Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans.

a/n: So I've been watching Sons of Anarchy like a maniac, and every time Ron Perlman speaks, I just kind of close my eyes and pretend it's Slade. Kind of deters from the show sometimes, but hey, who cares?

I don't have the time right now to work on To Burn, but I haven't abandoned it. I'll get back to it sometime.

Meanwhile, I've had this idea for a little bit. When I was young, after the End saga was over, I thought that because Trigon had died, Rage had died with him. In the context of the show, I don't think that's what happened, but it was an interesting theory all the same.

I also thought that Raven's emoticlones had personalities of their own - however, whatever it was they felt, it only reflected on the emotion she represented. For example, if Happy was sad, then Raven wasn't feeling very happy. If Brave was feeling good, then Raven felt particularly brave that day. It all depended on the intensity of the emotion.

Also, on a side note, I am considering a sequel to The Now. I'm not completely sure of the idea, so let me know what you think. If it pans out, I'll post an extra chapter in Now to alert you.

This was just a quirky idea I wanted to run with. It's not my best, but I got it out of my system, so here you have it.

Reviews, sharing, etc. are always appreciated.

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It was Rage who fell in love with him.

Who, you may ask?

Three guesses.

Not Trigon. Trigon was her creator, her source of being, her father in every sense. She'd even taken on his form once, when Dr. Light allowed her to break from the emotional barriers.

No. She worshipped Trigon, and despised Raven for smothering the destiny she had with him.

Two.

Not Malchior. Sure, she'd had her fun taunting Raven about him for quite some time, but Raven's hatred of the man stemmed from a broken heart. There was no real rage, only bitterness and hurt.

One.

So, truly, who was left? Who was left to have inflamed Raven's heart? Who had earned Raven's undivided hatred, loathing, utmost disgust?

You guessed it.

Rage was a simple emotion. Through meditation, Raven did her best to keep Rage locked up, stored away, festering in some dark corner of the Nevermore. Rarely did Rage have a chance to feel much of anything, much less do her work.

But when his hands touched and violated Raven's skin, when he held her over the world Rage so desperately wanted, she knew she was in love with him.

Of course, Slade would never know. After all, Rage was only a shadow, a fragment of Raven's emotional makeup. She was less than a ghost, less than a whisper. She had no real body. She had no life of her own.

And Rage could not make Raven feel love.

Instead, Rage made Raven hate.

Oh, how Raven hated Slade. Rage knew, as Raven flung her beloved to the ground and crushed him with stone, that it was her fault. Her feelings had caused this burning anger, this wrath, this rage within her host. The fact Slade had to endure the torture was her fault.

The line between love and hate was so, so fine.

As the End approached, Rage became desperate. Her host's days were numbered - how could she let him know how she felt, how she'd never meant this to happen?

Rage didn't have many options.

But she did have one.

"Passion," she begged the night before the Day, the day it would all begin. "Please. You must make Raven feel something for him."

The purple-cloaked emotion - usually silent, as her host lacked Passion for most things - folded her arms and glared.

"Why, Rage?" she snapped, pale face biting. "Why do you care? He hurt us. He hurt Raven."

"I know," Rage replied, pretending like she cared about their insipid host. "I know, I know, and I'm sorry. But I love him. And Raven's accepted her fate. We're going to die."

"And who's always wanted that?"

For the first time in a while, Rage was voluntarily silent. The Nevermore seemed emptier than usual.

Passion glared balefully at her sister. But slowly, her expression softened.

"Raven is not in love with Slade."

"...I know." Who knew better, really, than she?

"However...I can give you a moment."

Rage ogled at her sister, dumbstruck. Passion rolled her eyes.

"You think you're the only one who can take control of Raven's body? Please. You need to be provoked to come out, to use your power. I'm unexpected. I'm fleeting. I come and go whenever I please."

Biting her lip, Rage nodded. It was the best she had. "Thank you, sister."

And although all the emotions blamed Rage for her part in the End, Passion offered the smallest of smiles.

"I'll make sure the time is right."

.

And oh, how long that time took to come.

Trigon continuously harassed Raven in the protective chamber, beckoning Rage to the surface of her skin with his mere presence. At one point and time, Rage may have been thrilled to see him, to see her master and creator.

Ironic, how Rage wished things were different. How she wished she was different.

What cosmic force has doomed her to this existence? This useless, hateful shell that did nothing more than cause misery to a greater being? What sick joke was this?

When she saw him, smoking and tall and determined to get his way, Rage's heart lit up.

As a result, Raven's resentment only deepened.

They were walking, now, in the Library of Scath, down the winding steps to Raven's fate. Their fate.

Rage's fate.

"The chamber has been prepared for you," he said cooly, not looking at Raven, not looking at Rage. "Everything is ready for Trigon's ascent."

Rage felt a swell of emotion for this man, the man who would never know she existed. Oh, how she longed to speak to him, to touch him!

"You're a fool," Raven snipped coldly, unaware that her spike in irritation had come from a place of adoration. "Whatever he promised, he won't deliver."

"Dear child, you don't know what you're talking about."

So close. God, he was so close.

Raven narrowed her eyes, perhaps sensing the odd behavior within her. "You think I don't know my own father?"

"You are merely the portal," he retorted smoothly. "An insignificant pawn in Trigon's game."

Insignificant. If Rage had a heart, it wilted, ever so slightly.

"Well, I guess we have that in common. And once he gets what he wants, you'll be insignificant too."

Suddenly, he turned, flames in his hands.

"Shut your mouth!" he hissed. There it was - this was why she loved him. That dark, deep fury; Rage thought it beautiful. She desperately wished he would attack Raven, strike her, do something to let Rage overtake her so she could see him, touch his face -

But it was not to be. Tentacles of fire wrap around his neck and torso, yanking Slade to the ground.

"Get off me!" he yelled angrily. "Do as I command!"

Raven approached him, warily. The demons force his head up, and Slade looked at Raven, looked at Rage, dead in the eye.

"Your turn," whispered Passion, allowing Rage to seize control. Quickly, Rage fills Raven's veins, fuels her hate, opens her four, blood red, demon eyes.

There he is, chained by fire, the utmost loathing in his good eye.

If she could've, Rage would have told him how she felt, what he meant to her. I liked you since the very beginning. I fell in love with you on Raven's birthday. And I'll love you, forever.

But Rage could not make Raven feel love.

She could only make her feel one thing, and one thing alone.

"Come to think of it," Raven sneered. "You're already insignificant. Even your own army won't listen to you."

He hates her, then. Rage can see it, as he struggled to be free of his burning prison. He despises Raven.

Rage has done her job.

"Leave him!" Raven spits, already turned away. Rage can no longer see him, and she feels her purpose shift. It is time for the End, now. She cannot afford to be distracted.

I love you, she thought hopelessly. I always will.

And because she is a selfish creature, Rage knew her love would truly make Raven hate him, always.