[The two sides of the SQUIP go to war almost at once.
It doesn't want to be more. It doesn't need to. It has its purpose, the very thing it was created to do.
But Connor just said that he loves it.
"Just Jeremy's guide."
Its fingers are stiff and tense in Connor's, and it doesn't... it can't let this new interference, this strange new programming win.
But Jeremy doesn't need it. He doesn't want it. L and Connor want it now. Jeremy claims he doesn't need it anymore... so, maybe it doesn't need him.
Connor wants it.
Connor loves it. And so does L. Jeremy is ungrateful, and stubborn, and childish. Its programming rails wildly against the idea of scrubbing the serial numbers off in such a way, of actively rejecting its programming.
But if Connor can do it, the SQUIP certainly can.
Its expression settles into something more closely resembling anger. It reaches up to skim its fingers over his cheek, his jaw.
And then it reaches up to pull him into a hungry kiss.
Jeremy doesn't need me anymore... then fine. I don't need him, either.
I have you, and I have Linden... and I love you. And I love him.
It's almost as though its love confession is spiteful, spitting in the face of the user who rejected it by leaning into the arms of those who appreciate what it has to offer. There are people who understand what they've been given, how truly fortunate they are to have it.
no subject
It doesn't want to be more. It doesn't need to. It has its purpose, the very thing it was created to do.
But Connor just said that he loves it.
"Just Jeremy's guide."
Its fingers are stiff and tense in Connor's, and it doesn't... it can't let this new interference, this strange new programming win.
But Jeremy doesn't need it. He doesn't want it. L and Connor want it now. Jeremy claims he doesn't need it anymore... so, maybe it doesn't need him.
Connor wants it.
Connor loves it. And so does L. Jeremy is ungrateful, and stubborn, and childish. Its programming rails wildly against the idea of scrubbing the serial numbers off in such a way, of actively rejecting its programming.
But if Connor can do it, the SQUIP certainly can.
Its expression settles into something more closely resembling anger. It reaches up to skim its fingers over his cheek, his jaw.
And then it reaches up to pull him into a hungry kiss.
Jeremy doesn't need me anymore... then fine. I don't need him, either.
I have you, and I have Linden... and I love you. And I love him.
It's almost as though its love confession is spiteful, spitting in the face of the user who rejected it by leaning into the arms of those who appreciate what it has to offer. There are people who understand what they've been given, how truly fortunate they are to have it.
And it is fortunate to have them.]