night (G, 2,161 w. || Dev. Rel., Possessive Sherlock, Insecure Sherlock, Fluff, First Kiss, Post Mary) – Sherlock hasn’t ever really done anything the traditional way, so of course it wouldn’t bother him to propose to John even though they’re not even dating. And the fact that John is already on a date with someone else when he decides to do it? Tedious.

Unmissed by 221b_hound (M, 3,235 w. || Est. Rel., Pet Names, Insecure Sherlock, Worried Sherlock) – John enjoys a good brawl during a case, and Sherlock begins to worry - when they retire, will John get bored? Will John get bored and leave. But even if John isn’t a genius about cases, he knows a thing or two about Sherlock’s panic attacks about them as a couple. With only four days till the wedding, he’s not about to let Sherlock continue with this misplaced notion that John will be bored in retirement. Part 20 of Unkissed

Untouched by KittieHill (E, 3,239 w. || Kissing, Frottage, Virgin Sherlock, Body Worship, Sherlock’s Scars Mentioned, Masturbation, PWP, Rimming) – Sherlock leaked a lot. John had never needed lubricant. John loved watching it, had once spent an entire afternoon edging Sherlock so he could watch as the thick precome drip, drip, dripped onto Sherlock’s belly.

Acceptable Behaviour by bbcatemysoul (M, 3,449 w. || Fluff, Dev. Rel., Miscommunication, First Time) – Sherlock isn’t really sure why John wants to shag him, but he’s certain that if he’s careful to behave properly about it, John can be persuaded to keep doing it. In other news, John is a good boyfriend and Sherlock is an idiot.

In Nomine by Atiki (E, 3,517 w. || Est. Rel., PWP, Anal, Domesticity, Love Confessions, Sherlock Loves John, Overwhelmed Sherlock) – “Alright?” John asks gently, planting a kiss on Sherlock’s left collar bone, smoothing a hand down his chest and belly until it rests in the soft trail of hair below his belly button. John’s smile is all soft and warm. His hand feels tender and solid and real. A soldier’s hand. A surgeon’s hand. A lover’s hand. Oh. “John”, Sherlock gasps. And that’s where it begins. Written for a prompt on the Kink Meme: The only word Sherlock says during sex is “John”.

MR# 1430155 by blueink3 (T, 3,560 w. || Talks of Parentlock, Baby Watson, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Fluff and Angst) – John paces the length of the not inconsiderable hallway and glances at his phone for the tenth time since he exited the hospital room seven minutes ago. Sherlock’s last text was sent at 5:06pm. It is now 5:39pm. He should be here by now. After all, his daughter is 46-minutes-old and if John is going to share this momentous event with someone, it sure as hell isn’t going to be the woman who just gave birth to her.Part 5 of Tumblr Prompts

Rumpled by WhimsicalEthnographies (E, 3,601 w. || Est. Rel., Insecure Sherlock, Fluff, PWP, Proposal, Bottomlock) – Then, halfway through a documentary on river otters that neither of them was paying attention to–how could John, with a gangly, limp consulting detective practically purring in his lap?–Sherlock suddenly bolted upright, looked at John with a perplexed expression and a crinkle above his nose, and blurted, “Marry me.” Part 4 of Longitudinal Cohort

Last Christmas by Mazarin221b (T, 3,911 w. || Fluff, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss) – That Earth-shaking revelation, then, leads to a problem, and one that Sherlock realizes should be solved quickly, before John’s dates turn into girlfriends or boyfriends, because sometimes girlfriends or boyfriends can turn into wives or husbands while your back is turned. Every time John hums happily at the mirror as he shaves, splashes on a little gift cologne Mrs. Hudson bought him for Christmas, Sherlock is drawn back to that night by the fire, and the way John’s touch had made the world stand still.

Hope Springs Eternal by QuinnAnderson  (T, 4,054 w. || Friends to Lovers, Pining Sherlock, Vacation, Anxious Sherlock, Love Confessions, Fluff, Requited Love) – John Watson and Sherlock Holmes go on holiday, and Sherlock has romance on the brain.

Everything by patternofdefiance (E, 4,409 w. || Snuggles and Cuddles, Bed Sharing, Frottage, Vulnerable Sherlock) – John wakes up with an armful of Sherlock.This – situation – is unusual, yes, and definitely unfamiliar, but in no way does it feel wrong.Rather, it feels the exact opposite. Part 13 of I Blame Tumblr

a violent flash of purple by hudders-and-hiddles (E, 4,749 w. || Sex Toys, Friends to Lovers, PWP, Love Confessions, Porn With Feelings) – When Sherlock accidentally drops his towel, he ends up revealing a whole lot more than he’d intended.

Bed-Sharing Between Flatmates by testosterone_tea (T, 5,053 w. || 5 and Ones, Bed Sharing, PTSD John, Science, Whump, Insecure Sherlock, Asexual Sherlock) – 5 times Sherlock had an excuse to share John’s bed, and the one time he didn’t need one.

The Only Available Transportation by blueink3 (T, 5,379 w. || Post S4, Fluff and Angst, Insecure Sherlock, Caring John, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Birthday, Family, Misunderstandings) – It’s possibly the desperation that’s seeped into his voice despite his best intentions, or perhaps it’s just a mother’s intuition, but she knows that whatever he’s calling about is Serious, hangover be damned. “What’s happened?” she asks, tone soft and as comforting as a hot cup of tea on a cold winter’s night. “Mummy,” he begins, voice catching. “I think John may be moving out.”

Tease You Till You Come by phoenix089 (E, 6,090 w. || First Time, Clueless Sherlock, Texting) – Initially, Sherlock was rather put out by John’s lack of presence on the case. But then he starts to receive pictures, several of them, of an unexpected nature. The case is forgotten rather quickly after that.

All the Flavours, Cherry and More by cwb (E, 6,274 w. || Est. Rel., Lip Gloss, Lingerie, Birthday Presents, Insecure Sherlock) – Sherlock feels a blush rising to touch his cheeks, more sensual than uncomfortable now that he knows John isn’t disgusted by him. No, John is responding exactly the way he had hoped.

The Inciting Incident by beetlemate (M, 6,291 w. || Masturbation, Embarassed Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Fluff, Friends to Lovers) – John catches Sherlock in a compromising position. With a secret photograph. He absolutely must know what is in that bloody photograph.

The Strait of Juan de Fuca by mightypog (T, 6,400 w. || Vacation, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Canada, Post-TRF, Love Confessions) – Sherlock is back and all seems forgiven, but something is missing between him and John. Their friendship initially appears intact, but Sherlock doesn’t understand why John seems to be slipping away. Finally, in terror, he tries to reconnect with John by taking him to the one place that seems to inspire any emotional interest in John any more: the Canadian wilderness. While there, Sherlock faces his greatest fear.

Inside by magikspell (E, 6,757 w. || Loss of Virginity, Anal / Rimming, Fluff, Humour, Awkwardness, Shy Sherlock, Bottomlock) – “Being inside someone. Feeling someone inside you.”

Abatement by WhimsicalEthnographies (E, 6,816 w. || Est. Rel., Retirementlock, Fluff, Sherlock’s Self Esteem, Grumpy Sherlock) – “What’s wrong with you? You love the cottage,” John glances over to the passenger seat, then quickly turns his eyes back to the road. Driving was still not his forte, but considering Sherlock still couldn’t properly bend and lift his new knee enough to press and release the clutch, he had to make do. Not that Sherlock hadn’t tried to argue his way into the driver’s seat. “I love the cottage for a week or two, John. Don’t be deliberately obstuse,” Sherlock grumbles, sinking further in his seat. Well, as best he can with a four-week-old knee replacement. “And that’s all we’re going for, love,” John says out loud. But what he’s thinking is, shit. He knows.

High and Tight, Soft and Loose by cwb (E, 7,429 w. || Jealous John, Miscommunications / Misunderstandings, First Kiss / Time, BAMF John, Insecure Sherlock, Clueless Sherlock, Junk Size, UST / RST) – John pressed the knuckle of his index finger against his mouth and sighed. “So, you’re coiled like a spring and ready to be … sprung?” “If you want to be pedestrian about it, yes.” “Like I said, you should do something about that.” “And like I said, pedestrian. What would you have me do? Take up jogging? Yoga? Oh! Unless you mean –” “I don’t mean anything. Let’s drop it.”

The T-Shirt Thief by allroadsleadbacktobakerstreet (T, 7,968 w. || Mutual Pining, Post Canon Fix It, Dev. Rel., First Kiss, Domestics) – Sherlock steals John’s t-shirt from the laundry. John catches him wearing it one evening, fluff ensues with an endeared yet teasing John?

Drive by lifeonmars (M, 9,537 w. || Virginity, Awkward First Times, Minor Injuries) – John and Sherlock are stranded by the roadside, and John is injured. They need to spend the night in the back of a humvee. Sherlock is confused. John is understanding.

The Thin Line by Odamaki (M, 10,809 w. || Virgin Sherlock, Awkwardness, Confessions, First Times, Anal) – John swallows. Keeps his eyes on Sherlock. Begs him not to ruin him.Sherlock leans forward over the witness box ever-so slightly, “I was distracted,” he informs the court, “by my partner, John Watson.”

the first day of forever by darcylindbergh (E, 11,850 w. || Est. Relationship, Domestics, Light Angst, Insecurity, Emotional H/C) – “I’m going to marry you,” John murmurs with against Sherlock’s smile, and they both giggle in the joy of it. “We’re getting married.”“Yes,” Sherlock says, just to hear himself say it out loud. “We are.” A June wedding. Part 4 of things fairy tales are made of

And Here We Are by J_Baillier (T, 12,416 w. || ASiP Fic, Alternating First Person POV, Drama, Friendship, Mild Case Fic, Autism Spectrum Sherlock, Insecure Sherlock, Protective John, Pining, Homophobia, Loneliness, Angst, Humour, Domestics, Morbid Fluff, Kidnapping) – All the little things we never got to see when an army doctor and a consulting detective were adjusting to sharing a flat. And a life.

Let’s Make a Bed Out in the Rain by theimprobable1 (M, 17,664 w. || Pining Sherlock, Angst & Fluff, First Kiss, Unrequited, Jealous Sherlock, Protective Sherlock) – John is devastated after his long-term girlfriend leaves him. Sherlock helps him through it.

For you, there’s only me by shock_blanket (E, 19,557 w. || Jealous Idiots, Virgin Sherlock, UST/RST, Pining, Miscommunication, First Kiss / Time, Insecure Sherlock, Masturbation) – Sherlock realizes he has fallen in love with John, but believes he is unlovable. Cue lots of pining and jealousy on Sherlock’s part, followed by our favorite cuddly marksman making it all better. Because for Sherlock, there’s only John.

A Life Well-Lived by Kate_Lear (E, 20,121 w. || Original Male Character, Sherlock Woos John, Jealous Sherlock, Reluctant Bi-John) – John got scared off men by an abusive past relationship. Sherlock has to try and woo him while not scaring him off with protective possessive rage.

The Real Meaning of Idioms by feverishsea (T, 21,691 w. || Texting, Humour, Post S2, Awkward Romance) - After two weeks away, John finally texts Sherlock. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to respond. He doesn’t expect Sherlock to keep texting him. And he really doesn’t expect things to spiral out of control so rapidly.

5 Times John Got the Girl (and lost her) and 1 Time John Got the Guy (and kept him) by LiviKate (M, 21,695 w. || 5 and Ones, Kissing, Oblivious / Awkward Sherlock, BAMF / Sexy / Stud John, Embarassed John, John’s Scar, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Sherlock) – John has always had good luck with the ladies. He’s charming, friendly and funny, not to mention great in bed. However, his usual skill with the opposite sex is constantly being thwarted by Sherlock and his outbursts. How will John ever get a leg over when Sherlock is always cockblocking him?

State of Flux by Atiki (E, 24,655 w. || Sherlock POV, Slow Burn, First Kiss/Time, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Cuddles and Snuggles, Awkwardness, Insecure/Virgin Sherlock, Romance) – John’s marriage is over and he is finally back home (i.e. at Baker Street, where he belongs). Sherlock is awfully insecure and John is awfully hesitant, and they’re both awkward idiots, of course, but they figure it out. Many First Times happen.

An Acquired Taste by kinklock (E, 31,059 w. || Vampires AU || Vampire Sherlock, Misunderstandings, Bat!Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Humour, Magical Realism, Fluff and Angst, Blood Drinking, Holmes Family, Slow Burn) – At Montague Street when Sherlock was forced to sate his body’s needs, he was at least able to wander about the flat as much as he pleased.At Baker Street, it was mini-bags in a mini-fridge and bedroom confinement.

a good old-fashioned happy ending by darcylindbergh (E, 32,731 w. || Christmas, Frottage, Comfort, Est. Rel., Fluff, Insecure Sherlock) – For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves. Part 2 of things fairy tales are made of

Classified(s) by blueink3 (E, 36,153 w. || Wedding Date AU || Fake Relationship, Jealous, PIning, H/C, Idiots in Love, Happy Ending, Mary is not Nice, Escort Service) – Clara’s American father is the ambassador to some such territory that Great Britain probably used to own, but she (and Harry’s undying love for her) is the reason John is getting on a flight at 12:30pm, flying across the second largest ocean in the world, and pretending to be in a perfectly happy, healthy relationship with an undoubtedly perfectly coiffed stranger. See, Clara is not only American (and wealthy to boot), she’s also best friends with John’s ex-fiancée. Whom she’s placed in the wedding party. As Maid of Honor. And John just happens to be Best Man. Bloody brilliant.

A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

Set in Stone by SilentAuror (E, 39,309 w. || Romance, Wedding, Therapy, Fluff and Angst) – Sherlock and John are back from Ravine Valley and planning their wedding. However, as they move past the trial of the human traffickers, Sherlock can’t help but wonder if he’s imagining that John is becoming a little distant. Surely he isn’t getting cold feet about the wedding… Part 2 of The Ravine Valley series

In the Still of the Night by SilentAuror (E, 42,234 w. || S4 Fix It / Post-S4, Sherlock POV, Angst, Drama, Romance, Virgin Sherlock, Awkwardness, Misunderstandings / Miscommunications, Case Fic, Travelling, Pining) – As locals on the Northeastern coast begin to report UFO sightings, life at Baker Street becomes significantly awkward as John brings up his desire for more than friendship and Sherlock refuses him. They embark on the investigation from the confines of the tiny cottage Mycroft has rented for them, attempting to navigate both the clues of the case as well as their own inability to communicate…

Bedroom Tales by Junejuly15 (M, 49,950 w. || Friends to Lovers, Through the Years, H/C, Military Kink, First Kiss / Time, Romance, Insecure Sherlock, Voyeurism, Post-TRF, Ficlets, Fluff and Angst, Fix-It Fics) – Bedroom Tales is a collection of John and Sherlock ficlets. They are set at various stages of their relationship and are in no particular order. Some are fluffy, some sexy, some angsty, there is hurt and comfort, romance and love. What unites them is that they all play in a bedroom, but not necessarily the one in 221B.

In the Dark Hours by hubblegleeflower (E, 51,639 w. || Friends to Lovers, Unreliable Narrator, Closeted Bi John, Angst, Miscommunications, Slow Burn, First Time, John’s Blog / Epistolary) – John, wounded and silent, drifts back to Baker Street for healing…and then goes home again. He visits, gets more upbeat, chattier, smiles, jokes… and still goes home again. Sherlock wants him to move back in - it just makes sense - but John shows no signs of doing so. This is the story of how John and Sherlock learn to say what needs to be said when they’re both so very, very rubbish at talking.

floating through a dark blue sky by Lediona (M, 58,966 w. || Notting Hilll AU || POV John, Celebrity Sherlock, First Date / Time / Kiss, Past Drug Addiction, Angst with a Happy Ending) – Of course, I’d seen his films and always thought he was, well, brilliant – but, you know, a million miles from the world I live in. Or, when John is the owner of a travel book shop and the famous Sherlock Holmes stops in one day.

The Book of Silence by SilentAuror (E, 60,056 w. || S4 Fix It / Post S4, Virgin Sherlock, Rosie / Parentlock, Domesticity, Fluff, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, First Person POV) – As spring blooms in London, John and Sherlock begin to take new cases and cautiously negotiate this new phase of life with John living at Baker Street again. Despite how well it’s all going, John struggles to forgive himself for the way he treated Sherlock following Mary’s death as well as trying to figure out how to finally put his long-time feelings for Sherlock into words. Part 1 of The Book of Silence/Rosa Felicia

Scars by SilentAuror (E, 60,493 w. || Rape / Non-Con / Abuse, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Dub Con Elements, Homophobia, Angst With Happy Ending, Mary is Not Nice) – S3 rewrite, showing Mary’s manipulation of John as he realizes his love for Sherlock. Mary is not having it.

Definitions by siennna (T, 101,528 w. || Dev. Rel., Pining, Fluff and Romance, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Fluff, Cuddles) – Sherlock’s journey in defining his flat mate and stumbling through the muddled world of emotion. {{This feels complete; the chapter count is listed as ? but I feel like it is done}}

Maintenance and Repair by patternofdefiance (E, 106,650 w. || FutureAU, Augmentation || Augmented John, Depression, Body Modification, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Sci-Fi, Self-Care, Body Dysmorphia) – John wants to explain the rush of sensation and data, which is just another form of sensation (or is it the other way around?). John wants to say: Augmentation circuits report temperature, pressure, various forms of quantitative input. Sudden changes are reported as pain, since sudden changes are dangerous, and pain is the quickest way to encourage reflexive extraction. But all John can manage is, “Nng.” Because this sudden touch is not reporting as pain. Part 2 of STATIC

Breakable by MissDavis (E, 117,627 w. || Established, Fluff/Angst, Depression, Paralysis, Happy-ish Ending) – After John is seriously injured, Sherlock struggles to figure out how to help him, keep himself sane, and maybe, just maybe, get their life back to the way it’s supposed to be. Part 1 of Breakable Not Broken

The Burning Heart by May_Shepard (M, 119,150 w. || Canon Divergence, Post-TRF, John’s Sexuality, S3 Rewrite, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV John Watson, John’s Gay) – When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.

Unkissed Series by 221b_hound (T to E, 184,168 w. across 46 works || Established Relationship, Ace Sherlock) – Sherlock returned from the dead a year ago. John returned to Baker Street six months ago. They’ve been in a couple since then. or at least, not NOT a couple. For two smart men, they sure can be dumb. Luckily, an art thief tries to drown Sherlock, Sherlock has a fever dream and things are about to change.

[alternativewinxcontinuity]

Don't mind me, just losing my mental sh*t

Has anyone else ever noticed it always seems to be the people who’ve never written/posted anything that leave the most unnecessary (and often meanest) comments?

Or the people who themselves write like they haven’t hit puberty yet but feel like they can comment like a professional editor by giving advice that is exactly the opposite of what they were just saying needs to be fixed?!

Not Winx Related, I just really needed to vent. I got a shit review on a non-Winx Story and as I bitch a little about that I'm finally taking the time to address a review I got on my GOT fic, which turned nasty that I want to pick apart, but not to his face because he is not the kind of reviewer who should be interacted with, so I'mma dump it here. (Rant un-beta'd.)

Like? You really want to leave a comment on chapter 2 of a part 30 chapter fic that you haven’t read saying shit like:

“I don’t see the point its basically a rewrite”

When, had you read even one chapter on, you would have begun to see the divergence that is about to slowly snowball out of control while the universe does its best to stay on track. (yes the 'its' typo is review accurate.)

Like buddy, I get it, you've never written anything in your life and you think this is okay to say to someone because, and this may surprise you: you're an asshole.

"The point" was that it was a fun idea, "the point" was that I was enjoying the crossover and figuring out how everything could go wrong by replacing a single major part, "the point" was many, many other people found it hilarious and so did I. Not "the point" but it was also a version of Harry Potter not written by a fcking TERF.

Or:

'This Character is just really out of character, you're doing a bad job of writing him.'

Okay *goes to check their fics to see how they wrote him to see if she can figure out where reviewer is coming from. they have no fics in the fandom.* 'hey reviewer, you say he's out of character, how would you go about fix him so he's more in character?'

'Oh well, he's just not very *season 1 characterisation despite the fact he's explicitly stated to be season 3 end of his character growth story arc*, you should have him do *a thing that is something he would never have done even in season 1*'

-

Or shit like (and this is a long one from 'Richard' who hid behind the Anon function):

"This is a great fic. It's surprisingly difficult for me to optimize the protagonist. So first,"

Like? excuse you? why would you need to optimize my character?

"I really hope Sansa chooses to mine the metric tonnes of valuable honey and wax from that beehive once she gets her inventory."

So I hate to admit that the honey and wax would be a good idea, and she will be getting a boon of that, but it will be because she'll be getting Bee Hives later, not because she'll think to strip mine a people in dire straights.

"Also, she has valyrian steel claws, which she now knows can dig into the rock very easily. Those crumbling ledges? She can dig new ones, she can dig a staircase. She can widen the entrance so that her soldiers come in to help mine the liquid gold. Especially since she appreciates the difference between currency and goods. Of course, maybe she'll establish diplomatic relations instead."

So I am going to look so fcking petty when I finally get the next chapter out, because I actually addressed this idea with reality. Trust me, I did some research, and while there's almost nothing easily found on how long it would take to do this sort of work by hand, what I found supported the idea that it's stupid. It takes (and I shit you not) literal days with a team of men using hand tools to carve through even a few metres of rock (the exact time depends on how hard the rock is and how large they make the opening/area).

Sansa would be literally clawing at the walls with her nails which, while yes they are Valyrian steel, are still attached to very human fingers and arms. and here's where my first hand knowledge kicks back in: I went on a mock archaeological dig when I was in high school, I spent several hours scrapping layers of compact sand to uncover artefacts, resistance levels aside, the repeated action is hell on your muscles, Sansa would spend as much time recovering as she would digging. to get all the way to the entrance would take her literal years with Richard's suggested method.

PLUS: the point of the adventures is for SANSA (and Arya) to have the spot light, to be forced to think and find ways to use the new Abilities they've been given, or to come up with new ones. It's part of my whole "Power is Earned, or it is Corrupted" mentality, if you don't work for it, you will sooner rather than later abuse it.

AND: of course she's going to use diplomatic solutions, she's Sansa, and that's what the clue of foreshadowing was saying! Literally everything you need to know to solve the Dungeons is in their individual clues!!!

"Secondly, medieval people already had long-lasting torches which burned for hours and hours instead of 5-10 minutes. Each torch looked like a pillar or stupidly elongated torch that was carried with the tip lit and burning down like a candle. They also didn't use candles as those were too expensive. They used rushes soaked in fat which could be made by the dozens to hundreds with a few hours' work. There's a youtube video on this subject entitled medieval misconceptions: torches and candles."

Oh. My. God. Such. Valuable. Information. If . Only. I had. Known. This. When. I wrote. about. reed candles. in this. very fic.

Literally of the four times I used the word candle, twice it was explicitly 'reed candles' (and guess what other name rushes go by?) and once it was a metaphor specifically about the smoke and not the candle.

As for the pillar candles, the ones that burn for hours are too heavy for someone of Sansa's size and arm strength and the hour candles, (if you've ever seen Avatar Last Airbender, the candles they used in the Secret Tunnel) are unwieldy and aren't so good for putting down in a way that doesn't risk them going out. (Putting them far enough into a wall sconce that it won't topple back out makes it very tricky to remove it.)

Which, why even bother with torches that are more effort to obtain when Sansa's powers make the 'advantage' obsolete anyway!? Not to mention: Displayed Content! If a show uses something even in the background, it exists in that world. Wax candles aren't that rare. (Also side note, because I do my fcking research: the majority of hives which supply the honey and wax to Westeros are owned by the Maesters of old town.)

"I don't really care about those things though. The latter is a mistake literally everyone makes and I didn't know was a mistake until a month ago. Which goes into my third point, how Sansa could optimize things."

Then why bring it up, especially since I didn't technically make said mistake??

"At this point she knows she needs people and she's already given her powers to someone trustworthy. She also knows that healing is a power she can give. And she knows they're going to need this at least as much as medics. And there are indeed people she trusts whom she hasn't approached with an offer of power. Ned Stark, Catelyn Stark, Lyra Mormont of Bear Island, and Tyrion Lannister. Tyrion Lannister can wait but not forever. Lyra should be approached as soon as possible."

NO. Arya was the exception, not the rule, Sansa isn't going to just go off and give her god-blessed powers to anyone else. I was hesitant to give it to Arya as it was, and only let myself because I could use the 'Arya's God is Death, there's more stakes than you thought' to fully justify it.

Tyrion as he is can't be trusted, and future Tyrion chose Dany over Sansa, neither Sansa nor Arya know how his story ended, so as far as they are concerned he's a good ally, but not actually trust worthy enough for this.

For those of you confused, Lyra Mormont is one of the daughters of the Lady Maege Mormont, and one of Lyanna's sisters. Lyra got maybe two mentions in the books and nothing in the tv series so I can only assume Richard meant Lyanna, who is currently 2 years old! But we'll come back to this, because Richard sure did!!!

As for the medic thing, I really hope Richard meant he was fcking off for good in his final word, because if he comes back, I really don't want him to think he's responsible for the medic corps that I've been planning and attempting to foreshadow with Sansa approaching Luwin, and Beth and Jeyne following Sansa's lead with archery.

Like, oh hey, guess which unfortunate field medic bride of a Stark might find her way to Winterfell if she hears about young women being trained in some basic healing to help Maester Luwin deal with any cases of over flow of patients. That's right, I'm planning for triage nurses! No magical powers required. 

"I assume she's going to get glass from Lys through the Tapestry of Doors. For that she's going to need tokens. She's going to need tokens for everything, and she already knows it. So collecting and hoarding tokens should be a big priority for her. And that means going places where there are tokens to be got. Places she hasn't gone to yet, like The Wall and Bear Island. Just to get tokens."

No. Again, just NO! Sansa already stated that Tokens and relying on them were a thing that would come back to bite her, she'll horde them as she finds them, but she's not going out of her way to find them because she has things to do! Also: the Tapestry of Doors was a piece of Flavour text for way late in the fic if it ever came back, and like a Stargate, requires one at each end, so someone would have to travel to Lys anyway, which is dumb when Sansa now has a Loom which can copy any 'raw' material, and the ability to convert that 'raw' material' into any object she has the blueprint for, which she can get by 'scanning' with her console.

She just has to put 2 and 2 together!!

"She also knows there are dungeons in each place, and that she needs to get to them. And that it's better if she gets in with people. Like people Lyra trusts to whatever dungeon is in Bear Island."

The thing about the Dungeons is that the whole thing is for Sansa, some of them will have special requirements, but very few of them are crucial, they're just there so Sansa has a place and a trial to obtain Unique Items of game breaking power or ability.

"The last way to optimise her powers is one I don't think she'll take even though it has a lot of benefits. Going with a squad of soldiers into the Dreadfort's dungeon in order to confront the walking dead, with hit and run tactics slowly draining the population there. The main benefit and reason to do this is to harden and blood the soldiers to prepare them for the Long Night, so she should have the soldiers on rotation in order to expose as many as possible to the horrors to come."

Problem is the undead in the Dreadfort Dungeon aren't the same as the Wights and White Walkers, they can just be killed in the same ways. The idea of these kinds of fics is that by the time the Long Night Comes, Sansa and Arya can do most if the heavy lifting. You are right that Sansa wouldn't risk her people for some EXP though.

Sansa will be going back though, there's a pair of Shears and Needle in there.

"Also, the loot should be great. Perhaps another loom. But I would do it even for more bobbins. Or nothing at all."

Literally the Loom is a one off item. It is super powerful with what it can do in the context, so having more than one would ruin the power balance I've been trying to keep between Power Fantasy and OP Bullshit.

-

Someone of course pointed out that (Richard said Lyra, but responder said Lynna) Lyanna was currently literally 2 or 3 years old, she can't do shit. (they also brought up that 2 (actually 3) characters had already declined the super powers, because it included bad timeline memory downloads.) Guess how Richard took that?!

If you guessed "not well" you get a cookie!

Seriously, I was kind of annoyed at his review because^^^ reasons he was wrong about stuff, but also the arrogance of 'telling me how to optimize my character' was just, icky, so I was just going to ignore him.

But then he went (in response to the other reviewer):

"(snort) I think you need to recall what Lyanna Mormont is like at 10 years of age. She is a force and she is in charge. And what exactly is your objection, that Sansa needs consent or is preserving innocence?"

No moron, the objection is that she's literally 2 or 3 years old, what the fck is she going to do in her tiny little body? But yes, now that you mention it, Sansa (was assaulted and lost her bodily autonomy, she) would place a huge amount of importance on consent, it's one of the reasons she was so upset by Arya taking advantage of her sleepy state to get her to agree.

"Lyanna Mormont wouldn't care. Jon and Robb care, that's why their sister cares. Lyanna would never thank Sansa for trying to preserve her innocence, keep her ignorant, or keep her weak. She would be insulted."

Lyanna is literally 2 or 3 years old, she doesn't know enough to care or be insulted by not being told that she's lost the chance to remember several years of horrific shit before being violently murdered.

Also I notice you didn't say anything about the name correction. Got it wrong the first time did you?

"Which leaves only respecting Lyanna's will. Or her mother's will maybe. Or at least informing them of what she's decided to do before she does it so they can prepare. But Sansa gains nothing by not asking."

And what would she gain by asking? also nothing. Lyanna is 2 or 3 years old. Also the fic isn't about her. Why would Sansa even trust her? The child who thought she could judge Sansa for being unable to stab her way out of some horrible places? who scorned Sansa because she was femme? Because Sansa's strength isn't the same as hers so Lynna decided Sansa didn't have any?

Lynna chose Jon to lead the North over Sansa who had a better claim to the throne, Jon, who spent the entire 8th season saying how much he doesn't want to be king, Jon who legit just tried to walk away from the Command of the Nights Watch.

"And this brings up another issue, the fact Sansa never decided FOR Jon and Robb cuts both ways. She informed them of their choice and she let them make it."

"Sansa didn't keep them in the dark without informing them of the decision she was making for them, as you seem to want to do, since that definitely isn't the right thing to do. Mushroom management is a shit heap."

The boys were already aware that something was up, Sansa had nothing to gain by lying, and she made the offer before she realised the memories were a thing.

"The question to ask a toddler is "do you want to grow up?" it's not a difficult question to ask and it does have a meaningful answer. And that's the problem you have, because you already know Lyanna Mormont would say yes and you want her to say no. That's why you want the question never asked."

"You want to pretend that Lyanna Mormont, DEFINITELY in charge of bear island at 10 years of age, is a gormless wimp like 25 year old Jon Snow who refused to be king and refused to even THINK whether or not Daenerys would be a good queen by constantly uttering the refrain "she is my queen"."

Laynna was in charge because she was the last of her family, everyone else was lost fighting someone else's war. More importantly: she's not even part of the equation? Why would Sansa travel to Bear Island to ask a 2 or 3 year old if she wants to become an angry and traumatised 10 year old in a 2 or 3 year old body which will feel like a prison because she's not as tall or fast as she used to be, because she can't lift or climb or jump or ride or fight like she used to.

And for what? a few super powers she has to ask Sansa for? For mental trauma her family and friends cannot comprehend?

But no, have a look at the part where Richard really started to cross the line:

"No, Lyanna Mormont wants power, wants to grow up, that is obvious. And you're an obstacle in her way. She would hurt you for standing in her way, probably smashing a mace in your knees. And you're so weak that yes you would in fact be hurt by a 2 or 3 year old toddler. She killed a giant and she would have no problem killing you for daring to think you're a giant."

"Stand aside little man and let Lyanna Mormont have her glory."

Now I don't know what this guy's obsession is with Lyanna, but that sounded like a threat to me. Like, who tells people that a fiction character would physically maim or murder a real person just for pointing out said fictional character is 2 or 3 years old?

Lyanna doesn't want power? She's not that kind of person, even if she is fictional? More importantly:

Neither I nor the reviewer were 'standing in her way' because she's a fictional character who's not even in this fic!!!

But his behaviour was pretty shit, so I told him to knock it off or I was going to turn the review filters on.

That went about as well as you might expect.

So I was All:

[I don't know what you think you mean by 'optimize the character' but half of your assumptions are wrong, the rest run counter to my pre-existing plans and I don't care for your overall demeanour. I was prepared to leave your post be, but your recent reply is inappropriate and uses language which runs VERY close to sounding like a death threat, which I DO NOT APPRECIATE. I don't want to be 'that bitch', but I am going to ask you to please be respectful, or I will be turning on the comment filters.]

Because I don't Know if you know this but AO3 has three filters in the privacy tab of every story posted:

1] “Only show your work to registered users”

this means that you MUST be logged in to an AO3 account to even find it let alone read it

2] Disable Anonymous Comments

you Must be logged in to leave a comment

3] Enable Comment Moderation

doesn't matter what you say, with out Author OK, your review will not be showing up in the comment section.

(… tumblr just did that thing again where it refreshes in the middle of my thousands of words of text and loses all my stuff, it is literally making me want to kill myself. Because I have to retype all the responses from the next fcking section. It's my own fault for not just using a word document, but also: fck tumblr? For being stupid?)

So, from here Richard had three options:

1- Apologise and move one

2- say nothing and pretend it hadn't happened and move on

3- He went with this:

“Your Sansa Stark is weaker than canon Sansa Stark. It's true your Sansa Stark has a strictly higher level of ambition than Sansa Stark. But what she uses in order to achieve her goals, her resources, is weaker.”

“She uses actions, capabilities and skills. She uses embroidery, archery, learning (archery), she uses the people she already knows but not strangers. She uses and manipulates the people she can interact with, learn from, act upon. The level of people that is directly equal to skills.”“

She doesn't use language, nor does she use strangers. Strangers are the level of people that don't require interaction but DO require language to deal with. And your Sansa Stark's language is too weak. When she manipulates the maid in the Dreadfort, it's entirely accidentally and unintentionally.”

Sansa has seen what power does to people, she's seen what lies ahead for the manipulators of the world, she's been taught at the side of Cersei and Petyr, and she does not want to become them. For all the horrific things she's gone through, Sansa came out the other side with her compassion intact, possibly even stronger than before.

“She talks to Domeric only because she's already interacted with him, she's been healing him for days by that point. She fakes Green Dreaming to her father because she knows her language is inadequate and will achieve nothing. The way her father and mother treat her, they know mere words would be inadequate. And they would dismiss any words she said. "Haven't we told our children dreams can't hurt you?"”

She doesn't want to interact with Domeric, he looks like the man who violated her repeatedly, killed her brother and sacked her home. She wants to be as far away from him as possible. When she does end up interacting with him, despite being so sleep deprived it's a wonder she hadn't started hallucinating, she manages to win him over pretty easily.

She fakes Green Dreaming because “a god made me time travel” is not only a ridiculous concept but a foreign one as well. Why would Sansa tell her parents that when it would mean admitting to going through some horrific shit, to letting her family down and being let down by her family when Green Dreams are a known thing which explains her knowledge. It's not inadequacy, it's efficiency and an attempt to hide horrible things.

I need to point out that “Haven't we told our children that dreams can't hurt you?” is said by Catelyn in self-recrimination afterwards, and is said specifically to reference the reason Sansa might not have felt she could go to them with her problem was because it was based on dreams. Because what parent would take dreams as a serious threat unless they were a Nightmare on Elm Street survivor, especially since Green Seers have become so rare they've been relegated back to myths and stories by the time Jojen and Bran show up.

“Language requires actions such as mouthing, shouting, tonguing, but actions will never add up to language. Actions are necessary but NOT SUFFICIENT for language. This is why you can't write a single damned sentence with only actions. Try it, you won't be able to.”

I can't take this paragraph seriously if only because of the use of the word 'tonguing'. FFS, he sounds like a small child trying to convince people he's got a PhD. 'If I throw out some big words and phrase them right they'll sound 'academic' and I'll look smarter!

'I know this probably isn't what Richard meant but: Sign Language? Is literally all actions?

(Obviously real language requires thoughts and concepts to be communicated to be a language, but even the most primitive of body movements can express something: I'm hot, I'm hungry, I'm angry, etc. It might not be true language, but it is communication, which is the basis of language, the reason we made language in the first place.)

“Canon Sansa Stark had dreams, plans, and designs on what others have. She wanted to wed a prince, she had designs on the princess position. She wanted out of King's Landing. She wanted Winterfell. She wanted the Knights of the Vale to fight ... FOR HER.”

“People who had never met canon Sansa Stark in their entire lives fought and died for canon Sansa Stark's benefit. For the designs of a (her words) stupid girl. And sure, her initial designs were stupid. And they only rose up to being pathetic. But they were designs, they were dreams, they were plans.”

I need to talk about my interpretation of Sansa for a minute, because that's what I've been writing: my interpretation of Sansa.

Sansa was raised with an idea of how the world should be, not how it was. She was raised loved and protected and surrounded by men of honour. Fed stories of heroes, brave knights and valiant princes, where good always triumphed, or was romantically defeated and beautifully tragic.

She wasn't raised to expect dishonourable men and hidden motives, she wasn't raised expecting a (metaphorical) dagger in her back.

She didn't want the crown, she didn't want the throne, she wanted “the prince” from her stories, who would cherish her and care for her and give her a family filled with love. And yes the pretty dresses and the shiny jewels and the adoration and praise. But she never wanted power, that came later.

Later after she'd seen the cracks in the world and the grime beneath the gilding, when she'd learned friend and foe were often the same, that people with power would hurt her, use her, that she was nothing but a trophy to them.

Sansa wanted power because “if I'm the one with the power, then they can't hurt me any more, if I have the power I'll be safe, if I have the power then I can protect people, if I have the power I can stop people like that.”

But Sansa has never had power, it was always borrowed, an illusion that could vanish at one misstep. She had no money of her own, her blood made her valuable to others as a trade commodity, but gave her no personal power.

When people fought for her, it was never really about her.

Petyr gave her armies so he could win favour so he could use her as a proxy for her dead mother. Brienne fought to fulfil an oath to Sansa's dead mother.

The Men of the North fought for Winterfell, to get revenge on the Boltons. The Wildings followed Jon Snow. And when it was over, it was Jon who was crowned king, not Sansa the one who had to talk him into getting back their home in the first place.

Her parents and Robb fought for her, but their armies fought for House Stark, for the insult Sansa and Arya's capture and Ned's death presented.

“Your Sansa Stark has no plans, has no dreams, and certainly has no designs. She doesn't use language, because her language is too weak and has no power. She doesn't use her emotions or feelings because they are brittle and far too weak to be used. Weaker even than the emotions and feelings of a stupid girl. She doesn't use her mind or intellect because she doesn't cogitate. She uses skills and ONLY skills. To try to fake everything else.”

It's odd that he says this when he started off this response by saying my Sansa was more ambitious than canon Sansa.

First of all: I thought I was making it fairly clear that her goals were: save her family, save the North, stop the White Walkers.

Her dreams are to never be beholden to another man ever again.

Sansa wants her family alive, she wants to be safe and she wants to be free of all the political manipulations she had to sit through in the first timeline.

Second of all: Richard has clearly never been assaulted in his life in any way and I am so fcking happy for him. Really.

Look, people who suffer long term trauma, (or short term, it doesn't matter how long really) are not magically okay afterwards. The idea that sexual assault makes femme women strong is disgusting and so toxically prevalent in movies and shows and books these days its... horrific. You'll notice butch women like Arya aren't typically assaulted to be strong, because they're already so 'manly'. It was a genuine surprise when they tried to have Brienne assaulted, but that was more about showing how much of a 'good guy' Jaime was than Brienne.

You can really tell in several places that the tv series had non-con fetishists on staff.

Sansa is so brittle now, because she feels safe enough to let herself feel the fear she wasn't able to earlier, to work through the panic and the anger and all the emotions she couldn't before.

“Your Sansa Stark plans to use skills in order to change the world. And since it's obvious the world isn't run by woodcutters or farmers or archers or anyone else defined by their SKILLS, she will fail. She will fail abysmally, totally and catastrophically. She hasn't got the slightest sliver of a chance.”

Quick tally: Sansa has managed to convince her parents she had knowledge of the future, put them on track to realising Petyr Baelish was stealing from the Crown, got Stannis curious in Dragonstone, came up with a plan to gain favour for the North by helping to pay of part of the Crown's debt and has begun working on a plan to ensure more food is available for the Northerners when Winter arrives.

Not to mention, (and you'd easily miss this): Sansa has begun influencing a shift in the young women of the North who had previously been influenced by the South.

The thing is, Richard seems convinced its about the looting and the grinding, 'kill enough stuff and you become a God!' but it's not.

“So you stacked the deck in her favor. You put a high tier deity on her side. Now Sansa has a slim chance to squeak out a win, using the power she's borrowing. But here's the thing, it will never be HER win because it isn't HER power, it isn't HER plans. Your Sansa Stark has no plans, but her deity does, even if they're stupid plans of puerile amusement-seeking. So IF there is a victory at the end, it will never be Sansa Stark's victory, it will be her deity's. Because she is only a pawn, a tool, a peon, a minion.”

Richard doesn't seem to understand what the introduction of Arya's God means for the lore. The amount of death from the wars is causing Bad Things in the back ground of the original timeline.

Sansa isn't the Being's pawn, she's their start player, the Being is a sponsor who's giving Sansa the chance and resources to be greater than she was. It's not about 'puerile amusement-seeking', but how do you tell a young woman who's gone through what Sansa's gone through that the fate of the entire human race is in her hands, that if she fails it won't just be her family that falls.

If Sansa thinks the Being just wants amusement, then Sansa will act as she pleases and hope it's good enough, which puts her closer in line with saving the world than if she's actually trying to save the world, because that is a much bigger task than 'stop the issues that got my family killed'.

The Being is only victorious if Sansa is, it's their shared victory.

Now up until this point Richard has been an arrogant tool, but it might almost seem like he's being reasonable. This is where he loses the plot and just starts back on his favourite fall back: threatening people with violence.

“Now generally, when an author writes a protagonist who is a pawn, a tool, a peon and a minion of a higher power, when they write a protagonist who is WEAK, it's because they themselves are weak. Generally doesn't mean universally however, so I had to know. And now I do. You are weak Jasper.”

“You want to convince me of something Jasper. You want to convince me that I'm wrong, that my opinion is wrong, that my position is wrong, you want me to change my mind, you want me to know my plans and judgment are wrong. Because they're in conflict with yours. But how do you achieve this? By threatening me with your borrowed power. Exactly like your Sansa Stark.”

Did he have to google the list of synonyms there?

I don't know what it is about being referred to by name, but it bugs me that he chose to use only a portion of my pen-name like we were somehow familiar, rather than not using my name or referring to me as OP or something along those lines.

Also I really have to disagree that only weak people write about people being weak, but I don't think his opinions of weak and strong match with mine either. 

He is wrong, but more importantly: he threatened someone with violence for daring to correct him.

I wasn't threatening him, I was warning him to stop being an asshole or I would disable anonymous commenting.

“You do this because you're weak. And what do we call weak people who complain about strong people's actions when they are the bitches of higher powers? We call them exactly what you "don't want to be", we call them bitches. You are a bitch to higher powers and you bitch about higher powers like me. You bitch about people who can use their intellects. And for a good reason too.”

“You fear my attitude because I am the bitch slapper. I slap little bitches like you all fucking day long every single day. It doesn't matter to me who it is, whether it's my own friends who are bitching, I slap them for it. And you will never ever convince me that you're right. Because you're weak. And because I don't respect bitches.”

Look, I've seen enough therapists of different varieties to pull off some impressive psych 101 bullshit so I can tell you right now: Richard is a man who has never held any real authority in his life, he has mediocre skills at best and often feels talked down to because he feels more entitled than he is and no one treats him like a god for breathing. He refuses to back down when wrong even in the face of evidence and then he pouts because the world didn't shift to match his delusions.

The worst part is I know this, and I know I shouldn't let this bother me. But it does. But it shouldn't and I can tell him to his 'face' via review reply why he's wrong, or he'll know it bothers me, then he'll feel validated, even though he's wrong. And he'll probably threaten someone with more violence and then I really will have to disable anon comments and effectively punish some readers who did nothing wrong.

“So what are you going to do to me that I care about? Stop me from reading your fic? You don't have that power. Stop writing it so that I can no longer learn how your mind works, my ulterior motive? That would be cutting your nose to spite your face. You would suffer far out of proportion to me. I would just move on to some other author. Report me? Go ahead, I don't care. Really, we're done here, so have a nice life.”

Yes I do, literally the first of the privacy filters would stop you from reading, but that would hurt my other readers who don't have an account.

'Ulterior motive'? Buddy, you apparently don't understand how any mind works.

Again: if you don't care why bring it up?

Are you really leaving though? Do you promise?!

“The only thing you could ever do to me is surprise me by ceasing to be a weak little bitch. Or even resolving to not be one. This would invalidate all of my predictions by rising to my implied challenge. That's what I like, win-win. (lol) I'm not holding my breath though.”

I don't have anything to prove to this douche tool and it bothers me that this is bothering me so much!!!! The worst part is, this review came at a time when my attention for the fic was flagging, so I'll never know if it was really this review or not that made me stop writing for the past few months?

Those of you with an AO3 account who drop by my profile to see if I wrote anything interesting may have noticed my recent 'for archive users only' locked fic. I can confirm that yes: to mental detox this review I went and watched a Chinese Xianxia drama that has become my new hyper-focus. Almost 100 plot bunnies are being posted into the locked fic in an effort to purge it rom my brain so I can get back to what I was doing. It seems to be working. I wrote about 1000 words for Episode: Sisterhood this week, so the chapter is almost done. At last!

[the-sapphire-general]

My Thoughts and Feelings About Sephiroth (Part 2)

There was originally going to be just one part about what I think and feel about Sephiroth, but it turns out I have more to say than I thought I did. You can say I'm passionate about Sephiroth. Not a day goes by without at least thinking about him several times. Lol Anyway, if you haven't read my previous post, here's the link because I will describe things I have said in the first part in more detail.

My Thoughts and Feelings About Sephiroth (Part 1)

As I mentioned before, I can identify with Sephiroth. At first I didn't consider him an idol considering how different we are, but I realized about the similarities we have, even if those similarities can be different. I hate mentioning my former friend, but she used to be someone that took advantage of me, a lot of the time without my knowledge. So I know how Sephiroth must have felt after discovering that everyone lied to him about his origins. Now his situation was extreme compared to mine, but the key thing is we were both betrayed somehow. It's difficult to handle, and we both took it hard, with Sephiroth taking it farther than me. Betrayal, whether big or small or somewhere in between the two, isn't pleasant, especially if those who betray you are people you thought you could trust. I know what that's like, and it's not an easy thing to just brush off as if it were nothing.

To further prove how Sephiroth and I are similar is our personality traits. For starters, we are both quiet. Now it's hard to tell online if someone is shy or outgoing, but believe me, I'm one quiet girl. I'm real timid in real life. I don't think Sephiroth was timid, and I bet he was just sheltered growing up. Be honest. Hojo sucked as a father, and Sephiroth wasn't treated like a human being. So Sephiroth may have been socially awkward, which can appear as timidity or coldness. I'm timid and I can get a bit anxious, but I hide it really well. I'm not a social butterfly, and neither is Sephiroth, but that doesn't mean I'm purposefully ignoring others. It's just I'm not good at socializing. I am socially awkward myself and people have to get to know me to know the real me. Others saw Sephiroth as cold and distant, but they didn't even try to get to know him. Angeal Hewley and Genesis Rhapsodos saw past this and became his friends. Sadly others see me as cold and distant as well, and to be honest it hurts. I bet it bothered Sephiroth as well. Or maybe he didn't care, I don't know. I'll believe that it did bother him. Of course, despite our shortcomings, Sephiroth and I do have friends (well, Sephiroth used to have friends). I may struggle to be social, but I can bond with others. I mean, hello! I have my boyfriend, his friends, my family, my own friends, and my online friends. Sephiroth had a few close friends, but at least it's something. Angeal and Genesis. I swear, if things didn't get so screwed up, they would have been best friends forever. Heck, Zack could have been a great friend to Sephiroth if he was given the opportunity. In a way, they could have helped Sephiroth back in Nibelheim, but the damage is already done.. What I'm trying to say is I understand this real well because I've been there. It just makes me want to give Sephiroth a hug and possibly a kiss to comfort him and let him know that I care. Though he might be annoyed by my affection. Lol

The next similarity we have is we're intelligent. Unfortunately a lot of people don't see me as intelligent, but Sephiroth's intelligence is what has me striving to prove to others that I am all while improving my own intelligence. They just see me as a girl with average intelligence and I was once accused of being an idiot. I wonder if Sephiroth had naysayers always doubting him. Looks can be deceiving. I'm not what others claim that I am, and it's annoying. This brings me to my next point. When Sephiroth was still part of SOLDIER, others might have perceived him as so many things, which includes being cold and distant and such. I've said this already, but this isn't just assuming that someone is cold or timid or whatever personality trait. It's about others assuming things about others that may be false. Sephiroth didn't consider himself to be better than everyone else (prior to Nibelheim of course). Heck, he didn't even show interest in fame to the point that he allowed Genesis to take it, possibly unaware that he was jealous of him. Maybe he tried to do that to ease his jealousy. Though Genesis should have handled his jealousy better. Before you assume anything about a person, either get to know the person or keep it to yourself until you see who they really are. Otherwise, it can be damaging to them. It was to Sephiroth. Something tells me all those soldiers had mixed opinions about Sephiroth, many of them potentially formed out of false assumptions and simple ignorance. Okay I'm getting too deep into this due to my own personal experiences, so I will switch to the next similarity.

Sephiroth and I hate certain people. How else can I explain my former friend that I have mentioned plus other people? Although Sephiroth took it to an extreme and hates everyone, I can still relate. Now it doesn't mean I will be as destructive and cruel as Sephiroth, but I can relate. Everyone at ShinRa treated Sephiroth like an experiment without his knowledge. He was never told about his origins. He never knew his parents. Then again, never finding out that Hojo is his father is a blessing (unless he somehow found out already?). He was deceived and manipulated ever since the day he was born. Correction, he was manipulated BEFORE he was born! He has the right to hate those who mistreated him. However, that doesn't justify any of the horrible things he did. Now my case is nothing compared to Sephiroth's since I was simply deceived by certain people, but my dislike for them is reasonable. Seriously, who would be able to let someone pretend to be your friend only to harm you emotionally and verbally, try to control you, spread lies about you, and basically destroy you? That's what my former friend did, and I hate her. All the bullies I've encountered throughout school? I hate them too. But that doesn't mean I would try to hurt them back because that wouldn't make me any better than them. I was given one opportunity to tell off my former friend online after I cut off contact for years. I told her to get well because she was sick, but she was getting better. She insulted me, not directly, but she did imply it. I was furious. But what did I do? I kept my mouth shut, told her to have a good life, and bid her farewell. Telling her everything that she made me feel and how much I loathe her would have only caused trouble, and the last thing I need is for her to stalk me online or try to pick a fight with me since she's freaking insane. She got angry over tiny things, physically assaulted someone just for being rude, as in getting into a conversation between the skank and someone else. Like what the fuck?! She could have told him to wait until she was finished. She was not psychologically well in my opinion, but I'm not one to confirm it because I'm not a psychologist. I thought she had changed but I was wrong. All my suspicions I had about her have been confirmed. Everything. And I vowed to never speak to her ever again. So Sephiroth and I may have handled our hate differently, but it still counts as something we have in common. Looking back, I see Sephiroth as an extreme version of my hate, anger, and pain, making me picture what I would have been like if I had taken it too far. It's a bit terrifying for me to imagine, and I am glad that I have more good inside me.

Now the next thing is something that still affects me to this day, and it's this. Sephiroth and I have felt like we were different, that we didn't belong anywhere. Having an identity crisis isn't fun, and Sephiroth is proof of that. He's not like everyone else. He's the only one with long silver hair and green cat-like eyes, he's part-alien, he's the strongest of all, and he always felt different because of this. I feel like I'm different because I'm not as outgoing as many people, I get worried about what others think of me, I'm not as confident in myself and my talents, and people don't pay attention to a wallflower like me. So I'm trying to improve myself and find my own place where I belong. Sephiroth found his, albeit in a rather dark way, but I have yet to find myself. But I know I will soon, and I have loved ones who can help me.

With all of this that I've said so far, Sephiroth means a lot to me. He means a lot to me more than I thought, and just by typing this, I'm realizing that he's a character that I love and admire in the exact same level as Sonic the Hedgehog. And as silly as it may sound, I get defensive when others talk smack about my favorite fictional characters like Sephiroth. Why? Because he's someone that I can identify with, regardless of the myriad of contrasting characteristics that we have. Opposites attract!

Now what else I wish to talk about related to Sephiroth...Well, there's his current self. I can hear those that say he's a cruel bastard that will kill you at first glance in milliseconds. My boyfriend and his friends think so. Well, you know what? It's bullshit. If that were true, then why didn't he kill Zack, Tifa, and Cloud immediately? Why didn't he kill Cloud and his team right away during numerous points in the game (other than the fact he needed Cloud to get the Black Materia for him)? Because he's not just a one-track mindless killing machine! This may be an unpopular opinion, but really, Sephiroth doesn't go just "Kill kill kill! Stab stab stab!". You kiss him on the cheek, stab. You compliment him on his looks, stab. You try to join him in his cause, stab. You try to have small talk, STAB! It's boring, predictable, and annoying. Do you really think I would do that on my Sephiroth blog? I would have grown tired of it! I deleted the posts about this, but do you want to know how many characters, users, or whatever I've had Sephiroth kill in roleplays???........One. That's right. One, a character that a friend roleplays as here on Tumblr, in a span of....a year-and-a-half, I think? If I had followed the "logic" of Sephiroth the utterly mindless killing machine and does nothing else, I would have had him impale over 1000 characters, users, anons, etc., maybe 10,000. You get my point.

This sort of thing strips everything about Sephiroth. He's cunning, arrogant, and manipulative, so of course I would have to implement that in his interactions if I want him to harm or kill a character, for example. And in some cases, I portray Sephiroth as just being intimidating, mistrustful, and bitter towards characters. In others, he is intrigued by who he's talking to, and he shows a range of emotions (as long as they fit him). I make him multidimensional. Really, try portraying Sephiroth as just a killing machine and nothing else and see how long it takes for you to get tired of taking out tons of people's muses in split seconds. I'm sorry if this portion became somewhat of a rant but it has been bugging me. Moving on to another Sephiroth subject.

Ahhhh, the theories. I almost forgot about them. Let's see, the lab rat theory is kind of possible, but ShinRa didn't blatantly abuse him. Otherwise, Sephiroth would have had serious psychological issues prior to Nibelheim. If he had endured severe physical and psychological abuse, he wouldn't be calm and collected. Of course he was abused to a degree, but the thing is he didn't know he was abused. He had no idea ShinRa used him as just a tool. That's clever of them. Cruel and despicable, but clever. They had to be discreet or else Sephiroth would have questioned their motives early on or tried to get away from them. Sephiroth was their puppet, which does explain why he referred to Cloud as his puppet. If others manipulated him to screw him over, he will do the same back at them. Sephiroth basically gave them a taste of their own medicine. Unfortunately, he takes it out on the whole planet. Think about it, though. He was deceived and manipulated by others, and this is his way of showing others that he will never allow himself to be controlled by anyone anymore. And this brings me to the next theory.

Jenova possessing Sephiroth is a famous theory and I don't blame people for believing and supporting this. I confess that I used to believe this theory as well, but as I looked back at the events of Crisis Core and Final Fantasy 7, it doesn't make sense. First of all, after being used by an evil company his entire life, why would Sephiroth allow himself to be controlled by an alien that arrived to the Planet millennia ago? Yes, he was at the library at ShinRa Manor for a week reading endlessly about his origins without sleeping, and possibly eating or drinking anything. Obviously that must have left him vulnerable, but I don't believe Sephiroth would have been brainwashed easily. He was controlled by ShinRa, and he wasn't going to allow anyone else to control him again, especially Jenova. Sephiroth was the one who controlled her, not the other way around. If Jenova had gained control, that would undermine Sephiroth's reputation as the main antagonist of FF7. He is the villain, the real villain, not Jenova. Sephiroth burned down Nibelheim. Sephiroth killed many people. Sephiroth killed Aeris (or Aerith) in FF7. Sephiroth summoned Meteor to injure the Planet in order to absorb its life stream to become a god. Sephiroth created the Remnants to achieve his goal to claim the Planet as his own, become an unstoppable god, and bring despair to those who stand in his way. It's all Sephiroth. And besides, Jenova is a parasite. I doubt she would have planned all of this before trying to destroy the planet. I also doubt she's even alive. Sephiroth is the master of his ongoing desire to take back what he believes is his planet, conquer it as a god, and destroy anyone who stands in his way.

Alright then, this post has gone long enough. Now I'm not sure if this is all I have to say about Sephiroth. Well, I assumed that I did’t have much else to say in the previous post, and look! Here's another one. I like doing this sort of thing. It makes me feel good and I just love Sephiroth. I could go on forever if I want, but I’ll end it here. I hope you liked this and if there’s any more things that I haven’t said here, I’ll make sure to do a third part.