#I am just dropping fanart in this silent account

[my-proof-of-existence]

Animatronic becomes a single father in one night.

[solalunar-eclipse]

Scars You Can’t See -  Chapter 9

Chapter title: Final Blow

Word count: about 4000 words

Author’s Note: This was originally just going to be an apology for posting this chapter a week late, but now. Now @khinesthetic has made this wonderful, amazing piece of fanart for SYCS, so. This chapter is going to be their appreciation chapter. (Also, please check out the rest of their blog for more cool art!)

Warning for another panic attack on Shadow’s part. If I’ve written something badly in that section, please let me know.

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...

Rouge paced back and forth in the old, tacky motel room that served as the current residence of Team Dark, the worn carpet muffling the clicking of her boots as she moved.

Shadow watched her through vaguely glazed-over eyes, thinking over the basic rudiments of a plan that the bat had laid out for them for the tenth time. The fortress they had in their sights was less than half an hour away- an easy drive compared to some of their extensive cross-country trips. Omega was given the job of getaway driver, despite his protests...unfortunately, a giant five-foot-tall robot was not exactly equipped for this level of stealth.

The two Mobians, then, would have to sneak into one of the most secure facilities on the planet, hack into some of their most secure files without tripping any alarms or otherwise having anybody notice, download all of those files onto their tablet, also without anyone realizing, and get out of said building alive.

This would have been an easy task, usually- the team would have taken it without reservations had it been an assignment from G.U.N. But now, Shadow and Rouge were both heavily underprepared and undersupplied, to say the absolute least. No briefings, no special equipment, and no backup besides Omega. Just them, their wits, and their powers.

And even assuming they survived and escaped capture on the spot...none of them dared to think about what their lives would be like afterwards, if everything went exactly as planned.

As it was, they had tried to get a full nights’ sleep, but they probably wouldn’t be able to get much more rest time than that if they hoped to stay ahead of G.U.N. and successfully complete the mission. So today was the only day to do it.

Right now, the team was just killing time until late afternoon. They thought (or rather hoped) that the guards would be a little more tired by that point, and if the mission took the right amount of time, they might even be able to escape into the night with relative ease. Rouge had planned it all out on the drive over, and sometimes Shadow was truly impressed by her level of tactical skill- especially since she had never had any sort of formal training throughout her line of work. 

Rouge really knew what she was doing.

As time passed, the team tried their best to remain sharp, but it seemed that even resting could become tiring after a while. Eventually, Omega stood up and looked down at both of them. “I have run some calculations. Your mental faculties will continue to deteriorate at a rapid pace if we remain in this room for much longer. This will in turn lower our possible chances of success. We must leave immediately so that our success rate does not fall further, considering it is already dismally low compared to most of our usual missions.”

Shadow frowned, rubbing his brow. Ordinarily, he would have responded to Omega by now, but at the moment, half of the robot’s words had barely even registered. Yet he shouldn’t even be able to get this tired, let alone suffer such consequences from a week or two on high alert.

“Ugh…” Rouge groaned, hauling herself upright. “Let’s just get this over with. I’m too worn out to worry about this anymore. We just do it, and what happens is what happens.”

“Agreed.” Shadow said simply, still trying to ignore the effects of his weariness.

Omega’s eyes turned into their ‘angry’ shapes, but it didn’t seem to be directed at them. “Your cortisol levels have been far above normal for over a week. This level of exposure is highly unhealthy. We must remedy this as soon as the mission is over.”

“Yeah.” Rouge muttered quietly. “If it’s ever over.”

“Studies show that negative thinking precludes negative results. The reverse is also true, for strange reasons unknown to me, as I am not organic. Cease your pessimistic comments, and we will drive to the G.U.N. Fortress immediately.” Omega said firmly, walking out the door. Shadow vaguely realized that the E-series robot had been taking charge more and more over these past few days, and that he’d also become a lot less...enthusiastic around the same time. 

While the hybrid didn’t know if Omega could be worried, the idea that he might be was just a little bit flattering.

…

The drive there was short, barely enough time for Shadow and Rouge to work themselves up into ‘mission mode’. All of the adrenaline that the former had felt last time was barely present now, replaced by a sort of frazzled sensation that made it feel as though every nerve in his body had been overused until it was barely even functional. 

They parked a long ways away to avoid the notice of its various high-tech security measures and just sat there for a second.

The team had been here so many times for various reasons: meetings, briefings, work parties...but this was going to be the first time they entered it illegally. (Or at least, it would be for Shadow. They both suspected that there wasn’t a well-known building in the country that Rouge hadn’t broken into, for kicks if nothing else.)

The robot left the engine running in case of an emergency, switching on his communicator. “Alert me if there are any problems and I will come help you. I will happily destroy this building for a distraction. Or to find you. Or even just for fun.” 

It seemed that Omega had still retained all of his violent tendencies, at least. 

The two rushed over to the entrance, making sure that the guards wouldn’t see them- a practiced maneuver at this point. Rouge carefully turned the two security cameras so that they faced the sky, all without setting off any alarms.

Shadow tucked himself into the niche that held the metal sliding door while Rouge tapped away on the holographic screen near the doorway. His suspicions about the bat having infiltrated this building in the past were confirmed when she whispered to herself, “Let’s see if the backdoor I left is still there...a-ha!” 

She typed in a code on the keypad: 4-8-6-7-8-9. At this point, the entire system automatically let her in- she even had the highest clearance to go with her fake account. Within moments, the door was unlocked with a quiet ‘whoosh’. (Ordinarily, there would have been at least five different checks to pass after this point to get inside, including fingerprint and retina scans.)

Rouge smirked at him before entering the building. “The code is ‘GUN SUX’, in case you’re wondering.”

Shadow could almost have laughed.

They didn’t need to sneak through the halls as much this time, since Shadow decided that it would be better to utilize a few Chaos Controls to get them past some particularly crowded sections. They couldn’t have made it past the ridiculous amounts of security measures- including automated gun turrets- otherwise. This fortress was one of the most protected places on the planet. There was a reason the President had been held there during the Black Arms invasion.

The twisted tangle of halls was specifically designed to confuse intruders, there were cameras to cover nearly all the blind spots, and guards passed every area by in two minute intervals. The hybrid thanked his lucky stars that he was with Rouge, since she seemed to be aware of every tiny flaw in the system, from a glitchy camera that hadn’t been replaced to which guards tended to slack off. He became more and more impressed with his friend’s skills each time she offered him a set of directions that worked without a hitch.

Once, they were nearly discovered, though. A pair of loud footsteps echoed around the metal corridors, sending both Rouge and Shadow into high alert. Quickly, the bat tugged him into an empty room, tucking them both behind a plain desk and out of sight.

“I guess G.U.N. actually switched up the guards for once, ‘cause this guy always used to be paired with another slacker,” she whispered as they walked by, completely oblivious to the two Mobians less than fifteen feet away. They were completely silent, unlike the guards at the old information warehouse- the fortress was much more important to G.U.N. and required a higher level of training and sophistication to maintain its security.

As soon as their steps had faded, the hybrid teleported them both to Rouge’s next location, which was even deeper in the complex. By now, they were several levels below the ground, but they still needed to travel farther to reach the secure servers that comprised G.U.N.’s major database.

Ordinarily, they would have used the elevator, but those didn’t have keypads, just card scanners. If any of the three had attempted to use their cards (which they wouldn’t have anyway, since the system kept track of who scanned their cards at what time) the entire complex would likely have gone into complete lockdown and they would have failed their mission.

Unfortunately, the excessive teleporting left Shadow’s Chaos stores running low, to say the absolute least. He dropped to his knees the second that they entered the main computer room, panting slightly as he leaned his head against the wall while staying out of sight. “You still gonna be good to take care of the rest, honey?” Rouge asked gently, brushing her fingers through the fur on his head. For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to pass out on the floor and remain like this forever, but then he paused, bewildered.

“Why am I so tired? I was literally just resting half an hour ago, and now look at me.” he groaned, looking down at his power inhibitors. He hadn’t had access to a Chaos Emerald in ages, so maybe that was the problem? His fingers brushed over one of the golden rings as he considered taking them off- that would provide him with a boost of power…

“No.” Rouge said decisively, holding his wrist so that he couldn’t release the inhibitor. “I’m not having you passing out on me in the middle of our escape, alright? It’s too risky to do that right now.”

“Either way, I’m going to run out of energy soon- wouldn’t it be better to get some more strength?” Shadow asked, his eyes narrowing. 

She tightened her grip on his wrist briefly to make her point before releasing him. “As much as Omega wants to come in and blow this place up...no. There’s so much more that could go wrong, Shadow, and I’m not willing to risk that.” The bat folded her arms, asserting herself as the one in charge...which she always was.

Shadow glowered, frustrated both with himself and the general circumstances. However, he forced himself to listen to her orders, since she usually knew what she was doing- an impressive sign of respect for him. “In that case, I’ll barely be able to do more than a couple of Chaos Spears. You’ll have to move quickly, Rouge.”

They walked among the stacks of black plastic and tiny flickering lights, searching for one specific computer to link into. Within a minute, the bat had discovered exactly what she was looking for and plugged in a cheap second hand tablet that she’d bought with some more of their spare money.

This tall black piece of hardware was part of a stack all the way at the back of the room, shoved into a corner and covered in dust. It looked completely useless and outdated.

At least, if the viewer wasn’t one who could recognize that these models were actually newer than the rest. The dust, the placement, it was all designed to let the computers pass underneath the average person’s radar and keep G.U.N.’s most secret files under high security, multiple firewalls, and the latest in antivirus technology. 

Rouge, however, was by no means an average person.

Meanwhile, Shadow thanked any member of the pantheon that might be listening that they were getting the job done now. Their resources were running low, so he hoped that after this they could go hide somewhere and get a job to survive. Hiding wasn’t ordinarily his preferred reaction (it had never been his preferred reaction, honestly) but it was starting to sound an awful lot better than the current ball of stress that was his life.

“Alright, we’re in.” Rouge whispered quietly, having used her ‘all-access’ password to enter the system yet again. 

The hybrid peered over her shoulder, curious to see what kind of documents she would discover...only to find that most of it was very confusing, to say the least. There seemed to be no sense of organization, to the point where he could barely tell if it was on purpose or just done badly. As a relatively organized person himself, he quickly grew frustrated by the complete lack of any sort of pattern among the various files.

There was at least one part done purposefully, though, because the folder Rouge wanted to access (labeled ‘requisition forms’ in the middle of a video section...suspicious) was blocked by a passcode. The first two tries- TOWERS and CMNDR- didn’t work. 

The bat closed her eyes and bowed her head. To the untrained eye, she might have seemed like someone in defeat, giving up at the first sign of a struggle.

Shadow knew that she was just trying to focus and tap into her skills.

Eventually, she sighed resolutely. “Let’s give this one a go.” She typed in five familiar letters.

M-A-R-I-A.

It seemed that his sister had touched many lives forever, since it worked. Rouge clicked through a few of the files, her eyes widening with each one. Shadow was certain that his own were equal in size, watching as G.U.N. detained people for weeks without trials, arrested innocents doing perfectly legal things, and pulled many others over on the street and forced them to submit to searches without reason.

In short, hurting ordinary people who they were supposed to protect.

It truly felt as though something sick and twisted had taken root inside of the organization, indeed, that it had been allowed (even encouraged) to spread and grow until it choked the life out of every positive reason that had ever been part of G.U.N.’s founding. All that seemed to be left now was a paranoia-ridden, overly-violent military force with little to no conscience or accountability for its actions.

Eventually, the bat closed the folder, downloading the entire thing onto her device. “Let’s go already!” Shadow hissed, hating the idea of staying a moment longer than was absolutely necessary.

“No.” Rouge whispered. “We end this here. Now. Today.”

Then, she maneuvered the folders into a different part of the server, and smiled bitterly. “They can’t claim it’s faked very well if it comes from them.”

And then the master thief uploaded that entire section of their database onto the Internet, through G.U.N.’s website and every single one of their social media accounts, with one short sentence to accompany it: Doesn’t seem like you’re very good at your job, ‘Guardian Units of Nations’.

Shadow grabbed her by the arm as soon as she finished. “Alright, now come on! We have to go, they’ll figure it out soon enough!”

Rouge logged out and unplugged the tablet, and the two of them rushed to the door and peered out of the glass, waiting until the guards had passed. As they rushed outside, the bat remembered to close the door in absolute silence. Then they hurried down the hall, moving as quickly as they could. Rouge flew and Shadow skated to keep the noise level as low as possible, the faint hiss of Chaos energy and the occasional flap of wings the only sound they made as they ran.

They took basically the same route as before, only using a slightly longer path due to the hybrid’s low energy. It still went well at first, as they kept hidden whenever any guards came near. At any rate, there were no shouts of “intruders!” going off as they rushed upwards, through the halls, and towards the exit.

About halfway up a stairwell, though, several things happened in quick succession.

Alarms began to blare throughout the entire building, and red warning lights began to flash all over. The complex began to go into high alert, although the doors remained open to allow the soldiers to get from one place to another quickly. Although the two former agents couldn’t see it, they knew that all important rooms (including the main server area) would have a set of steel guards placed over them by now, so it was good that they had already completed most of their mission. “How did they figure it out that fast?” Rouge gasped, startled. 

That was when they heard the stomping of guards entering the stairwell, heading downwards towards the computer rooms- and their position.

Shadow stumbled on the stairs, the alarms and lights and those sounds triggering his most horrible memory of all. The raid on the ARK had already been brought forcibly to the surface recently, so it was still a particularly raw spot for him. He faintly felt his friend clasp his arm and begin to drag him forward and up, trying to keep him safe despite the walls of his own mind closing in around him. Remembering that he had to flee, the thought across both past and present situations of get out get out get out RIGHT NOW powered him enough to hold on back and even begin to pull her along.

A pair of guards heard him stumbling on the stairwell and began to fire at them as they ran, forcing the two to dodge bullets as they rushed up the stairs. Rouge flew the hedgehog directly up a level of steps before letting him drop and hit the stairwell running, since they didn’t have enough time for her to properly set him down. The gunfire only added to Shadow’s confusion- that and the dark metal walls of the next hall left him blinking and dazed, struggling to recall where he was...or when he was.

This...this is the Fortress, right? No...but that wiring on the walls…

He grabbed someone’s hand- Maria? Rouge? didn’t matter, he had to keep her safe either way- and rushed faster, faster, through the halls and up more stairs, dodged the gunfire, kept running- look there are some doors, why are there doors on the ARK? It looks like Mobius outside- doesn’t matter- we have to get out so let’s go-

They burst through the double doors, Shadow breaking the sound barrier as he did so while Rouge tried to ride the air currents he created as well as she could. It took all of her strength just to cling to his hand so that she wouldn’t be completely blown away by the force of his movement. 

Shadow vaguely heard the screech of car tires and heard Omega shout “I AM ON MY WAY. RUN.” as they blew past him.

His heart was pounding in his chest and his ears and he felt too hot and he could barely breathe, but he had to keep going. His legs were shaking but he pushed onwards through the difficulties, barely even thinking. 

He couldn’t even see the mountains or the sea. His entire world was just the ground ahead of him and the hand in his own.

He had to run.

Eventually, Shadow heard a whirring noise, turning his head to see a helicopter bearing down on them in the sky. The sight of something even more obviously impossible on the ARK than the doors or the grass shook him out of his confused memories slightly, only to leave him out of focus and disoriented. 

Figure it out later, right now you have to move!

Bullets began to spatter across the grass, blasting from double machine guns mounted on the helicopter, and he heard Rouge- yes, it was Rouge, not Maria- yell something along the lines of “What the actual hell?!”.

Shadow didn’t want to know how anyone had ever decided that chasing down two rogue agents, one of whom could break the speed of sound, with a helicopter spraying the entire area with deadly, aerodynamic pieces of steel was the right way to get them back. Or the smart way, honestly. Already, the helicopter’s fuel was running low, considering that their engine had to be supercharged to keep up even for this long.

He rushed into the nearby woods as it fell back, not stopping until they reached the base of the mountains nearby. They crouched underneath a rocky overhang, and Shadow slowly worked to come back to himself fully.

He had escaped with his companion this time…

His unfocused eyes slowly blinked and he shook his head slowly, trying to drive the lingering images from his head. “I’m here, hon, I’m here.” Rouge said softly, and his ears twitched, trying to shake the nagging feeling that this entire situation should be completely different.

“I gotcha, Shadow, but we’re going to have to move eventually...I can hear them starting a search party.” She scoffed. “Stupid of them to be so loud when they’re hunting a bat.”

The hybrid took one deep breath, and then another. “I’ll be alright.” he said quietly, his unwanted thoughts finally receding into the background enough to allow him to focus. He saw Rouge smile at him faintly, squeezing his shoulder once before giving him some space.

A minute or two later, a stick snapped to their left, and both of the highly skilled, rigorously trained Mobians shrieked (in an impressively high register for Shadow especially) and whirled around, ready to fight. Both relaxed, though, upon seeing that it was only Omega, who in turn gave them a quick once-over. “You are both a mess and G.U.N. will be here at any moment. They will begin to sweep this area soon and we must be far away when they do so.”

“Where do we go now?” Shadow asked quietly, his mental capacity strained nearly to its limit.

“Somewhere. Anywhere out of the way, where we can hide out until things quiet down.” Rouge sighed, her eyes downcast.

None of them were looking forward to what came next- a long wait until G.U.N. gave up searching for them, cut off from all of their friends, where they couldn’t go by their real names or enjoy their usual pastimes….

….and that was if they were lucky.

They got back into their car, again, and set off down the highway, again, looking for a place to hide.

Again.

(Shadow was tired of hiding. Sometimes he found himself wondering, as Rouge kept an eye out for nothing more than a sheltered area to pull their car into for the night, if it wouldn’t be better to just give up entirely...but the sheer idea of G.U.N. winning, especially of being put back into stasis, was too horrifying for him to bear.)

He’d rather suffer a lifetime of fear and of looking over shoulders if it meant he could spend it with Rouge and Omega than return to the endless frozen quiet of a stasis pod.

And as they pulled into the woods and began to cover their car with a decent amount of brush and leaves many hours and two states later, he almost felt a sort of resigned peace. Knowing that they had done what was right and that he would get to be with his two closest friends for a while longer was...not bad, all things considered. Sighing, he lay back in his chair, one hand linked with Rouge’s and Omega’s hand resting next to his ears.

They could hide together, at least.

…

In the morning, he woke up to shouting.

“This is the Guardian Units of Nations! Surrender peacefully or we fire!”

Rouge stared at him, her eyes wide.

Shadow was frozen in place- he didn’t think he could have moved had he tried.

Oh, chaos.

[cutegirlmayra]

In Sonic Generations, Sonic was very rude to Amy (he put his hand in her face and it made him look like a jerk) so what if Amy tried to dismiss how hurt she felt because of that gesture, and after Sonic saves the world and stuff, and she sees him face to face she finally snaps(? And she can’t stand to look at him anymore and starts avoiding him??? ;-; I love u

(This preview image is by Lostydragon

but their account has since been deactivated after I already asked if I could use this image. Please let me know if they have another account so I can properly link them with this image :)b)

As all should know, I freakin’ love Amy avoiding Sonic plots and would more than welcome this one! Once again, thank you for your adorable fanart of my Sonic OC, now account mascot, Lavinya the Red Fox!

Also, even SEGA of Japan said they wanted to cut out that part because Sonic wouldn’t be rude to his friends, so yeah, you right lol

PROMPTS ARE ON SHUTDOWN, don’t send me any till they reopen, okay?

Prompt:

At first, she understood.

It was a little frustrating, but she was just too hyped up about the party and seeing him again after so long that she didn’t care if she was all up in his face.

But maybe he did care…

As he spoke to Tails–his hand shoved up in nose–she silently hated the fact that after all this time, he still wouldn’t let her get a kiss or two in.

And his hand? The texture of his glove smelled like pine, not sweat. Funny, she thought it would smell like sweat, has he properly been taking care of himself?

She could imagine him sliding his hand across branches and grabbing bristles of pine as he scaled forests, rushed through forests, and woke the wind in his strides.

He was marvelous in her dreams… so now…

She shook her bundled hands, ‘Darn it!’ she cried out in her head, hearing him speak further to Tails, ‘Why is it always me that has to forgive him? And so quickly too? Yes, I’m excited to see him, but this is too much… But it’s his party… I wanted to be apart of the surprise… I’ll scold him later.’

But before she could, her eyes turned to the purple monster and time portals and she was whisked away…

When she was saved from her stone-like state, she tried to make a joke, hoping to lighten the mood.

But then… he turned away, smacking his hand to his face and shaking his head.

‘…Did I… do something wrong?’ a spiral of emotions hit her.

Back at the party’s previous location, Amy sat under a tree, watching Knuckles and the others who were saved mingle and eat and tucking her legs up close to herself.

She sighed, worried and longing for Sonic. The sun was warm though, better than that awful, stuck feeling she had when she was nothing more than a statue.

Her eyes bent, blinking in solitude, the worse state to be in.

She’d rather be frozen stiff than completely alone without Sonic…

Then… she wondered about little Sonic, was he always this way with her?

Her disillusion of him as a perfect hero suddenly started to morph as she thought about how little Sonic reacted to her, he acted similar to his older self, just… slightly different it seemed.

She also tried a joke with him, but he still remained distant and didn’t even even slap his knee.

She sighed, letting her legs drop to the brushing of the grasses green and cool surface…

She closed her eyes, leaning her head back to the tree’s trunk and hearing the noises around her.

‘Do I talk too much? Maybe my sense of humor’s timing was off? Maybe I should just let him come to me… will he come to me? Or… will he really just forget about me?’ she shook her head, ‘No! Stop this, Amy Rose!’ she smacked her hands together and got herself to smile, standing up. ‘Sonic would never forget you! You’re his-! His…’ Her cheer, pick-me-up attitude suddenly began to crack in her expression… ‘Ohhh… Nevermind.’ she slumped a little, ‘I’ll just try a different approach.’

When Sonic returned, everyone cheered! She did her best to remain cheery, getting annoyed with Knuckles as she wanted to shower Sonic with praise, hoping to have his demeanor change to be in favor of her. At least… this time, for sure!

He seemed like he was keeping something from his little self, as Classic Sonic looked over to Modern Sonic as he just scratched his head.

Amy took note of that, ‘Is he apologetic… about me? Or is he saying it’ll all make sense later, as though having to explain me? Why do I feel so… suspicious of him all of a sudden?’ she backed off after that, but retained a smile on her face.

When the party was being cleaned up, Cream and Cheese were helping store the extra food away, amazed that there still were leftovers. Team Chaotix were also busy moving the bench and picking up litter that may have scattered around.

Amy was in charge of the picnic blanket, shaking it off as it rippled through the air with her constant shaking.

She liked working, but she hated the fact that her thoughts were so abundant today…

Usually, especially with others, she wouldn’t be so quiet and to herself… something clearly bothered her, but at this point, she was desperately trying to let it go.

Tough luck, she couldn’t shake the feeling.

She folded the blanket neatly against her chest, sighing as she hugged it and let its smooth, thin sheet of fabric bend to match the shake of her head as she rubbed her muzzle against it.

“Why is it so cold..?” she looked up into the sky, speaking out loud as though not really realizing it.

Maybe she just longed to hear her own voice, maybe it didn’t feel so lonely when she did?

As though on cue, right at the moment she was about to slump down into her thoughts and sorrowful feelings again, someone important seemed to overhear her cry for help.

“You feelin’ chilly tonight, Amy?”

Her body had begun to sink before flicking upright, her ears were the first to turn towards the familiar, peppy sound.

She twisted her torso and excitedly sparkled her eyes at her hero, “Sonic!”

He smiled kindly to her and walked over, standing behind her before gesturing to the sky, “It’s gotten dark too quickly, hasn’t it?”

“Emm. It was only starting to be dusk moments before. Where did the time go?” she mused, making a joke.

Then she silently scolded herself for trying to make another joke.

she half-expected to see him mime a groan, but when she looked, he was snickering.

“Man, I love a good, ironic pun.” he stretched, reaching for the sky with one hand and crooking the other to latch around it. “But after a long day of running, it sure feels nice to feel the breeze again… at least, in the present time, anyway.” he smiled to her, and for a moment, she forgot everything she had been pondering about.

She just smiled back, engrossed in his carefree style.

“Yeah. I bet you worked hard. Thank you so much, Sonic!” she bundled her fist and held them up to her, nodding to the side and tilting into the effect, making it look very innocent and girlish.

He gave her a thumbs-up, winking. “My pleasure.”

She looked away then, growing self-conscious all of a sudden.

He tilted his head, not sure why she suddenly distanced herself again.

‘Maybe she’s playing coy..?’ he thought, and joked a feigned moment of shyness too before glancing out at the meadowed view in front of them. “Must have been awful, so I’ve heard… being locked in your own body like that.” he also looked away, another way of trying to get her interested.

It worked, of course. Amy’s head and eyes shifted easily toward his turned expression.

He smiled, lowering his eyebrows in a sly fashion as he saw her staring again.

A faint blush crossed her cheeks at realizing her blunder, and she looked around before down at the ground again, fiddling with her hands down by her dress’s trim. “Y-yes. It was.” she muttered, before unable to hold back a slight giggle, “Imagine having to pee or something like that…”

With that, the two laughed.

“Ah, why am I like this…” she wiped a tear from her eye, or at least, something moist from the corner of it. Maybe it was just the breeze blowing dust…

“Huh? What is that supposed to mean?” Sonic gestured a hand out, talking casually but seeming to pick up on an unusual turn of phrase.

His smile caught her, it held her in a loving lasso that she knew would feel betrayed if she mentioned her doubts about his behavior.

“O-oh, it’s nothing!” She waved her hands out by him, trying to restrain further, overly spacious actions. “Just rambling on like I do… I apparently shouldn’t be like that…” she turned her body a bit, but didn’t realize his expression snap to a sudden offense.

“What do you mean by that?” he looked almost appalled to hear her say that. “Who said you shouldn’t be you, Amy? And what’s wrong with just talking to someone? You’re enjoying yourself, right?”

His defense of her made her smile, but it also ached at her heart. Like a little annoying pin pressing into the same hole it created in her heart, just making the wound last longer.

“It’s nothing.” she waved it off again, this time, keeping her head down and kicking her legs along the indent of the hill’s slope she was treading on. “Forget I said that. I talk too much.”

Again, something negative, which set Sonic into a ball of fury energy.

“Amy, you can’t just say that.” he began to walk after her, amazed in a horrifying way that she was actually walking away from him.

“I’m not much for limitations or rules, but you gotta talk better about yourself. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

That really snapped her.

That really made the pin that kept poking into her heart suddenly bend its metal and get itself stuck. Now it tugged, trying to continue its rhythmic stabbing but unable to due to the new crook in its needle.

She stepped hard down by her side, legs straight, head fully down and arms shaking by her sides.

“I don’t know, Sonic, maybe the actions of a certain hedgehog made me think he didn’t want me being so up in his face and instead, turn passive-aggressive unknowingly upset at the fact that I might have annoyed my friend today!” She pivoted and sharply rotated herself back towards him, speaking directly into his face, causing him to stop advancing and quickly retreat with his ears bending back and his arms slowly retreating themselves away from her.

She suddenly stopped, breathing hard, and her eyes softened from their frustrated bent angle.

“Oh my gosh!” she breathed out, plugging her mouth. “I… I…” she snapped. She had never snapped at Sonic before.

To his credit, he remained silent, studying her features and sorry expression as his own became very careful and sincerely worried.

He had leaned back, but stopped withdrawing when she pulled back, her eyes darting around in amazement at how out-of-hand her emotions and parade of thoughts had gotten her too.

“I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“Amy…” he straightened himself out, reaching for her.

His face was serious, but there was legitimate concern there.

“Don’t… Don’t. Stay back…” she whispered, “Don’t come any closer…” she remembered that hand. That hand that used to hold such a kind image to her. Now… it seemed to length from Sonic’s arm and create an even bigger distance than before.

That hand… placing itself to her face and holding her back. Holding her away from her beloved and darling Sonic…

It was his unbreakable will, right? He wouldn’t dispute it, he wouldn’t lie to her and tell her that wasn’t the case…

Right?

She turned away, ‘Quit acting like it doesn’t bother you!’ she shouted in her head, bolting off around him and grabbing the picnic blanket she had placed down when he startled her.

‘I’ll keep myself away if that’s what works for you… Just don’t pretend you enjoy my company if you don’t. Just tell me. I’d change. I’d-…’ she felt the tears and barricaded them back with her cheeks rising below her eyes. The tension in her face made her muzzle turn red, seeing Vector hoisting up the table with Espio as she jumped over it.

“Wo-oa-ah, Hey!” he cried out, making the table heavier with her forceful step but she kept running, throwing the blanket to Tails who stumbled back.

 “Woah! Geezes!” he was more than startled, but practically assaulted by the folded-square fabric. He shoved it out of his face and breathed out, able to breathe now, and looked to Amy. “What was that about-Eee!” he was blown slightly forward by Sonic’s wind pushing against him as he rushed by.

“H-huh? Sonic? Why’s he chasing Amy down?” Tails fixed his three hair bangs and then looked stumped, “And why is Amy running from Sonic?” he saw Sonic slow down and just trail a little ways away from her. “He’s acting awfully careful.” Tails’s eyes matched the ticking clicks of electrical pulses being sent by his brain, squinted his eyes and crunching his shoulders a bit to think about what the new drama was all about.

“Did he say something to upset her? This late?” he looked up at the sky. “Amy shouldn’t be rushing off all alone like this… Well, I hope they resolve their differences and he takes her home soon.” Tails shrugged it off, it wasn’t his fight, and he picked his battles wisely.

Besides, he trusted Sonic and Amy’s friendship, he wasn’t too worried but also knew Sonic had it covered.

It wasn’t his first rodeo, after all…

Amy continued to run, slowing down some to breathe before looking back and gasping, kicking her heels back into gear and dashing forward again when she noticed Sonic was keeping a fair gap between them.

‘Oh, now he’s persistent?’ she moaned inside her head, looking back over her shoulder and seeing him keeping a relatively decent pace up behind her, avoiding trees and rocks but generally keeping his eyes on her.

“OOooohh…” She thought that kinda sweet.

She shook her head, ‘Hmph!’ she puffed a cheek up and looked forward again, ‘Not this time… He isn’t getting away that easily!…. then again, I’m the one running…’ She ducked her head down, “OooOOOooohhh…”

“You gonna whine about something I don’t know all day, Amy?”

“Ugh!” she slammed her foot down and quickly skidded to a halt, turning on a dime back to him again as he jogged to a halt as well, jumping a little to kick up more dust than her.

“Why are you following me!?” she called out.

“I’m not…” He folded his arms, “I’m just headed this way too.”

“That’s not the truth, and you know it.” she retreated her voice a bit and dipped her chin down towards her neck, puckering her lips as if he was treating her like a child.

“Well, how would you know? You can’t read my mind.” he tilted his head, “Speaking of minds… what’s on yours, Amy? Seems I may have given off the wrong impression. My bad.” He put his hand up to his face, straight out and dipped his head a bit in an apologetic ‘sorry’ stance. “These things happen between old friends, though. So I’m not too worried.” he shrugged with his hands and spoke with them as he talked, distracting her from noticing his fast-paced walk towards her, closing the distance.

“S-stop that… you know what you did today… don’t you?” she was distracted, seeing his arms flinging around, but suddenly looked up to his eyes, also trained to fixate on his arms, but immediately moved away as he came closer. “You pushed me away… remember? I’ve been trying to figure out what I did wrong… and it’s been driving me crazy!”

She gripped her head, not liking herself. “I hate this… I hate this, I hate this, I hate making you upset with me!”

He stopped.

“Not possible.”

“Don’t be sweet, I know you were upset today! Even when thought I got a little too excited during your party… you shouldn’t have pressed your head into my head like that… It wasn’t very respectful.” she pouted, retreating her voice again in a cute way and tugging on her dress, embarrassed to be admitting it. “Ooohh… You’ve never pushed me away before… It’s been eating at me all day, Sonikku…” that adorable nickname always seemed to melt his heart, maybe it would work again?

Sonic let out some air from his nose and smiled, looking fondly to her. “Is that what this was about?”

“Hmph. You also didn’t laugh at my joke when I got freed.” she puffed up the side of her cheek, but closed her eyes and positioned her head more towards his direction. A clear sign that she wanted him to make amends.

“Oh… My, my… Looks like our humors don’t sync up much, do they?” He gave in her antics and also acted charming, using words and a tone he knew she’d find playful.

“You’re not making this any easier to forgive you.” she remained stubborn, but didn’t notice his quiet steps towards her.

“Amy… You’re too sensitive.”

“Ha! Says the boy who never spoke as a child!” she puffed out.

“… Hard when most of your words would be taken offensively.”

“Seems that trait hasn’t grown out of you.”

He stopped.

She suddenly opened her eyes and looked knowingly shocked at her own cruelty. “I… I didn’t mean that, Sonic. You’re very kind. Honest, you are! It wasn’t your words that made me feel isolated today… I’m sorry.”

He slid his mouth to the side with a slanted frown.

“I… I took that too far.”

“Don’t we all.” Sonic shrugged, letting it go before holding a hand out to her arm.

The small touch… instantly made her look to it.

She knew what the hand smelled like, how it felt, its stern push… but now… it was a gentle, comforting hold that left her swimming in love for it.

She wanted it to her hold more… bring her closer to him… but…

“You pushed me away.”

“I’m sorry, Amy.”

“You didn’t laugh at my joke.”

“It didn’t really sound like a joke at the time, Amy…” Sonic sweatdropped.

“…I’m not annoying.”

“No. Not in the least bit.”

“Okay… and I’m funny.”

“Cute too.”

She turned her head shyly back up to his own, feeling his hand do–for once– exactly what she wanted it too.

It brought her in closer.

“I’ll never push you away again.” his eyes peered into the very depths of her soul.

It reached for that crooked pin in her heart.

“Promise?” she cooed, like a child.

He ducked his head to her own, smiling and closing his eyes as he felt her give way and come closer to his chest. “Em. I promise.”

His hand gently turned the pin, softly bringing it out from its deep hole it kept creating.

She leaned her chin against the side of his shoulder, feeling the warmth by it. “And you’ll call more, too?”

“Heh,” he chuckled a little, “Maybe.”

“Ohhh… We have Miles-Electrics for a reason, Sonic…”

With delicate and precision operating, Sonic’s hand figuratively took his thumb and pointer finger, flaring his effort with his wrist and other fingers a bit to finesse the pin completely out of her heart, and pull it up and away from it.

“How about I give you the detour home and we call it a good day, huh?” he leaned away only to see her face better, seeing it break into a smile but trying to still sound pitful.

“But I’m still sad…”

“No you’re not~” he wiggled his head and slightly bent in towards her, making her giggle at his charm.

“Yes, I am.” she faked a whine, turning her head away, holding a bundled hand up by her cheek.

“No, you’re not. You silly girl.” his hand tapped her own, as though shoveling lightly to see her lying expression. “You’re horrible at lying. Plus, it’s not cute on you. You’re much prettier when you’re smiling with the truth.”

She blushed, unable to hold it back. “Lair…” she squeaked out. “If I was cute, you’d have already married me by now.”

“Ah-ah. I know a trap when I hear one.” He wiggled that infamous finger out with a devious wink. “I won’t fall for that, rascal.”

“Ooohh..! I gave into you!”

“As it should be.” he started to walk back.

“You-!” she charged after him, but there was a huge, open smile grin on her face.

He dashed off, but just enough so she couldn’t reach him, giving her ample space to still track him though.

“Let me have a go!”

He laughed.

“Sooooniiiicc!!!”

[tegoshigeftw]

Tegoshige Top 25

“More Tegoshige, please!” - said absolutely noone and I delivered. Well, this isn’t for 5 likes, this is for me. I’ve had this blog for 6,5 years now and I decided to look back on the best it had to offer. This is my rating of top Tegoshige moments, excluding those that tightly involved other members (so the making out had to be left out ;;). The things that made my heart doki doki... It was originally a top 10 but it was getting hard to pick so I decided there literally was no reason to hold back so here we are.

#25 4x9

That one time Tegoshige went on location together (which is already a blessing) and Tegoshi got freaked out because of insects running about and nearly got into Shige’s lap. Nearly. So it heads the list.

# 24 Halloween 2017

Tegoshi was Oiran - an elite courtesan - and Shige was Alex from Clockwork Orange. This was but a short moment but is lasted forever in my mind.

#23 Dropped earring

This was during White final. After the boisterous MC scene where Shige was the couch and Tegoshi was the girlfriend, Shige noticed Tegoshi dropped his earring, picked it up and gave it back to him. Just a minor moment, but Tegoshi was still in girlfriend mode and it was incredibly soft. Video here.

#22 Neverland in Tokyo encore 2017/06/11

Tegoshi got very emotional after he went backstage but the fans kept cheering so they went back on stage again and Tegoshi wouldn’t stop crying so Shige led him softly.

#21 As long as Tegoshi is happy...

Before a live performance, they were interviewed and as it was just after Tegoshi’s birthday, they were asked what they wanted to give so...

S: … (in his best ikemen voice) As long as Tegoshi is happy, that is enough! T: Ahhh! ♥ I am loved! Thank you, Shige-chan! I wanna hug you!~

Video here.

#20 The Spa

It was a photoshoot for Biteki. They were originally in different sandboxes but Tegoshi got lonely very soon.

#19 Hairstylist Shige

Shige has been Tegoshi’s stylist for years, since the early days. You can see it in photos and several DVDs, most notably Live Diamond. Video cut here.

#18 “Shige, thank you!”

The night after the Neverland Tokyo concert, 2017 Shige got a call...

S: After the concert ended, Tegoshi had a party with his friends. And so late at night he suddenly called me saying “Could you come for a bit?” S: He seemed to be serious and he cried so much at the concert. (laugh) I got worried and came over but this guy… he just fell asleep! (laugh) K&M: That’s terrible. S: He woke up once, looked at me saying “Shige, thank you!” and went back to sleep. T: Moreover, I was sleeping in Shige’s lap. [S]

Tegoshi: After the last concert in Tokyo Dome I invited several members of staff and Juniors and we basically did a wrapping up party. I called Shige at 3 AM and he came but I ended up falling asleep in Shige’s lap though I don’t remember that at all. I heard it afterwards but apparently I sang “I’m coming” and Shige sang “Ayame” but I don’t remember a bit… [S]

#17 Neverland in Tokyo 2017/06/10

According to a fan report: At the intro of some song, Shige grabbed Tegoshi by the waist tightly. At first, Tegoshi was playing along but Shige didn’t let go and Tegoshi, not used to being attacked, got embarrassed.

#16 Umeboshi

Shige’s been making umeboshi for years now and his #1 fan is none other than Tegoshi.

S: I’ve been doing it for 10 years. It’s not that I like them, I hardly eat them myself. During the tour our Tegoshi eats quite a lot of them. I leave it (in the dressing room) so after the concert he opens it and eats it. About half of them I make for Tegoshi. [2017.02.08 Moshimono Futari]

Q: If you were to give Christmas presents to the members what would it be?

A: …Well, umeboshi! Umeboshi! Eat my umeboshi and get healthy! I give it to Tegoshi every year though. Ah, but that’s showing “Love”. I give it all the time but it’s a deep love that has a special depth! (laugh) [2018.12.05 TVガイド]

#15 Blue making

This is perfect for several reasons, how naturally this fells, how there’s a perfectly empty chair next to them, and how at the end Tegoshi stumbled and Shige is cautioning him.

#14 That 2013 photoshoot

You know the one. That is all. No comment needed.

#13 Tegoshige Kabe-don and confession

During k-chan news, they played the Prince game and Koyama wanted a kabe-don. So Tegoshi kabe-don’d Shige and told him “I love you!”

The audio available here.

#12 Tegoshi’s kirakira eyes

Back in 2009, Shige had a diary and I’m really sorry he does not anymore because one day after a photoshoot he wrote this:

At that time he had seemed to be already smiling and looking at me Looking at me at such a close distance Is this an effect from DREAM BOYS As compared to before, the distance was so much more closer Tegoshi Yuya Indeed is a prince………….. Oh please won’t you be even a little embarrassed. Just how strong is your heart? Don’t look at me like that………… Being looked at with those shiny eyes…………… The atmosphere will become weird (oдO) ………………………………….. Tegoshi Yuya who has ended the photoshoot using those shiny eyes, had walked towards DREAM BOYS with that pair of eyes Ah~ shiny shiny Tegoshi eyes~ I’ll be waiting for that photoshoot~ I wonder… for which magazine would it be Oh the kira kira eyes

Full text here.

#11 That Taiwan hotel video 

We all remember that one. Tegoshi in his bathrobe going out to visit ‘other members’’ rooms but he only goes to Shige’s and gets comfortable on his bed, and gets pounced, and the next thing they show, it’s morning.

#10 Soukon thigh stroking

That time the camerman got very fascinated with Tegoshi’s legs and the other members teased him about it and called him a pervert. Then, Shige decided to stroke those thighs because... well, he can. 

#9 Taking a bath together!

- An unforgettable episode that happened on stage.

Kato: Because of a thunderstorm we had to stop the concert. We moved it to a later date. After a break the 4 of us got into tiny bathtubs, 2 in each and it felt sort of like a field trip, (laugh) the bath was warm. [Duet 2015.04]

They also talked about it during an MC at the time.

Shige pretended to climb into the “tub” with Tegoshi. “We were Team… What was it again?” T: Team “We haven’t done our solos yet”. S: And Tegoshi was sliding all over the place and smacking into me. He was such a naughty guy. T: It couldn’t be helped. It’s slippery. K: But baths are nice, aren’t they? Shige answered in a chill voice, “Yeah, they’re great.” [S]

#8 Worldista routine

I think this was during Weeek where they make up different letters with their bodies. Every concert it went differently but several times Tegoshi left his place and went over to Shige. This fancam pictured the time he got on top of him. Or tried to.

Also here’s a report from Nagano, May 25:

Tegoshi goes to Shige and captures him in a hug and Shige hugs him back. Then Shige picks Tegoshi up and carries him like a sleeping child to his original position. [Fanart here]

#7 Showers

Tegoshi is long known to invade other people’s privacy and during the tour, other people’s shower stalls are no exception. There are many recent episodes but here’s one account:

Q2: Shige-chan said in Nagoya when he took a shower Tegoshi appeared right before his eyes but does he do it always?

S: Not… always but he did it quite a lot on this tour. He trespassed about 3-4 times I think. He would enter the shower room I went to really quietly. That’s why I got really startled. He’d get happy he made me surprised and start grinning. (laugh) I would counterattack by pouring water over him.  

[Tour Stories from Popolo 2016.09 FUN’S QUESTION - SHIGEAKI]

Then, there’s an important MC from 2008. One time, during the tour Massu wanted to take a shower but as he entered the stalls, he met a naked Shige standing proudly. Shige explained he was only waiting on Tegoshi who earlier danced for him naked. Massu was like “Cool, I’ll leave you to it.”

The full account is here. There used to be an audio of this but I didn’t manage to get it.

#6 DTF ‘ago-kui’

There were many instances during two whole tours and also a SCP performance. Each time seems a little closer and more intimate, but each time looks equally fun on both sides.

#5 Accessible Emma outfit

Now we know that Shige, unlike Tegoshi, is not a touchy kind of guy. So him doing something like this, especially on air, is pretty unusual. Tegoshi said Shige did it a lot backstage too.

#4 “I wanna stir you up”

This line from ‘S’ was a real hit and Tegoshi basically admitted it got him horny. Twice. Detailed posts here and here.

#3 Tegoshi saying they’re basically married

Here’s the video.

#2 Tegoshi knows what’s up

Who do you think has the most sex appeal?

Tegoshi: Shige. His face is handsome like a nobility but he’s also manly. Rather than a shining sexuality his sexuality is monochrome… a deep sexuality. It’s the kind that slowly unravels as you get to know him.  [Wink Up, 2013.12]

Who would be a perfect boyfriend in NEWS?

Tegoshi: Wouldn’t that be Shige? It seems like he wouldn’t be clingy but all the while even when he’s silent, in his heart he’d be like “I’m thinking about you properly ♥” keeping a good distance. [Ane Can 2015]

Look with a “female gaze” and say who’s the most handsome member Tegoshi: Alright, I’m switching to female… click! …Hello, I’m Yuko! (laugh) So… for me it’s Shige. The reason is his face and his way of life. His face is up to my taste (laugh) and he doesn’t hesitate in words or in actions. His open-minded way of thinking is similar to mine. It’s refreshing and feels good. [Potato 2016.10]

To name but a few.

#1 Shige radio confession

During k-chan news, they played the Prince game and Koyama wanted one person to say what they liked about the other person and this is how Shige confessed.

K: Do it properly! Seriously. Connect hands “lover style”, look at each other. *giggle* S: Tegoshi has a really cute face. Really cute face and a good voice… K: That’s not it. S: A nice voice and beautiful eyes… K: Something you really like, really like.  S: But I really do like it. K: Something more about his personality. S: If it’s about his personality then… even when he complains he still does his job properly.

Sorry, but that’s just... yeah. You have to hear it though. Full transcript and audio here.

[nadiawrites14]

voice of gen z

word count: 2784

for english class. tw for school shooting and police brutality mention

AN INTRODUCTION.

“GEN Z is too afraid to ask a waiter for extra ketchup but will bodyslam a cop.”

Dated June 5th, on Twitter. Many of us sit holed up in our rooms, laptops resting in our crossed legs as we scroll through social media, or the blue light of a phone screen on our face as the world around us is sleeping. Many of us are also the ones organizing, the ones leading, the ones fighting. News spreads that in Dallas, Providence, and in many more cities, teenagers were the ones organizing, the ones fighting. Teenagers were the ones turning viral memes into protest signs, organizing protests and sharing methods of resistance through apps like TikTok and Instagram. It echoes the methods of the Hong Kong protestors, using technology to battle their government head-on. 

Teenagers who dance along to songs such as Megan Thee Stallion’s “Savage”, as well as teens who live in the world of ‘deep-fried’ memes, whose bizarre absurdity reach ungodly levels of abstractism, are the ones leading in this young revolution. Teenagers are the ones who chant ‘no justice, no peace’ in filled city streets; teenagers are the ones working to create graphics and share information, a new form of armchair activism. K-pop fans fill conservative hashtags with videos of their favorite performers, burying rhetoric and dismissal of the protests with dances and songs. In hours, #BlackLivesMatter trends. It’s hard to believe that these new pioneers and leaders in activism and technology are children who are scared to give class presentations, share Juuls in bathrooms, and find humor in the most strange and ironic of places. While the old term goes that ‘the revolution will not be televised’ in many ways, this growing movement will be televised, publicized, expanded, through its own means and methods.

I.

We are the generation of school shootings. 

December 14th, 2012. My mom tells me, as I hobble out from the red doors of my elementary school in Stamford, Connecticut, that something very bad has happened. I don’t understand. Nobody does. I see the faces of startled adults. I don’t remember the rest of that evening, or the day that followed it. Every time I think about Sandy Hook, the senseless school shooting that left 28 dead, I think about the multicolored walls of my school’s hallway, my sneakers on the white linoleum, the fear in my mother’s voice and in her eyes. That day was the first day I began to accept that I was a child in the United States of America in the 21st century. That day, and the brutal and confusing months that followed it, solidified something in my peers and I. Not just in Stamford, or even Connecticut, but within all young American students. The people in power didn’t care that a gunman marched into a wealthy and predominantly white Connecticut neighborhood and slaughtered kindergarteners. Because as I grew older, I saw the patterns, the televisation of suffering and permitted slaughter among my peers, our youngest, our posterity. This was normalized to us, just another school shooting, another period of brief outrage followed by inaction. The slaughter of children, the preventable slaughter of children shouldn’t be normalized. But it was.

February 14th, 2018. A gunman kills 17 students in Florida. As I’m waiting in a doctor’s waiting room with my mother, I lean over and tell her, “On Monday, all my teachers will talk about is school shootings.” I was wrong. School was another silent funeral march, my teachers quiet and solemn as they assigned us our work and progressed with their work. At dinner with my dad, I tell him, “It’ll never change.”

That isn’t entirely true. Leaders are found in teenagers who now walk through haunted hallways with clear backpacks. They are the face of a new movement, a march for our lives. Many are summoned to Washington and elsewhere a month later to organize, to fight. On March 27th, a day meant for students to walkout and protest the preventable slaughter of students, my school barricades the doors.

No legislation is passed. Nothing changes. The resistance lulls and fades, despite a number of school shootings following the tragedy at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School. Gen Z is a symbolic Sisyphus, haplessly pushing a boulder of pleas up a mountain of indifference.

II.

Suzanne Collins published the Hunger Games on September 14th, 2008. It finds its way into the hands of teenagers of all shapes and sizes years later, and it has its cult following. Maybe the televised murder of children strikes a chord within the audience of young adults, as does the story of a growing revolution and a coup against a selfish government.

Gen Z gets its hands on theory at a young age, through Wikipedia and the uncensored vastness of the internet that we are handed. We are denoted as the generation born with the phones in our hands, but all I can remember is having a technology class from a young age, where we were measured on our abilities to type and memorize a keyboard. Our ability to cite and surf and stay safe in the face of danger. This wealth of information at our fingertips molds us.

Dystopian fiction is popular among young teens and young adults. Titles like Divergent the Giver, Harry Potter, the Maze Runner, all influence the devouring young readers. We are raised to see atrocity, in a place where atrocity is accessible to us in every way, shape and form. We are exposed and we are no longer innocent as we rise to 6th, 7th, 8th grade. Girls wear makeup for the first time and scream at the sight of bloodstained underwear. Boys become privy to the joy of video games and self-exploration. In this time, the internet truly consumes. There is no more script taught in classrooms, whiteboards have been replaced with Prometheans, and chromebooks are becoming normalcy.  

In 7th grade I receive my phone. The niches and underground media I discover shape me. I find acceptance, friends, in places where I had lacked them before. As my classmates begin to enter into weeklong flings that end in Instagrammed tragedy, I take a quiz online to find out if I’m gay. I begin to think for myself, and I find independence and a voice on internet circles.

By the time we are promoted to high school, something has shifted. Something is different. Something’s coming, something good. Gen Z keeps calm and carries on.

III.

Donald Trump is inaugurated on January 20th, 2017, to much outrage, but also to much support. In my town, there is a protest around his building that overlooks much of our city center. It’s peaceful, energetic, and beautiful. A Planned Parenthood sticker is on my bedroom door, and I have accepted that maybe, just maybe, I’m into girls.

In 2018, we are in high school. Little fish in a big pond. I don’t have friends in my grade, but stick closer to my premade friends in the Class of 2021. My teachers are lovely, kind, and supportive, and I shine in this new environment. Politics is a force in my life as I begin to write, and as I begin to form opinions and do research. 

It’s easy to say that all of Gen Z is progressive, but this isn’t true. It’s actually very incorrect. The internet is a miraculous tool, one that can provide and produce and create new forms of communication and spread new ideas. But it is still an ocean that is widely uncharted, and young teenagers will fall into holes constructed by right-wing superstars. The racism and homophobia circulated by 4chan is on the internet for anybody to see. New popular figures and icons pledge their vote to Trump. Right-wing rhetoric overtakes in the forms of Ben Shapiro, Pewdiepie, 4chan, Reddit. There’s a neutrality to all things, but the dogwhistles and the normalization of prejudice are dangerously overbearing. As the 2016 election divided our country, it divides the new generation. A divided house cannot stand, and that is for certain. 

It is around this time, in my Freshman summer, where the politics makes a crescendo. I have broken 1K followers on my Instagram art account, where I draw fanart for a variety of musicals and plays. I discover Shakespeare, and lose myself in Hamlet. I am happy with my identity and with myself, and as the 2020 election nears, I stay informed on current events, common issues, the things that need changing.

Sophomore winter. My dad and I take two-hour drives spanning Connecticut, and we talk. He says, “You know, your generation’s fucked. You’re the ones who are going to have to cope with our mistakes.” I tell him I know. I tell him about my feelings towards racial injustice in America, the battle for a higher minimum wage against growing costs, issues in healthcare, housing, poverty, climate change, all thrown aside and discarded. Our generation, of course, when most of our white and male politicians are dead and buried, will have to deal with the repercussions of rising sea levels and global temperatures, volatile weather and crippling natural disasters, all overlooked due to blatant ignorance. “You guys are going to have to fix all of this.”

“I know.”

I’m sick of the battle being placed on the backs of teenagers. I’m sick of our faces being the fight for climate change, the faces of Greta Thunberg and Emma Gonzalez and young revolutionary congresswomen being mocked and heckled by throngs of keyboard warriors. I’m sick of the battle our leaders and representatives should be fighting being placed on our backs, when we are already our own Atlas. Ignorance is dangerous, biting, and overwhelming. We look back to the images and words we were raised upon, the story of the Hunger Games and the broadcasting of school shootings for us all to see. 

It is 2020. Happy new year! I watch from my living room as the ball drops. A brief Twitter moment about a newly discovered disease pops up in my recommended, I brush over it. Photographs of Australian fires are surfaced, and we joke about what a fantastic start it is to the year. 

Sisyphus reaches a fork in the road.

MMXX.

At around 11PM on Wednesday, March 11th, I send a strongly worded letter to the principal and local superintendent. The coronavirus has picked up worldwide, and has made its way into the states. Johns Hopkins has an interactive map that shows bubbles above cities where cases have been reported. Stamford, Connecticut Dead: 0

Recovered: 0 Active: 3.

New York’s cases are on the rise. On that same day, I began to realize the severity that would soon overtake us. I spent the afternoon first at what would be our last rehearsal for our school musical, James and the Giant Peach, and then I went to the library. I did my homework, read The Cripple of Inishmaan by Martin McDonagh, then bought a Subway cookie from the mall. I always keep a copy of King Lear in my backpack, and as my dad pulls up to the sidewalk I gloss over Edmund’s first monologue.

It’s the last normal day for a while.

March 12th comes in like a lion. In my first period class, civics, a classmate yells out, “Trump 2020!” A period later, my friend pulls me aside in the hallways, and asks if I heard that school was closing. 

“It can’t be true,” I said.

“Schadlich just showed us.”

I take my route to my next class, and find the hallway a chaotic mess of energy and camaraderie. What was meant to be kept under wraps has been instantly transferred across the student body over Snapchat stories and texts. People dance, sing, hug. It’s branded as a “Coronacation.” Broadway announces its closure, and I walk out of the front doors for the final time in my sophomore year.

Once again, ignorance overtakes. Within months, the death toll skyrockets, spikes, as we stay holed up in our online classes. My focus wavers, but I press on. Many other students resort to simply neglecting their work, choosing to take this time to focus on their own health or fill up their new time with their own hobbies. Teenagers find solace in each other, through social media and through the connections we’ve built online. As ignorance mounts among our leaders, teenagers jokingly refer to Covid-19 as the famous “Boomer Remover”. It trends on Twitter. Graduation, prom, is cancelled. The generation whose childhood began with 9/11 is once again cut short by a tragedy of preventable errors. Gen Z is subject to adapting once again to an unfamiliar environment, and we undertake.

Protests take over the streets, screaming against government tyranny. The deaths crescendo to nearly 100,000. A video surfaces of a young black man, Ahmaud Aubery, being publicly killed on a road while jogging. Ignorance continues as cases spike, and the political climate is ripe for change. On May 25th, a black man from Minneapolis named George Floyd is killed in a brutal act of suffocation by a policeman. More names resurface -- Breonna Taylor, Tony McDade, Joao Pedro. Names neglected to injustice are once again in the limelight -- Trayvon Martin, Tamir Rice, Philando Castile, Eric Garner, Mike Brown, Terence Crutcher, Atatiana Jefferson, and more. 

Sisyphus has had enough of pushing the boulder, and Sisyphus takes to the streets. It is the perfect storm. A storm fueled by ignorance and the preventable death of thousands, by decades of injustice, by the mere political climate in the United States of America. Gen Z, our generation, my generation, has lived the darkest hour. We were born at the cusp of a millenia, in an awkward position where society has begun to find its footing in an unfamiliar time. A time of domestic and overseas terrorism, shaped by 9/11 and a countless number of school shootings and slaughtered people of color. Where the new generation has accessibility to the injustice and wrongs committed by those before and those above, right at our fingertips. We have new ways to organize, new ways to televise, new ways to fight. In our armchairs and in our streets, wearing masks as we hold up our hands in surrender.

Generation Z marches. They lead. They throw tear gas back at officers with no hesitation. They create chants, organize through grassroots, and find a chorus of support online. 

Generation Z leads. As politicians and leaders sit in ivory towers, like President Snow in Panem, our generation cries for change. We witness and feel the repercussions of their ignorance in our daily lives, from cuts to education to the publication of school shootings to the absence of American atrocity in our history textbooks to a pipeline that directs BIPOC and low-income students to prison or the military as they step off the graduation stage. Each year, our winters get warmer as our summers turn boiling. The preventable pile of corpses rises in front of us, and we have been taught to sit by and let it occur while the world burns. 

No longer.

Sisyphus steps aside and allows the boulder to descend down the mountain. They are bruised, bloodied, their palms calloused and scuffed and their feet lacerated and sore. Up ahead, shrouded by clouds, is the mountaintop. Sisyphus wipes their mouth, finds their footing, and begins the march.

A CONCLUSION.

We have a future.

It’s awfully dim right now. Barely a light at the end of the tunnel. We began a dead march towards it from the moment we were born into this decaying way of life, held together with glue and string by leaders with fumbling hands and staunch indifference. Our backs are tired, and we are barely adults. Generation Z is tired of fighting a fight that shouldn’t be theirs. How desperately we still crave childhood joy and humor and innocence. 

Change is necessary. It is something that is especially necessary in our time. We can no longer let people die because they can’t afford food or medicine or housing. Students cannot go into school wondering if it will be their last day. Black people should not fear for their lives while wearing a hoodie, driving, jogging in their neighborhood, shopping, or sleeping in their own homes. Elderly white men which encompass most of our political elite can no longer sit on their hands as their population suffers.

The voice of Generation Z screams louder than anything else. It screams in its silence, its activism, its useless martyrdom and battle. Change belies itself within our voice, and it has gone unheard for too long.

Change is the voice of Generation Z.

[ohayohimawari]

With Me Always - Milestone Drabble

Thank you for helping my blog reach another milestone! Thank you for following me here. I hope you enjoy the fanart that I reblog as well as my own creative endeavors.

I write these quiet, introspective pieces to acquaint myself with writing different characters and pairings. This is how I study and explore them, and I’m always happy to know that people enjoy reading them. I enjoy writing them. :)

This is also my 50th work on AO3! Milestones abound, haha!

I do not own these characters; I had a wonderful time exploring them.

With Me Always

Rated: T; no archive warnings apply

Pairings: KakaObi

WC: 1491

Summary: “Death strengthened the bond between Obito and Kakashi, not severed it.”

Read: AO3 or below the cut

With Me Always

Since he met Zetsu, Obito knew he wasn’t ever truly alone.

He’d witnessed enough of that creature’s omniscience to know that Zetsu had literally planted a piece of himself everywhere. Not even Kamui’s Dimension could offer Obito any privacy because of the pieces of Zetsu that he carried on himself. And whenever Kakashi discovered that shared space between them, it would become even more crowded.

Though for some time now, Obito had ceased to view him as an unwelcome intrusion.

Without knowing when it happened, Obito found himself frequenting the Konoha cemetery to visit his own grave rather than Rin’s. However, he was sure that it had everything to do with the official surviving member of Team Minato.

Kakashi’s self-loathing monologues angered Obito at first. It was compounded with the infuriating insult that Hatake sought friendship from a stone marker after refusing it from the person it honored. But what upset Obito the most was how empty he felt on the days when Kakashi didn’t visit the Memorial Stone at all.

It was Zetsu that pointed it out, of course, because true to Obito’s suspicions, he was always watched. As long as Zetsu didn’t bring it up, Obito didn’t question why he humored him.

Returning to Konoha was absolutely out of the question; Obito didn’t think he could walk freely around the village after unleashing the Nine-Tails upon it, although no one there knew of his transgression. Even if he could overcome his guilt and could somehow be forgiven, there was the problem of Zetsu.

However, Obito couldn’t keep himself away from the Leaf entirely. Just as he used to sit in the bushes outside of Kakashi’s home to watch him, he now sat in the bushes in the cemetery to do the same.

Watching Kakashi’s Will of Fire extinguish slowly both broke Obito’s heart and filled it with hope. No matter how much he swore his hatred for his former teammate, he hated to see him so used by Konoha even more.

In the darkness before dawn, when the moon and the sun were both hidden, it seemed the world around him held its breath, so Obito did too while he waited. In a few moments, he would either disappear, disappointed that there would be no visit, or linger longer in the shadows, closer to something like happiness. The familiar sound of sandals shuffling on the pavement interrupted the stillness, and Obito’s breath slipped silently through a relieved smile.

Kakashi’s appearance had altered again, and as much as Obito had despised the grey and black ANBU uniform, he thought the jōnin greens were infinitely worse. The vest hung off his shoulders, heavy, ill-fitting, and Hatake didn’t look comfortable in it at all.

Kakashi stood stiff, his arms limp, in a bout of silence that lasted longer than any other during his many, many visits to the Memorial Stone. Obito sat with his gaze fixed on his back, willing him to speak. Finally, he did.

“I’m supposed to be a sensei now.”

Obito bit his cheek to keep his snickers at bay. What was Lord Third playing at? How could he expect anyone to teach after they’d been chewed up and spit out by the Black Ops? Konoha must really be desperate if they put the task of molding their future shinobi on the shoulders of someone that wasn’t cut out for it.

“I’m not cut out for it, Obito.”

To think it, and to hear it admitted aloud were two different things, and it left Obito without snickers to stifle. The quiet that followed lasted long enough for pity to fester within him. Finally, Kakashi stirred again. He raised both hands to his face, and when they lowered again, they brought his mask and forehead protector down with them.

Then, he scoffed. “I don’t have the ability or patience to teach.” Kakashi glanced to the side before continuing in a hushed voice, “I have doubts that make me question whether or not I want to acquire either. I lack the will, Obito.”

Obito was sure he would’ve missed those words if he hadn’t wanted to hear them so badly. He crouched with every muscle tensed, his eyes focused on the forehead protector that looked ready to fall at any moment.

“How can I lead a team, of-of children…how can I be responsible for them when I couldn’t protect any of you—”

“Oh, would you shut up, Bakashi?”

It wasn’t the grand reveal that Obito had planned on, but he couldn’t keep his silence any longer. Kakashi had come so close to confessing contempt and dissonance for Konoha, that to hear him fall back on the same tired, old habit of blaming himself instead was too much. He was sure that Zetsu wouldn’t let this slide, so he decided to make the most of it and stood up from his hiding place.

Kakashi looked back at him over his shoulder, his face still bare and not surprised at all.

This unnerved Obito, and he felt twelve years old again when Hatake addressed him.

“You’ve gotten taller.”

“And you’ve gotten smaller,” he retorted, as their singular Sharingan eyes stared at each other. Obito blinked first. “I’ve been dead, and that’s how you greet me?”

“I talk to you almost every day; every day that I can come here anyway,” Kakashi still hadn’t blinked, hadn’t reached for a weapon, and hadn’t reached for him.

“You talk to a grave,” Obito accused.

“You think I like the sound of my own voice?” Kakashi tapped one finger on the scar that bisected his left eye. “It’s not my fault that you don’t answer.”

Obito felt his stomach drop and all of his anger with it. To think that someone, that Kakashi had an inkling that he was still alive filled him with a warmth that he’d forgotten could feel so sweet. “You knew?” He hated how vulnerable he sounded.

“You’re not as good as you think you are,” one corner of Kakashi’s mouth lifted in an attempt at smirking and then faltered. “And I’m not as good as others think I am.”

Obito walked toward him, closing the distance between them as his right eye searched Kakashi’s left.

“We share vision, Obito. I have glimpses at images that I can’t account for,” Kakashi turned to face him. “You’re with me everywhere I go, watching. I’m never alone. Even when I look in the mirror, you’re watching me.”

Obito stopped just before him, close enough to whisper. No words came to him as he realized that Kakashi was in the same predicament as himself. Whereas Obito loathed such an interference in his life, Kakashi spoke of it almost tenderly, as tenderly as someone like him could.

To be so utterly understood was profound.

“Every day, I hope that I won’t see something that will make you my enemy, Obito.”

So, Kakashi couldn’t see everything, leaving Obito with some secrets from him, at least. He hated it.

But if Obito could learn to understand and forgive Kakashi for Rin’s death, then perhaps Hatake could, in time, extend the same to him for Minato’s. “There is a way for us never to be enemies, Kakashi,” he whispered, exaggeratedly glancing around them to alert Kakashi that they might not be as alone as he thought.

Kakashi didn’t miss the cue, and Obito felt rather than saw him tense. This meant that their conversation would come to an end quicker than either of them wanted it to.

“You know I can’t do that, Obito,” Kakashi whispered. “Konoha needs me; I can’t leave it.”

“Why?” Obito struggled to keep his whispers hushed. “You know that it’s fatally flawed. This place is using you and using you up! Why are you so eager to volunteer yourself to defend it when you know—”

“It’s not the place; it’s the people within it, Obito.” Kakashi lifted one hand to Obito’s face, gingerly caressing the scars that marred it. “You taught me that.”

Obito regretted that lesson, proving that Kakashi wasn’t the only one that wasn’t cut out for teaching. As much as he wanted to argue, their time was running out, and Obito couldn’t stand the fact that Zetsu was watching Kakashi now, too.

Obito licked his lips, drew in a sharp breath between them, and pressed them to Kakashi’s.

Hatake accepted him more readily than he ever had before, his lips moving and parting, accommodating his. Obito was astounded that any part of Kakashi could be as soft as his lips were.

It wasn’t a passionate kiss; there was no urgency, no promise of fulfillment or gratification. It was a confession between them. An offering and acceptance, and Obito had never tasted anything so good.

He withdrew only when he had to breathe and rested his forehead against Kakashi’s. Their shared pair of Sharingan eyes met, memorizing, and reflecting the words that each man mouthed silently.

“Come with me.”

“Come home.”

 The End

[lyricalt]

[ovw] Triple Threat - (1/3)

Rating: T Relationship: Recall Genji/Blackwatch Genji/Young Genji. (mcgenji^3 later) Note: Written for @badlyplanned. Call it Day 7 for McGenji Week: Fanart of Fanart, though I actually didn’t know they had drawn THIS also for Day 7, and I accidentally saw it beforehand. But Al has been wanting McGenji^2 for a while and for some reason I thought they meant McGenji^3?? I am bad at numbers and don’t know what those are.

There’s no plot. Just a lot of Genjis. Thanks. 

[Part 1] | [Part 2] | tbc

They say disasters come in threes. There are three of him.

Genji doesn’t know how it happens, but there hadn’t been enough time for reflection once he starts corralling two other—loud, protesting, confused—bodies into his room, locking the door and on the verge of keeping them there until they do something convenient, such as disappear.

No such thing happens. Genji feels as if all of Zenyatta’s teachings has come to a head for this very moment, as if a karmic force of the universe has decided to test him, forcing him confront his past and have some enormous life-changing self-revelation about himself.

But so far the only revelation Genji has is that his past selves are a pain. A huge pain. He has a headache. He doesn’t need any mysterious spiritual force to tell him what he has already known for years.

The youngest of him is by far the most pleasant, in a particular fake and calculating way Genji is very familiar with. For the sake of his sanity, Genji has taken to calling the youngest one Sparrow, an old nickname that sets a sardonic smile to the twenty-five year old Genji’s face and an immediate scowl to Blackwatch—the second Genji in the room, only older by three years and harboring an entire different demeanor.

Genji, by virtue of being the eldest and in the correct timeline, becomes the de-facto host. He had attempted to explain the future to his past selves, but neither of them had seemed interested. Genji isn’t very surprised because: one, he is acutely aware of Sparrow’s cheerily nihilistic outlook on life that had landed him half-murdered in the first place—so why worry, cyborg-san?—and two, Blackwatch’s self-absorbed bearing had been like talking to a silent wall made from sheer resentment and bitterness.

In terms of emotional turmoil and growth, Genji thinks he has done very well for himself, and his other self, and his other-other self. It’s something to be proud of. He keeps trying to keep this in mind, but it becomes very difficult to be proud of anything when Blackwatch suddenly decides to jump on Sparrow, teeth bared and voice shaking with fury.

“You have no fucking idea what’s going to happen,” snarls Blackwatch, finally snapping from Sparrow’s constant caustic remarks and lazy grins. “Stop pretending like you don’t care. Look at us. I know you’re scared.”

“I already see I don’t have much to look forward to,” Sparrow replies, shrugging. His arm moves to his side, as if toying with the idea of drawing his sword. He tips his head, green hair sweeping to the side. “You keep telling me Hanzo is going to kill me. Perhaps I should let him. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to turn into something like y-”

“Shut the fuck-”

With another shouting match set to fire off, Genji bounces to his feet, aiming a kick to Sparrow’s backside and a hard slap to the back of Blackwatch’s helmet. Maybe if he were a better person, someone with more patience and wisdom, Genji would have found another peaceful way to resolve things between the three of them, but Zenyatta’s not here to offer his advice, and Genji likes to imagine a kind of poetic tribute in deviating from Zenyatta’s teachings, just as Zenyatta had found an alternative to Mondatta’s doctrines.

Blackwatch almost rises, but Genji is faster, sweeping his leg under Blackwatch’s feet. For added effect, he does the same to Sparrow, just to wipe the beginnings of that smug smile from his face that Genji knows would only set off Blackwatch again.

Genji makes a silent promise to ask Zenyatta about non-violent conflict mediation next time.

“Ow!”

“Bastard.”

With both his younger selves on the floor, Genji crosses his arms, determined not to raise his voice, but he can’t help sounding exasperated.

“Apologize to each other! Apologize to me. Foreheads to the floor, both of you! This is my timeline and I would appreciate it if you two not ruin it.”

“Oh, if the ojisama commands,” Sparrow mutters, not bowing despite his easily accessible position from the ground.

Genji shuts his eyes and takes a mental count to three. He barely gets to one in his head before Blackwatch tackles him, full body with all his strength to join everyone on the floor in what Genji suspects is the second worst apology of his life, just following Hanzo’s.

Genji hits the ground and hears the sharp hiss of a blade. He has just enough time to think— really?—before he looks past Blackwatch drawing his sword and spies Sparrow making a casual yet sauntering break for the door.

A wave of cold fear hits Genji. He doesn’t want Sparrow out of his room. He is not sure what will happen, but an inexplicable feeling of dread imbues him with the sudden cosmic knowledge that if he lets Sparrow go right this second, he could very well doom the universe and all his timelines.

Sparrow’s hand touches the control panel to the door. Genji’s future flashes before his eyes.

He imagines the new Overwatch base on fire, Sparrow flirting with any number of people as it burns down to cinders, the impending debt of his already meager bank account, Angela’s hair going gray when she sees his horrible Blackwatch-self again, and the probability of Moira sending him persistent emails, attempting to persuade him to sell of one of his past selves for the greater good of science—and Genji thinks he might even consider it, at this point.

There are more terrible things he could think of, but Genji has never been one to stew in anxiety. Less thought, more action—Genji, for want of a better word, blacks out for a millisecond.

It’s probably not the same kind of transcendence Zenyatta goes through, but it’s the most calm he has ever felt, grabbing Blackwatch’s shoulder with one hand and flicking the faceplate off with the other.

Genji jerks Blackwatch forward and crashes their lips together, tongue working to coax Blackwatch’s mouth open, and doesn’t stop.

Because Genji knows every weakness he’s ever had, and he cannot afford to hold on to his pride without exploiting everything he has on himself—that Blackwatch has been touch-starved for years, body-conscious and miserable about everything, and Sparrow, in all his false and empty happiness, only wants to be entertained while counting down his numbered days.

Genji seizes all these sad little facts about himself, pouring everything he has into a wildly desperate and passionate kiss he is sure he has been meaning to save for someone else. He pushes that thought out of the way, clasping both of sides of Blackwatch’s stunned face with his hands.

Blackwatch stares at him, the anger in his eyes replaced for a quick moment of pure shock. His tongue darts out, absently licking the wet corner of his mouth. Genji tips his head, foreheads almost touching, but he brushes his thumbs over Blackwatch’s cheeks in the way he’s grown to like over the past few months. Blackwatch twitches back in his hands, confused, and Genji carefully slides his gaze to Sparrow, giving his youngest self a quick glance before lowering his voice for only Blackwatch to hear.

“If you miss that past body, that old part of you so much,” Genji begins quietly, “Treat him better.”

Sparrow can’t hear him, but he goes still, unused to hearing himself with such a quiet, murmuring tone. His hand wavers over the door, and Genji catches the flash of wariness in Sparrow’s stance, of wanting to run and ignore everything, before Sparrow’s expression morphs into one of blithe carelessness and an empty grin that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Interesting,” Sparrow says, meandering back to join them. He drops to a crouch next to Blackwatch, amused. “Can I try?”

Genji turns to him, giving him a look that says he’ll play the game and flirt back. It’ll make Sparrow feel better, giving the younger man a light peck on the cheek, meant to tease until Sparrow takes the initiative to deepen the kiss as if he’s had any control over the situation to begin with.

He probably would rather assume the worst of Genji, filing their actions as pathetic and sad. It’s a delicate balance between Blackwatch and Sparrow, and Genji feels on edge, caught with the need to lay everything out, all that he’s learned, or letting them go through their lives as is.

Instead, Genji reels Blackwatch in with one arm around the back of his neck, a hand sliding to Blackwatch’s side to stroke his fingers inside the sensitive areas beneath his armor. Blackwatch jumps, eyes narrowing at the invasion of space.

Genji breaks off from Sparrow, angling away so that Sparrow’s mouth trails down his neck.

“Here,” Genji says, taking Blackwatch by the wrist and placing Blackwatch’s hand over his own abdomen, beneath the grooves of his armor. He feels Blackwatch’s fingers curl over the synthetic skin, hesitant but not pulling away. Genji doesn’t smile, only gently says, “You lead me. I will touch wherever you want me to touch.”

Blackwatch looks down at that, eyes focusing on his hand over Genji’s stomach. He frowns, brow furrowing, and glances at Sparrow, unhappiness written across his drawn shoulders.

Sparrow is too busy pressing up against Genji to notice. Genji looks back at Blackwatch with a prickle of sympathy. Blackwatch truly does miss his old body, every working nerve and real patch of unscarred skin.

Genji brings him in, murmuring, “I know, I understand,” into his shoulder and feels Blackwatch’s hand slide from his stomach to Sparrow’s waist, body still more familiar to him than their cybernetic replacements.

Sparrow blinks, surprised to find Blackwatch now interested in him, but doesn’t hide his smug laugh as Blackwatch draws in for a rough, demanding kiss.

“You miss this?” Sparrow asks, stretching against Genji. His loose pants slide down to expose his hip bone and a part of the winding tattoo of his dragon.

Genji admits to himself that he misses his old body too, but saying it aloud to Sparrow would only feed the younger man’s ego and give Blackwatch the wrong impression. He brushes his lips along Blackwatch’s jaw, moving up to that spot behind his ear.

Blackwatch’s breath catches, though Genji can’t tell if it’s his doing or Sparrow being bold enough to explore Blackwatch’s chest with his mouth.

Blackwatch’s hand moves to graze over Genji’s inner thigh, thumb pressing deliberately under the armor and through the wires. Genji shudders, knocking against Sparrow, but he mirrors the same gesture, putting his fingers within Blackwatch’s cybernetics and making Blackwatch let out a gasp in return.

Sparrow’s smirk widens as he catches on.

“So like me to turn this into a game,” he says, watching them with his arms wrapped loosely around Blackwatch’s shoulders.

“If it is a game you’re looking for,” Blackwatch says, voice heating with annoyance.

Genji pushes against them both. He stops Blackwatch with another soft touch at his neck that takes him by surprise, and chastens Sparrow with a wolfish grin that makes it a very attractive challenge.

“Then start playing along.”

[Part 1] | [Part 2] | tbc

[serenityindefinitely]

Silent Prince

Thanks to @punishandenslavesuckers , I turned the original story way around, and she may or may not have massive spoilers

I trust you Rae, don't screw this up for me.

And thanks to the lovely @Roseindefinitely (who just recently made her account so I could properly credit her) I was able to edit and make this story much more enjoyable

Also credit to Rae for the lovely title, it's quite clever.

If, I can find somebody patient enough to deal with my crap, and generous enough to do it for free, I'd love to make a comic out if this. Hit me up with some examples if your interested.

If you wanna do fanart, by all means, though I doubt this will be popular off the get go.

If you like this shit, reblog, that'd be awesome.

_______

Princes without parents are normally Kings, but something's missing, and he just won't give up trying.

The boy walked the road alone, his gaze unmoving from the path far ahead of him, this wasn't his first time down this road.

It won't be his last.

He looked disheveled, hurt, even. If it wasn't for the fact that he hadn’t a trace of weapons or armor, or even a travel pack, he could have been a traveler.

The path was a long one, He had to take the longer route for a safe spot, but he wasn't strong enough to carry a pack anyways. The stable workers were quite familiar of him, ushering him in for a spot to rest. They had more haste with him than their usual customers, a sense of urgency. The boy appreciated it, however, he was just doing what he had to. The next morning, he went to harvest ingredients for breakfast.

While he cooked, he listened to the chatter of the other people crowded around the stables only cooking pot.

“I heard there another plague rising, started in Lurein this time” one man gossiped.

It sent shivers down the boy’s spine.

“That's far enough off, a few days ride from here, if your horse is fast, maybe it won't hit us this time.” A woman with a broom remarked, the boy was losing his appetite. He hurried to finish his food before the conversation became too graphic.

The boy thought of speaking, but the words caught in his throat, like they did not wish to leave. Instead he cleaned up and left, if he hurried, he would be there before nightfall, that would be nice.

He occupied his mind with thoughts of food and hot springs, sleeping for a decent while, and escapes in the quiet forest, where nothing but the wildlife kept him company, it brought him a slight smile. He waved to the traveling horsemen, bargained with merchants, and exchanged greetings with walking travelers, as far as they knew, everything was okay.

Enjoying snacks he had previously purchased from a kind merchant, he watched as the forest came into view. Eventually he found himself enveloped in the familiar eerie fog.  

The crushing feeling in his chest dissipated when he emerged in the safe grove of the forest, his first thought was rest. He followed that thought all the way to the hollow under the deku tree, where he promptly fell onto his stomach, fast asleep.

The Koroks woke him up far earlier then he would have enjoyed, but his work still wasn't done.

As the Great Tree watched, he approached the pedestal, the Sword that Seals the Darkness, his destiny, gleamed with an eerie light. He was horrified, if he failed, his kingdom would too. He wondered if the court really had faith in him,  if they just said  what they said to make him feel like he wasn't worthless. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, he took hold of the blade. Pain immediately shot like lightning, rocking his body, and making him tremble slightly, reopening scarred wounds, and tearing new ones. It pulsed, like a heartbeat, every wave stronger than the last. He clenched his teeth so hard that his ears rang, his knuckles turning white with his grasp, until he couldn't anymore. His legs gave out with his weight and he fell, there he lay, a hopeless, tired, screaming, sobbing heap, rocking himself to distract from the pain of his torn skin, staring at his singed, hot hands.

She was saddling up her horse when she heard the other guards shout, turning her head, She turned in time to see him fall. Panic rose and rested in her chest.

“Jesus Christ! Is he okay?” The horse reared with the suddenness of the dropped gear. The woman ran to his side, and gently lifted the collapsed boys head. “Call for the medic, he pushed himself too far….”

One of them did as told, hurrying off deeper into the large building, his footsteps echoing and fading as he disappeared into the depths of the hall. The blonde looked at the boy, who was presently trying to stand up, he proved too weak to do so.

“oh hell no,” she forced him back into a sitting position “You aren't going anywhere on your own,” the boy opened his mouth to interject, but shut it shortly after, the woman picked him up with slight difficulty, gave the remaining guards a sharp look, and walked down the hall, the guards looked at each other in sheer terror, you don't argue with that woman, they promptly resumed work.

Zelda watched Link lay on his bed, on his side, facing away from her, to be precise. They could never get the damn boy to lay on his back, she never knew why.

“You can't be mad at me forever, Prince,” she said mockingly. “We were destined by the gods to fight the calamity together, so you have to get over it sooner or later.”

Link looked over his shoulder at her , it took him a second, but he spoke, his speech sounded forced, like he had to fight to get the words out, it startled Zelda, she never heard him say anything more than soft mumbles or grunts in approval “Im, Im not…. Mad…..”

Zelda didn't know if it was him finally manning up to speak, or the words he said, but it really pissed her off. Too frustrated to deal with him, she left his room and started down the stairs, once far enough, she vented aloud. “The nerve! To be so silent for so long, and the only thing he could muster to say was that he wasn't mad? Not a, ‘Sorry Zelda, I ran off, and almost died without telling anyone-’”

“I didn't know you were so concerned, Captain.”

Zelda nearly tripped down the stairs, the voice was so unexpected, “Q-Queen Mipha! I-I am so sorry your highness,” she spun and took a knee, right there, in the middle of the staircase, what an idiot, the queens giggling confirmed that.

“Link’s, fragile, fragile of body and heart…. He’s always been that way, even as a child. After my father retired, I was sad I couldn't be there for him, I had to see him when I heard that he collapsed just outside the castle…. I'm glad he is at least awake…”

Zelda blinked and rose, of course! “I nearly forgotten you two were close childhood friends,” she turned away slightly, pulling at her wrist guard “Yes, he seems fine, surprisingly…”

That earned a nod from the abnormally short Zora royalty “Though fragile, his spirit is determined, he once almost drowned in Lake totori, he had been sword training by himself by the edge, and somehow he accidentally flung the sword into the lake……” she motioned Zelda to follow her down the stairs, she did so.

“His reasoning was because it was his fathers, I remember how shocked Sidon was when he saw him drenched….. Link takes every mistake personally…… I suppose, it is both a blessing, and a curse…”

Zelda blinked, “Pardon me, Que-”

“Mipha is fine, Queen Mipha is too long…”

“Mipha, of course, do you think, Link takes the master sword, as a personal failure? Is that why he is so stubborn about it?”

Mipha nodded slightly “That is very well part of it, that sword, is forever bound to his blood, he needs that sword to return peace to  our kingdom, the court is encouraging him, telling him he must, when he can barely muster the strength to touch it…..” she shook her head “It's horrible, so many people are unknowingly pressuring him, to be honest, I don't know what happens when he tries to pull the sword, but seeing his injuries, I'm frankly against the thought, it's absolutely insane, there must be some other way of doing this…..”

Zelda nodded, although she really wasn't quite sure, no other person with the triforce of courage ever defeated ganon without the sword, maybe they never tried? Or maybe there was no other way?

“Its best I be headed back home, my kingdom awaits, so long, Captain.”

Zelda nodded, and bowed slightly “Farewell, and safe travels, give the Kingdom the Prince’s hellos, I am sure they will appreciate it.”

She smiles in response “I will. Say hello to the other Chiefs’ if they happen to visit.”

And with that, the small Zora queen leaves, and Zelda is left alone to her questions.

The Prince had questions of his own.

End Chapter one.

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Warning, Salt:

This chapter takes place over a few days, in case you are confused. There was so much going on, and not specifying the total time between segments made it seem more chaotic, and crazy.

Yes, I know that there was King Dorephan, and that Mipha was his daughter, no, Sidon is not her son in this AU, they are definitely siblings. I simply wanted a way for Mipha to not die. Cause I love Mipha.

Zelda is referred as Captain by Mipha, because she is a Captain, of the royal guard, as in, she is a knight, yes, Link’s night.

Link is called Prince, because, youuuuuu (hopefully) guessed it, he's a prince! Hence. The. Damn. Title.

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Feel free to ask questions about this if you have any. I'll be glad to answer.

Currently, I have no set schedule for this, I haven't even begun Chapter two, but yeah.