#and a tree is technically a big stick?

[leclerc-hs]

a lifetime of summers - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which every summer, at the villa your families rent together every year, gives you a version of charles OR you and charles are childhood best friends with a complicated history. warnings: angst, language, childhood friends with complicated history, smut, angst, yearning, etc... idk what I'm missing, NOT PROOFREAD (prob typos or things that might not make sense), lots of back and forth, messy messy messy, also cute, jealousy jealousy, seriously lots of YEARNING, them being stupid also word count: ~8k author's note: this idea came to me a few days ago and i've spent as much time as possible working on it since (in between carlos version). y'know when the creativity just hits right and the words pour out of you?? that was me with this. i hope you guys like it!!!! xoxo ◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Age 7.

“I’m gonna marry you one day.”

The villa smells of sun lotion and salty air.

Your dad’s playing music through some tiny old speaker he brought. And the adults are laughing too loud over their drinks.

The sun is beginning to sink, but it’s still hot. 

You’re sticky with juice, hair tangled, and bathing suit clinging awkwardly.

Charles is chasing you. A water balloon in his hands.

You shriek, running against the hot stones. Smiling so hard that it hurts.

“Y’already got me twice!” You shout in between giggles. “S’not fair!”

Charles appears closer. Face sunburnt. A smile tugged on his lips. “You cheated at Candy Land!”

“You cheated first!” 

“Because you always win!”

And he raises the balloon over his head.

“If you throw that, I’m telling maman you said a bad word the other day.”

His smile drops. “I did not!”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Uh huh…you said ‘shit’ when you hit your funny bone.”

“It hurt!” He argues.

You stick your tongue out. 

And then he hesitates. Looking at the balloon. Then at you.

Throws the balloon anyway.

It explodes against your stomach. Cold water soaking you.

And you gasp. 

Then lunge for him. Chase him all the way into the back yard, shrieking. Laughing so hard that you both struggle to breathe properly. 

And eventually you both collapse into the grass. Side by side. Near the lemon tree. 

There’s a few moments of silence. Both of you panting from trying to catch your breath. 

“I’m gonna marry you one day.”

You blink. “Why?”

“Because you’re funny. And you like ice pops. And you beat me at Mario Kart once.”

You look at him. And he’s staring at the leaves above your heads. Arms touching.

“I don’t think that’s how marriage works,” your voice soft.

“Don’t care.” He shrugs. 

You roll your eyes. “Okay. But I don’t want to wear a dress.”

“Fine. But you have to split the cake with me.”

“Only if it’s chocolate.”

“Well duh.”

And you both fall asleep like that. In the grass. Smelling like chlorine. Sticky with sugar.

-

Age 12

“Why are you being weird?”

The summer heat is burning.

Heat clings to you like a second skin. And you’re still dripping from the pool. The stone tiles are too hot to stand on for too long, so everyone moves around them quickly. Your hair is wet. Trying to read a book, but can’t focus.

Because Charles won’t stop staring at you.

Well, he’s technically not staring. But he’s in the pool in your direct eyesight. Hands behind his head as he sits on a float. Sunglasses almost too big for his face. Smirking.

And every so often, he splashes water your way.

“Would you stop?” You snap. Wiping the water off your ankles.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says. Blinking. Innocent.

You groan, falling back on the lounger. Trying to ignore him.

He floats closer. “You haven’t turned the page in almost twenty minutes.”

“That’s because you’re distracting me.”

And he grins. A full sheepish grin. “You think I’m cute.”

You don’t answer. Keep your eyes on your book.

“Y’gonna tell your friends I have a six pack now?” He calls out.

You raise your eyebrows, “Six pack of what?”

“Muscles.” He says. Dead serious.

And your mouth twitches. “Your voice still cracks.”

Charles slips off the floatie. Swims to the edge and rests his arms on the ledge. Chin on his forearm as he looks at you.

“Yeah? And what does it do to you when I say your name?”

Your breath hitches.

“You’re blushing.”

“It’s the sun.”

He laughs. And you throw your book at him. 

He ducks under the water. And when he resurfaces, grinning…you’re trying so hard to not smile. And he knows it.

“Why are you being so weird?” you ask.

He shrugs. 

“You’re just starting to notice me now.”

And you don’t answer.

And later that night, when you’re brushing your teeth. Still burnt from the sun. You wonder what he meant.

You don’t ask.

But you do start to.

-

Age 15

“That didn’t count.”

“So kiss me again.”

The villa is quiet. 

Your parents and his mom stay up talking. Your siblings long asleep. Arthur passed out on the couch. 

A few candles flicker near the steps, but most of the light is coming from the moonlight.

You’re barefoot. The grass cool and soft beneath your toes as you walk to the lemon tree. The one where you and Charles always meet when its too late and you’re supposed to be asleep.

He’s already there. Leaning against it. 

He looks different this year. Taller. A little bit sharper. More grown into his body.

He glances at you. “Took you long enough.”

“Had to sneak past my sister.”

He grins, holding up a bag of chips. 

And you sit beside him. Your shoulder brushing his. 

Talking about nothing for a while. Catching up on the weeks you aren’t together. How he kissed a girl in Monaco and it was fine but also kind of awkward. And you pretend you don’t hate hearing it.

You tell him about the boy from school who tried to hold your hand during a movie when you went with your group of friends.

Charles almost immediately demands his full name. And address.

And you laugh.

He tosses a lemon up and catches it. Again and again.

“I heard you tell Joris that I was in love with you.” You say.

And he glances at you. “I did not.”

You narrow your eyes. A smile on your lips.

And he shrugs. “I said you were obsessed with me. S’not the same.”

And you laugh. Then scoff. “You wish.”

You shove his arm. And he grabs your wrist before you can pull it back. Fingers wrapping around you. Warm. Familiar. But somehow different.

Neither of you speak for a few moments. Just take in the sound of the cicadas, the faint chatter of the adults on the terrace.

“Y’ever kissed anyone?”

And your stomach twists. Look away. “No.”

He nods. “Me either…at least, not really.”

Silence.

And then he says, “Wanna try?”

You look at him. But he’s already looking at you. And he looks nervous. Hopeful. Like he’s been thinking about this for a long time. Nothing like the boy who used to throw water balloons and stick paint in your hair.

You nod.

And it’s awkward. Your noses bump. One of you breathes too loudly. His hands tremble at your cheek. 

But it’s sweet. Slow.

And his lips are soft.

And when you pull apart, you both stare at each other. Lips a little rosier than before.

“That didn’t count.” You whisper.

And he blinks. “Why not?”

“There was no tongue.”

And he grins. Slowly.

And then pulls you back into him.

And this time….it’s real.

-

Age 17

“This doesn’t have to mean anything.”

The villa’s light glow behind you. Laughter echoing from the kitchen where your parents and his maman are finishing a bottle of wine.

You and Charles are on the terrace. Barefoot. A shared bottle of win between you. Practically empty. And his leg brushes against yours every time he fidgets.

It’s the first summer where you’ve both been allowed to really drink. Not just a stolen sip of a half-empty bottle found on the kitchen counter. Or a watered down spritz. Real drinks. Poured and given to you like adults.

And you’re a little tipsy. Cheeks warm and rosy. Limbs loose. 

“You’re quiet tonight,” you glance at him.

He nods. “Jus’ thinking.”

“You do that?”

And he laughs. “Shut up.”

You smile. Taking a small sip straight from the bottle before placing it back down. “What are you thinking about?”

He hesitates for a little. “Uh…that night last year.”

You don’t have to ask which night. You already know.

The night behind the lemon tree. His mouth on yours. And you think about it often.

“Me too,” You admit. Soft.

And he looks at you. Watch as his gaze dips to your mouth.

And then he’s leaning in.

The kiss is soft. Deeper. Not rushed. And his lips are warm. Tastes of wine and something sweet. Like the fruit you guys were picking at earlier.

When he pulls back, his voice cracks a little bit. “I want you.”

You don’t answer. Just smile soft. Pulling his hand into yours as you drag him into the villa. Into the bedroom. 

Your clothes peel off slowly. Clumsy. And he’s careful. Like he’s afraid if he moves too fast, it’ll ruin the moment. 

“Y’sure about this?” He whispers.

You nod. “Yeah…want it to be you.”

And he closes his eyes for a second. Like his heart is in his throat.

And then it happens.

It’s slow. Messy. You both laugh when your arms bump. And he curses softly when he cant get the condom wrapper open. But then he’s inside you, and your laughter becomes hushed gasps. Fingers digging into each other.

“Y’okay?” He mutters. His forehead pressed to yours.

And your nails dig into his back. “Yeah.”

And then he kisses you again. Harder. Holds you closer.

Later, when you’re both lying tangled in the dark…you feel his fingers tracing your skin. Both of you enjoying the silence.

Then a good few moments later.

“This doesn’t have to mean anything.”

You swallow hard.

“Yeah.”

-

Age 19

“Y’gonna dance with him again?”

“He asked.”

“You let him kiss your cheek.”

“You fingered me in the kitchen pantry last night.”

“That’s different.”

You’re barefoot in the sand. Music loud. And Luca…or maybe it was Leo? You weren’t sure. Had his hands lightly on your hips. Flirty.

You’re laughing at something dumb he said into your ear. And then you feel it.

The heat. The stare.

Glance over your shoulder and…

Charles. Leaning against the beach bar. Beer in hand.

Eyes on you with a glint in his eye like you’ve offended him.

You try not to react. But the next time Luca spins you, you pull away with a smile and a I’ll be right back.

You only make it a few steps before Charles intercepts your path.

“Having fun?” He says. Trying to be casual. But his voice is too tight. Too bitter.

“Yes.” You brush past him. And he falls right into step with you.

“You’ve got weird taste in music.”

“That’s not my music taste. It’s called dancing.”

And he scoffs.

You walk to the side of the bar. To a more private area. Grabbing his shoulder to face you.

“Are you okay?” Voice sweet. Gentle. Caring.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re glaring too much.”

And looks at you. “I just think it’s funny.”

“Oh, here we go.”

“I mean, you don’t even like that song.”

You cross your arms against your chest. And he steps closer.

“You let him put his hands on you.”

You raise a brow. “So?”

“So…you let him touch you. Kiss your cheek”

And you laugh. Soft. “You fingered me in the kitchen pantry last night, Charles.”

His jaw clenches. Hands twitch. “That’s different.”

“Is it?”

You take a step closer. Testing him, And he doesn’t budge.

“It’s not the same.”

You stare at him. His cheeks are sunburned. And his eyes are so green it makes your heart rate spike. So handsome.

“So I’m not allowed to dance with a guy I’ll never see again?”

He runs a hand over his face. Grazing the slight stubble on his jaw. “You’re not just dancing.”

“No,” You admit. “But you’re not just fucking me either.”

His eyes widen. Slightly stunned.

And you don’t back down. Step even closer until your chests are touching.. “You don’t wanna talk about what this is? That’s fine. But you don’t get to act jealous then.”

“I’m not jealous.”

And you grin. Snort. Just a tiny bit.

“Okay,” he says. Throwing his hands up. “Maybe I am.”

Your stomach twists.

“I just…I don’t like seeing you with other guys.” His voice is low. 

“Well…it’s not like you don’t talk to other girls, Charles.”

And then you leave him standing there. Alone.

-

“Wanna go out for a bit?” He asks. “Just us?”

And you say yes without even thinking.

You’re on a light blue towel, sunglasses over your face, pretending to read a book. Charles is stretched out next to you. An arm tucked under his head. Throwing grapes in the air and trying to catch them in his mouth.

You glance over just as a grape hits his forehead and falls into the sand.

“Impressive.”

He laughs. “The wind interfered!”

He tosses another grape. Misses again. 

And you burst into laughter.

“I’m warming up.”

He laughs with you. Giving up and rolling onto his side to face you.

He squints his eyes at you. “Do you have sunscreen on?”

“Yes.”

“Are you positive?”

Your brows furrow. “Why?”

“I think that….” His hand reaches for the bottle of sun lotion, flicking it open. “That you missed a spot.”

He squirts some into his hand, a smirk on his lips.

“Back off.”

And he reaches for you, smearing it all over your chest. You shriek, tossing your book into the sand beside you.

And somewhere between this sun lotion assault, you’re both breathless and laughing so hard.

He pins you down, dropping heaps of sun lotion onto your skin.

“Truce,” You laugh. Stomach burning from laughter. 

He nods. Smiling. Rubbing the sunscreen into your skin.

“Don’t want you to burn.”

You throw a pile of sand at him. And he doesn’t even flinch.

-

His cock is already buried inside you. Deep. Thick. Fucking aching.

“God, you’re fuckin soaked.” He groans into your neck. Hand pressed into your stomach. 

You claw at his back. Back arched. Legs spread. Shaking every time he hits that spot in your tummy just right.

He looks down at you like he’s overwhelmed. Like he doesn’t understand how you can feel this fucking good.

“Swear to God,” He grunts. Pulling back slow, then snapping his hips forward. “S’like your pussy jus gets tighter every time.”

Your mouth falls open. Gasping.

His hands slip under your thigh, pushing your knee into your chest. Fucking you deeper.

And then he moans.

“Jesus….fuck.” He chokes out. “Y’feel that?”

You sob out. 

“I’ve been inside you like a hundred times this summer and it still feels like fuckin heaven.”

His forehead drops and presses into yours. Voice rough. 

“M’not gonna last.” He huffs. “You’re too wet. Too fuckin tight.”

You grip his shoulders, nails digging into the skin. “Don’t stop…”

“You’re fuckin milking me.” He cuts you off. “Y’gonna come? Please come on me. C’mon baby…please, yeah? Please let me have it.”

And you fall apart. Gasping. Shaking. Coming so hard around his cock it makes his head fall back.

And he swears. Filthily. French tumbling out go his mouth.

And then he’s spilling inside of you. Chest pressed to yours. Hips jerking.

He buries his face in your beck. Collapsing on you. 

And neither of you speak for a bit.

Just catch your breath. Comfortable silence. Holding each other.

Eventually, he reaches up. Tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

Then whispers into the dark.

“I like it here.”

And he doesn’t elaborate.

You don’t ask him to.

-

Age 21

“He seems tense.”

“He’s fine.”

“He didn’t even blink when I mentioned that guy from Madrid.”

“I told you not to bring it up.”

Your best friend’s been here for five days and already the villa feels different.

She means well. But she talks fast, drinks fast, and has no filter. 

She also loves to talk about your love life.

The one that you’re apparently “thriving in”.

“So wait,” she says over breakfast, digging her fork into her food. “You never texted that guy from Madrid back? Y’know the one with the sexy voice?”

Across the table, Charles is picking at his plate. Fork pausing. Just for a little bit. Enough for you to notice.

You look at her, “No.”

“Why not? He was so hot.”

“Didn’t feel like it.”

“But he was so into you…” She takes a sip of her drink. “What about the Italian one? The one you really liked.”

Charles cuts into his eggs. A little bit harder. Knife scraping the plate.

“He ghosted.”

“Ugh, yeah total loser.” She laughs. “Oh my god, remember…what was his name? From the bar crawl.”

“Liam.” You choke out.

“Yes! Liam!” She snaps her fingers. “Didn’t he pick you up at the bar? Like just threw you over his shoulder?”

You laugh, slightly embarrassed. Nodding.

Charles sets his mug down a little too hard.

And then he stands. Takes his plate to the sink. 

And walks out.

“Was it something I said?” Your best friend asks.

-

You find him in the kitchen later. Your best friend is lounging out by the pool and you slipped inside to grab a water.

He’s rinsing the plates. Back to you. But his jaw is clenched tight.

You lean against the counter by him. “Hey.”

He doesn’t look at you. Just keeps scrubbing the dishes. A little harder than before.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” He says. “Just didn’t realize breakfast started with a running list of every guy you’ve fucked.”

You wince.

And he breathes deeply. Dropping the dish in the sink. “Sorry…that was, uh harsh.”

You give a tiny nod.

“I just…” He turns off the water. Looks at you. “Didn’t know it was like that?”

“Like what?”

He shrugs. 

“Is it a problem?”

He stares at you. Sucks his bottom lip in for a moment. Like he’s deep in thought. Before finally saying…

“No. It’s not my place.”

And there it is. 

You step back. “Right.”

And then you’re turning around, reaching in the cabinet for a glass. “Still going to the bonfire later?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, if you still want to.”

“Cool,” Your voice is light. 

-

Age 22

“You’ve been quiet lately.”

“I’m just tired.”

The long table on the terrace is full.

Extra chairs from inside scattered around it, one of your younger cousins crawling underneath it.

Your dad is asking your mom if there’s more grilled vegetables. Meanwhile your sister insists on telling the story about the jellyfish sting again.

“And she was crying so hard, she had actual snot bubbles on her face,” She says. Laughing.

You lift your hand, “I was six!”

Charles laughs. “You thought you were dying.”

“I thought it was venom!” You laugh. “And no one even helped me.”

“We were too busy laughing at the snot,” He says. Looking at you. That familiar grin pulled on his face, eyes crinkled. Like it was just you two.

And then Alex leans into him. Whispers into his ear. And whatever she says makes him smile wider. Makes him shift toward her without even thinking.

You chug your wine.

“I love that photo,” Alex says softly. And you glance at her to find her already looking at you. “The one of you and everyone in the inflatable pool. You’re the only one not smiling.”

You curl your lips. “We were sinking.”

“It’s so funny though,” She says. “You look so unimpressed by them.”

“She always looks like that,” Charles chimes in. “Probably came out of the womb judging people.”

You narrow your eyes, but the smile pulling on your lips gives you away.

Alex laughs. And your mom’s already popping open the next bottle of wine. 

And it would be perfect.

If it weren’t for Charles sitting across from you, arms wrapped around another person. Like he’s not yours anymore. 

You ask Alex about her job, and you mean it. She answers so soft and kind that it almost makes you hate her. Almost.

But you can’t. Because she’s nice.

“She’s good for him,” Your sister whispers under her breath, leaning toward you. “You’ve been quiet lately.”

You nod. “I’m just tired.”

Eventually, dinner ends. Alex excuses herself to help your mom bring out dessert. And Charles follows.

And when they come back, head thrown back laughing. 

He sets a slice of cake in front of you without a word.

And you thank him like its normal.

-

Someone suggest drinks at the beach bar. Something to do. The one with the bulbs on string down the street. 

You come barefoot, some sweet drink already in hand. Alex walks beside you, her wedges hooked in her fingers, hem of her dress brushing her knees.

She’s pretty in a way that doesn’t feel threatening. Not showy. Just perfect.

Inside the bar, you spot Charles leaned against the bar with a beer, grinning at something Arthur’s saying. And he’s wearing that linen button up that you used to tell him he looks like a recently divorced rich guy in. 

You find yourself smiling.

Alex touches your arm. “Hey…you want a new drink?”

You shake your head. “I’m good for now.”

She nods. A small smile on her lips.

“I was really nervous to meet you.”

You blink. Eyes slightly wider. “Me?”

She nods. “Charles talks about you all the time.”

You freeze for a moment.

“Yeah,” she smiles. “Not like in a weird way. Just like you’re part of the picture. In his life. Almost every story he tells involves you.”

You don’t know how to respond.

“I’m just glad you’re not..uh, like intimidating.” She laughs.

And you laugh back. “I save the intimidation after a few weeks.”

She smiles. “So I’ve still got time?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

And for this moment, you like her. Even if it hurts.

Because she’s kind.

Because she doesn’t know that you and Charles shared a bed when thunderstorms were scary.

Because she wasn’t there the summer he kissed you against the sand and told you he’d never want anyone else.

You chug your drink.

Later, you’re all gathered near the back of the deck, huddled around a wooden table and wobbly stools. Someone ordered a side of fries. Someone else ordered a round of shots no one really wanted but drank anyways.

You’re pressed between Charles and your sister. You’re laughing. Tipsy. Warm.

Charles is teasing your sister about something but you’re not really listening. 

And that’s when another guy slides in.

Not dramatically. Just casual. Confident.

He’s tall. Tanned. Cute. 

He talks to the guy beside him, someone you’ve definitely seen before, and then turns to you. 

“Did I hear something about you getting stung by a jellyfish?”

You smile. “Unfortunately.”

He nods. A grin. “Survival stories always get me.”

“Tragic,” you say.

He laughs. “I’m Nick.”

You take a sip of your drink, tilting your head. “Do you open with tragedy stories for flirting a lot? Or is it just me?”

“Only for girls who look like they bite back.”

You grin. Slow. “You say that like its a challenge.”

“Depends,” He shrugs, gaze dropping to your bare legs, then back to your face.

“On?”

“Depends how hard you bite.”

And you laugh. Like really laugh. Hard. Head falling back. And then you feel it. The way Charles stills beside you. The way his fingers grip his cup just a little bit tighter.

And Nick leans in closer. More private. “So…what other tragedies should I know about you?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“If you want facts or warnings.”

He raises a brow. “Any preference?”

You place your cup down on the table. “I like a little risk.”

And Charles says something to your sister now. A little louder. Like he’s trying to distract you.

You don’t bother to look at him.

Nick grins. “And just how dangerous are you exactly?”

You grin back. “Pretty dangerous.”

He laughs. “Good.”

You both just stare at each other for a little. Grinning.

“You dancing?” He asks, nodding his head in direction of the dance floor.

“Are you asking or telling?”

“I’m hoping.”

You slide off the stool.

“Let’s go tragedy boy.”

And as he takes your hand. Leads you into the crowd. You catch Charles’s eyes.

Watching.

Burning.

-

The music’s slowed a little. Just swaying to the music, instead of the rapid jumping you were doing earlier. 

Nick’s hand rests at your hip. His other is holding your drink while you talk with your hands.

“You can’t seriously think pineapple belongs on pizza,” You yell over the music.

Nick grins. “It’s good.”

“You’re weird.”

“I’ve been told that before.”

And you laugh, bumping your shoulder into his. He leans in, speaking into your ear.

“You know your friend’s been staring at us for like ten minutes, right?”

You blink. “Huh?”

He tips his head. Over your shoulder. And you turn just a little bit. Just enough to see Charles still sitting at the table.

Drink in hand. Not talking. Not even blinking. Just looking.

You breathe out, turning back. “That Charles.”

Nick raises a brow, nodding. “Ahh.”

“Don’t read into it.”

He watches you.

“He has a girlfriend.”

Nick hums, a teasing grin. “He doesn’t look like he remembers that right now.”

“We’re just friends.”

“Cool.”

You shrug. “You don’t believe me?”

He smiles. “Doesn’t matter what I believe. Just means if I kiss you, he might kill me.”

You laugh. “You’re awful.”

“You’re still here.”

And you look at each other. Smiling.

You kiss him. Not because you’re falling for him. But because you’re single. Because Charles brought someone else. Because he gets to have her. Because you’re tired of thinking about him.

So you kiss him to feel good. To forget. To remind yourself that you’re free.

Hands in his shirt. Hands on your waist.

And you let yourself lean into it.

Enjoy the uncomplicated.

And for a few moments…it almost works.

-

Age 23

“You brought him here.”

“Yeah. Remember you said he wouldn’t last.”

You’re late this year.

Flight was delayed. Rental car place was too busy. And by the time your feet hit the familiar stone of the villa’s terrace, the sun is already low in the sky.

Theo’s beside you. Rolling your suitcase like a pure gentleman. He’s good. Kind. Gets along with your parents. Laughs at your sister’s jokes. 

And still, your heart flutters when you hear his voice.

Charles.

Laughing louder than necessary. As if he wants you to hear it.

You follow the sound. Trying not to think about the last time you saw him. A few months ago in Monaco. A hotel room you both swore you wouldn’t end up in. Both seeing other people. Both pretending it didn’t count.

And it wasn’t even the first time.

Since last summer, it’s happened a few times too many. Whenever him and Alex called it off. On and off. On and off. You slipped between the cracks. A quiet fuck in your apartment. A drunken make out at a birthday party. You pressed against the shower tiles. Bent over his kitchen counter.

Always followed by soft smiles and easy goodbyes. A promise to act normal. 

Best friends first.

And the moment you step further into the terrace, you see him.

Charles standing against the bar, shirt unbuttoned. Tanned. Holding a drink with the confidence of someone who knows exactly how hot he looks.

And worse…Alex is next to him.

Beautiful of course. Sundress swaying. Hand on his chest like it belongs there.

He notices you before you can even speak. Smile faltering for a fraction of a second. Just enough for you to really feel it. And then it’s back.

And he lifts his glass in a salute. “You’re late.”

Alex smiles. “We thought you weren’t coming til’ tomorrow!”

You smile back. She was always so nice. “Surprise!”

Theo steps forward. Hand extended with that charm that always made it hard to hate him. “Hey…Charles, right?”

And Charles doesn’t hesitate. Shakes his hand. But its the same one he uses with driver’s he never liked. “Yeah. We’ve met.”

And it hits you like a knife to the ribs.

You remember that night clear as day. Theo was still new. Only a few dates in. And you invited him to a party. 

Charles showed up late. And barely looked at Theo. Offered him a lazy smile before finding you later into the night. Pulling you into his car thirty minutes later and fucking you in the back seat.

And Theo’s smiling. “Nice to see you again.”

Charles smiles. But his eyes stay on you. Never leave your face.

Alex swings her arm into his. “So glad you made it. Saved you the good room too.”

You smile at her. “That’s sweet of you.”

Charles lifts a brow. “Didn’t know you needed a good room to enjoy yourself here.”

And you hum. “Guess I’ve gotten a little pickier.”

He takes a sip of his drink. “Since when?”

And you shrug your shoulders. “Since I started dating someone who doesn’t forget my birthday.”

And it hits him like a bullet. You see the way his jaw shifts. Swallow.

Theo’s hand slips onto your lower back. Whispering softly into your ear. Nothing specific. Just something that makes you smile.

And Charles swear’s he might just vomit.

-

The ocean is calm. Waves hitting the rocks. A few birds chirping. Air cool before the sun is fully up.

You slip out of bed, letting Theo sleep. Making your way down the stony path that you walked hundreds of times. Towel slung over your shoulder. Hair twisted up in a clip.

And you’re halfway across the sand when you see him.

Already waist deep in the water. Back facing you. 

You freeze. Debating if you should turn around. 

But it’s too late. He see’s you. And his face shifts into something. Longing? Guilt? You’re not sure.

“You’re always here early,” He calls out.

You drop your towel, walking into the water without glancing at him.  “Not always.”

He watches you. You can feel the burn of his eyes on your skin. “You do when you’re avoiding me.”

You glance up. The water cool against your skin. “Who said I’m avoiding you?”

He shrugs. “History.”

You reach him in the water. You both stand there, not touching. Not moving.

Eventually…he speaks.

“He’s staying the entire time?”

You raise a brow. “Are you asking as my best friend or something else?”

He doesn’t answer. 

You move a little closer. “You said he wouldn’t last.”

“I was wrong.” His voice is low. “Clearly.”

He swallows. Looks away from you. “Does he know?”

And your stomach twists. “Know what?”

He doesn’t say anything. Lets the silence tell you.

You feel your throat tightening. “He know’s we’re close.”

“Close.” He repeats. Half snort, half laugh.

“Best friends.”

He turns to fully face you now. Jaw clenched. 

“Right. Just best friends.”

You don’t respond. Because what else are you supposed to say? That you still feel his fingers dig into your skin. That no matter how many nights pass, you still wonder what this could’ve been if you both spoke up all those years ago.

He steps closer. Too close now.

“Y’still taste like that shitty rosé we used to drink.”

And you blink. Trying not to smile. “You’re not funny.”

“Not trying to be.”

His fingers brush against your shoulder. 

“You have a girlfriend.”

And his eyes look sad. He breathes loudly. “And you have him.”

-

The villa is loud tonight. Music is blasting. Too many drinks are being poured. Bowls of snacks turning stale.

All of you are packed into the living room. Sunburn. Sprawled into chairs or the floor. Hoodies thrown on. 

Your families are here. Everyone laughing and shouting. Bickering. Like its still 15 years ago.

Theo sits behind you on the rug, legs wrapped around you. Hand resting on your hip. And he’s been sweet all evening. He fits.

Yet every time you crack a joke. Or win a game. It’s Charles who looks at you first. Like he’s your person.

His leg bounces restlessly. 

“Alright,” Arthur announces. “We’re playing that game again. The one with the acting.” He holds up a deck of cards.

“Y’mean charades?” Alex asks. Soft.

“No.” Charles says. “The one I always win.”

And it’s you rolling your eyes now. “Y’mean the one you always cheat during?”

He leans forward. “I win.”

Theo laughs behind you.

Your sister tries to act out like Snow White. Falling over and laughing when Arthur misreads a motion. Theo keeps guessing too many times. And Alex’s impressions are almost too good.

And later…when the game’s over. You find yourself in the kitchen, stacking freshly cleaned glass and bowls onto the drying towel.

Humming to yourself.

And Charles leans against the doorway, arms crossed. Watching you with a lazy grin. 

“You two are cute,” He says.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t be weird.”

“M’not.” He shrugs. Pushing off the archway and stepping closer. “It’s just…uh.” He scratches the back of his neck. “You let him touch you a lot.”

You pause with a glass in your hand. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

And he smiles. Tight. Not genuine. “Nothing.”

“You’re being weird.”

He raises his hands. Says something mocking of Theo.

And it has you gasp lightly. “You’re such an asshole.” You try not to smile.

He steps even closer.

“Yeah.” He whispers. “But I’m still your favorite.”

And then he’s stepping beside you, taking the glass from your hand and dries it.

Finishes washing the dishes with you in silence.

-

“You’re staring again.”

“Yeah. Looks like you’re having fun.”

“Jealous?”

“Of him? Never.”

Silence.

“But of you? Maybe.”

The bar is tucked into the cliffs. A grand view of the sea. Well lit by bulbs on strings.

Everyone’s dressed for the night. Sun-kissed. Hair soft and flows. Laughter echoing. 

You’re on your second drink. Lightly buzzed. Your dress clinging to you just right. And you feel good. Happy.

Theo’s spinning you around. His hands warm on your waist as you move slowly in the corner of the makeshift dance floor. He’s not much of a dancer. But he’s trying. And in the end…that’s all that really matters.

He leans in close. “Y’look so beautiful.”

You smile. “Yeah?”

“I mean…y’always do.” He grins. “But-“

You don’t let him finish. Kiss him. Easy. Soft.

And when you pull back, you catch him in the corner of your eye.

Charles. At the bar.

Sitting with Arthur and Alex. Drink in front of him. Head tilted.

And he’s watching you. Not listening to either of them.

And when you’re eyes meet, he lifts his drink.

A challenge.

And later when you slip away from the loud music. He’s there. Leaning casually against the table. Shirt undone just enough to make your throat dry. 

“You’re having fun.” He says. A statement. Not a question.

“Isn’t that the point?”

He nods. “Theo’s a big fan of spinning you around like you’re some prize.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s called dancing.”

“More like claiming.” He huffs under his breath.

And you look at him.

Hard. 

Trying to read him. 

“What’s your problem?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Eyes dropping to the floor. Then to his half empty drink. 

“You kissed him.” He still isn’t looking at you.

You squint your eyes a little. “Yeah. I did.”

He swallows. Harsh. “Cool.”

You laugh. Dry. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m the ridiculous one?” He finally looks at you. “You’re out here making heart eyes at a guy you know won’t last more than another year.”

Your mouth falls open. “You don’t even know him.”

“I don’t need to know him. I know you.”

And he steps forward. Voice dropping.

“And I know that’s the same dress you wore the night I…”

“Charles.”

You both go quiet. 

Alex’s frame flickers by. Laughter erupts. People keep dancing.

“Whatever. You’re right. Have fun with your fling.”

You narrow your eyes. “Jealous?”

He smiles. Sad. “Of him? Never.”

A moment of silence. And his gaze drops to your mouth. Stays there.

“But you? Maybe.”

-

The trip is winding down. Bags are beginning to be packed. Towels still damp. Nights slower. Everyone pretending that they’re not ready to be home.

The sky’s dark. Everyone’s inside finishing up packing. Winding down.

You slipped out.

Without thinking, ended up here. The lemon tree.

The same as always. 

You hear footsteps. Uneven. Dragging.

And you turn. Charles.

He’s drunk. Swearing under his breath as he loses his footing. A bottle dangling from his hand. Shirtless. Barefoot.

His eyes meet yours and there’s something bitter in them. “Of course you’re here.”

You breathe. “You’re drunk.”

“A lil’ bit,” His words slur. “Celebrating your last night as someone else’s girl.”

You cross your arms. “We’re not doing this.”

But he’s already walking closer. 

“Y’know….s’kinda funny.”

You don’t speak.

“How he holds your hand like its somethin’ delicate. Like you’re some untouchable thing.” He takes another step closer. Voice shaking.

“I’ve had you on your knees on the kitchen floor.” He says, bitter.

Your heart pounds. “Stop.”

“In the pool too,” He slurs. “Begged me to not pull out. Said you wanted to feel it. Feel me.”

He doesn’t even let you speak. Just rambles on. Slurring. Drunk. Angry.

“Had you in every room in that house,” He grunts. “Fingers shoved in you while our parents set the dinner table. Bent you over the bathroom sink. Panties still halfway up your thighs because you were too desperate to wait.”

“Charles…”

“The pantry…remember that one?” His voice drops lower. “You were so wet it dripped onto the floor. Had to stuff my fingers in your mouth so no one would hear you cryin while you came.”

“Don’t do this.”

“I fucking have to.” He snaps. “Because I can’t fucking sleep this entire trip knowing he gets to touch you.”

You swallow. “I’m not some prize.”

“No. You’re worse.” He spits. Stepping close enough that his chest is close enough and you have to crane your neck to look at him. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and you handed it to someone else like I never fucking existed.”

“Stop it.”

“He doesn’t know what its like to hear you lose control. How you cry when you come. Shaking and begging.”

And your breathing hard now.

He leans in. Bending down to be eye to eye.

“He gets to hold you in public.” His eyes are glaring. “And I got your thighs shaking around my face while you said my name like a fuckin’ prayer.”

You don’t speak. Can’t.

Silence for a few moments.

And then…

“Tell me.” He slurs, small grin tugged on the corner of his lips. “Tell me which of us you think about when you touch yourself.”

You slap him.

Hard.

And his face whips to the side. He breathes heavily. Like he’s trying not to cry. Or scream. Or grab your face and kiss you.

He swallows.

“He gets you in the daylight.”

You don’t speak.

“He gets the sunlight.” 

And you whisper back. Soft. Heart breaking. “You only met me in the dark.”

You walk away barefoot. Tears forming in your eyes.

And Charles?

He stays at the lemon tree until sunrise. Alone.

-

You don’t talk for three months.

Which is considered a lifetime for you and Charles.

And then on a random weekday at nearly three in the morning, he sends a photo of the lemon tree in the winter.

No message beneath it.

You don’t answer.

Not for a day. Not even for three.

But then, on a random day the following week, you send a photo back.

A shot of your bedroom wall. A blurry photo of your hand holding a book in the corner.

Can’t sleep.

And the three dots appear before you can overthink it.

Me either.

And that’s how it begins.

You don’t FaceTime each other. At least, not at first. 

You fall back into a rhythm neither of you thought would come back. Almost normal. The funny kind of banter you guys always had.

Charles broke up with Alex. You broke it off with Theo.

Neither of you really said why.

-

Age 25

“Don’t sit in my chair.”

“This isn’t your chair?”

“I licked it.”

“You haven’t changed.”

“You haven’t either.”

The sun is long gone. You’re curled up in one of the cushioned chairs on the front patio. A half finished glass of wine on the stone table beside you.

The front door swings open.

“Don’t sit in my chair”

He doesn’t even hesitate. Charles drops into the cushion next to you. Barefoot. Hoodie swallowing him.

“This isn’t your chair?”

“I licked it.”

He makes a funny face. “You haven’t changed.”

And you smile. “You haven’t either.”

And its easy. The way he stretches out, folding his arms behind his head. Like nothing ever happened. 

You sip your wine.

His knee bumps into yours. Gaze on you.

“Thought it’d feel weird.”

“It did…for like,” You pause. Whisper. “For like a day.”

He holds your gaze. Doesnt look away. Smiles.

You break the tension first. “Maman said you still haven’t unpacked.”

He shrugs. “I’ll get there.”

“It’s been almost a whole week. That’s psychotic.”

“You’re just mad I haven’t asked to borrow your good smelling shampoo yet.”

“You are so not borrowing that.”

“I already did.”

You elbow him in the side. Laughing. Body shaking. He laughs with you. Head falling back.

He clears his throat. “I missed this.”

And you bump your knee back into his. “Rematch tomorrow?”

“Candy Land?”

“Don’t cheat.”

“I didn’t cheat.”

You narrow your eyes, smiling so hard. “You’re the worst.”

-

Monaco, Age 26

Your back hits the wall of his apartment. 

Urgent. Focused. 

Like he’s waited for forever to get you alone again. And doesn’t want to waste a single second of it.

His mouth is hot on yours. Hands at your hips. Your thighs. Slipped under your dress. And you’re clinging onto him like he’s a lifeline.

You can still taste the champagne on his skin. Skin warm from the race. But his mouth is desperate against you. 

He groans against your lips. “Thought about this almost every night.”

You gasp when his fingers curl around your thigh. “Stop thinking.”

And he’s about to take you right there. Dress bunched at your waist. Pants halfway down. But then you press your hand to his chest.

He stills. Panting. Flushed.

“I need to say something first,” You breathe.

He waits. Hands still gripping you.

And you look up at him. The man who just won Monaco. The boy you’ve known who’s been chasing that dream since you can remember. The one you loved. Hated. Missed.

“Your dad would be so proud of you.” You whisper.

And you feel his chest rise. Jaw clench. Fingers curl harder into your skin.

“I’m serious.” Your voice is soft. “Not just because you won. But because of how you’ve carried him with you.”

And his eyes are glassy.

He swallows hard. “I heard him.” His voice soft. “Right after I saw that checkered flag.”

You bring your hand to his check, pressing your palm. And he leans into you.

And then he’s kissing you again. But its different.

Still hungry. But more grateful. More claiming.

He whispers I love you into your mouth. Again and again. 

He whispers it when you tug his shirt over his head. When you lift your hips to pull your panties off.

Whispers it into your skin when he touches your bare skin. Like he’s seeing it all for the first time again.

And when he sinks in, he groans. Leaning over you, gripping you like you might just slip through his fingers.

“Y’feel like fuckin heaven.” He mutters against your lips. “You are heaven.”

And then he starts moving. Not fast.

Slow. Deep.

“Squeezing me like you missed it,” He huffs. “Did you, hm? Did you miss me?”

“Yes…” You pant. “Fuck…yes.”

He kisses your throat. Hot open mouthed kisses at the corner of your jaw. Hips rolling into you. Each thrust making you cry out.

“I love you.” 

He thrusts.

“I love you.”

Another.

“Not just tonight. Not just now. Always.” He cries out.

And you clench around him. Yelling out as your orgasm builds too fast.

“C’mon that’s it..” He breathes. “Come for me. Let me feel it, yeah? Let me have it…please baby.”

“I love you,” You gasp. “I love you…I love you..”

And then you’re coming. Body shaking, mouth falling slack as he fucks you through it.

Following seconds later, spilling into you.

He collapses over you. “Fuck. You’re it for me.”

You hold him close.

-

“You still take it with milk?” He asks, voice soft. 

You nod.

He hands you a mug. His fingers brushing against yours.

You sit on the couch together. Close.

“I keep thinking about the lemon tree,” You say. Cradling the mug in your hands.

He looks at you. “Yeah?”

You nod. “How many summers we sat there pretending everything was normal.”

He huffs a soft laugh. “We were idiots.”

You smile. “Still are.”

“I’ve loved you since we were kids.” He says quietly. “Since you made me sleep outside by the lemon tree because you said it wasn’t fair that only the birds got to live outside.”

You laugh, heart clenching.

“I’ve loved every version of you.” He continues. “The snot version. The barefoot version. The one who laughs too loud after a few drinks. The one who tried to date other people. The one who…the one who kissed other people in front of me because I waited too fucking long.”

You pause. Placing the mug down on the side table.

“I was scared that loving you would ruin everything.”

He pushes you hair behind your ear. 

“I love you too.” You whisper. “You idiot.”

He laughs.

Leans in.

Kisses you.

-

Age 28

“This is where I almost lost you.”

“And now it’s where you’re asking to keep me?”

“No. Not asking.”

“Oh.”

Its late. 

You’ve changed into one of Charles’s old shirts. Barefoot. As usual. 

He finds you standing at the edge of the yard. 

Where the broken stone path curves. Where the grass bends. Where the lemon tree leans.

You hear him before you see him. His footsteps always so loud.

Neither of you speak. He wraps his arms over your shoulders from behind. Your back to his chest as he nudges his head into the space between your shoulder and neck.

You hold his arms. Swaying to the light breeze. Staring at the lemon tree together.

“This is where I almost lost you.” He says.

And you glance at your side to him. 

“And now it’s where you’re gonna ask to keep me?” You say, laughing. Teasing. Soft.

He smiles. Small. Shaky.

“No.” He says. Unwrapping his arms from you. “Not asking.”

And then you’re turning towards him. 

And he drops to one knee.

Just like that.

Just him in the grass. Kneeling by the lemon tree. Choosing it to be the place where he does the most important thing he’ll ever do.

Your breath catches. And his hands tremble as he pulls a ring from his pocket.

“I wanted to do this right.” He says. “I want to choose you the way I should’ve all those years ago. Not just when it’s easy..or when we’re alone. But in front of every version of us we used to be.”

Your throat burns.

“I want every summer.” He whispers. Eyes glued to you. “Every winter. Every fight. Every make up. I want to kiss you goodnight when we’re tired. Want to raise mini versions of us.”

You laugh. You cry. And you’re nodding before he even finishes.

“I want you forever.”

And then finally, “Will you marry me?”

You fall to your knees right there in the grass. In front of the lemon tree. And kiss him hard enough that you both fall into it. Laughing. Like little kids again.

“Yes.” You whisper against his lips. “Always. In every lifetime…yes.”

taglist: @softtdaisy @zicosbitch @esmeextraa @evie-119 @teamnovalak @leclercmylove @skylyn-vais @tabisswag @annaswrites00 @chaconadine @sassy-persona @im-an-overthinker @ptrickbateman @angelique-rose-valentine @agmoon03 @whistlef0rthechoir @bvbyacid-666 @jenxjar @crazynyctophilia @theoriginalsfan124 xoxo love u all :)

[saphiccarma]

Heyyy, I've never requested anything before so hopefully this isnt too much 😭 but could u do agathario x reader, where reader dies maybe from like disease or she somehow gets caught in a scene where agatha is trying to steal a covens power, and like rio doing everything to fight against her duty and having to take one of her lovers, maybe reader doesn't die instantly but she's like dying in agathas arms and is trying to soothe her wives. Idk if that makes sense its ok if you can't 😭 i hope you have a great day💕💕

- It was not your fault, but mine.

Relationships - Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary - Being married to Agatha and Rio was perhaps your favorite thing ever, the best part of your life. You wanted to be with them forever, but that wish is threatened when you touch a mysterious object outside and fall ill.

Warnings: Major character death, angst

A/N: I love this so much and it was fun to write. Thank you for the request!

You had technically got married to Agatha and Rio for about a year now. Since your type of relationship wasn't excepted by the town you lived in, the three of you got quietly married in a little cottage in the middle of the woods. This was where you spent most of your time, sitting in the cottage and reading books, or picking flowers, or testing out new recipes you wanted to try. Agatha and Rio come and go as they please, always too busy to stay in one place, and you were fine with that. They were still good wives.

Absent mindedly you kicked a rock, the little stone flying across the leaf littered ground and crashing into a tree. They had both been gone for weeks and you had heard no sign of them, no magical raven that had a letter attached to its foot, no quick check in, nothing. While you trusted them and their abilities it had begun to worry you. You stumbled a bit, tripping across something that protruded out of the ground. Letting out a quiet curse, you looked back to see what it was.

A glowing rock, a faint pink hue emitting off of it, sat nestled in the red and orange leaves. You crouched down and grabbed a stick next to you, pointing at it. When it did nothing, you reached towards it, and against your better judgement, picked it up. Searing pain shot through you, fiery sparks crackling through you. You gasped, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to drop the rock. It didn't fall from your hand as intended. Panic spread through you rapidly as your heart beat faster and faster. The thing was now a bright pink, sparkling so bright it hurt your eyes, and stuck to your hand.

Pain coursed your body, every inch of you filled with searing pain. In a brief moment of clarity, you grabbed a stick from the ground, and making a big effort, traced a circle in the dirt and drew an X through it. Words were whispered from your mouth slowly as you chanted the spell. The lines in the dirt began to glow a soft green color and it wasn't long before they flashed brightly before disappearing.

"I was in the middle of something darling," Rio began, her tone playful and light. Then she paused, her eyes catching on your hand. "What happened?"

You grunted, "I don't know."

She rolled her eyes at your lack of response, taking a step closer and trying to grab your hand. You yanked it away, afraid she would get hurt as well, and that was the last thing you wanted. Rio rolled her eyes once more, fixing you with a reprimanding look.

"Let me see." Rio took your wrist in her hand, not caring much to be gentle, and turned it over, examining the stone. A curious hum escaped her as she poked at it.

"Well?" you hissed, flinching as her nails dug into your skin. She dug her nails deeper, ignoring your whimper of pain, and drew blood. The red droplets spread down your wrist. "What the hell Rio?" You were not in the mood for her jokes right now.

Your wife smiled at you, her dashing and cheeky smile that you had grown to love. Slowly, eyes meeting yours the entire time, she brought your hand up to her mouth and licked strip across the crescent shaped marks. The second she did so, your hand loosened and the rock dropped from your grip, landing on the floor with a thunk. A sigh of relief escaped you as you fell to the ground, laying on your back with your arms spread out. The searing pain that had coated your body dispersed.

Rio chuckled above you, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "Better?"

You nodded, rubbing your wrist absent mindedly, still feeling her soft lips there.

"You know what would make it even better?" You raised both your brows, "A kiss."

Laughing softly, her eyes rolling once more, Rio crouched down. Her lips met yours in a harsh kiss, she was never gentle.

^___________^

It turns out, the three of you had found, that the rock carried a deadly curse. Agatha had kicked the thing, sending it flying before Rio reluctantly retrieved it. The two had been frantically trying to find a cure, despite their supposed casual appearance, you knew it was stressing them out. While they were plagued with the stress of finding a cure, you were plagued with constant pain.

A sharp pain that shot through you. Some days it was manageable, some days it left you crippled in bed, unable to move and barely able to talk. Those were the days that worried your wives the most. Today, thankfully, was one of the good days. You sat with Agatha on the porch, her arms wrapped around you.

"You know I wanted kids," you said suddenly, your fingers toying with her own as you twisted them together, "Or at least one."

You felt Agatha inhale sharply, "We'll have them," she said fiercely, "We can have kids." The sun was setting slowly in the distance, the sky a perfect hue of pink and red. You always had loved the sunsets, and the sunrises, but there was something special about sunsets.

In the distance you could see Rio, perched by the edge of the woods, green magic swirling around her as she did who knows what. She had asked to be alone during the time being. But still, you couldn't help but watch as her arms moved fluidly to cast the spells, her body moving as if in a dance. A soft smile crossed your face.

"Agatha," you whispered softly, "You know that's not going to happen." Looking up at her, you saw her jaw clenched and a dangerous glimmer in your eyes. You knew, that if you died Agatha would take it the hardest. She would blame Rio and that was the last thing you wanted. You gently tugged her fingers, intertwining yours with hers.

"I'd want a boy I would name him Nicholas, little Nicky for short. Ideally, he would have Rio's eyes and your hair, my face, he would be perfect," you smiled up at her, pleased to see a dreamy look in her eyes. It wasn't often that Agatha indulged in fantasies about the future, but she always tried with you. You could imagine a boy, brown eyes that were darker than the night sky, but could hold so much emotion like his mother. Brown hair that was just a little bit wavey, and you would let it grow out if he wanted it to. And lastly, your smile, your nose, all your facial features. He would be the perfect mix up of the three of you. Something that was created through a force of love, but no outside magic used.

Her features softened even further when you winced, a pain flaring up in your back. You waved away her concern, straightening out.

"Would we make him with a spell?" she asked, her voice lowered to match yours.

You shook your head, "No. We would make him from scratch. No incantaion, no spell, no magic."

A little laugh escaped Agatha. She pressed her lips down onto your head, burrowing herself in your hair.

"Whatever you say my love."

^_____________^

You sat in the fields, twisting flowers in your hands to form a crown. This one was made with dandelions, the stems intertwined as you threaded them through each other. Two other crowns sat next to you, one with azaleas and the other with black roses. You had plucked the thorns off of course, not that Rio would care.

One of the perks of being married to a green witch was that she could produce any flowers you wanted, and she did just that. Rio always grew flowers if you asked them, even if she rolled her eyes and said they were too colorful for her taste, she wanted to make you happy.

Your fingers twitched as pain flared through you, but you worked through the pain. The two had gone out that morning in search of other possible cures, but promised to be back in time to sleep with you. The sun was setting in the distance, the sky a beautiful gradient of orange and yellow.

Crows cawed above you, their black wings flapping as they soared in circles. A little smile flitted across your face. Both of your lovers adored crows, their passion for them always made you happy. Before you had more time to ponder if Rio was up in the crows, there was a hot breath in your ear.

“Boo.”

You jumped away, placing a hand over your heart as you glared at Rio. She was cackling, nearly falling back into Agatha who stood with an amused smile on her face. The purple witch shoved Rio away, moving forward and placing a tender kiss on your lips.

“I made you something,” you scooped up the azalea flower crown and stood, placing it one her head despite her pout, “Can’t you at least pretend to like it?”

Agatha rolled her eyes, “It’s amazing darling, I love it.”

Smiling happily, you rewarded her with a soft kiss before turning to Rio who was watching the scene quietly. You weren’t even sure when she had stopped laughing.

“Ooo,” she cooed, stepping closer, her finger curling as she took hold of her crown, “I love it, my love.”

You blushed at her words. While you loved Agatha’s pet names, Rio’s did something to you. The Green Witch placed it on her head with a broad smile.

“Do you have one?” Rio looked around, her eyes landing on the dandelions in the grass. She reached down, scooping it up before placing it on your head with a proud smile.

Agatha came up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist, “You look beautiful darling.”

A deep blush crossed your face when her breath fanned against your neck. Rio took a step closer, her finger curling under your chin. A sinister smirk crossed her face.

“Good enough to eat.”

^_____________^

You coughed harshly as you curled into a ball, pain flaring up everywhere in your body. Everything hurt and it felt like you were on fire. Agatha's fingers clutched you tightly, one of her hands carding through your hair as she attempted to comfort you. Rio was no where to be seen.

"Agatha," you choked out.

The woman above you shook her head, "Don't say it. You're fine. It'll pass."

You wanted to smile at her stubbornness, it was always your favorite trait about her. These past few days the curse had been getting worse, and Rio was disappearing more and more often. You knew what that meant. You were fairly certain Agatha knew what it meant, she just didn't want to admit it. Trying to fight through the sparks that shot through you, you played with her fingers, bringing them to your lips.

Your words were soft against her skin, "I love you."

"No, you have more time," she said harshly.

You felt it when Rio entered and based on Agatha's sharp inhale, you knew what she was here for. Painfully, you turned your head to look at Rio, clad in her green dress that represented the part of her that was alive. A bitter smile crossed your face.

"Don't take her," Agatha spat, her grip tightening on you despite your wince, "You can't." Trying to force words out of your mouth, you wanted to tell Agatha it was okay, that it wasn't Rio's fault. "If you do this I will hate you."

Rio's features flinched, but she made no move to step closer, "I held it off as long as I could."

"It's not her time," Agatha snarled.

While it was painful, you reached up, your hand cupping Agatha's cheek to force her to look at you, "My love," you whispered softly, "I have to go."

"No." She shook her head, so much desperation conveyed into that one movement.

"Don't hate her. Please? It's not her fault."

“I don’t want to do it,” Rio added, her voice wavering, and it was the first time you had ever heard her sound so fragile, so vulnerable.

Agatha's lower lip wobbled, tears shimmering in her eyes as she clenched her jaw, fighting off the sorrow. She closed her eyes, a small tear slipping out at the action and you wanted nothing more than to give her a big hug.

Her voice was oh so quiet when she whispered, "Okay."

A small smile spread across your face. It was only then that Rio came closer, bending down so her lips were just above yours. So many emotions were conveyed through her eyes. Words asking for forgiveness, ones that expressed her sadness, and some angry. You wanted to give her a hug too. Instead, Rio leant down, her lips brushing against yours.

The kiss deepened and that's when you felt the pain stop.

[monstersflashlight]

I know this is the monster fucking blog but can you do wholesome monster loving with the Tree Hole Debacle?

Like the reader bringing a picnic to the nature spirit?

A/N: You can find part 1 here, part 2 here, and part 3 (patreon exclusive) here. This is just very fluffy and soft and the furthest for horny ever, but I really enjoyed writing it, hope y’all enjoy reading it!

Forest entity: Picnics and situationships

Forest entity x fem!reader || sfw

Every time you’ve come to the forest, it’s with a secret intention.

Well, maybe not so secret because he always finds you and ends up giving you so much pleasure that you spend days in a dazed fog of post orgasm bliss. Let’s say it’s a secret intention for plot’s sake. Isn’t that what the cool kids say nowadays? Making bad choices… for the plot? Maybe you’re too old for that.

Anyway, you feel really bad because he always brings you pleasure but you don’t even try to befriend him. It must be lonely to live all alone in the forest. Or maybe it wasn’t, but how can you know? It’s not like you ever tried to talk to him when he was fucking you senseless… Okay, you weren’t the only one to blame for that- but you wanted to remedy it.

So here you are, parking your car and grabbing a basket full of food and a big plaid blanket. You take the compass out and follow it until you find yourself in a clearing. You know he should be around here, but you try to act nonchalant as you set your blanket on the ground and prepare your little basket with food.

It takes him less than five minutes to show up, emerging from the forest as his vines move around his body, giving him a kind of godly aura that makes your pussy tingly. Down girl, you remind yourself, we aren’t here for that.

“What are you doing here, human?” He asks. You can’t answer before he’s continuing. “The forest doesn’t want any offerings. I thought you’d be done after last time.” If you didn’t know better you’d say he’s smug about it. Truth be told, he can be smug about it. The things he did to you? Yeah, you still think about them every time you touch yourself.

“I- I didn’t come for that. I’m here to… To have a picnic,” you let out, which is technically correct. You try not to blush too hard, your whole body shivering at the intensity of his stare.

“In my forest?” He says, tilting his head to the side. You nod. “Why?”

“I just wanted to,” you lie.

He catches you instantly, making you feel even more embarrassed. “Lie. Try again.”

“I like nature,” another lie.

“Lie. Try again,” he repeats, almost as if he’s amused.

“Ugh. Okay. I just… I felt bad for always coming here to get fucked and I thought… I thought maybe we could spend some time together.”

“Why?” He asks, again.

“Why not?” You fire back, sounding like a five year old and wanting to stick your tongue out at him.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe you just need to go back to your house and stop thinking a literal forest entity has some kind of hurt feelings over fucking you dumb. You’re about to get up and gather everything to run away as fast as possible, but he stops you with one of his vines. He approaches you very carefully, as if he’s trying not to scare you away. His beauty feels forbidden in this light, and you almost have to look away as he sits in front of you, not on the blanket, but close enough.

He doesn’t say much, he doesn’t eat anything, but he seems to enjoy watching you talk and eat some of the snacks you brought. He looks curious as you tell him stuff about your life, so you go in deeper details, telling him about your day, your job, your friends… He never stops looking interested, and he even blooms some flowers when you say something particularly amusing to him.

It’s… really nice.

Like a gentleman, or more like a gentle-entity, he walks you to your car when the light starts to fade. He claims it’s because humans have poor vision (which is true), but you want to think it’s because he wants to spend a little more time with you.

Your suspicions are confirmed when he stops in front of your car. “I like to spend more time with you, human. I won’t be opposed to do it again. I’ll be waiting,” he says before disappearing into the forest again.

Well, shit.

Did you just get yourself into a situationship?

[harmonyrae]

Vow

Synopsis: You're so careful, so calculated, but one bad investment could ruin you. A leather-clad knight on a Harley has a solution to your problems, but are you brave enough to take the risk?

AN: Inked Sequel. The “FMC” was technically in Inked, so she has a set hair color. That is the only physical feature that has any relevance to the plot. Cover images from Pinterest.

Content Warnings: A LOT OF PLOT & angst, smut is coming soon & it's juicy (prepare yourself), explicit language & sexual themes, alcohol consumption, vehicle accident & serious injuries, blood/vomit mentioned, needles & medical procedures (stitches), masturbation (f), 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 14.8k

It’s cold. So damn cold. Is your evol acting up again? You feel something wet coating your leg, it’s warm and it hurts. Fuck, it hurts a lot. 

Your eyes flutter open as the warmth spreads from your shin to your thigh and continues up your right leg. You slowly turn your head and feel a dull ache along your upper back. It’s so dark, why is it so dark? Your hands reach up to rub your eyes, but come in contact with your helmet. You struggle to unhook the strap, panic slowly bubbling to the surface, and nearly cry out when you finally pull your helmet off. The helmet falls to the ground beside you and you tug your gloves off with your teeth. 

“Where the hell am I?”

You try to sit up, gritting your teeth to distract yourself from the searing pain shooting across your back. When you finally look down at the damp spot on your jeans, you roll to your side to vomit. Blood. Your pants leg is completely soaked in blood. Wiping your mouth with the backside of your hand, you squeeze your eyes closed and shake your head.

“You’re a fucking doctor, pull it together.”

You know how shock works and that the sight of blood wasn’t what turned your stomach. You see more blood than this on regular Tuesday, it’s just your body responding to the trauma. You push yourself upright and reach down to try and tear away the bloody fabric. Before you can make any progress you hear a loud rumble behind you. You stop to look around, your eyes burn as the wind whips across your face. You finally realize what happened and where you are.

You look over your shoulder and see your bike on the side of the road, tires popped, the body scratched and broken and a streak of blood leading down to where you’re sitting. You try to look for any sign of what caused the crash, but you’re too far down the ravine. There’s another loud pop and rumble. You scramble to place yourself behind the tree next to you, biting your lip to suppress a scream. Your hands sting from the sharp rocks and sticks slicing through your skin. You lean back against the trunk and wheeze, trying to catch your breath. 

What if it’s a cop? Or someone who knows you from the city? Your bike is registered with the police as belonging to a racer, and your attire wouldn’t help your case. They’d have to arrest you and then you could kiss your career goodbye. The hospital would have to fire you, you’d lose your apartment… What would your family think of you? What’ll happen to Ollie?! 

You’re on the verge of a complete breakdown when you hear the low roar of, what you think, might be another bike. Something big by the sounds of it. You wrap your arms around yourself and hold your breath, trying to become invisible. Boy, that’d be a handy superpower right about now. The bike slows and the brakes whine as it comes to a full stop. The rider dismounts and walks through the broken glass to your bike. Just as you’re about to lean over for a peek, you spot your helmet, discarded on the ground a few feet in front of you. You have no time to consider your options, the snap of a twig alerts you to the rider's new location. 

“Hello?”

A man, his voice deep and smooth as silk, cuts through the frigid night air. Another twig snaps, he’s closer. There’s nowhere you can go, but you’ve somehow convinced yourself that if you remain perfectly still, maybe he won’t keep looking for you or –

“Oh, hello there.”

Well fuck.

You glance up at the mountain of a man before you and instantly recognize his signature leather jacket and custom helmet. The brilliant red dragon hand painted with wings that turned to fire along the edges glimmers in the moonlight. Ryūō. You want to let out a sigh of relief, but he still had his helmet on, you didn’t, he’s seen your face.

A gloved hand reaches up to slide the visor up and reveal his eyes, his stunning eyes. You’ve never seen someone with ruby red irises before. And the longer you look into them, the more you feel like you’re falling. Usually having red eyes would be a cause for concern, but for him… they’re beautiful, ethereal, even. He gives you a once over before looking back at your helmet. When his piercing gaze returns to you, his eyes sparkle with excitement. 

“Yuki onna. As I live and breathe.”

Wait, he remembers you? He crouches down and examines your leg. He unzips his jacket and pulls a switchblade from an inner pocket. You shift, trying to create distance and he raises his hands, the blade balanced between two fingers. 

“Just wanted to see how bad it is. May I?”

You stare at him for a moment. You don’t have many options at the moment, so you nod, letting him proceed with opening the knife and cutting away the stained fabric from your ankle to your knee. 

“Are you cold?”

Your eyes snap to his and you open your mouth to respond, but the sound of your teeth chattering shuts you up. You shake your head. He shifts, letting one of his knees drop to the ground to sit back on his heels. His expression laced with doubt, or at least you think it is from what you could see of his face. 

“I’m just in shock. It makes you shake, I’m fine.”

He tilts his head, his brows knitting together.

“You a doctor?”

You nod and his brows unfurl to rise.

“Okay then, tell me what to do. Should I –”

��Don’t call an ambulance! I can’t… I can’t go to the hospital.”

He clears his throat, his eyes narrowing.

“I wasn’t going to suggest that. I have someone I can take you to, but I don’t want to make this worse before we get there.”

You push your shoulders back and suck your bottom lip into your mouth in an attempt to stop it from trembling. 

“Oh…”

He points at your leg with his blade. 

“So, tell me what to do doc.”

You rest your head against the tree and close your eyes, exhaling slowly.

“Okay, umm, is it an open wound?”

He shifts, leaves crunching under his weight.

“Yes.”

“Is it still bleeding?”

“It is.”

“Great… okay, I need you to cut the rest of that fabric away. Then make another cut to it, to make a long strip, you need to tie it around my thigh to slow the bleeding.”

The sounds of a knife cutting through fabric fill the space around you. His steady breathing, muffled by his helmet, is strangely comforting. You flinch when you feel his hand against your thigh. His steady hands pause for a moment, waiting for your permission to continue. You open your eyes, blinking back tears, and nod. He gently lifts your leg to pull the fabric underneath, lifting the strands on both sides.

“You need to make it tight.”

“How’s this?”

He ties the makeshift tourniquet securely and you groan, the fabric squeezing you to the point of discomfort. 

“Perfect.”

“Do you have any other injuries?”

You rotate your shoulders and shake your head. He retrieves your helmet and carefully places it on your head. You’d usually protest, your hands are fine, but your adrenaline is wearing off. He secures the strap and leans down to look at you directly.

“Can I pick you up?”

Your stomach flips and you’re almost afraid you’ll vomit again. Swallowing hard, you nod again. He wraps an arm around your waist and tucks the other under your knees, lifting you off the ground with ease. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck and let your head rest against his shoulder. He carries you out of the ravine to the road where his massive Harley is parked next to your poor Katana. He carefully sits you down and props your feet up on the foot pegs. 

“One sec.”

He walks over to your bike, pulling it off the ground and dragging it to the bushes. As he walks back, he fishes his phone from his pocket, presses a button and tucks it back into his pocket. He swings his leg over and sits in front of you. 

“Luke, I have a bike I need you to pick up and deliver to the shop. Ping my location. And bring Kieran to clean up. Make sure he checks the ravine. Call me when it’s done.”

He lifts the kickstand with his heel and walks the bike backwards a few steps. He shoves the key into the ignition and the engine roars to life. His hand pats his side and you lean forward slightly, holding onto his waist lightly. You can hear his soft chuckle as he shakes his head.

“You know better than that Yuki.” 

The bike lurches forward as he takes off and you squeal at the sudden jolt. You’re forced to lean forward and wrap your arms around him. His firmness grounds you, the way his abs tense when he leans taking a turn becomes damn near hypnotizing. You close your eyes and focus on following his lead. 

“Hey, I need you at the clinic. Injured biker. Maybe a broken leg? Yeah, be there in 5.”

“You never said who you were taking me to.”

He lets out a breathy laugh. 

“You’re right. I didn’t.”

You wait for him to continue, but he remains silent.

“Well?”

“Don’t worry Yuki, he’s a good doctor.”

You scoff and squeeze your arms together making Ryūō laugh harder. You don’t have to live in suspense for too long, he pulls into the parking lot for a small apartment building after a few minutes. He parks his bike and dismounts, he gently lifts your bad leg and brings it over the seat. He takes off your helmet before leaning forward, expecting you to wrap your arms around him again. You roll your eyes, but comply. He picks you up and carries you into the building and straight to the elevator. 

The inside of the building is opulent, with gold sconces and chandeliers, and art pieces look more expensive than your entire apartment. Looking over his shoulder, you realize the glass doors and windows are one-way glass. This doctor must value his privacy. 

You watch the numbers above the elevator doors rise, pointedly avoiding the heat of Ryūō’s gaze. Which you can feel burning into the side of your face. The elevator finally stops at the top floor and you're carried into the penthouse. A comfortable living space, large kitchen, sliding doors leading to a balcony - nothing special. And then you’re brought to a room that makes you nearly swallow your tongue. 

The dimly lit room is a fully stocked operating room. Machines lined neatly against the wall, cabinets you assume are full of supplies, an industrial refrigerator sits in the corner humming softly. You’re carried through another door into what looks like a recovery room. A soft bed, a vitals monitor, an ensuite bathroom, shelves stocked with surgical gloves, blankets and rolls of gauze. Ryūō sets you down on the bed and props your leg up.

“The bed I –”

“We have replacement sheets and mattresses, don’t worry.”

You shut your mouth and finally let your body relax. Every muscle screaming, every nerve completely shot. You close your eyes and hear Ryūō walk to the door and open it, stepping through to talk with someone on the other side. You lift your head and stare at the door - like staring at it will help you hear them better. A familiar muffled tone reaches your ears and you sit up, your hands braced behind you. 

“She was nearly at the finish line too. I don’t know why no one else stopped, her bike was right on the side of the road.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you did or she may have bled out. She’s in recovery?”

There’s no way.

The door opens and Ryūō walks in, but the man behind him makes you want to scream.

“Zayne?!”

Zayne’s shoulders tense as he looks up at you. His eyes widen and his body becomes rigid. But just as quickly as the panic settles, it vanishes and he stalks over to the bed. His expression alone made you wish you had bled out on the side of the road. 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Angry Zayne usually amused you, but being on the receiving end was not so fun. You glare at him and cock your head to the side.

“I could ask you the same question.”

His brows furrowed and he steps back, taking off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. Ryūō approaches and leans against the wall next to your bed. His eyes lit up with curiosity. 

“You two know each other?”

Zayne looks over at him and sighs. He puts his glasses back on and turns to face you again.

“Sylus, this is my sister.”

“You have a sister?”

Ryūō, or rather Sylus as Zayne referred to him, undoes the straps of his helmet. With his real name used, he doesn’t see a need for it anymore. As soon as he pulls it off, you wish he hadn’t. His eyes were stunning, but now seeing them with the rest of his face… You almost forgot about the pain in your leg. The sharp line of his jaw, his prominent nose, his heart-shaped lips set in a smirk - he’s devastating. He removes his beanie and runs a hand through his hair, the same silvery white as your own. He looks too young for it to be natural, but then again, so do you. 

Sylus raises a brow and you realize you’ve been caught staring. You return your focus to Zayne. 

“Zayne, what are you doing?”

He shifts uncomfortably, but then he catches sight of your leg and his anger melts into concern. 

“Questions later.”

He motions for Sylus.

“We need to get her into the OR.”

“Zayne, you’re not going to perform surgery on me in an apartment, are you?!”

Sylus picks you up and you yelp. He smiles down at you and looks to be thoroughly enjoying your embarrassment. He walks back into the makeshift operating room and sets you down on the raised bed. Zayne washes his hands at the sink in the corner and puts on a fresh pair of gloves. He begins to examine your leg, completely ignoring your influx of questions.

“The skin is broken, but it’s just a cut, not a compound. Zayne, talk to me.”

Zayne puts pressure on either side of the wound and a trickle of blood oozes from the wound, dripping down your leg. You gasp and Zayne looks at you over his glasses. Typical. 

“Zayne, seriously, you’re not –”

“Wouldn’t be the first surgery I’ve performed here.” He interrupts. “I won’t operate if I don’t have to, but I need to know how serious this is.”

You groan, wincing with every poke and prod. 

“She needs an x-ray.”

Sylus is picking you up again before you can even comment. There’s no way they have an x-ray machine here, impossible. Sylus seemingly reads your mind.

“We have an MRI too. Impressive, right?”

He carries you into a room with a whole ass x-ray machine, the wall nearby lined with aprons. Sylus places you on the table and moves to let Zayne work. He drapes an apron over your stomach and hips, carefully straightens your leg, moves the detector under your leg and the collimator overhead. 

“You know the drill.”

You cross your arms and look at the wall in the opposite direction. Zayne’s footsteps, joined by Sylus’s, exit the room and after a few minutes you hear the machine turn on. You force yourself to stay still and try your best to calm your racing mind. Zayne is the head of the Cardiothoracic department, why is he working as an underground doctor on the side?

“Turn to the right, if you can.”

Zayne’s voice echoes from a speaker somewhere in the dark room. You carefully rotate and let your leg rest on its side. Another brief moment of silence before the machine whirs. The machine shuts off and he and Sylus re-enter the room to collect you. Once you’re in the “operating room” again, Zayne leaves to get the x-ray results and Sylus goes into the recovery room and closes the door partially. You’re left alone with your thoughts for a moment and it takes all your willpower not to spiral. 

“Is it done?”

Sylus’s muffled voice grabs your attention and you look up to see him in the partially opened doorway. You silently pray he doesn’t look over, because you’re absolutely staring now. He pulls his sweater over his head and tosses it in front of him as he talks on the phone, your mouth starts watering. Jesus, you really need to get laid or something, this is embarrassing. 

His bare torso is like a canvas at an art gallery with all the ornate tattoos etched into his smooth skin. His arms were covered in what looked like traditional Yakuza tattoos, but they were somehow… softer. The lines are delicate, faded, merging to create something beautiful. The arm you could see has traditional Japanese waves and bright red maple leaves. When he turns, the lines of something almost geometric etched along his back, like wings, come into view. As he slides a t-shirt over his head, you spot the body of a dragon weaving down his side and over his stomach, disappearing at his waistband. You have a single moment to get your shit together before he re-enters the room and approaches you. You keep your eyes locked on your hands, picking at your fingernails. 

“So, what should I call you?”

You force yourself to look up at him, putting on your best poker face before you give yourself away. But before you can speak, you see another tattoo and your brain shuts down. His sweater and helmet covered most of his neck, so now you can see it clearly, especially with how close he is to you. Down the center of his neck a traditional katana striking through the mouth of the lower half of an Oni mask. The mask is a gorgeous scarlet, surrounded by matching spider lilies. 

“Like what you see?”

Shit. 

You clear your throat and meet his eyes. 

“Just admiring the tattoo… It’s nice.”

He smiles and dips his head to level with you. 

“Just call me Yuki.”

Sylus opens his mouth to respond, but Zayne cuts him off.

“You’re extremely lucky.”

He holds the film up to the light and points to the hairline fracture along your tibia. You let out a relieved sigh. Zayne sets the film down and pulls his chair over to the table before carefully laying out a suturing kit. 

“I still need to suture this and I recommend using crutches, but knowing you, a boot will suffice.”

He turns to wash his hands, slowly rolling up his sleeves. If you had a dollar for every time you’re rendered speechless tonight, you’d have enough to buy multiple overpriced coffees at the hospital coffee cart. 

“Zayne?! What the fuck?”

Zayne dries his hands and wrists before grabbing a pair of gloves. He returns to the table and opens a new syringe to prepare the local anesthetic. Your eyes are locked on his wrists and forearms, you’re barely able to form a sentence.

“When… when did you… wha…”

Zayne looks at you, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He injects the anesthetic and begins to clean the surrounding skin. 

“When did you get tattoos?”

He chuckles under his breath and sits back in his chair, looking down at his nearly blacked out forearms. Patterns of icicles and snowflakes stand out against the dark ink. The tattoos continue up to his elbows and, you assume, beyond. But his hands are completely bare and the starting line is perfectly lined up with the ends of his sleeves. How many other tattoos does he have hidden?

“A few years ago.”

You reach out to hit him, but he rolls his chair backwards to grab more gauze. 

“Did you have them when I got my first one?”

He hesitates before rolling back over. He refuses to meet your eyes and you grab the pillow behind you, launching it straight for his head. 

“And you let mom and dad lecture me about tattoos being ‘inappropriate for the workplace’ especially ‘within the medical community’ - and you said NOTHING!” 

Sylus laughs, clearly enjoying the argument. 

“No one knows. I don’t show them to anyone.”

“I know.”

Sylus’s shit-eating grin almost makes you forget yourself. 

“Of course you know. You were there when I got them.”

Your eyes widen and you look between the two men. 

“Wait, how long have you two known each other?!”

Zayne gently taps the skin around the wound and you shake your head. He begins threading the needle and conveniently ignores your question to focus. Sylus, on the other hand, is more than happy to give context. 

“About six years ago now, right doc? A little incident helped our paths cross. Since then we’ve been associates, maybe even friends.”

Zayne glares at Sylus over his glasses.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

Sylus gasps dramatically.

“Oh, I’m hurt, I thought we had something, doc.”

Zayne shakes his head and begins suturing the wound closed. His steady hands threading the skin and carefully pulling it closed. While you know it’s numb, you still wince at the sensation of something lightly pricking at your skin. Zayne keeps his focus on your leg as Sylus crosses his arms to watch him work.

“Tattoos, a clinic on the border to the N109 Zone, an illegal one at that. Who are you?”

Zayne’s jaw twitches, his movements remain slow and steady. He finishes a perfect line of sutures and looks up.

“I’m not the only one with secrets. You’re a racer? Illegal bike racing? If you get caught you can kiss your residency at Akso goodbye, and your career for that matter.”

You rub your hands down your face and shrug. 

“Guess we both have alter egos then.”

He scoffs and stands to grab a roll of gauze. He bends your knee and places your foot flat on the bed and does one final clean before wrapping your leg.

“What were you thinking… you could have died.”

Zayne’s voice is clipped, but you can feel his concern. Your chest aches and you dig your nails into your thighs, none of this should be happening to begin with. With your adrenaline level and your wound addressed, the metaphorical fog clears and you remember what’s at stake.

“No no no no… fuck… I’m fucked…”

Zayne stops wrapping your leg to hold onto your knee, attempting to steady you. Your body shakes violently.

“Is she in shock again?”

Sylus hurries to your side and looks to Zayne for answers. Zayne presses the back of his hand to your forehead and reaches up to hold your face in his hands.

“Hey, hey, breathe, what’s going on?”

The time for shame was long gone, your career was hanging by a thread and now your life might be as well. Sylus leans on the bed and looks down at you, his stoic expression softened with concern.

“I… I owe someone.”

Sylus and Zayne share a look. You flop back onto the bed and cover your eyes with your arm.

“I started racing a few years ago. I was doing so well in amateur races that I got invited to the professional, high stakes ones.”

“The buy-in for those races… how did you afford that?”

Zayne was all too familiar with the financial struggle of residency. He not only lived through it, but started the Residency Relief program at Akso to help struggling residents. 

“I did… really well in the amateur scene.”

“You gambled.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, glaring at Zayne as he tapes over the gauze. 

“And I made enough money to pay off my student loans and cover the downpayment for my apartment. The rest I invested in my bike and it paid off.”

“So what went wrong?”

You lock eyes with Sylus, his finger rhythmically tapping his cheek as he listens. 

“There was a competition and I… I made a bad investment. I didn’t even place. When I found out who I really made the deal with… it was too late, I’ve been trying to pay him back.”

“How much?”

Zayne removes his glasses and crosses his arms. God, he looks like dad when he does that - it’s terrifying. 

“I bet $250k…”

Zayne’s mouth drops open and Sylus chuckles.

“And let me guess, the bastard slapped a loser's fee and interest on top.” 

You side-eye Sylus, of course, he would know the ins and outs of racing bets. 

“The total came out to a little over $600k.”

“Fuckin’ hell.”

Zayne collapses back in his chair as Sylus whistles. 

“How much have you paid back?”

You cover your face, you never thought shame or embarrassment could kill, but here you are, barely hanging on.

“He doesn’t do payment plans.”

“Who?”

Sylus’s voice is rough, darker than before. You drop your hands and look up at him. He doesn’t look away, his eyes burn straight through you. You barely know who Sylus is outside of who he presents himself to be as Ryūō. He rests his knuckles on the bed and leans forward, his nose almost brushing yours. 

“Who?”

You clear your throat and try to maintain eye contact. 

“Volkova.”

Sylus smiles. A sinister, venomous smile that sends a chill down your spine. 

“I had nearly $500k saved and today’s race was supposed to be the last one. I was so careful, planning everything, I’d only have to make one double or nothing bet and I’d have enough to pay off Volkova and get caught up on bills. Maybe even have a little extra to chuck for savings. It was a track I’ve done before, turnout was lower than predicted, I was so goddamn close.”

“And then you crashed.”

You can’t stop the tears from spilling over. Sylus stands and crosses the room to look out the window. Zayne stands and rounds the bed to sit beside you. His arm wraps around your shoulders and he pulls you into a hug.

“I lost everything… I can’t pay… He’s going to…”

“He’s not going to do anything, I’ll write a check.”

You push against his chest so you can look him in the eye.

“No, you can’t. He’ll see your name and… he’ll come after you. Writing a check for that much, for me?”

“You’re worried he’ll extort me? I can give you cash.”

“He’s tracking my bank statements, he’ll see a massive cash out and realize I lost a bet. And then if I suddenly pay him in full he’ll be suspicious, he’ll find out, I know he will.”

“Did he give you a deadline? Maybe we can stagger the deposits?”

Your chest caves as you fall forward, Zayne catches you and holds you close.

“It’s… in a week. I’m… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… god…”

Sylus’s voice startles you, the timbre of his voice making you shiver.

“I’m guessing he didn’t tell you exactly what will happen if you fail to pay?”

You peek over Zayne’s shoulder at him. He sways gently, his hands tucked in his pockets. His strong features bathed in moonlight. When you don’t respond, he continues.

“He’ll probably use you. If he knows you’re a doctor, he’ll probably make you his private, personal and permanent physician. Forcing you to be available to him at any given moment.” 

You shiver at the thought of being dragged into some dark warehouse to dig bullet fragments out of wounds or ordering you to steal medicine from Akso. 

“I have a solution for you.”

Both you and Zayne sit up and look over at Sylus, who finally turns to face you. 

“Marry me.”

“What?!” You and Zayne shout in unison.

Sylus laughs, he rubs the back of his neck as he walks over to the side of the bed. You expect his expression to change, to make it clear his offer was a joke, but his jaw is set, brows relaxed - he’s serious? He places a hand behind you and leans down.

“We’d both benefit.”

Zayne stands and yanks Sylus back. He meets his gaze as an unnatural chill settles between them. You look over Zayne’s arms, the dark ink doesn’t hide the veins of ice forming, they spread down his wrists and over his hands. You see Sylus eyeing the crystals of ice forming on his sleeve where Zayne holds onto him. 

“Doc, I assure you, it’s a business arrangement, not a plot to get into your sister’s pants.”

Zayne’s eye twitches as snowflakes start to subtly fall around the men. You shift to the side of the bed and try to stand up, indoor flurries are never a good sign, he’s about to snap. When your feet hit the floor, you stumble, your legs are weaker than you expected. 

“Shit!”

The sensation of falling only lasts a moment before you are weightless, streams of black and red circle around you keeping you upright. The threads pick you up effortlessly and sit you back on the bed. Zayne rushes to your side and holds onto your shoulders, forcing you to sit back as he guides your leg back up on the bed. Sylus remains stationary, but you feel his eyes on you. 

“What was that?”

“It’s his evol, are you okay? What were you doing?”

You shove Zayne back.

“Stopping you from making him into a popsicle!”

Zayne glares at you, he tucks his hands under his arms to hide the frost, even though he knows you’ve already seen it.

“Don’t tell me you’re considering it?”

“I don’t think I’m in any state to consider anything!” 

Zayne’s expression softens, he knows you’re right. He hasn’t even addressed your blood loss or potential road rash across your back. He uncrosses his arms and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, gently holding your face for a moment. 

“You’re right. I’m going to get an IV from the kitchen, we’ll talk about all of this once you’ve rested.”

Your brows knit together and you open your mouth, but Zayne already knows your question.

“Don’t ask. I’ll be right back.” 

He leaves and you make a mental note to ask about the kitchen IVs later. You sense Sylus' approach, and you slowly look over to him. 

“I’m serious, by the way. Think it over. I’ll be in touch.”

He turns to leave and you reach out to grab onto his arm. His muscles twitch and he stares at your hand before dragging his eyes up to meet yours. 

“My… my bike?”

Sylus places his hand over yours. His warmth spreads through your fingers, up your arm and straight to your head. Your cheeks flush as he rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. 

“It’s been delivered to the shop. And the crash site has been cleaned. No blood, or vomit, left behind.”

You pull your hand back, god, you want to crawl into a hole and never come out. Sylus’ raspy laugh doesn’t help things, your head spins just from his touch, and he wants to marry you? For business, of course, but… no, you can’t really be considering this? Right?

“Talk to you soon, Yuki.”

You’re dissociating again. Everything feels far away, sounds, smells, even your vision - it’s like you’re looking through a tube. Your nerves are so fried when a hand touches your shoulder you jump.

“Oh, sorry! Your eggs are burning hun.”

Yvonne’s soothing voice slowly draws you back to this plane of existence. Looking down you see your eggs are sticking to the pan in dark clumps. You jab at them with a spatula and it dawns on you, you didn’t put butter down first. You pick up the pan and carry it to the sink, dropping it into the empty side with a loud clatter. You turn on the water and a huge plume of smoke billows upwards as the cool water hits the hot pan. You cough, swinging your hand wildly.

“Shit…”

Yvonne rushes to the balcony door and slides it open before grabbing the newspaper off the kitchen table to fan the smoke outside. Ollie, your rambunctious Maine Coon, rushes out the door and jumps up on the railing. 

“Ollie! No!”

You abandon the smoking pan to run after him, he’s too clumsy to sit on the railing like that. You approach him with your hands on your hips and he dips his head. He’s the perfect mix of black and white, his green eyes blinking slowly as he tries to guilt trip you into letting him stay. Not today. You pick him up and he stretches his front legs around your neck, his hugs will always soothe your soul.

“Come on ya big baby. You can be outside if you use your tower, not the railing.”

You plop him down on the top level of his cat tower and hurry back inside. Greyson is at the sink addressing the mess you made. He looks over his shoulder and gives you his best attempt at a scowl.

“What is up with you lately? You didn’t even turn off the stove!”

“I’m sorry… I’ve just… Not being at work has been messing with my head.”

Zayne convinced, or rather forced, you to take at least 3 days off to let the swelling in your leg go down before returning to work. No one questioned his approval for your time off and Greyson and Yvonne have been hesitant to ask what really happened to your leg. Your story about falling down the stairs at the gym was… less than convincing.

“Well you get to go back tomorrow, yeah?”

You nod and sit down at the kitchen table. Yvonne places a bowl of cereal in front of you and you give her an apologetic smile. She runs her hand through your hair and looks over at Greyson.

“How about we bring home dinner tonight? We can play jeopardy, Greyson, you still have the board from last time, right?”

He nods, carrying the pan to the garbage can to scrape the burnt egg into the trash. 

“Yeah, I’ve written up some new prompts too.”

Greyson prides himself on the jeopardy game he created to help residents study for the boards. Even Zayne was impressed with the level of detail. 

“Okay then! We’ll see you tonight. Call me if you need anything, promise?”

You smile up at Yvonne, she’s been your best friend since the very first day of your residency. This soft spoken, tiny woman was a powerhouse when she needed to be. She had worked at Akso as a nurse for about 3 years before taking an extended leave to attend medical school. She’d earned her place in the residency program before she even graduated. Greyson, an attending, had started dating Yvonne when she was still a nurse. They’ve been together ever since. Moving in with them was an… interesting decision, but you’ve never once regretted it. 

“Shit, we’re gonna be late.”

Greyson rushes out of the kitchen and into his and Yvonne’s shared bedroom. Yvonne giggles and pats your shoulder.

“With how he drives, there’s no shot we’re late.”

You laugh while she follows him into the bedroom to finish getting ready. Ollie jumps up on the table and lays down in front of your bowl. He might have been the runt of his liter, but when he stretches he’s still extremely long, almost the width of the table. He gives you the saddest look and you know what he’s asking for. You finish your cereal and dip your finger in the milk, extending it to him so he can lick it off. His little chirp of satisfaction brings a smile to your face. 

Greyson and Yvonne leave a few minutes later and you’re on your own. During your time off, you’ve tried studying or reviewing old case notes, but your current predicament was too distracting. How are you supposed to focus on your boards when your life hangs in the balance? 

Ring Ring

Your cell phone chimes and your stomach drops when you see the caller ID. The only unknown caller you’re used to getting calls from is Volkova. And he called yesterday… Did he find out about the accident? Does he know you lost all the money you’d saved? 

“Hello?”

“Good morning Yuki, how’ve you been?”

A voice deeper and rougher than Volkova’s flows through the phone. Your breath catches in your throat for a moment as you search for the right words. You hadn’t expected to hear from Sylus so soon. 

“I’m… umm… I’ve been better.”

“I assume you’ve heard from Volkova?”

You grunt as you stand from the table to shuffle over to the couch. You flop down and cover your eyes with your hand.

“I – oof!”

“What happened?”

You start to laugh as you look down at Ollie who jumped up on your chest. He crouches down and tucks his front paws under, the ultimate loaf. You rub his ears and his motor starts, you’re sure even Sylus can hear him purring. 

“It’s nothing, just my cat. Wasn’t ready for his chunky butt to land on my chest!”

Sylus chuckles, he sounds almost… relieved? 

“But yes, I’ve heard from Volkova.”

“Four days, right?”

Goosebumps spread over your body. The threat Volkova made is still fresh in your mind. 

“Yes, and according to him, I won’t like what happens if I don’t have the money.”

Sylus pauses. A tear drips down your cheek and you close your eyes to slow the flow. 

“Have you considered my offer?”

You let out a shaky breath and hold onto Ollie, the steady rumble of his purring grounds you. 

“I don’t get it, how does marrying you fix anything? I mean, I assume you have some kind of power if you think Volkova wouldn’t fuck with me if I’m with you. But then – I mean, what’s in it for you? I’m just a doctor! Not even an official doctor, I’m a resident. I don’t understand how –”

“Woah, slow down there sweetie. I can only answer one question at a time.”

His sudden switch up in nicknames renders you speechless. You close your mouth and wait for him to start filling in the blanks.

“You assume I have some kind of power?”

“Yes.”

“How familiar are you with the N109 Zone?”

“Not very, I mostly just know the city layout thanks to races.”

Sylus laughs, the sound is infectious. It’s a carefree laugh, you’re a tad envious.

“What do you know about Onychinus?”

“The gang?”

“I prefer ‘criminal organization’.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the only sound that escapes is a squeak. Ollie’s ears twitch and his eyes open half-way, he stares at your mouth as if waiting for a mouse to crawl out. You lift your hand to rake through your hair. 

“Surprised?”

You nod, realizing a few seconds later that he, in fact, cannot see you.

“Ye-yeah. You… you’re…?”

“The N109 Zone has been relatively peaceful under my control, but now Volkova has weaseled his way into the racing scene. And apparently, is taking advantage of young women who’ve clearly never made high-stakes bets before.”

“Hey!”

“So you were aware he would charge you an outrageous losers fee and stack unrealistic interest rates?” 

You can’t argue with him there. If you had known, you never would have made the bet.

“Volkova’s been in the game long enough to know a novice when he sees one. And you’re not the only one he’s doing this to. He’s crossing lines and staking a claim. In my territory. And that… just can’t happen.”

“So marriage…?”

“Marrying me puts you under my protection. You won’t be paying him a penny and unless he has a death wish, he won’t come after you. He needs to learn his place. And you need time to rebuild after the accident.”

“Rebuild?”

“I can offer you protection and stability while you get back on your feet, both physically and financially.”

“And I’m just supposed to be a pawn in your game with Volkova?”

“You’re already a pawn, I’m offering you a chance to become the queen. Protecting you from him is just one way you’ll be helping me regain control of the Zone.”

“What else do you expect from me then?”

“You’re a doctor, with a completely clean record. I have legal businesses who want to work with Onychinous but won’t sign a contract with my name on it. They’re worried it might ruin their reputation. You, however, can present yourself as an up-and-coming surgeon who wants to make the N109 Zone a ‘better place’ - they’ll sign in a heartbeat.” 

“And no one will question why this completely clean ‘up-and-coming surgeon’ married the notorious leader of a ‘criminal organization’?” 

“Of course they will, but if they know what’s good for them they’ll keep their mouths shut. And if you’re worried about your hospital friends, my public persona in circles where my real identity is a mystery, I’m just the owner of a successful Winery.”

“A Winery?”

“Who lives at his vineyard in the N109 Zone.”

Ollie’s automatic feeder turns on and the sound of his food trickling into the bowl wakes him up. He leaps onto the coffee table and sprints for the kitchen. You stand up and limp out onto the balcony. His plan is solid, his offer makes sense… no matter how many times you review it in your mind, you can’t find a reason to turn it down. 

“Still with me?”

“Yeah, yeah… I just… I don’t want it to seem like… ugh…”

“It’s not about the money. I’m not buying you and you’re not a gold digger. We’re partners in this, business partners.”

The tension in your shoulders fade, the knot in your stomach uncoils, and you can finally take a deep breath for the first time in weeks. You’ve always been independent, determined to take care of yourself with zero help from anyone. Sylus wasn’t offering to fix it for you, you’d be helping each other. You’d never even considered getting married, your career was more important. But this was a business deal, logical, realistic, beneficial for multiple parties. It wouldn’t intrude on your career plan. 

“Okay. Let’s do it. On one condition.”

“And what is that Yuki?”

“We revisit this arrangement yearly. If it’s no longer beneficial for both of us, we part ways. I’ll sign a prenup or whatever else you want if you agree that we’re not going to take advantage of each other.”

“Deal.”

You stare at your hands.

“So what now?”

“Give me a day to make arrangements. We won’t do anything ostentatious, it’ll draw too many wandering eyes. But we’ll want Volkova to hear about it and see us together, just so the message is clear. I’ll call you tonight. I suggest talking to your family, whatever story you come up with I’ll play along.”

“Okay, yeah…”

“Talk to you soon.”

He hangs up and you stare at your phone. When you decided to get into racing you never thought you’d end up here. You know would-ofs and could-ofs are pointless, but your whole life is about to change. You pull up Zayne’s number. Your parents have become more easy-going in their old age, they won’t like the idea of a shotgun wedding, but you doubt they’ll cut you off because of it. You’re their baby girl, they’ve always been a little softer with you. Zayne, on the other hand…

“Hello?”

“Hey Zayne!”

“Are you okay? Did your stitches rip?”

“No no, I’m okay. I need to talk to you. Could you come over for lunch?”

Zayne is silent for a while. You’re tempted to repeat the question, but he clears his throat.

“I can. I’ll put Greyson on call for me.”

“Okay, yeah! Umm… I’ll make some…”

You stand up and waddle into the kitchen, which still smells like burnt eggs. 

“Actually, I’ll order something. Does noon work?”

He hums in agreement. Before you can say another word you hear the tell-tale sound of his pager. He gives you a hasty goodbye and hangs up, probably running down the hall to the OR by now. The possibility of Zayne being angry with you turns your stomach. He’s the most important person in your life, you can’t lose him. 

Meow!

Ollie strolls into the kitchen and rubs against your boot. You stumble as you shift your leg away, he clearly doesn’t care that you’re unsteady because he just turns to rub your other leg. You bend over and pick him up, his legs wrap around your neck and you shove your face into his fur. 

“Don’t worry buddy, you’re still my baby boy. Nothing will change that.”

He purrs and rubs his face into your hair. At least you’ll always have Ollie.

You’ve just set down the last box of takeout when your doorbell rings again. You shuffle over to the door and peek through the peephole. Zayne stands on the other side with a small box in his hands, his hair wet from the rain that started just moments ago. You swing open the door and invite him in.

“It was just sunny out 15 minutes ago! Where did this storm come from?”

Zayne sets the box on the entry table and shrugs his coat off, hanging it on the hook by the door. You pick up the box and lift up a corner. You see two cupcakes, decorated with a thick layer of chocolate frosting. Zayne smacks your hand away and takes the box back.

“The Italian bakery across the street from Akso added new items to their menu.”

He walks past you and sets the box down amongst the takeout boxes. You follow him and push a container towards him.

“Well, I got onigiri, udon and curry rice from Katei ryōri, they opened up a new location closer to us so Greyson and Yvonne have been ordering a ton. I had coupons for free nama donuts cause they’ve been ordering so much. So you can pick and choose, whatever you want, totally up to you and –”

“You’re rambling.”

Zayne sits down and opens the udon to put in a bowl. You sit across from him and pick at your fingernails. He watches you as he makes himself a plate of curry rice. 

“I assume you wanted to talk to me about the Volkova situation?”

You nod.

“So, you’re accepting my help, yes?”

You shake your head. He sets the container of rice down, takes off his glasses and tucks them in his breast pocket. He links his fingers together and rests his arms on the table, leaning forward to stare at you.

“Zayne…”

“Please tell me you’re not considering Sylus’s offer.”

You bite your lip and dig your nails into your palms.

“I already agreed to it.”

Zayne’s face goes from stern to shocked to angry in rapid succession. He pushes his chair back and stands. He walks toward the door and takes his coat off the hook. You quickly stand and run - well more like quickly walk - to stop him. You grab his coat and hold it tight against you.

“Zayne please…”

“You’ve already made up your mind. I’m not sure why you couldn’t have told me this over the phone.”

His tone is eerily calm. 

“Because you would have hung up on me and avoided me for weeks. I know you think this is a bad idea, but…”

“It is a bad idea.”

“I haven’t been able to think about anything else since the accident. I’ve tried to figure out a way to deal with this and Sylus’s offer makes the most sense.”

“How can you possibly think that? You don’t even know who he is!”

“I do! He told me. And this arrangement is beneficial for both of us, it’s like a business deal! It’s the most logical –”

“A business deal? You’re marrying him. You’re making vows. How can you think this is the best option? I’m right here, offering you a way out and you’re trusting him over your own brother?”

He reaches for his coat, but you hold tight. He rubs the bridge of his nose and retrieves his glasses, sliding them on before grabbing the door handle. He only opens the door a crack before you step in front of him and press your back against it, slamming it shut. 

“Zayne please! I… I need to do this. You don’t have to like it, but I’m begging you, please, please don’t walk away.”

Zayne’s image becomes blurry as your eyes fill with tears. Your big brother has always been there for you, if he walks away now you’re not sure how you’ll handle it. He turns and walks into your living room, sitting in the armchair by the window. Ollie jumps up on his lap and he doesn’t even try to push him away. 

“What will mom and dad think?”

You sit down across from him and quickly swipe a tear away as it falls. 

“I’ve already talked to them.”

Zayne looks up with wide eyes. Ollie chirps as if he’s responding in kind. 

“I told them I met someone and I didn’t mention being in a relationship because I didn’t think it would last given the pressure of residency. That he proposed and we don’t want to waste time or money on a big wedding. Mom’s surprised but happy and dad’s just glad he doesn’t have to pay for anything.”

“And what do they think he does?”

“Sylus told me he has a persona that owns a Winery. That his vineyard is in the N109 Zone and he’s very private.” 

“And what are you going to tell mom when she asks about grandkids?”

“She’s always known I put my career first. That won’t change.”

“So you’re just going to marry him and what? Live a lie?”

And with that, your last shred of self-control disappears.

“You can’t say shit about living a lie! You have secrets that I still can’t wrap my head around! Tattoos? A secret clinic or, actually, a whole ass secret hospital that you use to treat racers and whoever else Sylus might bring to you! You can’t be serious, Zayne!”

Zayne looks down at Ollie on his lap. His nimble fingers stroke the center of his forehead, making Ollie’s eyes close. 

“Sylus helped me a few years ago. I wouldn’t be a doctor if he hadn’t stepped in. I doubt I’d be alive. And you’re right, I do have secrets. I never wanted you to get too close because you have your whole career ahead of you. But now…”

He finally looks up at you, his anger long gone, replaced with fear. You’ve never seen him look afraid. He was always your brave big brother. Helping you manage your shared evol, teaching you how to use it to keep bullies away when you entered high school, protecting you from Wanderers or creeps on the street. But now, he’s afraid, and you don’t know why.

“Now you’re facing something equally as dangerous and I… I don’t want you to throw away your future.”

You lean forward and take his hand, ignoring Ollie’s disgruntled growls as Zayne stops petting him. 

“I’m not. I’m making sure I still have one and that I’m the one in control of it.”

“And you think Sylus can give you that?”

“I do.”

Zayne sighs. When he looks up at you again, his fear has been locked away. 

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea, but… I will support you. Just don’t come running to me when you realize what a pain in the ass Sylus is!”

You giggle and stand to wrap and arm around him. His stiff posture relaxes and he pats your shoulder. 

“Let’s eat, I have a left ventricular remodeling in an hour.”

When Sylus informed you the wedding would be on Saturday - literally 2 days away - you may have panicked just a bit. And by a bit, you may have spiraled while on the phone with him and he had to talk you through some breathing exercises. 

“We’re scheduled with Judge Bishop for noon. We’ll get the vows and paperwork out of the way and then around 5 the reception will start.”

“The reception?”

“Since we’re doing a private ceremony, a public reception is the best way to get the news out. It’ll also be a chance for you to celebrate with your friends and family - I don’t want our arrangement to drive a wedge in your relationships.”

You lay back on your bed and pull your blanket up to your chin. Ollie chirps at the sudden change in his sleeping arrangement. He quickly readjusts, curling into a ball against your back.

“Okay, vows at noon, reception at 5.”

“Tell you what, how about we meet for dinner on Friday night. We can go over the details in person. I have a few more things to finalize anyway.”

“Uhh dinner? Wh-where?”

Sylus is quiet for a moment.

“I’ll pick you up after work and we’ll go wherever you like.”

Work was unbearably slow - which is objectively a good thing in the medical field - but you’re miserable. Ever since you told Greyson and Yvonne about the wedding, they’ve been distant, even at work. When Yvonne finally stopped giving you the silent treatment, she nearly cried arguing with you over why you kept your “relationship” a secret from her. While she forgave you, you know she’ll be hesitant to trust you for a while. 

Friday afternoon held the same pattern, the ER was slow, your appointments were postponed thanks to your leg and Yvonne and Greyson avoided you for the most part. Thankfully they sat with you at lunch to discuss the reception happening the following evening. And by the time your shift was over, Yvonne was hugging you and squealing about being invited to the vow exchange. She would be your maid of honor if you’d done things the traditional way, so she deserved to be there. 

While you thought ahead and brought a dress to change into, you were almost tempted to just wear your scrubs. Why were you trying to dress nicely for him? He wasn’t marrying you for your looks - it shouldn’t matter. Right? Against your better judgement, you peel off your scrubs and carefully pull on a pair of thick black tights, adding a pair of leg warmers to protect your bandages from your walking boot. The black oversized sweater dress you toss over your head is one of the few dresses you own that you actually wear. Your phone buzzes on the bench next to you and you nearly drop your lipstick.

Sylus 𝘐’𝘮 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵, 𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘱 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦?

Me 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥.

You stuff your scrubs in your backpack and pull on your denim jacket. The walk to the front entrance from the locker room wasn’t far, but you hoped you wouldn’t run into anyone who cared enough to ask why you were so “dressed up.”

The gust of cold air that hits you when you open the door makes your eyes water. Winter is fast approaching and you’ve barely had time to enjoy it. You even missed the first snow of the season thanks to an MCI that kept you in the operating room nearly 12 hours past the end of your shift. But it’s fitting, you getting married during the winter. 

When you don’t see Sylus’s bike in the parking lot you stare at your phone, your finger hovering over the call button. Before you get a chance, he calls you.

“I’m not on my bike.”

“Oh, wait why?”

“I didn’t think you’d be too comfortable on a bike with that boot on your leg. I’m pulling up now.”

The call disconnects and you look up to see a blacked out Escalade pull up to the curb. The driver's door opens and you see the top of his head over the roof of the car, his hair nearly glowing under the fluorescent lights lining the entrance. He rounds the car and approaches the passenger side, opening the door for you. As you approach you notice there’s something different about him, and then you catch it, the sparkle of steel.

His ears are lined with various studs and small hoops, an industrial bar crossing the top of his left ear. A small septum hoop hangs above his lip, which holds two piercings of their own. Two silver studs sit on the outer edges of his lower lip. He raises a brow, bringing your attention to the piercing there as well. You can feel your mouth run dry.

“Is there something on my face?”

You roll your eyes to match his teasing tone. 

“I just didn’t realize you had piercings…”

“I take them out when I’m racing, more comfortable. Now, after you…”

He motions towards the car and extends his hand for you. Accepting his help, you step up to the car. He places a hand on your waist and guides you onto the seat, bending to lift your bad leg into the car. He closes your door and returns to the driver’s side. Ignoring your pounding heart, you buckle yourself in. 

“So where would you like to go?”

Sylus turns on the heat and you feel your legs warm. Heated seats? In a custom Escalade? Jesus. Suggesting a cheap burger feels out of the question.

“Uhh… well I don’t know what you like.”

“I’m not picky.”

“Well, maybe…”

You’ve only been to a handful of fancy restaurants in Linkon. And always as a result of a work related event: an employee appreciation dinner, the first year residency celebration and a Christmas banquet. Only one name comes to you and you pray you can remember what you ordered. 

“The Linkon Grille?”

Sylus nods and pulls away from the hospital entrance. As he drives, you take this opportunity to examine him out of the corner of your eye. Sleek black suit pants, a red dress shirt with the collar open to showcase a stack of silver necklaces and his signature leather jacket. You’ve always wanted to ask why he wore a jacket with, what looks like, red and white lightning strikes when it didn’t quite match his alias. 

“Is the lightning intentional?”

You’ve always wanted to ask, you had no intention of ACTUALLY asking, oh god. Sylus smiles.

“Not really. I liked how it looked, so I bought it.”

Might as well keep the conversation going.

“You wear it when racing, does it… relate to Ryūō somehow?”

“No. My helmet has Ryūō artwork, my jacket is just a jacket.”

“Oh…”

Okay, no more attempts at small talk, you suck at it. Thankfully, you arrive at the restaurant before you have to explain your silence. The valet approaches and Sylus hops out to open your door. He helps you out and hands the keys to the young man. 

“Shit… I’m not sure if this place requires reservations…”

“How many times have you been here?”

You stare at the ground as you walk. Sylus laughs, but doesn’t stop. He opens the door for you and rests his hand on your lower back to guide you inside. 

The interior was outrageously ornate - dark wood, armchairs instead of dining chairs, waiters wearing gloves carrying boxes of cigars to each table. You’re out of your depth here.

Sylus approaches the hostess and you don’t miss how she gives you both a once over and scowls before speaking. 

“Hello! Do you have a reservation?”

You stare at your feet to hide your embarrassment. 

“It’ll be under Ony.” 

You look up at him to find him smiling from ear to ear. The hostess pauses for a moment before looking at her book. Her expression changes to sheer terror a moment later and her entire demeanor changes. 

“Oh, Mr. Sylus! I apologize, I didn’t recognize you! Would you like your regular table?”

“That’s fine. Shall we?”

He extends his arm and you hook your hand around it. You follow the hostess to a private table at the back of the restaurant. Sylus helps you out of your coat and pulls your chair out for you. He hands your coats to the hostess who apologizes once again before rushing through a nearby door. A minute later a man in a three piece suit arrives with a bottle of wine.

“Mr. Sylus, I do apologize for Regina. Please accept this Pinot, free of charge.” 

Sylus takes the bottle and traces his finger over the label. He smirks and hands the bottle to the man with a nod. He opens the bottle and pours two glasses. 

“Just let me know when you’re ready to order and I’ll make sure Osvaldo prepares it personally.”

He sets down the bottle and bows before taking his leave. Sylus chuckles and you realize you’re completely zoned out, just staring at the bottle of wine.

“Maybe I should have mentioned I am an investor at this location.”

You pick up your glass and down the wine in one go, grabbing the bottle for a refill without hesitation. Sylus picks up his glass, twirling the stem between his fingers before taking a sip. 

“I’ve been here once. I have no idea what to order and oh my god, this wine is expensive!”

You look at the label and recognize the brand. Just one bottle would set you back two months rent. You set the bottle down and push your glass away. Sylus leans forward and fills your glass himself.

“Please, indulge.”

“I can’t… I can’t afford this.”

“Sweetie… When you’re with me, you’ll pay for nothing. That’s part of our business arrangement.”

“Since when?”

“Right now. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think you’re a caviar and oyster girl.”

You wince, your last experience with oysters had not ended well. You shake your head. 

“How about I order for you? If you don’t like it, I’ll order something new until you find something you like.”

Your cheeks warm, surely it’s just the alcohol. You nod. 

“Benji, we’re ready.”

You look around, wondering who he is talking to and gasp when you turn around and see the man who brought the wine appear out of thin air. Sylus swirls the wine in his glass and keeps his eyes locked on you while he orders.

“We’ll both have the lamb chops over lobster mash with honey glazed carrots. And tell Osvaldo to make some fresh espresso, we’ll be having tiramisu for dessert.”

The man nods and rushes away. Just the thought of tiramisu makes your mouth water. You pick up your glass and take a small sip, taking a moment to savor it this time. 

“So… tomorrow…”

Sylus smiles, he’s clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. 

“Yes, tomorrow. Paperwork at noon, reception at 5. Do you have any questions you’d like to ask?”

“Yes… a ton actually… uh…”

“We have all night, sweetie. Take your time.”

You forgo your tiny sips and down the rest of your second glass. You reach for the bottle to refill while considering which question you want to ask first. 

“The reception, where will it be held?”

“I own a club along the border to the zone.”

“A club?”

“Paradise.”

“You own Paradise?!”

“Is it really that shocking?”

“No, I just… I’ve heard about it from my colleagues and it’s… impressive.”

“I take it you’ve never been?”

You take another sip of wine, your body slowly relaxing as the buzz from the alcohol settles in.

“I don’t really go to clubs, or parties for that matter. My weekends are for sleeping and studying.”

“You and Zayne are very similar then.”

“Aha… yeah, now you’ll say I copied my big brother in becoming a doctor, right?”

Sylus frowns, he taps his wine glass.

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

You clear your throat and stare at your wine glass, wondering if you’ll be officially drunk if you chug this third glass. 

“Is that what most people say? That you copied your brother?”

You nod and place your glass on the table, forcing yourself to make eye contact with your future husband. 

“I skipped the same grades, went to the same medical school, was offered the same residency at Akso, where he works. I mean, we even have the same evol. It’s like I’m a carbon copy.”

“I disagree. You don’t look like him, that’s one difference.”

“I used to, when I was a kid. People thought we were twins.”

“Is that why you changed your hair?”

You tuck a strand of your ivory locks behind your ear, subconsciously twirling the end over and over.

“I… didn’t…”

His brows drew together and you chuckled. 

“I have pernicious anemia. Basically, my body doesn’t produce the protein needed to absorb B12. Usually, the lack of B12 would cause hair loss, but in some rare cases it can cause premature graying. My hair started turning white when I was 10, but I had been dealing with symptoms for a year before that. I missed a lot of school because I couldn’t stay awake and I’d faint from dizzy spells. I was in the hospital for almost a month between figuring out what was wrong with me and then trying to get stabilized enough to go home. My hair has been white ever since.”

Sylus nods, his expression turning somber.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, it’s okay! I mean, that time in the hospital is what made me want to become a doctor. My parents are both doctors, so I spent a lot of time in hospitals anyway, but as a patient I got to see the other side. I was like a puzzle. Watching everyone trying to figure it out was fascinating.”

“Are you okay now?”

“Oh yeah, I take vitamins and get B12 shots when I need to. It’s completely manageable. Just a horror show when you’re a kid, you know?”

He nods, but he doesn’t look up from his glass. You spot Benji rounding the corner and start to clap, making Sylus jump. He smiles as he watches you bounce in your seat as the food arrives. You almost whine when he pulls the wine bottle to his side of the table to keep you from grabbing it.

The tender lamb sits on a bed of lobster mashed potatoes, the honey glazed carrots perched on top with a healthy sprinkle of decorative herbs. The lamb is perfectly cooked, falling off the bone to swim in the savory potatoes. You can barely contain yourself, sighing loudly as you devour your meal.

“Oh… I like carrots!”

“That’s… great.”

Sylus sits back to watch you as you lift a carrot on your fork to look at it.

“Zayne doesn’t like them, I do, that’s another difference!”

He smiles, finally understanding your outburst. 

“So I explained my hair, what about yours?”

Sylus runs a hand through his hair. He leans forward, resting his elbow on the table and his chin on his fist.

“What about it sweetie?”

“Why is it silver? And white? Silvery white. You’re too young for it to be natural.”

“My job is pretty stressful, it could be.”

You shake your head and squint at him.

“No, no. I can tell.”

“Well, I don’t know, if I’m honest. It’s been like this for as long as I can remember.”

“What about your parents? Will they be there tomorrow?”

Sylus’s smile falters and he looks down at his plate, lining the carrots up in a row with his fork. 

“My parents are… gone. It’ll just be me and the twins tomorrow.”

“Twins! Oh… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean… uhh… wh-who are the twins?”

His gaze softens and he lifts a finger. You look over his shoulder to see Benji rush into the kitchen.

“Luke and Kieran. They work for me. They’ve become… like family, in a sense.”

“I look forward to meeting them.”

Benji reappears and sets two plates of tiramisu on the table.

“I can make a to-go box if you like ma’am?” 

“Oh that would be lovely, thank you!”

He takes your plate and Sylus’s and disappears through the door once again. You reach for the plate closest to you, but Sylus pulls it away. You look up to glare at him.

“I thought we could practice for the cake cutting ceremony.” 

“Oh! Uhm… okay… wait, there’s gonna be cake?”

“Of course. Chocolate with white icing and red roses. I thought it best to keep it classic. Unless you want something different?”

“That… that sounds beautiful. I… I honestly never thought about what kind of cake I would want. I never thought I’d get married.”

“Really? Why not?”

“Just… never thought about it. My career has always been my focus.”

Sylus places a plate between you and holds out a knife.

“Well, I hope you enjoy what I have planned for tomorrow regardless.”

You reach out and wrap your hand around his. You both guide the knife through the soft layers. You let go and pick up a dessert fork, watching him pick up a forkful first. You scoop up a bite and lean forward. Sylus moves the plate out of the way and extends his arm towards you. You carefully take the fork into your mouth while feeding Sylus his serving. The bitter espresso soaked ladyfingers melt on your tongue, the sweet cream so fluffy you could barely keep your eyes open. 

Then you feel the fork in your hand move slightly. You finally break eye contact and look at his mouth, the corner tilting up into a smirk. You can feel his tongue circle the utensil, making sure every ounce of the delicious dessert is consumed. Your heart pounds in your chest and you lean back until the fork slips out of your mouth. He does the same and you stare at him for a moment, unsure what to say or do.

“You’ve got a little…”

He leans forward again and brushes his thumb over the corner of your mouth. You freeze, almost afraid he’ll feel how hot your skin is, or how your entire body is pulsing with your heart beat. He pulls his hand back to reveal a bit of cream on his thumb. You open your mouth to thank him, but you’re rendered speechless as he sticks his thumb in his mouth to suck the cream off. 

“I think that went well, we just have to do it in front of a crowd tomorrow.”

You sit in silence, staring at his mouth. He tucks his bottom lip between his teeth and you watch the silver studs rotate slowly. He’s definitely aware you’re staring and doesn’t seem to give a fuck. He releases his lip and extends his hand to gently take hold of your chin. He tilts your head up until you meet his eyes.

“You think you can handle that, sweetie?”

You blink rapidly, trying to pull yourself out of your drunken, horny haze to reply.

“Yeah… yes. For sure.”

“I think you may have had too much to drink.”

You try to shake your head, but his fingers holding your chin keep you still.

“How about I get us a room? I don’t think I should drive.”

Your bleary eyes clear slightly and you sit back, pulling your chin from his grasp.

“You barely drank!”

“I have a relatively low tolerance. Buzzed-driving is still drunk-driving, you know.”

Benji approaches the table with your to-go box and gives Sylus a pat on the shoulder.

“Osvaldo is thrilled you ordered the tiramisu, he sends his thanks. Is there anything else I can do for you two tonight?”

“Yes, can you prepare my usual room and –”

Before Sylus can finish you wave your hands, attracting both Benji and Sylus’s attention. 

“I… we are not… I’m not getting a room with you, I don’t… we shouldn’t…”

Sylus looks at Benji with a knowing smile.

“If you could replace the twins beds with a queen, I doubt she’d be very comfortable on a single.”

Your eyes widen as you slowly realize your mistake. You sit back in your chair and fold the napkin on your lap into a tiny square. You hear Benji’s footsteps fade and Sylus clear his throat. 

“Sweetie? Did you not realize this restaurant is part of a hotel?”

You shake your head without looking up.

“I have a suite on stand by with a separate room for the twins when we stay here. I wasn’t going to force you to sleep with me.”

You quickly look up at him, embarrassed and unsure.

“No, I didn’t think… I… I’m not a prude I just…”

“I don’t expect anything from you. And I will never force anything on you. I want that to be perfectly clear. You never need to worry about that when you’re with me.”

Your throat stings as you try to keep yourself from crying. Damn, you’re emotional when you’re drunk. You grab your glass and down the rest of your wine, wincing at it burns the back of your throat. Sylus' smile returns.

“What about tomorrow?”

Sylus stands and extends a hand to you. After a moment of consideration, you take it. He helps you stand and places a hand at your waist to steady you. He walks slowly, making sure you don’t trip over your boot. 

“I’ll wake you up with plenty of time to get ready. Don’t worry.”

He ushers you into the elevator and presses the penthouse button, of course it’s the penthouse. You roll your eyes and a wave of dizziness hits you. Sylus leans back against the wall and you lean with him, your back resting against his chest. 

“I had your leftovers sent to the minibar, if you wake up and want a midnight snack. There’s also spare clothes in the wardrobe if you’d like to sleep in something more comfortable. Just call the front desk if you need anything else.”

You look over your shoulder at him and melt under his heated gaze. You find yourself staring at his lips again. Would it be uncomfortable to kiss with those piercings? Or would it feel… thrilling? The ideal mix of hot and cold with his tongue in your mouth and the cold steel on your lip. You rest your head back on his chest and sigh, you just want a taste… one… little… taste…

Ding

The elevator reaches its destination and silently swear, you had almost worked up the courage to close the distance. Sylus takes a step forward, forcing you through the door into the large penthouse entryway. 

He guides you through the suite, pointing out the kitchen, the living room, the laundry closet and the door to the balcony. He stops in front of a set of doors and slides them open to reveal a small hallway. He points to the room on the right.

“That’s my room, if you need anything just knock.”

He opens the door on the left to reveal your room for the night. Sure enough, a queen bed was delivered and made up with a luxurious comforter and nearly a dozen pillows. He leads you inside and opens the door to the bathroom, a clawfoot tub catches your attention. If it wasn’t for this damn boot and stitches, you’d soak in that tub for an hour. 

“Make yourself at home. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He lets go of your hand and waist and you instantly miss his warmth. You watch him leave, disappearing behind the door to his room across from yours. You hurry across the room to close the door and lock it. You’re flinging your sweater dress over your head onto a nearby chair and kicking your shoes off, using only a tiny bit more caution with your injured leg. Your tights follow and then your underwear. 

You lay back on the bed and shiver as the silky blankets cool your bare skin. You pull the blanket to the side and slide under, propping your feet up to keep your legs spread. Your body moves on instinct, your mind is too fuzzy and filled with the filthiest images, you need to release the tension, now. 

Your fingers slide down your naked body, pausing over your chest to roll your perky nipples between your fingers. One hand slides further, dipping between your folds and spreading yourself open. You shiver at the thought of Sylus’s fingers replacing yours. Those long fingers tracing your clit and sliding into your pussy with ease. You close your eyes as your fingers start to work your clit with urgency. His thumb wiping that cream off of your mouth, fuck, you wish you had grabbed his wrist and pulled him to you. To watch him stare at you with those hungry crimson eyes as you close your lips around his thumb and suck. You lift your other hand to your face and stick your thumb in your mouth, imagining it’s Sylus’s. 

Your fingers dip into your throbbing pussy, which almost immediately sucks them in deeper. You pump in and out, rubbing against your clit with the palm of your hand. A strangled whimper escapes your throat as your tongue circles around your thumb. You’re so close, and you’ve only been at it for a minute. You imagine his lip rings brushing against your nipples as he kisses down your chest. Does he have piercings anywhere else? What if he does, what would they feel like? You bite your thumb as you come undone. 

You lay there, sweating and sticky, letting your mind wander. You haven’t been attracted to someone for a long time. You’ve never let yourself get into a serious relationship. One night stands in college? A fuck buddy in medical school? Sure. But a relationship? Someone you see and talk to everyday? And yet, here you are, getting off to the guy you’re going to marry after knowing him for a week. What are you getting yourself into?

You went to sleep later than you intended, you wanted to wash your bedding - no way you’re letting the hotel staff find your mess and it somehow gets back to Sylus. You also took the time to shower and wash your hair. You were planning on doing a full body shower at home to prepare for the wedding, but the bathroom here had everything you needed. 

When you finally fell asleep your dreams were full of Sylus. He wore a fitted tuxedo, his hair slicked back, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You saw yourself in the mirror, a gorgeous white wedding dress, lace, tulle, the works. He handed you the flowers and adjusted your veil, twirling his fingers through your curls. Black and red roses lined the aisle of the church. Rubies hung from the ceiling, shimmering in the sunlight to cast intricate patterns on the walls. His voice calls out your name and the world stops spinning, it’s just the two of you. He holds your waist and you press yourself against him. 

A series of knocks at your door bring you back to reality. You quickly get out of bed and wrap a plush white robe around you. Hobbling over to the door, you unlock it and open it a crack. To your surprise, it’s not Sylus.

“Hello Miss. I’m Veronica. Mr. Sylus wanted me to deliver these dresses. Tanya is here with your breakfast as well.”

You look over your shoulder at the clock on the wall, 7 am, you have plenty of time to go to your apartment and get the outfit you originally planned to wear. But you’re curious, what did Sylus get for you? You open the door and let the women in. Veronica wheels in a clothing rack, setting up in the corner next to the bathroom. She unzips each garment bag and pulls the dress out so you can see it fully. You sit on the bed and stare at the spectacle unraveling before you. The dresses, a small table unfolded and covered in plates of food. Tanya smiles at you every chance she gets and you try your best to return the pleasantries. 

“I brought you a variety, you can pick and choose. Quiche, french toast, crepes, a fruit platter, coffee, juice - if there’s anything else you want, please just call the front desk. I’ll bring it right away!”

Tanya gives you one last smile, her eyes full of tears. She hurries out of the room and closes the door. Veronica laughs.

“Sorry about Tanya, she’s always wanted Sylus to get married, she treats him like a son. She’s a little emotional today.”

She picks up a bag off the bottom of the rack and pulls out a large makeup bag and curling iron. 

You glance over at the makeshift vanity she’s setting up and quickly put down your glass of juice. You rush over to her before she can unload any more equipment. 

“Wait, wait… Sylus, he… uhm…?”

Veronica places her delicate hands on your shoulders.

“Sylus hired me to help you get ready. He told me you might not want any help, but to offer it just in case. If you already have a dress, I can send someone to pick it up. Or you can choose one of these. They should all match the measurements I was given.”

You look over at the dresses then back at Veronica.

“Wait, how’d you get my measurements?”

Veronica smiles, her eyes sparkling.

“Sylus has a knack for that kind of thing.”

You wrap your arms around your waist and look around the room, trying to balance on your good leg. Veronica continues setting up her station and gives you space to think. You glance over at the clothing rack and decide looking can’t hurt. Up close, the dresses are divine - silk, chiffon, organza, lace, anything you can imagine. 

“Feel free to try them on. Sylus asked for long dresses, but I can pin them up if they’re too long.”

You smile to yourself. Long dresses to hide the boot. He really thought of everything it seems. 

You look through the dresses and find one that you love. While you can’t imagine yourself wearing it you decide to try it on. You take the dress into the bathroom and slip your panties on. Suddenly very thankful you decided to wash your intimates after the bedding was finished. You carefully drape the dress over your head and try to zip it up. When you’re finally done criticizing your short arms you open the bathroom door to seek Veronica’s help. 

“Hey Veronica, do you think you could –”

You stop short when you realize Sylus is sitting at the breakfast table Tanya set up. His eyes light up when he looks at the dress you’re wearing and the butterflies in your stomach swirl once again. Veronica comes up behind you and zips your dress closed and ties a bow to secure the halter neck. She holds your arm and leads you to the full length mirror, which is right next to the breakfast table. 

“You were right, this one does look spectacular on her.”

Veronica steps aside and you finally see your reflection. You’ve spent years laughing at those bridal shows and rolling your eyes at brides who cry over their weddings, but now you feel a little guilty for the mockery. 

The soft white silk feels heavenly against your skin, the halter neckline is flattering to both your chest and shoulders. You turn to look at the back and smile as you spot your tattoo framed within the open back design. The dress is the perfect length, hovering off the floor so you don’t trip, but long enough to cover your unsightly boot. It’s not fancy or frilly, it’s no ball gown, but it makes you feel like a bride, even if it is just for a courthouse wedding. 

“Do you like it?”

You run your hands down the front of the dress and sway, watching the mermaid base swish around your ankles. Sylus steps up behind you, his clothes from the previous night slightly wrinkled. You look at him through the mirror and he smiles, his eyes dropping to your back. You feel the ends of the bow shift away from your skin.

“It’s beautiful.”

You feel your cheeks flush and when you check in the mirror, sure enough, your cheeks are nice and rosy. You clear your throat and put your hands on your hips, feeling the fabric stretch over your curves.

“It’s a snow leopard, right?”

You nod, your smile widening. 

“Yeah! It took me years to find the right hyperrealism artist and then I was hung up on what color blue I wanted for the background. Three six hour sessions later, I have my spirit animal with me forever.”

“Your spirit animal?”

You cross your arms and glare at him.

“Do I not give off vicious snow leopard vibes?”

He laughs, that same carefree laugh that makes your heart skip. He steps closer to you, his hands moving to rest on your shoulders. 

“I’m not sure yet. What I do know is you look like an angel right now.”

You scoff, your bedhead and bare face could hardly be considered angelic. His hands squeeze your shoulders.

“I mean it. You look incredible.”

Your eyes stay locked on him as he circles around you. He stands before you, his hands sliding down your arms to hold your hands. 

“This might be a business arrangement, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t feel like a bride on your wedding day. And you’re certainly…”

He lifts one of your hands to his mouth and places a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

“... the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

You let out the most outrageous giggle, your hands instantly moving to cover your face in embarrassment. Sylus grabs your hands and stops you, so you quickly change the subject.

“Isn’t it bad luck for the groom to see the bride on their wedding day?”

He rubs his thumbs over your fingers, slowing down when he reaches your ring finger.

“Well, we’re hardly doing things the traditional way. But… I will leave if you want me to.”

He lets go of your hands and you reach out for him, grabbing his wrist.

“No… stay.”

Now it’s his turn to blush, his ears turn the lightest shade of pink and you silently celebrate not being the only one flustered in this encounter. He sits down at the breakfast table and puts a quiche on his plate.

“You should try on the reception dresses I picked out, so V can make alterations this afternoon.”

You look over at Sylus and then to Veronica, who casually walks out the door into the hallway.

“Reception dress?”

Veronica rolls another clothing rack inside and starts unzipping the garment bags. Compared to your wedding dress, these are… bold. Red velvet, purple lace, black silk. Long skirts, once again, to hide your boot, but a variety of necklines and cut-outs. Your wedding dress was intended to be classy and subtle, these… These are sexy. 

“Sylus… I… these are…”

“All going to look incredible on you.”

You stare at him for a moment. Is this your life now? Designer dresses, penthouse suites, making grand appearances at his club while holding onto his arm? Not that you’re complaining, but compared to the life you expected… you're…

“Overwhelmed?”

Sylus’s voice cuts through the noise. His eyes shine as if they’re burrowing into your soul and you don’t look away.

“My world is complicated, sometimes messy. I’m sure being a doctor is like that as well.”

You nod, your fingers mindlessly tracing the lace pattern on the dress in front of you.

“What do you do when you’re overwhelmed in the operating room?”

“I… imagine I’m floating. On a cloud, just… blue sky, sunshine, a soft cloud under my feet. Everything is quiet, clear… peaceful. I just float.”

“Okay, then for today, let’s float together. No expectations, no danger, just… float.”

You turn back to the dresses in front of you and take a breath. You look at the dress you’ve been holding, a red velvet off-the-shoulder number with a black lace corset and lace gloves. If you’re going to step into this new world, you might as well step into it looking fucking hot.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora @crowskitten22 @letharue @silverbrain @alastor-simp @drama-trauma @0tterteeth @mysticcollectionvoid @godzillaglitter @m00nchildwrites @plsdonttakemyname @hauntedbysmut @withering-dream @lostwingz2236 @simpfortheseven @spacegroteske @namjoonseuphoria @celestialforce @rafshottestgf @oxamarok @withering-dream @zaynessbeloved @animecrazy76 @yournextdoorhousewitch @addiglessthanthree @4ttack-ur-heart @moonberry69 @pandoras-rabbit @cookiesaresquishy @hamnaalien @needlewandandthimble @brekkers-whore @goddexxluv @satansdaughter123 @poisonf0rest @darkalleycat1987 @morrigan87 @never-justforever @ericherries @lev-berryz @aishasylus

(If you're tagged, you were on the Inked Taglist. If you'd like to be removed, just message me!)

Also, for funsies, this is what Sylus looks like in this fic. (The one on the right I made in Canva it's rough lol)

[howi99]

King of Teachers Au: Did Jaune get different advice from his parents on how to ask someone out?

He did, actually and not only his parents, but his cousins and sisters too.

Jeanne: *hugging her "big" bro* Don't worry Jaune, i'm sure someone will want to marry you!

Jaune: ... *Sigh* I know you are trying to encourage me, but that kinda came out as if you thought i had no chance in the first place.

Mordred: *sharpening her sword* I mean, no offense but you're kind of the runt of the family-

Jaune: *deadpan* Big word coming from the mouth of the eternal bachelor of the family.

Mordred: WHAT WAS THAT, PUNK?!

Jaune: *crossing his arms* I mean, when's the last time you brought ANYONE home? ... *Pensive* Wait, actually... Did you ever bring anyone home?

Jeanne: Same, i don't even remember her bringing a friend over-

Mordred: *Blushing from embarrassment* HEY! STOP HITTING ME WHERE IT HURTS THE MOST!!! *Pouting* Not my fault if everyone's too weak to play with me...

_ _ _

Artoria: Dating advice? *Point at herself* From me?

Jaune: *deadpan* You honestly think dad has better advice?

Artoria: Touché. *pensive* Well... Girls love guys who can cook, protect them, cook, are good with kids, cook, can fix stuff-

Jaune: *rolling his eyes* You are describing dad!

Artoria: *smile* And you! *Shuffle, Blushing slightly* By the way, could you-

Jaune: Dinner is in two hours! You'll wait like everyone else!

Artoria: Darn it!

_ _ _

Jaune: *sigh, looking up at the sky* Why is everyone in my family bad at dating?

Gareth: ... *Goes to speak*

Jaune: *not even looking at her* You tried dating your teacher; you are probably the worst example to follow.

Gareth: *Crimson from embarrassment* ... I didn't try dating Lancelot... And he's already married...

_ _ _

Jaune: *fishing with Merlin* Is it a curse? Or simply genetic?

Merlin: You are asking me, a man who has stayed single for millennia, for dating advice. *Chuckle* Honestly? Probably just a little bit of idiocy.

Jaune: *reeling up a brook trout from the river* That's fair.

Merlin: *reeling back a boot* Really? Again?

Jaune: *shrug* Add it to the pile; one day we'll have a pair.

_ _ _

Gilgamesh: *flower in hands* Behold how a true king court a woman-

Jaune: *unimpressed* You got rejected by my mom in three different timelines and that's without taking into account fate Zero; you have NO right to give me dating advice.

Gilgamesh: *frown* You insolent mongrel! Be glad that i, Gilgamesh-

Jaune: ... *Turning towards the house* Ma! Gilgamesh isn't respecting the restraining order!

Artoria: *slowly leaving the house, her lance in hand, a murderous light in her eyes*

Gilgamesh: *gulp* -will leave you alone for today! *Start running*

Artoria: *running after him* COME BACK HERE, YOU FUCKTWAT! I'LL RIP YOUR DICK OFF AND SEND IT TO YOUR BOYFRIEND AS AN APOLOGY!

Gilgamesh: *in the distance* WHY CAN'T I USE GATES OF BABYLON IN THIS WORLD!? IT'S UNFAIR!!!

Artoria: *activating her "Semblance"* Oh holy spear, removing anchor... Thrust and feast! Thirteen fangs! RHONGOMYNIAD!!!

Gilgamesh: *scream*

Jaune: ... *Look at the bushes* You know i can see the camera sticking out, right?

Medea: *hiding in said bushes* ... Please don't out me, i can't run as fast as him.

Jaune: ... Have any dating advice?

Medea: ... Don't fall for an asshole that will betray you?

Jaune: *sigh* Best advice yet... *Point to a tree* Go there; it's technically far enough from the property so that your restraining order doesn't become a problem, while also giving you a better angle for the kitchen.

Medea: But... That's where she's staying most of the time! Why?!

Jaune: A gift, for being the most useful today... *Frown* And to piss off that guy.

[pink-nightmare-lab]

✨🦇General!Lilia Vanrouge one-shot🦇✨

Summary: reader is a diurnal* fae and is curious about the nocturnal fae so she goes to their territory to satisfy her curiosity

*Diurnal: basically the opposite of nocturnal, in other words, most active during the day

Other info: reader is female and a faerie🦋

Side note: might turn this into a fully fledged fanfiction with multiple chapters, also, I don't know the word count but it's long

Also, everything is purely made up, I took some inspo from the Tinkerbell movies and used my own imagination, so yeah, nothing canon here but HOLY MOLY, it took me so long to finish this

You live in a beautiful village surrounded by big trees where fae of all kinds flutter by or walk, going on about their day while the warm sun shines through the trees and illuminating the village in a golden glow, flowers blooming in every corner and magic flowing through the cores of the trees protecting the village.

You were a diurnal fae, to be exact, a butterfly faerie, wings as soft as silk and delicate like the wings of the small butterflies fluttering by, there was nothing better than to fly around and feel the breeze caress your skin like a gentle kiss.

It was widely known that faeries have conflicts with humans for centuries now but even amongst faerie kind, conflicts exist too, for one, nocturnal and diurnal faerie don't seem to get along too well and usually stay out of each other's skin just to avoid unpleasantries.

Yet no matter how often the others warned you and told you all sorts of stories, you always wanted to see the nocturnal fae up close out of sheer curiosity, after all, what if they aren't as bad as everyone says they are?

It's dawn when you slowly arise from your slumber, stretching and letting your wings flutter before getting out of bed, the village slowly coming to life to proceed with their daily tasks.

Today or rather tonight will be different, tonight you're venturing outside the territory of the diurnal faeries and into the lands of the nocturnal fae, yearning to learn more about them since books don't cover much about them.

You put on a beautiful floral dress and your hair up so it won't bother you for today's flower caretaking amongst other butterfly faeries in the nearby meadow.

You flutter towards your closet and grab a dark brown cloak and stuff it into a bag for later, after all, nobody should see it's you and with those big wings of yours that resemble those of a monarch butterfly, they'd stick out like a sore thumb, especially in the dark forest of the nocturnal fae territory, big bright orange wings would certainly be an unusual sight over there.

Once you're ready, you flutter towards the meadow, some already there and tending to the moon flowers, preparing them for an upcoming festival, pollinating them with a special pollen and making sure no illness befell at least one of them.

While you scatter the pollen on the flowers, you carefully observe the guards, ever so often hiding beneath the big flowers to take a better glimpse at them, listening in and trying to memorise their patrolling pattern, technically, it wasn't forbidden to leave the village at night but when your reasoning is to visit the nocturnal fae and try to become friendly, well, that's another story.

When it finally becomes evening, it's time to get ready, you put on a cloak and wait around a certain area around one of the exits for guards to walk past and go towards another area to patrol.

It's your cue to leave and you quickly do so, not the fastest by foot but it worked, you only hope that nobody saw you else you'd be in trouble and then the mayor would be upset and then the ministers when they heard one of their subjects decided to dare to go to the nocturnal faeries.

You take off the cloak once you're a good bit away from the village, you decide to flutter towards the edge of the forest for the rest of this small trip till you reach the edge of the forest, staring into the other side, it looks much darker and dangerous yet it's no time to go back now after planning for so long for this adventure of yours.

From what you've heard, nocturnal faeries are rather "scary" looking, sharp fangs, horns, scales and just overall roughness, that they're pretty mean although that's debatable since you've met plenty of mean diurnal faeries in your life but oh well, those were just rumours, you don't know what exactly to expect but at least it's one step closer to get friendly with them.

Aside from curiosity, you had another reason for this trip...

A while back, you overheard guards whispering amongst themselves, the trees surrounding the village are growing weaker and need a special kind of pollen to restore their strength but their problem was that the remedy lied within the territory of the nocturnal faeries and they're oh so stubborn to ask for help in that regard, instead, they tasked scholars to find an alternative solution.

If those trees die, everything around them does as well, your village is highly dependent on that but most importantly, the moon flowers on the meadow are of highest concern but what makes them special is that they have healing properties and that they bloom the strongest on the third full moon during the festival, without it, aiding the injured would take longer and finding a healer might end up being too late.

To you, the answer was obvious, to negotiate with the nocturnal faeries, asking for help and offering something in return, it couldn't be that bad... but then again, you've never met an actual nocturnal fae.

As night grows closer, you put on the cloak, trying to blend in, the forest seems so much darker compared to the ones in your territory, the tree leafs rustle in the wind and the owls sing their songs, it's hard to see without a light but if you lit up a light it could alarm the wrong type of creatures, so instead, you depend on the moonlight to guide you.

After walking for an hour, you spot a distant light emitted from a campfire but then you also heard... screeching and growling? you're not sure if you're hearing dangerous creatures or actual nocturnal faeries after all but nonetheless, it's an opportunity to see them up close.

You lower yourself and walk along the bushes to try to get closer till you're close enough to peek through the bushes and see what you've found.

Your eyes widen at the sight, real nocturnal faeries! But from the looks of it, soldiers.

Their masks are put aside and they're resting and talking, you hold in a gasp at the sight, such sharp fangs, piercing eyes with a slit shaped pupils, longer pointy ears and as you've heard, some indeed have scales and horns, the rumours about them looking more rough and predatory certainly wasn't a lie and yet... there was something ethereal about them.

To your confirmation, that growling and screeching is indeed just them talking, such an odd yet curious language, you thought.

You decide to stay hidden and keep observing, clearly, it's very important! You were just about to take out your journal but then you remember just how good of a hearing they have so perhaps alarming them wouldn't be so smart, writing can wait but... if their hearing is that good, what if they already are aware of your presence? No, that can't be, else they would've already noticed by now.

You have a clear goal in mind, observe, plan and negotiate (hopefully), after all, finding the remedy yourself and just taking it would be thievery, so you can't do that, you'd be punished and you aren't exactly fond of that.

You spot a fae much smaller and slimmer than the rest, his skin was a beautiful shade of pale, he had sharp fangs like the rest but his red piercing eyes truly captured your interest, his long hair flowing in the gentle night breeze.

Judging from the way the others interact with him, he seems to be someone highly important but it was difficult to really tell if they'd listen to reason were you to actually approach them, you could make nothing of their screeching.

They truly sounded and looked so different from the faeries you're surrounded by all the time yet you couldn't help but look at them in awe, you want to know more about them and get to know their lives and everything else.

Now stuck in a dilemma, you're sure that approaching them head on wouldn't be the smartest idea, they'd probably just shoo you back to your home but you somehow need to at least befriend one of them.

After some more observing, you internally sigh, it's no use to keep watching them so you slowly back away and try to get away without getting noticed.

Once you successfully get away, you continue to walk deeper into the woods in hopes of spotting the sister tree of the ones surrounding your village but that advantage is cut short very quickly.

One step and suddenly a rope snatches your ankle and pulls you up, dangling you upside down.

You did not expect this whatsoever and now you're stuck hanging upside down, also having made quite the noise with the amount of leaf rustling due to the trap.

Your hair is a mess, the skirt of your dress hanging down, revealing the shorts beneath them, your bag fell down alongside your cloak, letting you wings free and making you less hidden.

You curse inside, trying to figure out what to do now while you meekly tried reaching for the rope holding your leg, your wings flutter in frustration.

"first you're snooping around and now you're stuck dangling like freshly caught prey, I must say... I've never seen your kind venturing into our territory, alone nonetheless" a deep voice from behind suddenly speaks up.

You freeze, unable to look behind you but you can tell that it must be one of the soldiers you saw earlier.

"Such beautiful wings, diurnal faeries truly live up to their names, you look like a soft delicate flower, like something that doesn't belong here"

You feel a hand gently caressing your wing, you gasp and slap him with your wing, it was gentle and didn't harm him but it was enough to startle him and to tell him to stop.

After a moment of silence, he's in front of you and you're met with those piercing red eyes again that you saw earlier, he looks like he's thinking with a stern face.

"Tell me, who are you and what are you doing here?" he asks sternly, leaving no room to back away.

"I'm just here for help, I need something that can only be acquired here!" you say after composing yourself.

"and pray tell what it is you're looking for? Not often does your kind come here, nonetheless all alone like yourself, a bit naive if you ask me" he replied unimpressed.

You huff "I came here with a purpose, thank you very much..." you reply back a little sassy.

He keeps looking at you sternly, letting you know he won't help you if you don't tell your intentions first, very clearly as well.

"Okay look... my village has these special trees with magic and they're growing weaker... there's a certain type of pollen that can make it strong again but the problem is, the sister tree carrying that pollen grows here, in your forest, nowhere else and those trees are super important to us..." you explain and the sigh, talking while hanging upside sure is exhausting.

He hums and then just looks smug "I see how it is, we have a little thief here"

You gasp frustrated "I'm not stealing! I'm here to negotiate with your kind! I was hoping to talk with any of you, get friendly and well, get the pollen since the higher ups refuse too!"

He looks contemplative before responding "I truly don't know if you're naive or actually brave for coming here but let me be clear, you can't just waltz over here, expecting to simply 'talk it out' with the first faerie you see, not to mention, we aren't on friendly terms"

You look a little defeated but still keep your composure "...at least please let me down?"

He sighs and cuts the rope, making you fall down with a groan, slowly getting up and reaching for you bag and cloak.

He watches you gathering yourself and evening out the skirt of your dress and removing a few leafs from your hair before looking at him.

"Look, in case you didn't realise, we're in the middle of a war with the Silver Owls, we don't have time for something like this, we're busy protecting our lands, including yours, so you better fly back home and stay out of danger, let the higher ups handle it" he replies while looking around, listening to his surroundings.

You look frustrated but quickly keep shut once he looks at you sternly once again.

He sighs and looks less serious "I've been gone long enough from the camp, it won't be long till someone comes looking for me, you're lucky you came across me, you should better hurry back home before anything dangerous can happen, I can't protect you just because you decided to have a little adventure here, I have my duties to attend to"

You put on your cloak and bag but before you can go, the nocturnal fae calls out to you again.

"the name's Lilia Vanrouge, general Lilia Vanrouge, in case we cross paths again, little lady"

Clearly he knows just as well as you, that this won't be the last encounter.

Once you reach your home without alarming the guards, you sigh, sitting down on your bed, thinking about your encounter with Lilia, it was a rocky start but you know you'll have to come back.

Nonetheless, you start writing down on your journal, everything you found out so far, but you must admit, despite their rough and predatory features, they are quite handsome.

You smile and put the journal away, getting ready for bed for another day of planning the next move.

"You're finally back, general, was it a Silver Owl?" Baur asks once he sees Lilia return.

"No, just a lost deer, nothing to worry about" he dismisses, before heading to his tent, the feeling of your wings still lingering on his mind.

[bokettochild]

do u have any downfall duo head cannon? i love the way u write them !

Thank you! It's so kind of you to say!

Hyrule and Legend are both quieter by nature, as neither is accustomed to having companions around. They're still not very comfortable with the other heroes though, so Legend tends to be kinda harsh as a defense mechanism (so that they'll regard him as dangerous, not easy prey) and Hyrule is meanwhile dancing between trying to go unseen and trying to reach out via humor. Both are incredibly awkward.

These boys love music, as a rule. To them, it indicates that all is well, and while Hyrule can't play more than a couple of songs on his flute, he takes great delight in hearing the rest play. Legend, on the other hand, as a former performer, takes great delight in playing for other people. They both like Legend's violin best (or Twilight's music, when he plays, although he has to borrow the vet's violin to do so as he doesn't have one with him)

Both are fabulous dancers. Hyrule doesn't know any real dances, but enjoys the movement, and the feel, and finds watching other people dance together to be quite entrancing.

Barefooters. While boots are needed for safe travel and generally to protect themselves for long distances, if in a safe location (Lon Lon, Ordon, or Orchard Hill) those shoes are off and they are breathing sighs of relief

Despite being an explorer at heart, and Legend being a stick-to-the-map kinda guy, neither of them really enjoy open spaces. Legend prefers dungeons and narrow passages, or cozy rooms/caves, and while Hyrule is better able to handle being out of doors (he loves being out of doors) he prefers places with lots of obstacles/cover around him, and finds open fields and similar such settings to be nerve-wracking (bunny coded and deer coded LOL)

Hyrule finds horses intimidating and Legend is terrified of dogs, in the reverse though, Legend loves horses and Hyrule thinks dogs are the greatest thing since sliced bread. Rule is 100% a dog person, meanwhile Legend actually is Camp Cats with Twilight, although he does have his moments of wariness if they're too big, because he's definitely not forgotten Veran's leopards

While Hyrule is very much not keen on touch, and Legend is when/if he trusts people, they're both very comfortable just sharing space with each other. There's an unspoken sort of understanding that they're the only two who get how dangerous the real world actually is (because their eras are far worse than most others, even if Legend's doesn't technically look it) and they are comfortable just vibing together, working at tasks and keeping close, or listening out for each other in turn so the other can rest/focus on something. Think like how deer will take turns watching for predators while the rest of the herd grazes LOL

The only two (other than Wild) who find eating bugs/tree bark acceptable. They both have massive food insecurities, and are aware that the other does, which makes it really touching if one or the other offers to share or gives the other their extras/the last piece. They do not find it weird to eat whatever they can find that is safely edible, no matter how weird (no, Wild, rocks don't count)

Hyrule naturally is drawn to Legend because of his magic. There's an old study in one of the castle towers that, apparently, used to be the vet's, and it's so steeped in his magic that, after being there enough, he's learned to recognize as a signal of safety and protection, so he ended up getting comfortable around the vet before any of the rest, even though he didn't know why he was doing it

Legend likes to draw, and make maps. He's very artistically minded. Hyrule likes to carve, but he's not very good at making things, much to his embarrassment.

Hyrule is actually the opposite of Legend though, preferring mathematics, and while he doesn't have a formal education, he is teaching himself when and where he can. Sciences are less his interest, but he is good at them. Legend is only good at it when it's applicable to real life though, and usually only with dungeons

Legend's keener on puzzles, Hyrule less so. His dungeons at the beginning of his adventure were all pretty straightforwards, but he's very good at handling the monsters inside. If unleashed on a dungeon with just the two of them, they'd probably end up tag teaming with Legend solving the puzzles while Hyrule watches his back and fights off the monsters so he can.

Legend's fighting style is primarily comprised of wearing his enemy down and darting around them, getting strikes in while he can and avoiding blows. Hyrule's however is more predator like, waiting for the perfect chance to spring the enemy and then bearing down with force until they fall. He's quick too, but likes holding his ground better than he does darting about.

Hyrule gets dizzy easily, and turned around just as easily. Legend's got crazy good balance though and is well tuned to a mental compass.

Between the two of them, Hyrule is definitely the stronger one> he's also taller by an inch or so (and older by a year, although neither of them know that yet)

Their magic types are significantly different. Legend uses primarily channeling magic, making the most of his power by employing items, whereas Hyrule tends to use magic in it's raw state. When they try using the opposite method, Hyrule is more likely to overload the tools used by employing too much force, and Legend burns himself out far too quickly because it takes more effort for him to not have an item's help.

Legend likes reading aloud, Hyrule likes being read too. Do with this what you will

And that's all I got for now! Hope this scratched an itch for you, m'luv!

[d1s1ntegrated]

Fugk shigrli LSOEE LOSER SHIGARAKI PLZ PLS SAVE MEEUGHHHH...can yu do..like THIS SOUNDS CRINGE BUT READER ISEKAI AND THEY R OBSESSD W SHIGARAKI,,, like, they get plopped down into his bar, they explain his lore to him, his fanarts, shiparts ALL OF THAT🙏🎀

Love u munch plz dont die

love u too munch!! hope u enjoy <3

i died violently in a car crash and all i got was this weirdo virgin!

shigaraki x isekai!reader

cw: no use of "y/n" (i used "______" instead!), fem reader, loser shigaraki (aka early chapter shiggy), virgin!shigaraki, isekai, tw: implications of death/major trauma, car crash, oral (male rec), loss of virginity, slight musk kink if you squint, kinda canon shiggy? rough sex, unprotected, pathetic virgin moment lol, teasing, missionary, p/v sex, choking implied for a few seconds, desperation, premature ejaculation, sliiiiiight breeding kink? if u squint

not proofread! pls dont eat me im sorry but its 5am i dont have the energy to edit rn!!!!!!!

you don't know how it happened. there was a sharp, hollow static, paired with the feeling of drowning, choking, sputtering. you could hear screaming, you could feel the branches interlocking with your innards, pinning you to the car seat. but...everything was so soft, so light...

until it wasn't.

you figured heaven would be a little less daunting than this. even atheists could dream up a place better than this.

but here you were, plopped onto a worn stool, a long mahogany bartop splayed in front of you. maybe it was a sick joke, maybe this bartop was the tree you lost your life to. maybe it was one big metaphor. either way, the leather was sticking to your legs already, a loose nail prodding at your thigh as you shifted in your seat. there was a strange smell here, a mixture of sweat and blood and something smoky, and you couldn't place whether you liked it or not. you tapped your fingers against the worn wood for a moment before glancing around the sullen room.

it looked so very familiar. worn furniture, brick walls, and a dingy carpet splattered the room like dollhouse furniture. the bar was fully stocked, but no one was tending to it. there were a few rooms down a hall, but nothing you could recognize. across from you, a little tv sat, with a torn poster of something you felt on the tip of your tongue. you forced yourself to move, standing from the seat and rubbing your eyes as you approached the wall. with a shaky hand, you wiped dust from the ripped paper, revealing a heroic-looking man. little holes scattered the image, as if it had been used as a dart board. bold writing splayed beneath his portrait read: "ALL-MIGHT", and like a crashing wave, everything came flooding back. your favorite manga series, my hero academia, had a bar similar as the base for the league of villains. you sucked in a sharp, excited breath as your eyes took in another look of the room. maybe this was heaven.

but...this shit doesn't happen in real life. isekai's were a favorite trope of yours, like re:zero or konosuba, yes, now you remembered- you had loved the idea of another world rather than death or rebirth. maybe it was your version of heaven. you bit your nail at the idea of being able to see the base for yourself. sure, it wasn't at all what you had imagined it to be- it wasn't as enchanting, per se, as you had thought. but it was...all in front of you. as you swallowed your discoveries, a squeal of joy erupted from your core. shit, your core. your body, fuck, was it okay? you lifted your shirt, expecting to see the gory visual of your death still imprinted on your skin...but it was gone. as if it had never happened. shit. this isnt so bad then, right?

but something surely was missing. and no, it wasn't your life. well, technically yes it was, but fuck that, who cares? what you really were missing was them. if this was a true isekai...

the sound of metal clanging sends a freezing shock through your bones. you whip around in time to see a very battered and bloody league stumbling in, kurogiri rushing to the bar to grab supplies. you stay silent as you watch them all individually groaning and pushing each other for a seat, too scared to say a fucking word. sure, your obsession was there, but it was all-too-intimidating when they're right in front of you. your breath is stuck in your chest, until a voice shatters your glass-persona.

"boss? who the FUCK is that?" a raspy voice slices the air and you feel everyone's stares fall onto you.

your eyes widen as shigaraki slumps out of his seat wordlessly and slinks over to you, hand extended. he's much larger than you thought he'd be. his frame towers over you slightly as he approaches, a sinister smile creeping up on his cracked lips.

"good question, spinner" his teeth are bared, and he's inches from you now as you shake. "who the FUCK are you?" he repeats the question, a sickening twist in his voice that shows he's really not in the mood to talk. without hesitation, you slip underneath him and head for the door, but he grabs you before you reach it. he yanks you back with four fingers, his grip deadly on the back of your shirt. in a panic, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

"please! i'm sorry! fuck, i'm your biggest fan i promise! i don't know how the fuck i got here i just died and woke up here pleasedon'tturnmeintoashesi'msorry!" your voice is rushed and trembling, but he releases you onto the ground with a thud. you catch your breath as you stand, wiping the dirt from your legs.

"...the fuck?" dabi's voice rings through the thick silence, and the group breaks into a bellowing laughter. except for shigaraki. he stands over you, a wide, confused expression on his face.

"fan? so you've heard of us?" his smirk reappears as he couches down into your face, and you nod rapidly.

"yes, yes, i know all of you, you're my favorite characters!" you point at all of them, reciting their names. toga's smile consumes her entire face as you do so, and grabs onto twice's arm as she squeals.

"characters? tch, what are we to you?" shigaraki shakes his head as he looks down at you.

your expression falls as you realize they all have no fucking idea what the hell you're talking about. you take a deep breath and begin infodumping about "my hero academia", your favorite manga. everything from deku and his quirk, to all might, to the league itself. shigaraki finally backs up a step and offers you space to stand, and you do so. he nods as you recite the plot, his eyes widening in confusion and anticipation. when you run out of breath, he raises a finger to you, and you go silent.

"she sounds fucking crazy..." twice mutters sing-songy through his teeth. you chuckle nervously as shigaraki glances to the rest of the group, still bleeding and beaten.

"tend to your wounds elsewhere. i want a minute alone with...this thing." he gestures with a curled lip to you and you wave awkwardly. the group sighs and exits to their own spaces, toga examining you head-to-toe before bouncing away, exclaiming: "okay, but i want her when you're done!".

you cant help the anxious fiddling as he guides you to the worn stools again. he throws himself in one next to you, poppy irises still fixated on you with furrowed brow. he scowls at you, but says with a hint of amusement, "tell the truth now". his voice has a twinge of agitation to it, and you smile weakly at him.

"that's the truth, i swear" you start, and he shakes his head. you can feel the annoyance leeching off of him, and you start your next sentence very carefully.

"have you ever heard of an isekai?" you drag the words as if it would prevent your death, and he nods. "okay okay, good. so i think that's what happened. see, i'm not from here, as you can tell...and i died in a car crash, really brutal shit man, like literal sticks in my lower intestines and shit, that sucked balls." you trail off as you describe the fatality and he sighs.

"sorry, i got carried away. but yeah, basically, no need for an introduction on your part, i already know everything about you". you smile gingerly as he raises an eyebrow at you and scratches at his neck.

"mhm. everything, eh?" he leans into you again now and your breath hitches. you can smell him now, and it's unlike anything you could have imagined. the smell of sweat is combined with a faint sugared citrus scent. it's strange, honestly you didn't imagine he'd smell like anything more than a general stink, but he isn't unpleasant in the slightest. he's also all-too-close to your face, and you're able to see every patch of dry skin, scar, and scrape on his delicate pale face. strands of powdery blue hair drape around his face, and he pushes it back with a brutish movement as he takes in the image of you. you fight the urge to reach out and touch him as he speaks again, his breath on your face.

"what else do you know about me then, hmm?"

him being that close to you was overwhelming as fuck, and it takes a minute to reboot your brain and respond.

"well, fuck i don't have my phone" you exclaim as you pat your pockets down.

"need mine?" he slips his out of his hoodie pocket with two fingers and you shake your head shyly. "no thank you" you creak out, and shrug.

"well, basically, you're like, all over social media. and people really love you" you start, and a smirk forms on his face again.

"so, in another world i'm...people like me? in this other world...do i kill all might?" he says excitedly, snaking his long fingers together with a clap.

"well," you start, "sometimes?" you bite your lip, thinking of how to phrase it. "people write stories about you, and draw you, hell, some people even cosplay you..."

"cosplay? like...dress up? like me?" he says shocked, and you respond with a content "mhm!"

"...in your other world, do i win?" he smiles manically and you frown. you know his fate in your world. but maybe, in his, it's different. maybe you can lie to him.

"yes." you recall the recent manga leaks and chapters, and force a smile out. "you win, victoriously. and...you're the best villain!"

he leans back in his seat, a cocky look on his face as he folds his arms. "and society...does it fall?"

"you make it yours, shigaraki" you nod, distracting yourself from the blatant display of his death that replays in your mind.

"excellent" he hisses out. "tell me how i do it".

you shake your head. "i promise i can!" a look of determination overcomes you, your confidence way too high for someone who just got obliterated by a fucking tree branch. "if...if i can join you, i can show you everything from my world and help you" you propose, fighting off the aching in your chest. he glares at you for a moment and purses his lips.

"hmph. i'll consider it" he raises a brow and you respond with a tight, flat grin. he rolls his eyes as you shimmy closer to him. at this point, he hasn't killed you, and fuck it, if you die again, who knows where you'll go.

"did you know that a lot of people want to fuck you?" you blurt out, and he chokes on air.

"WHAT?"

"yeah, and they write about it all the time. and draw it, too. they also think you and dabi are together, sometimes you and spinner, hell i've even seen you and eraserhea-"

"WHAT THE FUCK?" he shouts out, and you laugh. you feel the excitement from before come rushing back, making you slightly delirious next to this definitely unstable and unhealthy villain.

"yeah! in my world, you're like, so hot" you giggle.

"i'm going to need you to shut the fuck up while i process that" he raises a hand and takes a deep breath.

he takes a few seconds, rubbing his temples and sighing. "...in what world would i fuck dabi?"

you laugh, violently, and he grimaces. you cant reply, so you just shrug as your laughter continues to startle him.

"well, a lot of people also think you're," you whisper the next part, "a virgin". he scowls at this and flattens his lips. he doesn't respond, which causes you in your delusional state to scooch closer to him.

"...is that true?" you ask quietly, and he glares at you. you take his silence as a yes, and nod.

"hmm. thought so" you reply with approval, slightly satisfied your favorite headcanon was very much true. he grits his teeth and stands from his seat, stretching a bit before walking away with a huff. you immediately fling yourself off your own seat and follow him.

"you know, that's not a bad thing!" you say behind as he trudges down the hall. he flings open a door and slams it in your face, sending you back a bit. you frown, not realizing how far you've been pushing it. you reach for the doorhandle and somehow, it's not locked. you push the old wood and enter slowly, the smell of dirty laundry and that same citrus smell enveloping your senses. he groans as he meets your gaze and you smile sheepishly.

"hey, sorry, i'm not sure why that of all things bothered you..."

he rolls his eyes and flops onto his bed. the springs creak with exasperation as his weight squishes against the old frame.

"of course an idiot like you wouldn't understand. even in your world i'm still somehow seen as a loser" he grumbles and you bite your cheek. you close and lock the handle behind you, and shuffle over to the bed. you dont sit, but you sway slightly as you watch him. his body is more defined from this angle, you can see the gentle muscles under his tshirt-his hoodie has been flung onto the floor with the rest of the clothes-and his baggy pants fall just low enough to expose his porcelain skin just above the waistband of his boxers. you take him in with a greedy stare as you plan your next response.

"...well, yes, but...we all think it's hot." the words startle him and he sits up slightly.

"we??" his eyes narrow, "you're one of them?"

you cringe and nod slowly. "sorry, shiggy, but if its any consolation" he cuts you off with a snap-

"i should kill you right now and send you back to your other world".

your hands fidget uncomfortably at your sides and you fight the urge to take off sprinting again. seems as though when you died, your proper judgement died with you. you sit slowly on the edge of his worn mattress and raise your hands in defeat.

"i don't think that's how it works. if i die again here, i'll just be sent somewhere else, and then i can't help you". he interjects with a quiet "ughhh", and you shrug. "like i was saying, if its any consolation, everyone who does think you're a virgin just wants to fuck you all the more. so in my world you get like, infinite bitches" you grin, and he frowns again.

"are you also one of those freaks?" he retorts, and you wince.

"hmph. checks out. mystery girl from mystery world shows up and says i, quote, get infinite bitches, and allegedly wants to fuck me" he throws his hands up in defeat. "i don't suppose you actually want that, just the idea of it, hm? i'm sure you get off on your world's portrayal of me. for all i know though, you could be lying, you could be a narc little NPC that works for the heroes, and they sent you to weaken me. i don't think i'll fall for it this time, idiot. get out." he points furiously at the door and you pout, folding your arms.

"fair assumption, but with all due respect, even if i were a spy, i don't think i'd be so stupid as to lock myself in a room with you" you motion to the locked door, and he huffs.

"prove you aren't then." he challenges, and you very quickly oblige. at this rate, you're living a fanfiction fantasy and you're thanking that tree branch more and more. you yank your shirt off and climb into his lap, choking out an exclamation from him. you straddle him and almost immediately feel him harden underneath you, eyes blown wide in shock as you wrap your arms around his frame and plant your lips on his. they're cracked and dry, but you couldn't care less. it feels like death all over again, the swirling static enveloping you as you taste him on you. a sweet twinge of blood and candy and salt coats your tongue as you slip it in past his lips, swallowing him whole. he whines as you tug on his tangled hair, rutting into you from below desperately. his body is already shaking, a silent plea as you grind down into him again, the friction of his rock-hard dick against your already throbbing center causing you to both moan. you cant hide your excitement and desperation as you claw at his back. he pulls away for a moment and shakily points to his hoodie on the floor.

"g-gloves" he chokes out, and you nod. you spring up and reach for the pocket, pulling out two artists gloves and tossing them to him. your hands brush against Father in his pocket and you suck air in through your teeth, completely forgetting about that weird fucking thing. you shake off the strange feeling and turn your attention back to him. he's hastily strapping the gloves on and fiddling with the button on his jeans. you lower yourself down to his crotch, the fabric strained against his length. with a surge of newfound confidence, you bite the button and undo the zip with your teeth, and he gasps at the sudden motion. you silently fist-bump yourself as he shimmies the jeans down his legs, tossing them off the bed. you follow, peeling the fabric off your own body and placing yourself back on top of him. he finally reaches up and squeezes your tits with his gloved hands, groaning at the feeling of them in his hands. his eyes are lit up like stars as he ogles your chest, yanking them out of your bra. you silently chuckle and completely lift the article off of you, and his jaw drops. he looks absolutely blown away, and as he greedily cups your tits and squeezes them, he whimpers underneath you. you feel his cock twitch and you grind slightly against it, and within seconds, he's panting and cumming all over you and himself, crying out a string of vulgarities. you kiss him again as he coats you both in slick, hot beads of cum and he bites your lip in pure craze. you remove yourself from his wet lap and look at him with a soft expression.

"aww, you've made a mess already. your boxers arent even off, shiggy" you whisper out and he balls his fists.

"mmf, fuck you, mystery girl" he mumbles out, and you help him pull his boxers off.

"call me by my name, _________". you plant a chaste kiss to his cheek. as his cock springs free, you audibly gasp.

its much bigger, and much angrier right now, than you typically read about. you take it in your hand and feel it, the soft, delicate skin feeling almost out of place on him. it's surrounded by thick baby blue hair, going up to his navel in a sparse trail. its heavier than you expected, too, as it switches in your palm. the creamy skin of his length is offset by a very sensitive silvery-pink tip, already leaking precum again as you thumb over it, sending pathetic whimpers to escape his lips in a fury. you blink away your greater morals and bring your mouth to it, licking a thick stripe from the base, tasting the slightly salty precum against your lips. he shakes as you slip him into your mouth, stretching your jaw out more then you expected you'd have to.

you begin slowly, keeping a hand twisting around the base as your mouth adjusts to the sheer size of it. slowly, you gain comfort and confidence in your actions, and you let your hand go. you take him further into your mouth with a sharp exhale through your nose, and he grips at your hair. he pushes you down, shuddering, and you bury your nose into the mass of hair, breathing in the aroma of his sweat and warmth. you feel yourself slicken more at this, and you bob your head up and down graciously as he whimpers, your name spilling from his lips a few times between labored breaths. you feel the blood pulsing in his shaft, and you wrap your hand around his balls as they tighten, squeezing them as he shatters into you again, thick ropes streaming into your mouth. his grip tightens on your hair and he shoves you all the way down, gagging you slightly as his cum drips down your throat.

"hnng, f-fuck" he drools as his seed fills your mouth generously, adn you pull off with a sloppy mixture of saliva and cum dripping from your lips. you swallow it feverishly and he shakes, watching as you collapse next to him.

it takes him a moment to speak, and its barely above a whisper when he does.

"_______?" his voice is raspier than before as he says your name, and is thick with desire still. you turn to him, still aching for your own orgasm.

"i'm going to fuck you now" he says, a little louder than before. you look at him with wide eyes and nod, spreading your legs are he peels his tshirt off and centers himself between them. he grips a thigh with his calloused fingers, digging his dirty nails into your skin. you hiss slightly but your back arches at the contact.

"why aren't you afraid of me?" he presses himself against your soaking cunt, leaning in to bite your neck. you gasp and grab his face, bringing him to your lips. waves of desire crash over you as he throbs against you. for a virgin, his stamina is something else.

"because i know that if i die again, i'll at least die happy this time" you admit, and reach a hand down to grab his cock. you center it to your opening, and nod. he presses himself in sharply, without warning, and you shriek out in pain.

"gah, fuck, okay, shigaraki" you put a hand to his chest to slow him, "easy, slow, please". he shakes his head and rams himself back into you, snaking a hand to your throat as he pumps inside of you haphazardly. there's no real rhythm to it yet, and you do your best to adjust to the size of him stretching your tight hole hungrily.

"tomura" he replies through grit teeth, and you moan.

"tomura," you repeat with a desperate sob, "please"

his eyes glaze over and with a newfound glimmer of faith, he grips your hips and begins to slowly rut into you, allowing the both of you to finally adjust. he exhales slowly as he rocks his hips into you, and you grab one of his hands, dragging it to your core.

"try...fuck, tomura, touch me" you plead, and he immediately presses his middle finger to your clit. its hard, almost too forceful, and you pull his hand back. he loses concentration and falls out of rhythm for a moment as you guide his hand around, showing him what feels good. you recall a few stories you had read and get an idea.

"like an analog. thumbstick. fuck. you know what i mean" you stumble out, and he very quickly nods.

"so not like a trigger." he follows, and suddenly, his movements are a lot more fluid. he smirks as he rubs your clit steadily. he begins to thrust back into you shakily, then with harder, longer strokes. he follows your directions as you moan and squirm under him, beads of sweat forming on his forehead and shoulders as he gains momentum, the mattress squeaking rapidly under the both of you.

you feel yourself at your own breaking point, the fire inside of you melting like metal as it fills you, and you sink your nails into his back as you clench even tighter around his merciless cock. he snaps out with a cry and thrusts into you faster, becoming a little unsteady as you soak his length. your body splinters in ecstasy as he drives himself relentlessly into you, orgasm ripping your body like a hurricane. you call his name out like an unholy prayer as you fall from your high, and he throws his head back as his own climax tears through him. you feel it as he rams himself as deep as he can, filling you with sticky cum furiously. his jaw slackens as he huffs and pants, the most angelic sounds emanating from the villain's flustered body.

as you both crash hard, he pulls out slowly with a hiss. his arms turn to jelly as he collapses on top of you, the weight of him crushing the air from you slightly, and you giggle breathlessly. you wrap your arms around his sweaty, shaking frame and kiss the top of his head as he hyperventilates.

he gathers the strength to push himself off of you and rolls onto his back next to you.

"was that real?" he asks, and you chuckle lightly.

"well, as real as i am, i suppose". he shrugs and closes his eyes.

"did you read about this? in your other world?" he asks gingerly, and you turn to him.

"something like this, yeah" you admit, and he nods slowly.

"you can stay, mystery girl, so long as you keep telling me about those things you read. or just show me" he says, and you smile. "oh, and help me kill that all-might fucker."

your eyes flutter shut in pure bliss as his visage interrupts your greater thoughts. if this is what your new life would be like, then perhaps the violent death was worth it.

===============================================

this took me like 3 hours to write tbh, i hope its good! i think im gonna cross-post this to ao3 to get the ball rollin. thank u sm for the ask! it was a pleasure (literally) to write this :)

[inbabylontheywept]

your life stories are always so interesting so i shall poke a stick into the cage and ask for more. do you have any fun stories of near death experiences? personally i choked on a lifesaver as a child and could not breathe

personally? not really. ive got a pretty decent hospital story though.

see, my grandpa was in charge of the easter pageant in my state. its a big mormon thing, a lot of other churches come because its just good easter worship. anyway, in part of the pageant, theres a pony for jesus and mary to ride around on. technically supposed to be a donkey, but ponys are just so much more photogenic. anyway this happened when my little sister was going through her little-girl-pony phase, so this was so major-league shit to her. so much so that my grandpa, who i still miss so much, brought this pony to our house so she could ride it.

my little brother? he also wanted to ride it. and i didnt really want to ride it, but they were both so small someone kind of needed to hold those two onboard, and i was the lighest person capable of doing so, (didnt want to overload the pony) so i went on the back too.

and it was a stellar time until the donkey went under a tree, then my little sister hit her head on a branch and fell left, and her fall took my little brother out because he was holding onto her, and both of them took me out, so we all fell off the pony, but me with 2 kids on my left arm.

god blessed me with a third elbow that day.

here are the things that followed after the Miracle of the Third Elbow

my autistic dad came outside to check on me. id broken my arm the year before, so i knew what it was, and i knew what it felt like, so i was able to pretty clearly go "yeah, dad, i broke my arm." and he was able to go "whew. yeah. thats like, harry potter broken." and i was able to say "yeah. yeah it hurts pretty bad." and he said "oh, yeah, definitely. that looks horrible." and then i basically said something like "hopital" and he was like "right" and then we left. my memory after that gets weird.

i can remember driving up main street, and seeing this guy dancing. like, full on dancing down the street. and i asked my dad about why that guy was dancing, and he said that man was a schizophrenic, and he was medicated, but the medication had just made it so that his voices told him to dance instead of hurt himself. now he danced all the time. i should clarify that my dad worked in the ER so he knew a lot of the local homeless on a life-story kind of level. my dads a good guy.

i can remember sitting in the waiting room with a magician that had sliced his right hand open pretty bad while cooking. he was trying his best to keep us entertained with his cards, but because he was doing all his tricks left handed, he'd mess them up sometimes and it was actually kind of more fun to watch than just him in expert mode. another good guy. very friendly, but visibly repulsed by my arm.

i can remember being in a bed, and a nurse coming up to me and saying that they could give me some painkillers, which i was super stoked about, but the IV from the painkillers basically required being stabbed with a needle as thick around as a pencil. she recomended saying the alphabet backwards when she put the needle in, and i said i didn't know how, and then she stuck in the needle in. over 4 seconds i was able to go from z to c, a feat i have never since been able to replicate.

after the painkillers, i watched a tv show called Jackie Chan Adventures, which was an animated cartoon with an animated Jackie Chan, voiced by the real Jackie Chan, solving mysteries. i actually assumed that whole thing was a hallucination until i was an adult, and i was describing it to my wife, and she was like "no, that actually happened." which was funny to happen to me, because when me and her started dating, she just kind of dropped how awesome it was that obama was the first muslim president, and i was like what, no hes an episcopalian, and it turns out that her dad, who sucks for many reasons, had told her that obama was a muslim, and she was sweet enough to believe that, and also to just be like oh, neat, our president is black and a muslim, we are truly moving forward as a counry." i love her so much.

no memories of it after that. not even sure when i got home. just a straight up weird time.

[sinful-lanterns]

I love Yao so much <3 wanna be her mate and give her a big family! Just imagining having a nest with her where she keeps you and the kids safe <3

Yao bringing you nesting material is one of my favorite things to talk about 🥺

When she sees that you want to settle down and start a family, Yao excitedly flies off and begins bringing you sticks (they’re entire branches that she rips off trees), flowers, and one time she brought back an entire mattress for you because she knows you’re a human and humans sleep on beds. Don’t ask where she got the mattress from though, let’s just say that there’s a news report in DisCity about a giant bird woman breaking into a house and stealing a mattress. Chief will have to sort that out later….

Anywho, Yao is very helpful in building a proper home for your family. And even though you’re the one who lays her eggs, it’s Yao who sits on them and broods them. Her body temperature is a lot higher than yours, so she takes the liberty of sitting on the eggs when you need a break.

When the eggs finally hatch tho, AGHDHJSJW they look like the splitting image of their mother when she was a baby (you can see what baby Yao looks like in her interrogation). So chubby and round and very, very red. Yao takes you and your baby bird children to the Bureau to visit sometimes, and Chief has to deal with mini Yaos wreaking havoc and setting things on fire 😭😭

Nevertheless, Chief is very happy. She’s technically a grandma now thanks to you <3

[pomegranate-pen]

Stranded. boom!sonicxfem!reader

chapter 7. captive and captivation.

masterlist.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us?”

Pink suitcases of all kind fill up the small living room, making it a bit harder to move around the place. Hence why you’re glued to the couch watching Amy and Sticks prepare. Amy looks at you worryingly, it was as if you were a toddler being left alone for the first time in her life. Which…is technically not untrue, minus the toddler part.

“Amy can take two guests with her y’know.”  Sticks clutches her own bag on her shoulders, a normal hand-made one with leather. Compared to Amy, she looks at the array of suitcases with utter confusion. “but I guess you’d have to pack light.” A huff comes out of her.looking back at Amy with a tinge of annoyance. “Do you really have to pack this much? It’s only a two day trip!”

“It's not just a ‘trip’ Sticks!” Amy starts getting giddy with excitement. “I’m being invited to Comedy Chimp! That’s the best thing that could’ve ever happened to my business!” ah, right. Comedy Chimp, the one and only late night tv show who speaks with celebrities of this Island. Another new information you’ve learned during your few weeks here. Though not as much as a shocker as the very idea of anthropomorphic people even existing, with your shock on the latter completely phasing by and dying at this point, you’ve come to question more about this world you’re living in.

First, it was the media itself. Somehow, they have their own internet, their own certain electricity and connections that set them completely disconnected from the world outside of theirs. It’s baffling, really. Though you’re not the most expert in this topic, surely they’re connected to it somehow, right? If not, you wouldn’t have been able to connect to Jason in the first place…but then again…you do always have to call him on the highest mountain of the place, with the lowest internet possible and a very glitchy and often blurry figure of Jason on your screen. Perhaps, you should try and see if you have the ability to text and load up videos as well. Maybe with the help of google maps you can pinpoint where you technically are. Despite the idea fresh in your mind, another thought dwells on you, one that makes you huff. You’d rather not let your sudden quick activity on the internet alarm Louis. It’s been quite the two months, suddenly appearing online could raise unwanted attention.

With that out of your mind, you try to trace back to your first thought. Right, the Island’s media. They all have their own celebrities, some you’ve only heard by name, such as Tommy Thunder, and others you’ve seen pictures of, like the eagle on the chocolate bar you're on your first day here. and the third of them were the big stars. Though only a handful, their presence is very well known among the residents. Though deep diving and researching about how and when they have gotten famous feels like a rather fun feat, you’re more curious about something much more boring.

How do they make these certain merchandise and objects?

You will be honest, this Island is no safe place. If the almost active volcano wasn’t proof enough, there is also Eggman who destroys the town constantly, and from what you’ve heard by Sticks and Amy, things such as meteor showers and hurricanes are not uncommon. A very horrifying thought, given how Amy’s house is quite frankly not the safest in terms of structure. Not to mention, you’re soon to be housed in a tree. So yeah, not a nice thought.

But here is the thing, here is the subject that has been bombarding your mind from the moment you’ve woken up. you only know one section of the entire huge Island. Some could argue that you know four, if you count the jungles, beaches and volcanoes. But, all of those places are only a few feet apart, and one can only see them as one zone of the Island. Your proof? Comedy Chimp.

You see, dear imaginary competitor who is trying to reason with y/n’s logic,the host of Comedy Chimp-er… whose name is also Comedy Chimp- does these certain skits. Afterall, there aren’t enough celebrities to interview on a daily basis, so their routine is a bit different from what you’d be used to. They interview a celebrity once a week, which is usually on Friday nights, and before that day, they constantly try to put clues on the show for people to stay tuned and try to guess who the celebrity will be. Clues, who get separated in different skits around the island that the host does. The first night when you watched him, he was in a desert looking area, a place that shocked you and made you ask Amy where he was exactly. Much to your shock, Amy replied that it’s a certain section of the Island away from the town, then she started to ramble about how it was beneficial to the ‘ancients’ in the past. That would also explain why you’ve never seen the studio for such a show, or a studio for any show on their channels for that matter. They were on the other side of the Island, one completely unknown to you. and perhaps, even, it would have the workshops or factories that create products like that eagle chocolate  bar in such a rapid pace.

“-Y/n? were you even listening?” Before you could even delve deeper, Amy’s voice snaps you out. you look at her with a bit of guilt. “yeah- I think? You were talking about why you need all these suitcases.”

“So you agree?” Amy grins triumphantly at Sticks, whom was grumbling and rolling her eyes.

“well…” you huff, and Amy and Sticks both now look at you with little anticipation. “I mean- it’s best to be prepared- but how are you going to carry all of these by yourself? Won’t it be exhausting?”

“uh, hello?” her posture straightens up in pride. “You are speaking to a soon-to-be celebrity and the most successful business woman of all on this island!” Sticks seemingly rolled her eyes at that.

“he’ll probably just ask you dumb questions.” Sticks groaned. “How are you so sure he’s the right guy for a sponsor?”

“Can’t you be a bit more supportive?” Amy sighed. “ not even Sonic got an interview with him yet.”

“Exactly.” Sticks replied. “ He's out of actors and models around here, so now he’s lookin’ for us for content!” she suddenly grumbles. “ain’t no way I’m letting that stale-joke-stealing guy get any money out of me.”

“Well, he’s not interviewing you, he’s interviewing me.”

Sticks sighs at that. “Just warning ya.” She grabs the suitcases and walks through the door. “don’t come crying to me when he doesn’t ask you anything about your new business!” she says, as if she wouldn’t gouge Chimp’s eyes out if he insults her best friend in any way.

“Say, which business are you trying to promote here?” you spoke up, grabbing Amy’s attention as she was zipping up the last bag.

“interior design!” she gleefully answers. “ you did say I had a knack for it, so I thought why not make a business out of it?”

“Well, yes- you do have talent in it.” you take a glance around the house, confirming your own statements to yourself. “But are you sure you want to make every hobby of yours a business?”

“What do you mean?”

“well—“ you sit up a bit more straight. “ You don’t need to make every hobby marketable to prove to yourself that you’re good at said hobby. And you already have so many classes you run, are you sure you even have time for it?”

“oh please,” Amy scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Have you even met me? I am the queen of schedules! I’m sure I can make time for it.”

“hold on-“ Sticks now joined the conversation. “you mean to tell me you didn’t even start the business yet?!””

Now faced with two worried friends and a load of doubt, Amy stutters a bit and then grumbles. “ Trust me on this,guys! This will be highly marketable! Next week you’re going to see me in the magazine!" She strikes a fashionable pose. “Amy Rose, model, business woman,artist, entrepreneur and interior designer!” she strikes another. “What's next for this sublime pink beauty? Go to page 68 to find out more!”

“Do magazines actually have that many pages?” Sticks’ questions go unanswered.

“Well, if you say so.” You just shrugged. It’s not your business,anyways. If this is what she wants to promote, then who are you to stop her? “I hope it goes well.”

“promise me you’ll watch it?” Amy’s eyes are one of excitement, an excitement that quickly shifts to slight concern. “and that you’ll make sure the house  is not trashed by the boys when I come back?”

Two days where you’re alone, one where it’s off to work in the morning, but after it is a well needed rest after the hellish work week you’ve been through. No matter how many animals you patch up or inspect, the rows and reservations at the vetirinary are never-ending. You have a few plans on how to spend the weekend. You’re not sure why Amy’s so worried about the house being trashed, but from what you heard, last time she let Sonic and Knuckles take care of the place it didn’t go so well. something about a couch fiasco. though, since she seemed concerned, you gave her a reassuring smile, hoping it’ll calm her nerves down.

“promise.”

---

The clement household was always known to be cold.

Outside it’s walls, it’s a beautiful, warm victorian-like manor deep within the forest, it’s a princess’ castle and a house pet’s oasis. But within the old rose-covered walls lies a cold, dimly lit, empty house. Even the employees within the place are as quiet as ever, their shoes barely leaving a ‘click’ or a ‘clack’ against the smooth wooden floors.  The lack of noise is the complete opposite of what Cameron is used to. 

Being one of the ‘generational’ families whom have saved the world from doom centuries ago had it’s perks and very small disadvantages. One disadvantage being the oath the families took amongst each other to meet when one wants to speak with them. It’s known as a greta way of teamwork and companionship, breaking it would be considered shameful and done in pure distaste. Which is why he’s here today, in the Clement household by the request of Louis Clement, this year’s biggest jackass.

It’s a request that had his mother spout praises and excitement while his grandparents spoke about upholding respect and acting with manners of a gentleman, all while his great great uncle sat in silence, like he always has.

His family doesn’t know what he knows, so of course they only see this as a common courtesy and perhaps even an offer for future business relations, but it’s far from that,it’s much more ridiculous, because Louis Clement never learned to grow up and face rejection, and now he’s decided to go haywire because of it.  

There are many reasons on why Cameron never liked speaking with the other children  within the guild. One common excuse of his being that their personalities just didn’t mix well with his. His house was known for intelligence, known to be full of scientist and analyst whom constantly support mankind with their scientific goals. Though now the idea of engaging in the scientific discovery is slowly dimming down generation after generation, the honor and promise of helping it prosper is something they must support, whether his father liked it or not. Oh, and him? Well, Cameron, ‘embarrassingly enough’ as his mother would say, likes conspiracy science. Though he often finds himself disagreeing or just being amused by the prospect of flat-earth or pyramids being built by aliens, there is one phenomena that has never left his mind. For he himself has seen proof of their existence- or at least- he knows a trustworthy man who has.

“I apologize for the short notice Mr.Eclipse.”

Shaky. Louis’ voice seems shakier here than he’s ever heard it. just like any other, Louis often wore a mask of confidence when invited to the annual parties, he was radiant, a star in the middle with beaming eyes and a charming smile. He was the perfect image for the Clement family and has strayed far from showing his insecurities to others. a lesson taught by his family, perhaps. For they too tend to not show any annoyance or grievance to anything. He often heard his grandmother complaining about ‘every generation worse than the other, for Clement’s pure hearts as they call it, can dim and become rotten with time.’ He never understood what she meant, but he can get a good grasp of it now. For you see, it seems like the rumours of Clement’s being emotionless was untrue, quite far from it in fact. They are just as emotional as any other human being, or maybe, Louis Clement is by far the most emotional Clement he’s ever seen.

Louis runs a hand in his hair and straightens his clothes, dressed casual and not in the suits Cameron is used to seeing him wearing. Thank god, because Cameron decided against wearing a suit as well, believing he looks too awkward in such a formal getup.

He clears his throat,preparing to sound utterly poised and formal, remembering how his mother prayed for him to not screw this up. “there’s no need for apologies..uh..Mr.Clement.”

“Please, just call me Louis.”

“Okay..Louis- cool.” Shit shit he already ruined it. oh well, he did say he won’t promise anything, perhaps he’ll be saved from the scolding later. “ so—…can I ask why you called me?”

“Why are you in such a rush Cameron?” because you’re an intense psycho who couldn’t take no for an answer- was what Jason would’ve preferred Cameron to say, and he’ll admit, he wanted to see his reaction to such a sentence as well- but he’d rather not find assassins ready to strangle him outside, so he opted to just stay silent instead.

“Let's go to the garden first. I recently got this sublime tea. It would hurt my feelings if you hadn’t had at least one sip.”

Don’t say anything snarky don’t say anything snarky don’t don’t don’t-

Yet, Cameron has always been a troublemaker at heart. From learning the most confusing and less-evidential of sciences to letting a complete stranger take a relative’s yacht. He could not handle ignoring such a perfect moment.

“Why?  Is it poisonous?”

Louis falters in his step, frozen in shock for a moment, his back turned to Cameron. His shoulders shake, then a bit of wheezing  can be heard. A small wheeze then became a holler of laughter. Never has Cameron heard  a laugh so on edge, so on the verge of mental collapse. Oh god, it is poisonous, isn’t it?

Louis turns back and looks at him with a smile. “ I’ve heard that you were amusing to speak with, but I never expected to be laughing from the first minute that you’re here!” if Cameron were a fool, he’d hit Louis or give him another,even harsher comment, but he knew where the line was and where he stood in it, so he kept his mouth in a tight smile and let Louis lead him to the outside, where a garden overtakes the place and a table is set-up right in the middle just for such occasions. 

He wanted to get a word in, to thank for his hospitality or try to make small chit-chat and avoid the main issue he was here for, because given the state Louis is in, he knows for sure it’s about you. yet, his phone constantly buzzes, and Louis urges him to check it right as their tea is being prepared.

With a strained smile, he opens his phone, only to predictably be met with hundreds of messages from Jason.  An entire line of typos, all he could comprehend being Jason’s way of trying to control his mixed shocked and annoyance from Louis’ invite. Last messages were more comprehensible, longer and well-thought-out, all begging him to leave the place immediately, or hell, never answer the invite in the first place.

Cameron held back a full sob, it’s way too late to turn back now.

 As the delightful smell of a floral tea wafts through the room, it does little to calm his nerves, and he’s left with this constant uneasiness as he tries to look anywhere but Louis’ eyes.“So, Cameron,”  Louis quickly takes a sip, a frown upon his face as he remembers buying this tea for it was specifically your favourite blend, an irony he could not bear to fathom upon, a heartbreak he’s that he cannot process even one bit longer.”I’ve heard an interesting story from your cousin yesterday,” shit. Cameron is in a losing battle, and he now knows that he must die a silent man, never giving away the location of the hideout. “ care to explain your side of the story?”

“…hah..why not?...” he fiddles with his collar, the clothing on him feeling far too itchy now.

-----

On such a beautiful and quiet beach, one would think peace would be exemplary here. Yet, you are fuming with annoyance and rage as your phone barely functions at all anymore. With your charger now just a few scraps of strings, charging the poor thing was always an impossible task. It was like you were forcing your device to do the worst yoga poses for seven straight hours. Therefore, your phone is slowly trading to a no man’s land. It constantly glitches, fumbles, and automatically turns itself off.  Anytime you restart and turn it on, the batter bar keeps showing a completely different number. You were glad such a thing just happened to your phone and not your laptop, because if that was the case, any contact you had with the outside world would be gone forever.

However, you couldn’t help but blame yourself for not doing anything about this sooner. With your phone now in shambles of what it used to be, you can never go back and save the files you had there or retrieve any lost numbers or accounts. your entire life in the city was in that phone, from socials to photos, stupidly satisfying mobile games and old internet friends you haven't spoken to in months now, all of it was now gone. Though you are still grateful to have left the hellhole of a place, it never meant that you didn’t have at least a few good memories there.

A small stab hits your heart, and you find yourself in a dilemma. Are you a fool? Must you pick a world and stick to it and never look back?

This freedom you have feels great, it feels cathartic even, yet, you still find yourself often missing the small things you had in that past life.With how much your mind has been processing your childhood, you’ve been feeling an ache for the small things in life. your mother’s brownies…her teasings and banter with your father in the rare times they did get along..her soothing lullabies that she;d sing to you when you had a nightmare-

You freeze up for a moment. Wait.

God, did you miss your mother of all people?

The urge to facepalm was increasing by the second, your mind now berating you for even thinking about missing a mother like her. nevertheless, your feeling’s were evident. Even after all this dread she;s giving you, all those depressing nights where you considered your own worth, you still ache for the little love she has shown you. Sometimes, in your imaginative mind, you always thought she’d one day look at newspaper tabloids talking about your infamous adventures and say how proud she was of you to all her friends. In your child years where responsibilities were simpler and expectations were far less heavy, you always thought that you’d become a great adventurer and Louis a great businessman, he always claimed that it was his dreams to be the person that makes his parents proud. A sentiment that always felt off to you. you would even sketch out your ideas, show them to your family excitedly and claiming you want to show it to Louis too in the next playdate. These claims didn’t sit well with your mother, as she always coaxed you into leaving them at home for next time, not to tell Louis or anyone else in his family about the matter, because you want it to be a surprise, don’t you? speaking about the art piece would only ruin the amazement they’d feel in the next play date! So never bring it, only do so when mother mentions it.

You’re sure the drawings are up in the attic somewhere, collecting dust with all your other plastic and paper companions you’ve made and talked with over the years, alone in your room unless Louis called. Alone, cold and murmuring your words, not wanting to wake anyone’s attention to your fantasy filled world, full of friends and companions that you held dear, all whom in your teenage and adut life in the city have become w withering memory, yet now, you find yourself remembering a bit more details about them with each passing day. There was the adventurer whom you loved her book and always imagined yourself as her little sister, one cartoon character known to be a grouchy old man with a soft heart whom you’ve always seen as a father figure and—

PLANK!!!

Pain and shock all hit you at once as your head falls face first to the sand below you, a pained cry emitting from you as the banging pain of whatever metal material that has hit your head now takes over your mind. Now, you could only hear two, robotic-like voices, one more wise while the other a bit more goofy and high-pitched. They walk- more like hover- to your line of sight, the presumably red one- you guessed, for your eyesight was now becoming blurry by the second- glancing to your eyes and jolting a bit in shock.

“It seems like she’s still awake.” He tells his yellow, more cubic friend. One whose holding a metal bat with a familiar logo on it. “Cubot, hit her one more time with the bat, but try not to lead into any injuries. Her head is more fragile than ours.”

You couldn’t help but give a strained giggle, startling them both. “..cubot…” you give a small chuckle. “…very….. fitting…”at this point, your mind was becoming far too sleepy to understand even the smallest grains of the sand beneath you, let alone what their exact conversation was about. Something about this loss of senses and eyesight only individualising things by color left you in a state of déjà vu. Only now, the sun isn’t as blazing as it was before, but a cold wind made you flinch.

The yellow one seems to have heard your almost inaudible words, scratching his head with a confused gaze. “really? I always thought my name was ironic. Because I’m the more orb-shaped between the two of us.”

The red one looked at him in disbelief. A blur of stuttered and confused words leave him as he finds himself trying to process the ludicrous thoughts of his friend, all while trying to find the best way to explain in the simplest way possible how his claims are utterly false- yet he gives up mid-second, sighs and just stares at you disappointed, as if he’s seen this scene before and he’s experiencing his own déjà vu as well.

“let’s just…hurry and get this human to Dr.Eggman.” he points to your forehead. “ go on, hit her again with the bat.”

As if to mock you, which a part of you thinks that’s not it, the yellow bot hits the bat a few times on the palm of his hand before bringing it to the top of his head. You quickly close your eyes, swiftly feeling the impact—everything around you fades to black.

-----

You’ve always loved your mother.

Sure, she could be quite annoying at times- her hypocrisy was always a huge problem. Her constant need to make every issue and problem someone else’s fault always made you feel bitter, and her love for you has always felt…conditional.

If you’ve done everything you’re told, if you followed every rule and replied with ‘yes mother’ to every command, she’d adore you to the moon and back and call you her special beautiful girl. However, falter even once, break something or deny an order and you were met with a scowl and a judgemental stare for every action you made, every breath you took and every laugh you had.

You don’t think your mother ever wanted you.

From the moment you were born, you were made to entertain. The very reason of your birth, as your parents often claimed, was because Jason wanted a sibling, because their favorite boy was lonely.

You never really knew how your mother truly felt about you. Like any other parent, she’d claim she loved you, and only wanted what was best for you. to the point where she’d make you abandon all dreams and quirks of yours to fit into the standard she wanted you to be, the person she believed you must be.

There were times where you truly did feel that love, where you’d both laugh about what you did at school, or when yoi both would drink tea and gossip about your dad’s side of relatives. Sometimes, she’d see you and have the urge to hug, claiming she just loved you so much, the very thought of you being her child made her happy. Whenever you were injured or bloodied up, your mother would be panicking and hugging you for dear life, giving you a bountiful amount of love and attention you’d rarely feel from her in normal circumstances.

…there were times where you injured yourself on purpose, just so you could feel her worry. Feel her love. Feel her care.

They say that a mother’s love is unconditional, that no matter what, your mother would always love and adore you. but that was never the case with your  mother. The love you wanted to receive always had a price, always had a condition. And the reason for it is quite simple.

Your mother may love you.

 but she never liked you.

That, is the difference she had with other mothers. Mothers like spending time with their child. They like the child’s personality, hopes and dreams. They can imagine in another universe being their age and becoming their friend. Your mother was never like that. For you are the complete opposite of who she was. and she couldn’t tolerate that. She couldn’t ever accept that.

You often wonder if you’ve gotten the daydreaming side of you from your mother. A side she must be too embarrassed to discuss, because you swear that your mother had already made up a personality for you inside her head right before you were even born. She must’ve been daydreaming about a best friend's daughter, a girl that will help her dear mommy in any way she can and tries to make schedules and routines similar to her. She dreamed about having  a mini-me around. She wanted to raise her childhood self, give the love and support she never had as a child and live life bi-curiously through you.

But it failed. You were a failure. You were born a failure.

Something about that makes your heart ache.

The more memories that flash through your mind, the more you wish to escape your dreams and finally wake up. yet you’re stuck, paralyzed within this state of subconsciousness as more bitter memories flashed through you and more claims are made.

Then, suddenly, a horrid smell fills your nostrils and the world flashes white.

----

“*cough cough* GAH- that smell is disgusting!” a gurgle-like, constantly prideful and annoyed voice rings through your ears. “ I told you to just aim at her, not at me you fool!”

“Sorry boss, but you were kinda right beside her.” A goofier voice said.

“well couldn’t you just tell me?! was it that hard to just tell me to scooch away a little?!” your senses were slowly coming back to you, your mind still in a bit of  a haze. Once more all you see is colors. Shades of red and yellow all around you. with specks of white blending the background.

“but..you said to not talk to you until you’ve finished your villainess monologue to the captor.” It is now you finally regain sight and can fully see who's speaking. It was Cubot, holding what seems to be a gun and a sprinkler attached together.

“and what are you doing right now?” the man beside you, Eggaman, threatened.

“uh….” Cubot looks quiet for a moment, a finger under his chin as he genuinely thinks and contemplates about the question. “..not not talking?”

Eggman’s annoyed face just somehow deepens in its wrinkles and frowns as he facepalms. An angered and exhausted groan comes out of him as he looks at the two bots. “Just shut it and let me do my evil monologue in peace! “ he then sighed. “God, it’s like I have to do everything myself here!” he then turns back and faces the red one, which if you remember,is named Orbot. “ You! go fetch me my hot cocoa!”

“uh…sir..we’re out of hot cocoa powder.” Orbot worriengl;y replied.

“WHAT?! What do you mean we’re out?!—“

As Eggman starts another parade of enraged rambles to the bots, it’s at this time you decide to finally shake up the exhaustion in your mind and comprehend you surroundings. You try to wriggle your body, yet you found your hands tied to the back. great. Just fucking fantastic.

Moreover, there seems to be a barrier around you, a sort of laser-cage that ensures you don’t move an inch from the circle that’s deemed your prison. The room around you is strange, yet awfully intriguing. A house in pure white. Fitting for a scientist, you guessed. Though it was at that moment you remembered that Eggman was technically a robotist- not a scientist. So truly, the house being ensnared in white seems a little jarring. With how there was nothing but a work desk towards your left, a mixture of tools,gadgets  and blueprints cluttering the entire walls of the room, you guessed you’re at his workshop.

You look back at Eggman, who was still scolding the two now shaking bots like he doesn’t have a captor to attend to right now. with a clear of your throat, you grab the group’s attention and parepare your voice to sound unwavering and unbothered, because truly, you didn’t feel much fear anymore around Eggman’s presence. Sure you were a bit worried about his new plan, but from all the stories you heard about his silly antics and your previous interactions ending in his failure, you didn’t feel much threatened by him anymore.

“um..excuse me but- can I ask why I’m being kidnapped?”  you asked. “follow-up question- “ an unknown confidence blurred into you. where it came from, you’re unsure, but you couldn’t help but grin. “Can I have some hot cocoa too? I’ve been craving something sweet for a while now.” a hot cocoa will never beat your mother’s brownies, you knew that. But it didn’t hurt to quench such a craving with another chocolatey sweet treat.

Orbot’s robotic faces somehow switched from neutral to excited as his hands clasped together in delight.”oh why of course! How would you like your hot cocoa? With marshmallows? Candy canes? Oh oh! maybe T-AaaAAH-“

Eggman suddenly  shoves Orbot away, quickly taking his rolling chair and sitting on it with a dramatic, villainy pose. He tries to ignore the pained groans Orbot gave or the clack and clatter of the items around him that fell into disarray as he shoved Orbot away.

He starts off with a prideful, villainous laughter. “We meet again, Doctor.” You couldn’t but hold back a smile, amused on how Sonic’s nickname for you is slowly spreading around the island. It’s nice to have the power to gloat your doctorate without lifting a finger or uttering a word. “ How foolish of you to let your guard down when your little miss ‘fuzzy puppies' partner—” he does a ‘quote on quote' hand gesture. His brows soon furrow and he looks at you with deep offense. “—which by the way, was my fuzzy puppies partner first—” he couldn’t help but mention. “—is out of town for the whole weekend.”

“Are your attacks always this frequent?” you couldn’t help but ask. “don’t you think it’s best to take time creating a plan first for a month or two and then attack?”

Eggman stills quiet for a moment, as if he’s truly considering your question. “And why would I do that?” he countered. “ It's my job to be a constant fear and menace! It’s all in the villain’s code of honor.” He suddenly puts one hand on his chest and the other high-up. “I vowed to destroy everything on sight, to be at present in the news columns at least thrice a month,to see my plans come to fruition as the world around me burns.” In this moment, your mind entertained a thought of a national-villain themed anthem of sorts playing behind him, all while his signature eggman logo was placed on a flag and flying with the soaring winds.

“…but…wouldn’t it give you more time to plan your evil schemes?” you shuffled a bit, trying to gain a more comfortable position even with the laser-like handcuffs limiting your movement. “ like- you could plan more than just another bot attack-you can even have more time to build more complicated robots! I mean- the first one I saw was a pretty strong one. But it probably took a long time to make, right?”

Orbot looked at Cubot with utter confusion. “Is she seriously giving her captor advice?”

Cubot shrugged.“Maybe we hit her on the head too hard?”

“SHUT IT YOU TWO! Can’t you see that I’m having a serious conversation with a fellow doctor?! Go get those hot cocoas ready already!”

With the shout startling both bots, they scurry away to the kitchen. Eggman quickly grabs a pen and paper and eagerly awaits for your input. “Now tell me, what did you think of my last attack at the village?”

---

Despite the shift of attitude with Eggman was a bit amusing, you still tred carefully when expressing your opinions on his previous attack. You made sure to add in advice,but nothing too specific that he could use to ruin the entire village with. It was simple things like attack in open areas next time, or don’t just bring laser-shooting bots in a street fight. Get a bit creative, make-up new bots rather than constantly fixing the old ones.

“Do you know how much money that would cost me?” he grumbled, notebook in hand. “Villainy isn’t cheap, you know.”

“then…how did you get all of this?” you look around the room, fidgeting a bit as you try to adjust your posture in this tied up position. “I’m pretty sure most of the items here cost even more than a few simple bot-making materials…”

Cubot suddenly chimes in. “Oh! we actually bought all of these second hand from villai-“ he’s quickly hit in the head by Eggman, whom was looking at him with warning. “…nevermind.”

“don’t listen to his prattle.” Eggman advised, then he groaned like a tired father. “I may have forgotten to place a few screws in this one’s head when I was making him.”

You felt pity for Cubot, his naivety reminding you a bit of yourself when you were younger. But then again, memory lane has been a horrid bitch to you ever since you got to this island, and you’re finding every little thing to be a reminder of your past. Cubot is now becoming one of them.

“my point still stands.”  You look back at Eggman. “your attacks are becoming way too boring.”

Eggman merely grumbles in annoyance, notebook slammed to the table and arms crossed like a moody child. An awkward silence takes over the room for a moment, making you realize just how uncomfortable your body was getting from being tied up for so long. then, Eggman gives another annoyed grumble and rolls his chair to meet Orbot.

“has he answered yet?!”

Orbot taps a few buttons on the phone, waiting in the line for a moment before sighing and shaKing his head no. Eggman’s brows furrow, he gets up and takes the phone from him and urgently taps the buttons on the phone with much more strength than Orbot has. His foot taps impatiently on the ground as the phone dials.

“ Hey Sonic! I don’t know where you are right now, “ he raised a brow. “probably taking a nap. But in any case- guess what?” he brings the phone to your vicinity, expecting you to say something on the phone. Instead, you gave him a mischievous smirk and then blew raspberries.

“w-what?! No!!!—“ Eggman’s eyes flared up in anger as he looked at you baffled. He then grumbled to himself, nodding and looking at you with annoyance and..a bit impressed. “well played…well played.” He brings the phone up to his ear again. “that wasn’t me by the way. I kidnapped that rebellious human as payback for the humiliation she brought on to me.” he then looks at you. “a payback that will be much harsher now that she has also ruined what was supposed to be a threatening call!” oh well, it was absolutely worth it. you couldn't help but give him a rebellious grin.  “Anyways, I hope this message finds you terribly, “ he hums. “goodbye.”

“Is that how you end every call?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“only when calling my enemies. For fellow comrades, I say ‘I hope this message finds you in an evil-scheming state.’”

“that’s quite the mouthfull..” you mentioned..

“It's the villain code.” He merely shrugged. “ You should see the villainous messages they send me and then judge.” He huffed in annoyance.

“wait a second---“ you looked at him in disbelief. “you…have contact with other villains?”

“What, you thought I was the only being looking for absolute dark control over this Island?” he scoffed.you do remember Tails talking about there being others when you first got here. “ Of course there are other villains. None are as great as me though.”

“no-I know that. I’m just…shocked that you guys like—contact each other. Shouldn’t you all be rivals?”

“We are but…uh..” he scratched his cheek for a moment, trying to find a way to explain it to your non-evil-scheming mind. “think of it..as a classroom.” He continued. “We all have the same enemy.”

“the teacher?”

He hums in delight. “correct! And we all need to beat the teacher by?...” he awaits your answer, acting like a teacher himself. A teacher for villainy. The thought makes you chuckle.

“uh…” you think for a moment, shuffling uncomfortably as the ropes on your wrist scratch your skin. At least the conversation with your kidnapper helps you ignore it. Is this what they call Stockholm syndrome? Probably not. “…by…killing the teacher?....” you joked, unsure of what the correct answer truly is.

“yes!” he exclaimed, Orbot and Cubot clapping for you in admiration. Cubot then turns to Orbot. “ She's really good at this. Are we sure she’s not a villain too?”

Orbot looked at him surprised. “did you just….actually ask a good question for once?”

Cubot scratched his metalic head at that, and you wondered, did…robots ever feel itchy?..did they feel any sort of sensations you feel on a day-to-day basis? Or was this all programmed to their brain as a way to imitate human- well, in this case, anthropomorphic—behaviour? Oh my god, are you actually interested in eggman’s work? Are you a villain in the making?

“but you see, you obviously can’t kill your teacher.” He shrugged. “or at least, they tell you you can’t. And so, what do you do? you do what the teacher hates you doing!.”

“fail their class?” you quickly added, but at the same moment, he too, added,“pass their class!!!”

You look at each other in dumbfounded silence.

“what? Are you pulling my leg here?” Eggman grumbled, yet it sounded more confused than angry. “why on earth would they want you to pass their class?”

“because it’s their job??” you pointed out with a huff. “ I mean- think about it- their entire purpose is to help their students pass—why on earth would they seek joy in failing you? If most students of the class fail, then the blame is not put on the students anymore, rather, it’s put on the teacher themselves, and they lose their job.”

Another eerie silence takes the room, and you’re left with an utterly dumbfounded and shocked eggman, processing the information you gave him.

“did she just….tell us that we’re….we’re actually…” Cubot looked at Orbot in horror. Orbot hesitated, yet turned around to him and soon replied. “..that…we’re actually..helping Sonic be a hero?....”

Your eyes go widened as well, suddenly realizing the simple infodump you just uttered was in fact, the most earth-shattering information they have ever received. To them, this simple flaw in comparison is worse than the curse of Ra itself. A curse that, you’re very certain they’ll bestow upon you now, if given the chance.

Both you, Orbot and Cubot look at eggman in concern, waiting to see what his reaction would be. And yet, he stands frozen, his brows still up in shock and his mouth slightly agape. You couldn’t see behind his glasses, but you were certain his eyes were as wide as saucers now. He stayed like that for an excruciatingly long minute, and Orbot, all while clutching Cubot fearfully, quickly speaks up. “um….Dr.Eggman?....are you…alright?..”

He doesn’t give any response, something that concerns you all even more than before.

“should we dispose of her?” Cubot asked in concern, all while hiding behind Orbot.

“honestly?” you sighed. “I…wouldn’t blame you for that.” It was deserved, really. If you were told that you were actually aiding your mortal nemesis rather than destroying, you’d want to kill the fucker who told you that too.

However, eggman still stayed silent. He soon took a deep breath, his face turning into a deep frown as he turned around and walked to the telephone once more. He clicks a few buttons, then taps his foot impatiently as he waits for the dial to go in message mode.

“hello, Sonic, it’s me again, Dr.Eggman.” he starts formally. “GET YOUR PATHETIC BLUE SELF RIGHT HERE THIS INSTANT BEFORE I EXERCISE THIS…THIS DEVIL UP TO SMITHEREENS!!!” You all flinch and wince at the sudden bang in your eardrums. Yep, this is how you die. By giving the man you kidnapped you an existential crisis and making him think you’re the devil. You hoped Satan would at least give you a high-five for that on your way in. “get here NOW or else!” he quickly slams the phone back in its place, making you all flinch. He takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. “you..you’re…” he wheezes out, shoulders slouching. “you’re somehow more evil than I am!” he said in a dramatic and slightly fearful tone. “How can you do it so easily?”

You shrugged, despite everything, amusement courses within you. It's impressive how much more confident you’ve gotten these past few weeks. You wonder if it’s because you’ve been surrounded by utterly confident and fearless people. “ It's all from my trauma, I think.”

“ah, so you’re a future serial killer in the making.” Orbot said in the most informative tone ever, a complete opposite energy of the thing he just implied. “fascinating, do you perchance also kill animals for fun?”

You look at him dumbfounded. “…I’m a vet, Orbot.”

“so?” he hummed, and you swore he was a bit amused by this. “ even doctors can be serial killers.”

“I’m done with the conversation now.” you sighed, not wanting to implicate yourself in such a dark light. And yet, they didn’t seem to take the hint. And whether it was for their evil amusement or general lack of intelligence, you were unsure.

“But, let's say you did have the ability to kill someone and get away with it.” cubot chimed. “Who would you choose?”

Eggman, who was distracting himself with some blueprints, also stopped what he was doing, apparently curious for your answer as well. they all awaited eagerly as you hesitated in your reply, in deep thought.

“uh…no one?” you huffed.

“seriously?” Cubot asked, a mix of shock and annoyance in his voice. “there’s not even one person you hate?”

“Well…” you considered things for a moment. What if you had the chance to kill louis? You do hate him for what he;s done. Maybe seeing him dead wouldn’t be so bad. And yet, as soon as you thought of that, the very idea of making him disappear from the world, you remembered the gleam of hope in his eyes, his sheepish smiles and his dumb jokes, his dorky interests, his desperate need to wins everyone’s approval, his desperate thirst for affection. Your heart aches.”…no, not really.” You could never do it. you could never do that to anyone. Not even Louis Clement.

Eggman groaned at that, rolling his eyes. “ So that's why you’re not a serial killer or genius villain.” He muttered to himself. “You care too much. You’re..emotional.” he gagged at the word, apparently sickened by the very concept of it.

“…nothing wrong about caring.” You muttered, your heart in a heap of swirling emotions you can’t comprehend. Eggman rolled his eyes at that. “There's nothing wrong with drinking orange juice after brushing your teeth either…but it still tastes terrible and makes you feel awful, doesn’t it?” he jabbed back.

“..comparing matters of the heart to something as simple as the rules of eating is ridiculous.” You huffed, now a bit offended to have your emotional state be compared to something like that. I mean, truly, what’s the problem with being emotional? Of choosing heart over logic?

“but it’s not wrong.” He continued to jab, shrugging playfully. “ There's nothing wrong with comparing things to food.” He mocked,his evil chuckle further adding more salt to the wound.

With an annoyed frown and grumble, you let the conversation end there, too tired and quite frankly, too hungry to continue this any longer. Soon, your stomach rumbles as your nose catches the scent and aroma of the ever-calming and delightful sweet treat, coco.

“The hot cocoas are ready!” Orbot exclaimed in excitement and delight, reminding you of a mother on christmas night.

Eggman clapped his hands in excitement as he took a mug from the trey, drinking the hot chocolate and sighing in satisfaction. He then snaps his fingers. “Cubot! Take a mug and hold it out for our capture over here.”

Cubot, despite his robotic face, somehow frowned and furrowed his eyebrows. You marveled a bit at how expressive eggman’s creations can get. “Why am I always the one who has to feed the kidnapped?”

“because you can’t even make a simple sandwich.” Orbot countered back with a sigh.his voice then got tinged with a bit of pride. “…let alone masterfully brew a relaxing cup of cocoa.”

“lEt alOnE MastERfuLLY BrEw A ReAlAxINg cUp OF cOaCoa.” Cubot mocked in a whiny voice, annoying Orbot in the process. He then groans, grabbing the mug from the trey and holding it out to your tiny circle-cell, immune to the laser around it, it seems.

You look at the hot cocoa suspiciously, giving a glare to eggman. “this isn’t drugged, is it?”

Eggman looks at you with disgust and offense. “ I’m a villain, not a monster.”

“…fair.” You hummed, giving a shrug, which further annoy your constrained wrists into pressure as you edge a tiny bit closer to the laser cell, Cubot’s hand reached out for the mug to reach your vicinity. You wait for moment for it to cool down, blowing on it a bit to somehow wipe away the steam that was pouring out of it. yet of course, it was to no luck, the steam was never-ending, and despite your better judgement, you take a sip, and soon, your taste buds get greeted to the sweetness of cacao and milk…mixed with….garlic?

Eggman gives a hearty chuckle as you spit out the drink, coughing a bit in shock, your tastebuds practically screaming in horror of the cacophony of flavors. “Still evil though.” He chimed, grinning triumphantly while you gave him a glare.

With a horrible lasting taste of cocoa now invading your tongue, you merely grumble as you zone out, letting your kidnappers chatter amongst themselves as you look at the clock, eyeing the ticking minutes and seconds, wondering where on earth Sonic could be.

It’s embarrassing, really, how much you rely on Sonic and the others’ aid when it comes to Eggman. Surely, you can’t expect them to always be there, right? a pang of guilt runs through you. you’re a deadweight to them, aren’t you? the damsel in distress, god, the thought of it makes you cringe and want to jump off the summit of the volcano. You really need to learn how to fight, or at least, learn self-defense.  But would that even work against someone like eggman, who has an army of bots always swarming the opponents?

Would you ever be good enough to fight alongside team Sonic?

----

Jason punched Cameron in the face.

he immediately cursed, spilling out a mouthful of ‘sorry’s as he helps a wincing Cameron get back up, immediately checking his face and frowning at the blooming red spot on his cheek now. “shit— Cameron, I don’t know what got over me—just—“ he tries to take a deep breath, trying to control the utter panic, terror and rage that was coursing through him. his rage, though unfortunately befallen onto Cameron, wasn’t directed at that poor soul at all. Louis fucking Clement on the other hand, can eat shit.

“no, no, I deserved that.” Cameron groaned in pain, rubbing his cheek to try to soothe the throb. “…I almost fucked everything up.”

“almost.” Jason sighed,tapping his fingers on the table. Brianna’s café feels awfully empty without the utter awkwardness and ‘I’ll-try-my-best-but-you-know-I’ll-somehow-fuck-something-up’ attitude Y/n always had here. he’s been avoiding coming here, for more reasons than just missing his dumb sibling’s presence. Hell, he used to act like he didn't know nor was he related to Y/n whenever she worked here. it’s always been this way. He always acted like they were entirely different people of their own, that their life doesn’t and should not coincide much with one another. it’s what helped him gain independence. It's what helped Y/n gain independence.

‘…maybe a little too much independence.’ He sighed at his thought. After all, only a maniac with no consideration for her family would immediately pack up her bags and run away to a stranded island, leaving her older brother to pick up the mess.

‘….but who drove her to that point?’ is a question that runs through his head day and night, a question he always throws away and tries to ignore how much it gnaws at his brain, eager to answer, yet too afraid to hear it. he shakes his head, taking a deep breath and looking at the now adjusted, yet still a bit in pain Cameron. “…so what did you tell him?”

“utter bullshit.” He huffed,thanking a waitress as she brought him a pack of ice, giving a warning glance to Jason to not lead this to a fight unless he wants to get kicked out. he straightens up a bit in slight alarm, holding his head down respectfully like a soldier. Cameron continued. “told him I took the yacht myself for a ride and broke it, now I owe my cousin a new one.”

“Did he ask anything else?”

“asked about my relationship with you.” he shrugged. “told him I only knew you in highschool.” Jason nods at that, giving out a sigh of relief. Louis suspicions may grow because of this, but at least he’s farther from the truth now. a deafening silence falls upon them. Soon, Cameron looks over to Jason curiously.

“so….what happened to her?” there was a hint of worry in his voice. a hint of guilt over everything. “Is she safe?”

Jason hesitates to answer, tapping his foot nervously. “define safe.”

“…oh god.” Cameron rubs his temples, his worry now evident. He takes off his glasses in stress, as if he doesn’t want to see Jason’s face right now, nor does he want to see anything clearly.

“she’s fine- don’t worry.” Jason quickly added, trying to ease his distress. “just…in a weird place.”

“where?”

“…you won’t believe me if I tell you.”

“Jason,” Cameron looks at him with a deadpan expression. “I believe that there were anthropomorphic beings living with us in ancient times. Nothing can shock me.”

Suddenly, something in Jason’s mind rings, as if a lightbulb has flickered on top of his head as he looks at Cameron with franatic realisation, his posture straightening, eyes quickly skimming to see if anyone is paying attention to them before landing back on Cameron again, leaning a tiny bit closer as he mutters. “….what did you say those beings were called again?”

-----

The voice of cheers invaded the living room’s space, Eggman sat on his red couch, his ‘evil tea’ in hand. (his words, not yours. When asked what makes it so evil he said it was made with children’s tears and the leaves of poison ivy. You weren’t sure if he was messing with you or not. What made it more comical was that his mug was red, and his logo on it with devil horns.) Cubot and Orbot sat on the ground, you being between them. Since the hours of afternoon passed by with no Sonic nor even Knuckles and Tails in sight, Eggman decided to change the location of your imprisonment to somewhere more stimulating. Not for you, of course, but for him. he did consider leaving you here with the watchful gaze of his bots, but that soon changed when Cubot started picking at his own wires again and glitching, all while bumping into Orbot and making him fall, oil in his hands pouring to his circular head, then somehow Cubot bumping onto the counter, flicking the blowtorch and lighting Orbot’s head on fire.

Now, the slightly smoked bot was wiping the remaining cinder off his head, his expression, though limited, showing his discontempt. Orbot was happily watching the television as well, all while a bowl of snacks was in hand and trying to feed you. You were way too embarrassed by the notion, and though you were starving, you refused to get fed like that, remaining uncomfortably tied and still as you tried to distract your mind with the blaring lights on screen. Though the universe loved having you as its jester, fate still seemed to be on your side, helping you keep your promise to Amy by making Eggman watch Comedy Chimp.

After saying some rather dry yet unproblematic jokes, all while showing bloopers of the different residents of the island making ‘silly’ mistakes, the talk show host, Chimp, finally says something worth your attention. “Today, we have an incredibly special guest. Someone pink,someone heroic,” then, he put one of his hands up as if he was telling you a secret. “someone who might be a certain bluey’s girlfriend.” The crowd gives a resounding, choreographed ‘oooohh’ as Chimp winks mischievously, you couldn’t help but feel second hand embarrassment for Amy. “ladies and gentlemen let's give a warm welcome to Amy Rose!” the crowd cheers once more as she enters the stage, and you couldn’t help but proudly smile. Amy seemed a little annoyed, but she smiled politely to everyone, all while giving a glare to Chimp. “for the record,” she says as she sits down. “I am not Sonic’s girlfriend. And even if I was, that is not my entire personality.”

Chimp gives a hearty, professional laugh, looking at Amy with a half-assed apologetic glance. “Sorry ma’am, what can I say, I’m a sucker for gossip.” The crowd laughs with him, and Amy seemingly tries to hold back the urge to roll her eyes.

“So, Amy, tell me, how ya been?” Chimp leans in a bit closer, an act to show the audience he’s somewhat interested in what she has to say, and yet, his tone seemed off to you.

Despite that, Amy’s eyes shine with excitement, her posture straightening up a bit and giddy obvious in her grin. “well, you see Chimp, I’ve been getting very into interior design lately, and—“

“---yeah yeah that’s interesting and all,” Chimp immediately cuts her off with a wave of his hand, a flash of boredom held on his gaze, one that soon reverts back into the welcoming façade before anyone else could notice. “But I mean what’s going on with you.”

“um..” Amy gives a nervous laugh. “..excuse me?”

“oh come on, you know!” he then starts counting with his fingers. “unrequited love, roommate with a  horrendous being,” you choked on air on that one, shock, amusement and horror all going through you at once. Eggman however bolts out laughing, slapping his lap alongside it. “ your restaurant business going to shambles…I mean, it’s been quite the few weeks for ya, hasn’t it missy?”

“First of all, do not call me missy.” Amy growled, her rage now fully evident. while she was sitting poised and calm, her firsts were clenched, her eyes glaring daggers at the host. You admire how she’s trying to control her temper even when faced with such public humiliation,had it been you, you would’ve pounced at the monkey and punched him to death.”Second of all, Sonic and I are not dating. And we never have. And I have a life outside of him, so you better stop associating every little thing I do to him!” she practically screams the last part, you were certain she wanted to say this sentence for a very, very long time. Much longer than when this interview was scheduled. “Third of all,” her right eye twitches. “don’t you ever, and I mean EVER call my friend a ‘horrendous being.’ever.again—“ she then points to him threateningly. “—unless you want a good smack with my hammer for it!”

Chimp gets taken aback, holding his hands up in defense as he gives a nervous laugh. “Woah there Miss-er…Madame Rose,” he gives a strained, stressed smile. “I’m just speaking for the public here— I merely ask what the audience, both here and at home, want to ask you themselves.”

“oh really?” She questions, then looks at the camera scornfully. “Well if that’s the case then, why don’t you cowards come and say it to my face?!” you swore you could hear Sticks cheering her from behind the scenes. A sense of pride washes over you, and unconsciously, your once solemn and curious expression at the start of the show has become one of enjoyment and pride. Chimp taps something in his ear, listening closely before a grin covers his once serious face. “Well then, you heard her folks!” he quickly yells, stealing everyone’s attention as Amy looks at him confused. “both the audience here and the ones at home, why don’t ya give us a call right now and ask your questions?” The crowd cheers once more, giving positive astonishment to the sudden idea, all while Amy looks at them all dumbfounded, soon then grumbling from embarrassment and sitting back down, looking at Chimp judgmentally.

“What does live mean?” Cubot points to the watermark on the top right of the screen.

“it's pronounced ‘lay-ive’ not ‘lee-ve’.” Orbot replied, yet before he could continue, cubot gasped.  “you mean the TV is ALIVE?!” as Cubot smacks his head in shock, Orbot smacks his own head in disappointment.

The more questions popped, the more furious you got. Every single resident has been asking obscenely personal or arbitrary questions, further adding to Amy’s humiliation. You wanted to do something, you had to do something. You can’t just idly sit by (well, kidnappedly -if that even is a word- sit by) and let them ridicule your friend like this, not when she stood up for you.

“Eggman,” you sighed. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“I’m sorry, do you think you’re a house guest here?” Eggman looked at you mockingly. “Do you really think I do favors for my prisoners?”

“I’m not asking as a prisoner,” you countered. “I ask as a fellow doctor and…” your eyes lit up in quick realization, further adding,” as a fellow fuzzy puppies player.”

He raised a brow, crossing his arms and humming thoughtfully. “go on.”

----

‘It is un-lady like to kill someone with your bare hands on live tv.’

That is the sentence that was constantly echoing through Amy’s mind, holding her rage in a tight disciplinary grip, her hands almost ripping her clothes to shred with the sheer grip she has on them.

Is this truly her legacy? She couldn’t help but think. Is this what all her efforts winded up to? all this time spent on being true to herself, on mastering every skill she admired, all for it to be tied to the stereotypical beliefs of hers that she was constantly running from? Amy was enraged, she wanted to scream, to show them how mad she can get, how easily she can cause a wreckage of chaos with no one being able to stop her fury. And she was certain that Sticks was rooting for her to do exactly that. Burn the set down, smash everything up with your decorated hammer.

But, once again, the sentence echoed. Amy Rose was a lady. She was not a brutish man whom only speaks with their fists, even Knuckles, despite all his stupidity that comes from choosing brawn over brain, still is a gentleman when he wants to be. He still holds enough respect and honor to others that he doesn’t go smashing everything just because he feels like it. He is no brutish man, he was a honourable fighter. Sticks, despite all her ludicrous actions, always has the island’s best interest at heart, and yes maybe she did bite some civilians and possibly gave them rabies but— she still did it as a way of protecting the island, to save the most people she can. She is the reason why the jungle is so rich and luxurious, why it’s still alive and hasn’t fallen prey to the industrial, money hungry hands of businessmen like Chimp. In truth, this is who Chimp is. Not a comedian, not a celebrity, not a host, but a businessman. He follows trends, found a solution to a problem, and has made money off of it. People were craving a talk show of their own ever since seeing one in the abandoned cartoon tapes they found at sea, and Chimp provided them with this service.

Yes, everyone has a role here. Everyone has a part to play, and therefore, Amy can’t break away from her script, even if she wanted to. She needed to act poised and well-mannered. She needed to be a lady.

But god did she really wanna punch Chimp right now.

As more questions came and the more snarky yet polite answers she gave, she was beginning to feel a deep sorrow within her. A sense of hopelessness in the moment. Are all her efforts that unappreciated? Is no one ever going to appreciate the hard work she puts into everything she does? What's the point of doing them if no one will be grateful?

“Our next caller’s name is…Y/n L/n. take it away Y/n, ask Missy over here your inquistive question!” her eyes snap open wide from the mention of her name. Amy’s ear quickly sharpens, giving the camera a dumbfounded glance.

“Thank you, jackass.” Your amused voice goes through the speakers, and a sense of relief, amusement and excitement went through Amy’s heart, her once embarrassed gaze now filled with a sense of admiration, all topped off with a grin as she sees the befuddled expression Chimp wears, all while the audience laughs at the caller’s sheer audacity. “Lady Rose,” you start off, treating Amy with much more respect than Chimp, which makes him pout like an angry child. “ you mentioned something about ‘Interior design’ at the start of the show…well, you see, I have this amazing roommate. She has the best goddamn taste in the world. in fashion, paintings and even interior design, she has shown me the sheer beauty that can be seen in even the most mundane of things…I’m gonna get a treehouse soon and, I really, really wanna impress her…so do you have any good tips I could use?”

Amy couldn’t help but let out a huff of astonishment, looking at the camera gratefully, as if she was looking at you only. She gives a small smile, nods her head and leans back in the chair. “Of course, Y/n. I’ll tell you all you need to know…”

Seeing this as a golden opportunity, Sticks hijacked the technical department of the show, threatening or tying up anyone who tried to kick her out, all while keeping you on call with Amy. The show ended in Amy rambling on and on about her business, the audience finally taking her seriously and asking questions of their own, and soon, the once ridiculing and boring talk show has become some sort of a ted talk for Amy Rose, her dream come true.

------

The night was spent in a terrible, ache-filled sleep. And as you woke up with the worst bed-head known to man, you felt a bit dreadful at the fact that there was still no blue speedy in sight. Eggman, however, was blazing with utter fury, muttering curses to Sonic under his breath as he angrily tapped his telephone, leaving his hundredth voice message to him.

With a bit of a drowsy mind, your thoughts drift curiously into a territory you hadn't thought of before, and soon, you bite the bullet and shoot through the silence. “…how did you get here?”

“by walking up the stairs, obviously.” Eggman grumbled, eyes still glued to the telephone. You give a disgruntled hum at that.

“No..I mean…” you look at him as earnestly as you could. “How did you get here? on this island?”

Eggman froze, the dial soon forgotten as his head snapped back to you, a contemplative expression on his face. “…I…” his tone indicated that he wanted to start his story with utter confidence, to explain an epic tale of a villainous scheme, yet, his tone faltered mid-way, as his brows furrowed and his once manically excited grin turned to a befuddled frown. “…don’t remember..” he muttered as if it was more of a question for himself rather than an answer to yours. “ ..I believe I was..on my ship…yes, I woke up on my ship, and found myself here…” he then gives a thoughtful hum. “strange…how come I can’t remember how I got here?...” he then races to his computer, tapping his fingers away as his eyes scan the screens. You’re not sure what he’s exactly searching for, but, if you were a strange scientist who found themselves on a lost island, the first thing you’d do was look at security tapes within that very ship to see what exactly happened. You guessed Eggman was doing just that. “…nothing…” he gave a hum of displeasure, giving the screen a puzzled look. He sits quiet for a moment, but then shakes his head and waves his hands at you. “it doesn’t matter-“ he quickly dismissed. A little too quick for your taste. “all you need to know is that I got here to conquer the Island, and that petulant hedgehog you call a ‘friend’ is in my way.”

“but…why do you want to conquer the island?”

Eggman gives a pleased hum to your question, tapping a red button on his keyboard. “I thought you’d never ask!” he said in a sweetly villainous tone, sounds of machines clanking and engines running roar at the insides of the counter, which soon slid inside and came back up with… a mock-up mini version of an amusement park?....

“….are you serious?” you looked at him in utter disbelief and quite frankly, deep sense of confusion. “you’re…doing all of this to make an amusement park?”

“not just any amusement park.” He mused, taking out a small egg-shaped billboard he had in his pocket this entire time.” Egg-tropolis!” he neatly puts it on the top of the volcano. “a world of egg-tastically fun rides and robotic wonder! Where everything is a goldmine for mone-well…” he clears his throat. “ a gold-mine and safe haven for children! “

“…couldn’t you just…pick another island?” you proposed, and Eggman looked at you disappointed.

“do you truly think I’m dumb enough to not consider that?” Well, you are dumb enough to plan multiple egregious robot attacks on an island with little to no success all for the sake of an amusement park. However, that’s not something you could tell your captor, not unless you wanted to be turned into a robot yourself. Eggman then sighed. “I already tried to leave this place, but there’s some sort of strange barrier trapping us all inside.”

“…what.” You felt a sense of utter dread and confusion go through you. you weren;t even sure why such a fact was so dreadful for you. you never wanted to leave anyway, did you? then why be so glum that the very choice was taken away from you in the first place? “then..how the hell did I get in?”

“that’s the thing.” Eggman grumbled, once again clicking at his keyboard. “the Island lets anybody in, but nobody out. it’s like it locks itself from the outside.”

Strange. This is all too goddamn strange. There's a sense of hesitance and danger in the pits of your stomach, something that tells you the whole thing goes much deeper than a simple, magical and zany coincidence. Whatever it is, it’s..baffling, to say the least. The more you stay in this island, the less you know about it. you give a tired grumble, head falling back to the cold wall behind you as you watch eggman click away,’he’s probably doing something scientific that I’d never be able to comprehend…’

“here are the top ten ways to walk like a villain!” suddenly blares from the computer’s speakers, eggman quickly taking notes.

You hold back your amused huff.’…or…maybe not.’

----

Tick,tock,tick,tock,

The common and oddly comforting sound of the clock echoes through the lab, all of you watching it in boredom, the two robots tired, you uncomfortable, and eggman deeply agitated. As another minute passes by the clock, moving it’s long stick an inch closer, Eggman shoots up in rage. “where in the world is he?!” he groaned. “he should’ve been here yesterday! What, is he too good for me now? am I not a worthy adversary?” with fury bouncing in each step, eggman tears apart some of his blueprints, grabbing a new one and angrily scribbling on it. “I’ll show that pesky bug who exactly he;s ignoring right now—“

A zap of blue passes through you.

Chills run down your spine, a glimmer of hope igniting with your heart, your tired eyes shot up in sheer shock as you look around the room, your anxiety rejoicing and forming into a tranquil song of peace and amusement as you see your favorite speedster.

Sonic huffed in exhaustion, as if he was actually going quicker than he usually was, actually losing his breath from his sheer speed. His eyes quickly scanned across the room, widened and worried. When it finally lands on you, he lets out a breath, his shoulders relaxing.

“took you long enough!” Eggman growled, grabbing a remote control on the table. “Do you know how much my phone bill is gonna cost now?!”

Sonic rolls his eyes,twisting his shoulders and cracking his knuckles. “I’m not the obsessed rival here, Egghead.” He gets into a fighting position. “let go of Y/n and I’ll consider going easy on your toys.”

Eggman’s eyebrows furrowed, head practically turning red in anger as he grumbled. “ They are not toys.” He then points to you. “and for your information, doctor Y/n here had one of the best captive experiences out there. didn’t you, doctor?”

“zero stars.” You immediately replied, Eggman giving you an offended gasp and Sonic grinning mischievously, eyes brimming with amusement. “ The staff kept asking me dumb questions and the room service was shit. My pillow was on the dirty ass floor.”

 “That explains your hair,” Sonic chuckled.

“---again, you’re not a guest here- you’re a captive.” Eggaman countered back, frowning. “you should see how the other villains treat their captives!”

You give Sonic a glare, though there was a playful glint to it. “ Can it, bluey. I’m not the one who's late here.”

“yeah yeah,” he rolled his eyes. “I have a good reason for it.” he then grins. “It's one hell of a story. you still up for chilli dogs after this?”

“Don’t try to ignore me!” Eggman yelled in annoyance, clicking the red button on his remote. “Let's see if you can even survive long enough to even see the outside world!”

As an army of bots runs across multiple sections of the room to your space, practically invading the entire laboratory in a defensive position, you look at Sonic sternly, a playful smile on your face. “I want those damn chili dogs, Sonic.”

Sonic snickered, putting his hands on the ground,his spikes igniting in electrical blue as he smirks. “Roger that, doc.”

----

You’re not sure how long the fight took, but you do know it was much less than an hour.

It seems like Eggman has completely forgotten what he wanted to do when Sonic got here, since it took so long for him to do so. Enraged and frazzled, he practically swarmed him with random bullshit hoping it could defeat his enemy, but of course, Sonic could easily speed through each and every bot, attacking them with rolling ease. When the dust settled and the last bot just straight up shut itself down to save the pain of being destroyed by the hero’s high kick, Sonic quickly stole Eggman’s remote and broke it, the lazer barriers of your tiny prison fading, your shoulders relaxin from relief, yet then wincing as the strain of the ropes hit you once more. God, your back will be destroyed from this experience, you just know it.

Sonic quickly unties you and gives you his hand. Your muscles cry out in freedom, a relaxed sigh leaving you as you take his hand to stand up, yet soon wobbling down and getting grabbed by him. your legs were like jelly, shocked by the sudden jolts of movement you’ve done after two straight days of none. Sonic looks at you with a  tinge of worry as you apologize sheepishly, holding onto him for support.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked, eyes raking over your form to look for any injuries. You simply shrugged. “not really…unless you can call a bad cup of hot cocoa an attack.” You tried to joke, to lighten up the quieted mood of the place. Sonic smiled, rolling his eyes as he yoinked you up again, much to your shock.

“You can’t walk, and I can’t for the life of me walk slowly.” He argued before you could even mutter your protest, looking at you with a reassuring smile. “I’m just returning the favor.”

You knew what he meant. The day you carried him. you look at him playfully annoyed. “ I was returning your favor, idiot.”

“Well, let's just say this is returning the favor.” He shrugged, giving you a wink and grin. You rolled your eyes, giving up and wrapping your arms around his neck. He wanted to soon bolt out the door, yet your tap on his shoulder made him stop and look at you confused. You motioned for him to turn around, your figure not in front of a defeated and annoyed eggman.

“For what it’s worth,” you gave a small smile. “I enjoyed our conversations, Doctor.”

Everyone’s eyes widened, Eggman and Sonic looking at you with disbelief, the latter even more so than the former. Cubot and Orbot gave each other confused shrugs, unsure of what to make of this. Eggman gives a begrudging hum of approval, turning his head away from you both. “…….likewise, I guess.”

You smiled, and with a nod to the speedster, you were quickly ushered out of the infamous Eggman’s house, and saw the sunset cast over the island.

------

“Would you stop looking at me?! I can’t eat when someone’s staring!” you giggled, a wave of embarrassment jittering through you as you locked eyes with the excited hedgehog beside you. The chili dog in your hands was giving a sense of warmth through the freezing night beside the beach, the waves a calming allure.

“and miss the expression you’ll make when having your first ever chili dog?!” he shook his head, taking a bite of his own chili dog. “This is a once in a lifetime experience, doc! This is even more important than witnessing a baby’s first steps!”

“multiple parents will beg to differ.” You smile, amused by his eagerness for such a mundane meal. He scoffs in reply, crossing his arms. “ Well they obviously never tasted chili dogs. Speaking of which,” he looks at you with excitement again. “cmonnn, doc, don’t make me wait all day. Eat the chili dog! Eat the chili dog!” he chanted.

You quip a brow. “like how you made me wait two days for a rescue?” you acted disappointed, shaking your head and grimacing. “ you’re such a hypocrite speedy…”

He rolls his eyes, smacking his face and groaning a bit in shame and guilt. “I said I’m sorry, ok?” yet, he grins at you, knowing this was mere play. “ If you eat this now, I’ll never be late to your rescue ever again.”

“promise?”

“I swear on it.” he dramatically puts a hand on his heart. “If I’m ever late to your rescue, I’ll never eat a single chili dog ever again. I vow by it." He speaks in a deeply formal tone, unlike his usual carefree and sarcastic one. It makes you giggle, and sonic beams at your lifted mood, despite the troubles you’ve been through these past few days.

“Then I shall remember this vow, Sonic T.hedgeheog,” you give him a cheshire grin, holding a hand on your heart. “Let the record show that my only reason for eating this chili-filled mess is through the vow and promise of a prosperous future, full of rescues and quick speed.” He laughed alongside you, and soon, an exciting silence filled the room as you brought the chili dog closer to your mouth and took a bite.

“….well?” Sonic asked, an edge of excitement and inquisition in his voice. “Do you like it?....”

“it’s….” you chew a bit more, gulping it down slowly, only to further tease him with your answer. You then smiled and nodded your head. “It's pretty good.”

“See?! I told you!” he jumped in excitement, grinning with triumph. “it’s the best kind of hot dog- no, best kind of food, out there!”

“it’s certainly better than a normal hot dog..” you take another bite, savoring the spiciness of the chili. “much better than anything Meh Burger has, I’ll give you that.” You gulped, then nudged his shoulder. “so…anything else happen besides the whole guilt-tripping thing?” After the initial rescue, Sonic brought you back to your shared home with Amy, explaining the reason for his absence in the two days. Apparently, some civilization in the far corners of the island were constantly attacked by robbers, and after saving them, the people guilt-tripped Sonic and Tails into staying for the night, and were planning on making them live as their guardians forever.

“except the stressful event of going through a thousand phone mails Egghead sent me about kidnapping you? “ Sonic sighed, leaning back on the tree. “nope, nothing to tell.”

“..you gotta admit though, the first message was hilarious.” You giggled.

Sonic chuckled, giving you a reluctant nod. “It was pretty bold, I won't lie…”He smiled. “you’re always full of surprise, aren't you,doc?”

You merely shrug pridefully, giving a victorious smile to the roll of his eyes. You lean back on the tree beside him, both quietly listening to the waves of the water as you look up to the sky. Stuck in a river of your thoughts, you take out your phone and sigh.

“What's wrong?” Sonic turns back to look at you better, giving you a curious glance. You hold out your phone to him, showing the lack of battery power left. “it’s on its last breath.” You reply, scrolling through the pictures and messages that have accumulated your phone over the years.

 Sonic looks at you a bit puzzled. “Can’t you ask Tails to fix it?”

“he tried to but..it didn’t work.” It was the first thing you’ve done on your second day here, immediately after noticing the damaged charger, you brought it back to Tails for repair, only for him to look at you apologetically and explain how the parts needed for it can’t be found easily on the island, especially since the electrical outlet and electricity of your device in general is completely different from the one the island uses. You noted to yourself to one day research a bit more about this ever-confusing island, especially since you’re probably gonna live here for the rest of your life, given eggman’s explanation of the supposed ‘barrier’.

“damn..” Sonic gives you an apologetic look, one you quickly shook your head to and tried to ease his worry. “It'll be fine.” You shrugged. “I didn’t really use it much here anyway…the only thing I’ll miss is my songs..” you look back at the screen, a nostalgic feeling resurfacing within you as you click the play button, a song erupting from your phone’s speakers. It was one of your favorite songs, one that made you feel upbeat and energetic, the beat stuck in your brain like a worm, constantly feeling the need to dance to it. like right now.

You swish from side to side at first, nudging Sonic playfully as he huffs in a mix of annoyance and amusement by your actions, then, you grin playfully at him, taking note of the seemingly grumpy mood the ever-so-usually-ecstatic your companion has. You get up, eyes on him as you swish around, dancing with zero coordinance and swaying with the beat, lip-syncing the song terribly as you hold out a hand to him.

“nope.” He shakes his head, then brings his arms up to rest under his neck, getting into a more relaxed position, wanting the action to urge you to give up on this newfound quest of yours. “I’m fine right here.” he gives a fake relaxed hum, closing his eyes, yet peering open one to see if you’ve given up or not, huffing in amusement when he sees your determined insistence.

“cmonnn speedy,” you reenact the tone he had when he urged you to take a bite of the chili dog. “It's not everyday I get to see the sonic the hedgehog dance!!”

“Oh yeah? Well you won’t see it today either.” Sonic smirked at your grumble, snickering as he adjusted himself on the tree. “I don’t dance, doc. Never have, never will.”

“nonsense,” you still continued to sway around a bit with the beat as you continued. “you look like someone who does fortnite dances.”

His eyes widened, looking at you with shocked giddy. “the hell is that supposed to mean?!” he couldn’;t helo but laugh, never expecting you to be one for jabs.

“you heard me, speedy.” You smirked. “Only the people who are shit at dancing are scared to dance. So tell me, speedster, are you a loser at dancing?” you questioned, a hint of competitiveness in your voice. Sonic froze, giving you a begrudging, respectful nod.

“Touche doc…touche…” he mutters as he gets up, rolling his eyes as you outstretch your hands for him once more, grabbing it and letting you pull him to the sand and sway with him. as your favorite part of the song comes, you jump excitedly, looking at him determined as you terribly lip-sync the part with an imaginary microphone in your hand, knowing fully well that you’re the complete definition of cringe. Sonic looks at you amused, a bit impressed and endeared by your walls crumbling down now, feeling comfortable enough to do such silly things next to him. to show his appreciation, he starts trying to dance silly with you, of course, not before checking to see if anyone was watching. With reassurance that no one was within the beach other than you two idiots, he starts dancing and lip-syncing with you, smiling as he sees you giggle in utter giddy and hold his hand as you twirl around, unabashedly and shamelessly enjoying your time with no fear of the consequence. It’s admirable, really. Sonic noticed that you were one who often feared what people think of you, who often felt uncomfortable by the gaze of others, by the judgement of theirs. It was something completely noticeable on your first days here. and yet, in these two months, you’re finally breaking out of your shell. At least, in front of him. and he feels proud, in fact, he feels honored to be the one who witnesses your first ever splash of shameless silliness and tom-foolery, uncaring of who might see you. you feel comfortable enough to do this now.

You feel comfortable enough to do this with him.

You feel comfortable with him.

It's strange how this very thought makes Sonic feel a sense of pride, some sense of accomplishment and gladness for such a fact. But it’s here, warm and fuzzy, making him jolt with the intense giddiness that you were erupting with and now he’s jumping alongside you, terribly lip-syncing next to you as for a moment, he forgets his cool guy, heroic façade, he forgets his own sarcasm, his responsibilities, his self-image and everything around him. In this moment, all that mattered was that life beside you was fun, that you could make even the dumbest of things somehow excitable. He never cared for dancing, always found it boring and a tad embarrassing. Yet with you, it felt fun. With you, he now understood what dance truly is, why people like it so much. As you hold your hand in his and circle around the place, jump up and down and sway left and right with utterly cringe-worthy and non-professional dance moves, the glue of exhaustion he felt these past few days was washed away with the shores, and he was left with you, dancing till the phone’s battery dies out.

To you, you wouldn’t have spent your last remaining phone batteries any other way. This truly was the perfect way to waste it, the best way to say goodbye to your old world, and welcome the new one. with sonic by your side, dancing with you through it all.

---------

“I’m sorry I didn’t save you sooner.” Sonic heaved out, on the ground beside you. both of you were trying to catch your breath, your phone finally died. You nudge him, which he winces at, giving you an annoyed grumble.

“stop apologizing, dumbass.” You smiled, gazing at him softly. “You don’t need to always be the hero.”

He stays quiet at that, eyes slightly widened, yet contemplative and in deep thought, he looks up at the sky once more, taking a deep breath. “..but I do.”

“hm?”

“I do have to be the hero.” He muttered, hand going up to the sky, as if he was trying to reach the stars. He then opened his palm, looking at his gloves thoughtfully. “I mean…everyone wants me to be the hero. The Gogobas, the townsfolk, eggman, you guys….you all want me to be the hero. To save the day.”

“I don’t.” you replied. “I didn’t expect you to save me.”

“but you wanted to, didn’t you?”

You stay silent at that. A pit of guilt forming in your gut.

“that still doesn’t make it right.” you slowly reach out your own hand, having it be next to his. “ That doesn’t mean you have to be the hero. It just means I’m pathetic and I need to learn how to fight for myself.”

“you’re not pathetic.” Sonic argued, hand mindlessly getting a bit closer to yours. “you’re one of the strongest people I know. and these?” he points to the scars on your arm. The ones who you got from eggman’s lasers. “These are proof of it.”

You scoffed, shaking your head, leaning it a bit closer to his. “..don’t change the subject, Sonic.” You feel him jolt, freeze a bit as you see the crack in his ploy. “you’re sweet…but don’t go changing the subject to me. this is about you.”

He stays silent. Only the voice of crickets and waves could be heard as your hands were held up in the sky, as if you were both touching the stars above. His hand slowly comes to hold yours. “….i meant what I said though.” He gives your hand a squeeze. “you’re the bravest girl I know.”

“I saw Sticks once fight a bear.”

“Sticks is crazy, not brave.” He quipped, and you couldn’t help but laugh, turning around and letting both of your hands fall to the ground, still entwined as you lock eyes with him. your amused smile turns into a thoughtful one, tilting your head and peering at him concerned. “….I stand by what I said.” You mumble. “…you don’t need to be a hero. If not to them, then to me. you don’t need to be a hero with me. I don’t want a hero. I want Sonic.”

His eyes widened, breath hitching as he looked at you dumbfounded, one that was laced with admiration. You give his hand a squeeze, then turn around to look at the sky, heart filled with determination. “and I’m not just saying that. I’ll prove it to you, speedy.” You hummed. “I’ll show you that you don’t need to hold responsibility over my safety, you don’t need to feel pressured by me. ever.”

“that’s not—“

“I know, it’s not.” You quickly cut him off. “But you deserve better. And I want to give you something better.”

He stays quiet, gaze never tearing away from you as you stare at the stars, planning and preparing for your goal. He wondered, what was going on in that overthinking head of yours? Is your mind ever tired of thinking? Or is this just normal for smart people like you?

Whatever it was, it made Sonic feel a sense of calm wash over him. a chuckle leaves him, looking back up to the sky, hands still entwined with yours.

“….I’m glad you’re here, doc.”

------A/N-------

*barges into the room all bloody and panting, eyes dead shot and bags under them, twitching like crazy, body shaking maddeningly as she slams some crumbled paper onto the table, then grabs you by the shoulders and looks you dead in the eyes* IM ALIVE. I LIVED. I SURVIVED. IM HEREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE *explodes*

Hi , hello, bonjour, salam, I’m alive, barely. No I did not have a good few years. Nope this break was absolutely not intentional. Yes I missed you all. yes OF COURSE this fic is gonna be continued. No I don’t know when the next chapter will be, ok? Ok.

Ok, so now for the long explanation.

Hello folks! A lot has happened these past few years, and I deeply and sincerely apologize for the late update. I honestly can’t even believe I finally finished this chapter…it feels surreal. This chapter has been in production for like.. three years??? And there are multiple reasons for it.

1-     I’ve been going through a lot lately.like, A LOT. As most of you know, most of y/n’s traumatic experiences root from my own experience, and since I’m a minor, I’m still living in the dysfunctional house I’ve been inspired to write about. Not only that, I began the horrific experience of socializing with fellow peers at the incredibly late age of 15, and now, two years later, I am beginning to remember why I never wanted to socialize in the first place. Senseless drama, non-communicative relationships, and lots and lots of bullying. Now, you may be asking, why was I bullied, well, this leads to

2-      Reason no.2. I have been officially diagnosed with ADHD, depression and Anxiety. Honestly, I’ve known this fact about me for a very, very long time. I noticed how most of my ‘irregular’ actions that my family sees as ‘regular’ are ones that my own father and dad’s side of the family all have, and therefore whenever I tried to explain my mental health issues or basic life issues like not being able to focus well or study like a normal person does, my parents would always undermine it and say I’m merely overreacting. However, after years of fighting, I was finally able to get myself a therapist, and she was so utterly horrified by my test results and conditions that she immediately told my parents to have me checked and medicated lmaooooo. So yeah, after some testing, they found out I wasn’t bluffing. I got all the big three’s from my dad. Adhd, depression and anxiety. This journey of mine caused a lot of mental anguish, because I realize why I always felt so out of place and different from my fellow peers, and I now fully understood why my classmates have been bullying me. it was because I was the ‘weird kid’ of my class. I was the one who often talked to herself, who when overwhelmed with emotions goes around the room walking and muttering to herself (though in front of them, this only happened once. But i'm very certain they saw this as a way of me wanting to get attention or smth and the bad vibes have started since then) I was the weird girl who could speak english way better than her own mother tongue, so she’s definitely just doing it for attention, right? when in reality, I was NOT doing it for attention. I genuinely had a problem with my country's main language, and all my friends and family knew this. but they thought that this was just a way to gain ‘attention’ because in my country, mastering the english language is a very admirable trait. So yeah, my neurodivergency has caused me to go through a lot of mental abuse and sometimes even physical from both my school and my own home. This made me be in a horrible headspace, and for a very long while I stopped writing all together. I couldn’t write a single thing.

3-     I have a terrible, TERRIBLE perfectionist mindset. I often look at something I wrote two weeks ago and cringe. It's usually worse when I notice that the thing I wrote didn’t get much attention. For example, I wanted to write a complete slugterra fic, but since the first chapter didn’t get much attention (and frankly, writing was, it was shit.) I felt anxious and put myself through a lot of pressure into making sure my writing doesn’t falter. This led me into ignoring stranded, because I feared that if I started writing, ill regret what I wrote again and completely rewrite it. this happened a lot of times. Over 10k words have been lost at sea now with all the goddamn rewrites i've done. Not to mention, I somehow got possessed by some writing spirit and wrote over 30k words oneshot for one unpopular character. Obviously, it didn’t get as much attention as I was hoping for (though I did receive incredibly lovely comments) and once again, I felt like shit lmao. I kept thinking that perhaps I am just a god awful writer, that maybe I’m just some cringey loser who's shit at writing and should just never write again. just dumb negative thoughts like that. I’ve began to become incredibly and deeply insecure over my writing, and added with my perfectionist mindset, it just ruined everything.

4-     Life. i've just been so busy with life man. im literally gonna take an exam tomorrow and I didn’t study shit for it LMAO. I'm in my last year of highschool rn, and when I started this fic, I was at..like the start of highschool. So yeah, these past three years I’ve been through hell. Especially since I’m in an art school. It’s been dreadful. I’ve lost all my passion for art as a whole and felt incompetent at drawing and sketching, which are the main basis of getting good at art. There’s also been an abundant amount of pressure on me about my future, since I NEED to get good at art, but I no matter how hard I practiced, I kept coming back empty handed. I felt so useless. I felt like a complete loser. And my teachers and classmates were NOT helping lmao. But now, thankfully, I think im beginning to see some improvement in it. if you guys have any tips, I’d be incredibly grateful.

Ummm anyway if you want more chapters PLEASE COMMENT!! RAMBLE!!!! TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS ON THE CHAPTER!!! I want to personally thank all the dear lovely readers who've been commenting for me to give out an update to this fic. Though yeah some authors think its annoying, I ACTUALLY FIND IT VERY ENDEARING!!!! SO DO THAT!!!! RAHH!!! I love knowing that someone wants to hear more of my silly stories, so thank you so much to all the folks who kept up with me and thank you all SO SO SO MUCH for being patient with me!!! I hope you liked this chapter!!! I promise we’ll have MUCH more sonic interactions in the future. We’re finally digging into the cusps of act 1. Miueheheheehhe I CANNOT wait to write it. THANK YOU ALL FOR READING!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT!!!! BYE!!! OH ALSO IM SO SO SORRY IF THIS CHAPTER SEEMED DRY IT HAD TO BE A LORE-DUMP SO I CAN EASILY WRITE MORE SONIC STUFF IN THE FUTURE. THIS IS A SLOWBURN CHAT IM SORRY LMAOO LRMKLFELKMGRW

[loveinhawkins]

ao3

Steve’s got a soft spot for the Henderson’s Christmas tree—and sure, he’s biased as hell considering he once helped decorate it: a week or so before Dustin’s Snow Ball, he’d gone round to drop off some hair stuff, and ended up hanging baubles on the branches.

It’s not like he planned to; it’s just that he got caught in a festive whirlwind from the moment Dustin dragged him into the house, and then when he saw the tree, he couldn’t just leave it like that—not with a whole section bare right near the top, and the star wasn’t even on yet.

And then he didn’t really notice the time passing as he worked. His main impressions were of a grateful Claudia mouthing, “Thank you,” while stuck on the phone with her sister, followed by a cat constantly getting under his feet.

Dustin found a spare bow on top of a pile of wrapping paper and batted it towards the cat.

“It’s good we have another cat now. Like, it’s good for mom,” he’d said once Claudia was out of the room.

It was delivered in that precocious, self-assured way Steve was already getting familiar with. He knew what it actually meant: that Dustin was really torn up about… what happened to poor Mews.

But neither of them got around to addressing it—not when it was made clear that Dustin was taking the oath of secrecy so seriously; standing there, with the can of Farrah Fawcett spray hidden up his shirt, he looked like a terrible spy doing his best to conceal classified documents.

Steve disguised a laugh by pretending to fiddle with the Christmas lights.

When Dustin was busy putting the star on top, he surreptitiously left a present under the tree. It wasn’t anything big, but still, he didn’t want the kid feeling obligated to get him one in return. That wasn’t what it was about.

A year later, and Steve’s looking up at the same tree—technically, he’s trying not to get jealous over something so stupid: that the star’s already on top, the tinsel draped perfectly. There’s nothing for him to…

It’s just that he liked …

He blinks. Looks again.

“Finally,” Dustin’s saying, shoving a cardboard box into Steve’s hands, “you can finish it.”

And then he steps away, goes into the kitchen to unpack groceries—adds after God knows how long, “Uh, preferably before New Year’s, Steve!”

Steve jolts into action.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says dryly, but it’s just on automatic pilot as he starts unpacking the box of baubles, and the full impact hits him.

That Dustin must’ve made sure these decorations were kept separate. That he’d left a space clear—right near the top of the tree. That he’d waited, just so Steve could…

Before he can hang up the baubles, Steve has to spend a couple moments just standing there, blinking hard.

Dustin pokes his head in after a little while, nods his approval. It’s when he’s reciting the Christmas dinner options to Tews (Steve stifles a snort, this goddamn ridiculous kid) that Steve seizes his opportunity: drops off his present, hidden in plain sight.

Well. It’s tradition, now.

Just when he’s about to reverse out the driveway, Dustin runs to the car.

“Steve!”

Steve winds down the window. 

Dustin grins, sticks his arm through.

“You forgot your card, duh.”

Steve smiles back. “Thanks, bud.” 

And it’s funny, Steve knows that a part of him will probably always see Dustin as twelve. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s getting taller, that the first year of high school is flying by, and Steve almost wants to get out the car there and then—to ask him to stop, even though it’s impossible.

He doesn’t. He just gently places the card in the back. Starts the engine.

He kind of feels like he did when the box of tree decorations was against his chest. A warmth, a catch in his throat—quickly blinked away as if it never existed.

Time’s gonna go on, another year reaching its end; and all of this will get stacked up like superimposed images, so that Dustin will always be twelve, and thirteen, and fourteen, all at once.

But as Steve takes a last look in his rear view mirror, he thinks maybe this one will stick the most: Dustin, waving hugely, scraps of tinsel in his hair.

[meetmypointlessaddiction]

December Fic Day 1 ~ Decorating

Here we go! First day of December and the first fic of my prompts challenge.

Summary: You and Logan decorate the Christmas tree

Warnings: none that I can think of

Pairing: pretty sure this is suitable for everyone (fem!reader/male!reader/gn!reader) but I am still new to writing anything other than fem!reader so any pointers are greatly appreciated.

Enjoy and please like and comment if you do. Something as simple as an emoji literally makes my day better so please don't hesitate to comment and obviously reblog to share my work.

December Masterlist

Christmas was your favourite season, Logan knew this. You didn’t even have to tell him, your incessant begging to decorate the cabin as soon as Halloween was over was enough to let him know. “Logan it is officially Christmas. You can’t tell me no anymore.” You declared as you walked out of your shared bedroom and into the kitchen where Logan was nursing a mug full of coffee, looking over the newspaper. He looked up at you, quirking that stupid eyebrow of his and smirking. 

“Far as I’m aware bub, Christmas is on the 25th, not the first.” You shot him a glare, pouring yourself a drink before sitting across from him at the kitchen table. “Besides, technically, the 12 days of Christmas don’t start until the 25th and run through to the 5th. In fact, in some countries, they don’t start until the 26th and finish on the-.” 

“And of course you’d know that you fucking fossil. Bet you were one of the three Kings visiting baby Jesus huh?” You snarked, huffing and taking a swig of coffee. “I’m just saying, I love Christmas and think that it’s only fair you let me decorate. I’ve waited until December, Lo. I’m already a month later than I usually would be.” 

“Yeah, yeah whatever. You can decorate the place.” He grumbled, sticking his head back in the paper, trying not to let on that he found your little outburst slightly entertaining. “Just nothin’ too over the top alright?” 

“Baby, you think I’m doing it alone? C’mon Lo, this is our first Christmas together, my first Christmas with a serious partner. You gonna let me miss out on all the cheesy traditions like decorating with my boyfriend?” You knew he was going to protest so you shot him your best pouty look, with big sad eyes and he groaned, shutting the newspaper and glaring at you. 

That’s how Logan found himself at a Christmas tree farm, walking hand in hand with you as you mumbled about finding the best Christmas tree and not settling for anything less than the perfect one. “What ‘bout this one, baby?” Logan pointed to a decently sized Christmas tree, plenty of branches to hang decorations on and enough space between the branches that tinsel should fit on nicely. 

“Umm… not quite Lo… keep looking though, yeah?” You gently declined him and he looked at you incredulously as you continued walking him through the rows and rows of Christmas trees. You had just gentle parented him… him! He just shook his head and caught up to you, grabbing your hand again and scowling as he kept his mouth shut, letting you keep pondering over what was the best Christmas tree to pick. 

Twenty minutes later, you found the perfect one, pointing it out to Logan and immediately demanding he stand in front of it and guard it while you went to tell one of the workers. He huffed and stood in front of the Christmas tree, arms crossed and looking as menacing as possible to deter anyone from trying to claim your Christmas tree. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Three hours later, boxes of Christmas lights, baubles and tinsel had been brought in from Logan’s truck and he was now holding a Christmas tree, shuffling from left to right as you directed him on where to put it. “Little more left… no too far, go back a bit…” 

Eventually, he had put the tree in a place suited to your preferences and you grinned, hugging him tightly. “Ooh Lo the tree is gonna look so good! Are you excited to decorate?” Logan smiled at your eagerness and held you against him, kissing your temple. 

“That depends? Are you this much of a neat freak about the placement of baubles and tinsel too?” You just laughed and shook your head, standing in his arms for a little while longer, trying to warm up and just enjoying being with him.

“No, the decorations can be a little all over the place, gives the tree a bit of character, right?” Logan just chuckled and nodded, kissing your lips gently before stepping away. 

“Why don’t you get started on making sure the lights are untangled and working and I’ll go make us a hot drink, alright?” You nodded and he left you to it, heading into the kitchen and boiling some water to make you a hot cocoa and him a coffee.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Logan? I leave the room for five minutes and…” You couldn’t help but burst into laughter as you saw the man scowling and trying to fight off the tinsel. “Baby what happened?” Trying and failing to hold back my laughter as the man looks at me shocked and helpless. Tinsel was wound around his legs and bits were falling off, stuck in his hair and on his clothes. “Wha… how did you get yourself in this situation?” 

He just scowled at you and his eyes pleaded for you to help him. You eventually pulled yourself together and untangled the tinsel from his legs as he grumbled about “evil decorations” and how “even the tinsel was against him”. He let you deal with the tinsel as he opened the box of baubles and began sorting them into piles by colour as you had asked. 

The tree didn’t take too long to put up and then all that was left was the star to put on top. You picked it out of the box and Logan couldn’t help but laugh as you struggled to reach the top of the tree, almost falling into it twice as you stood on your tiptoes. “Lo… wanna do something really cheesy?” Logan grumbled but knew what you wanted him to do, putting his hands on your hips and lifting you so you could reach the top of the tree. “Alright, you can put me down now.” You said to him but instead of doing the normal thing and putting you down on the floor, he dropped you onto the couch, crawling in between your legs and laying himself on top of you, careful not to crush you. 

“No more decorating.” Logan grumbled, resting his head on your collarbone. “Stupid tree had your attention all day. Been neglectin’ me bub.” He teased, looking up at you with a smirk and you just rolled your eyes, flicking his forehead. 

“You had fun though, right? And it looks good?” Logan smiled and shrugged, pressing his lips to yours and laughing as you poked his side. “Logan! You had fun didn’t you?!” 

“I did baby. I had fun.”

Dividers: @coolcatsgraphics

I'm also on A03 :)

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 75 (Nearing Delivery and There's a Fancy Cake!)

As with all her pregnancies, Heather worked hard up to her due date. Running Buttercup Pet Clinic meant very little time off and she was always tired, but she was more confident than ever in her team's ability to hold things down when she took some family leave after delivery.

She'd begun making ambrosia treats to sell, giving a few to Conrad so he'd have them when he returned to the lighthouse. But as ever, he was in no hurry to chase down ghosts and death, and it had been months since the Ambrosia Society's last newsletter. With Heather so close to giving birth and Ash about to celebrate his birthday, Conrad was happiest sticking close to home.

The did pay a quick visit to her family in Henford-on-Bagley, where they picked up a death flower from her mother's last batch so they could start growing a bush on their own. "Thank you for this," Heather said when they arrived. "We're too busy with life and work to wait for our plants to grow, and our upstairs hallway isn't big enough for a cherry tree."

"Take as many as you need," said her mother as River handed her a rare, spiky red and black plant. "It'll be winter soon, and you might want to grow the plant outdoors to give it as much natural light as possible."

One evening, Heather returned home to see a woman peering in one of their windows. "Hello?"

Startled, the woman gave a half smile and rushed toward the square. "The paint job is lovely," she called, but in a moment she was gone.

Inside, Heather found Conrad in the living room watching TV. Right away, he could tell something was bothering her. "What is it?"

"There was a woman looking in our kitchen window."

"What are you talking about?" He jumped up to take a look.

"She's gone. I said hello and I was going to ask her what she was doing but she took off and said she liked our paint job. But I swear to you, she was looking into the house."

"What did she look like?"

"Tall, pretty, blonde hair, black shirt, and she had a Selvadoradian accent...I think."

"Maybe it was a tourist who got lost on their way from the creek," he said, trying to calm her anxious nerves. "I don't think there's anything to worry about, but I'll see if anyone's filed a similar report at the station tomorrow."

They were both unnerved but life went on until it was time to celebrate Ash's birthday. Heather and Conrad were planning to host Harvestfest at home later that week, so they decided to forgo a large party.

"I wish I had the energy to throw something bigger for him," Heather lamented. "But with the Landgraabs in Oasis Springs for the long weekend, I'm happy not to hear Nancy moan about how much sugar you get in a piece of cake."

"He'll just be happy to have the cake," Conrad assured her before he stood to bring Ash to the candlelit dessert - a tiered confection Heather had baked to improve her gourmet cooking skill. "He'll have all the time in the world to hang out with his family and friends, and plenty more birthdays."

Heather smiled as her phone rang. (It was her family. Bad timing made plot!) "Hey Mom, are you guys ready to sing Happy Birthday with us?"

"Of course! Where's the birthday boy? How are you feeling?"

"I feel good. Tired, but good. This one kicks way more than Ash or Jett ever did. It's wild! Oh, they're coming downstairs now."

Conrad brought Ash to the kitchen and hoisted him up, and Ash blew out his candles with a big gust from his small lungs. Conrad, Heather, and her family sang and cheered.

Ash was growing up before their eyes. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

Sorry, psych! Short post coming tomorrow, all about Ash but not technically storyline. I put myself on a time crunch to get certain posts out by a certain deadline I set for me, so I'm squeezing in a quick little Ash hype post to give us a taste without making another post too long and splitting it, pushing certain events past when I want them to post. He'll be a kid tomorrow, I promise!

[arlenianchronicles]

i am OBSESSED with your eldritch au and I will happily give you my firstborn if you share the nsfw eldritch au ideas 👀👀👀👀👀

LETS HEAR HOW THOSE TREES FUUUUUUCK

lmaoo I got these two asks at the same time; whether from the same anon or different anons, thank you regardless!! <333 I shall happily proceed to share my "not safe for eyeballs" eldritch lore lmaoo Please note, I'll be referring to genitalia and such!

First off, the eldritch Elven body is basically like a tree under all those cloth/hair layers, or many branches twisting together to form a tree-ish stickman body XD Their "genitalia" are pretty similar to that of humans, with males having a penis-shaped branch that actually feels pretty fleshy, and females having a vaginal opening of sorts that's also fleshy loll (but they're not restricted to these; I'll get more into that later!)

For regular spice (with or without the intent of having a baby), let's take a male and female eldritch elf and stick them together in a nice glade loll For foreplay, I imagine they'd wrap their branches around each other in a big cocoon thing, like several arms holding each other; then they'd have intercourse - but as their pleasure increases, their branches will grow buds at a rapid rate, and when they finally reach orgasm, the flowers will bloom and petals will burst around them! I'd say it's a pretty good indicator of how satisfied your eldritch partner is XD If the branches wilt, or the buds don't bloom, then you know you messed up somewhere hahaa

When it comes to having human partners, like Beren and Aragorn, it'll basically function the same, with Luthien/Arwen wrapping them up in a branchy cocoon and surrounding them with flowers while they bang underneath it all loll I imagine the intercourse would feel pretty strange at first, since it technically feels like you're riding a tree but it still fleshy, almost like a mix of tree and human? But it still feels good loll

Now, earlier I mentioned that they're not restricted to the genitalia they already have. Let's say Luthien wants to peg Beren into oblivion! Well, she can easily create a "penis" with her branches - and she can peg him while he bangs her, since she can maneuver her branches around him XD Knock two birds with one stone loll

Likewise, if two eldritch guys want to bang, one of them can create an opening (mimicking vaginal or anal, whatever they want); or both of them can do it so they can bang each other at the same time with dick branches XD And the same goes for the ladies! Whatever brings them the most pleasure :D

I think those are all the spicy ideas I have so far! Thanks again for sending the asks so I could share them with y'all hahaa <333

[galaxy-fleur]

what shenanigans do Leon and his babygirl kiddo get up to when Ash is away from home? be it few days and such, how are they spending their time? besides missing Ash something fierce

🥰

This type of family fluff is actually not my strong suit at all, but just for you friendo, have a little 'what-if' one-shot, I hope it brings you some joy :3

~ 2.7k words.

Leon had always preferred warmer weather to cooler one. With no freezing fingers from the bitter winter cold or excessive sweating from the sweltering summer heat, spring was a fantastic season to tinker away on the front porch to his heart's content. The gentle sun rays warming his cheeks, the chirping of the returning birds keeping him company, and the fresh new buds sprinkled on the trees, just about getting ready to bloom after months of rest. Spring always brought with it some semblance of peace.

Though, in comparison, Ashley had always loved Christmas season most of all. But then again, it wasn't her that shoveled all the snow out of the yard every morning after a snowstorm!

...Not that he would ever let her do that, anyways. Heavy lifting was his job, not hers. An ultimatum that he himself has created, but one that he followed resolutely, anyways.

"-Dad! Dad! Could you tell the story for me again?"

The inquisitive little voice reaching out to him didn't really surprise him; he just hummed in acknowledgment while he worked, lazer-focused on the engine placed in front of him. She was always a curious little thing, that one.

"Well good morning to you too, kiddo. Someone sure is excited. What story?"

His bright-eyed, bubbly daughter was the happiest child in the whole world. At least that's what he strived for her to be. He will always be grateful that she was spared any sadness of pain that he knew this world had to offer. All she knew was what it was like to have a big family who adored her like she was the center of their universe. Her biggest problem was having to eat her veggies before dessert. She had more than he could ever dream of, and yet, she deserved more. Though, that's how Leon felt about any kid he saw, really.

He always wished for a world where no innocent person would ever experience unjust sorrow and suffering, but if they did, good and justice would eventually prevail, no matter the odds. Years have passed now since he decided to take a backseat and focus on his family instead of the endless battle against bioterrorism. While he had some lingering regrets - a gnawing sense of responsibility keeping him awake and restless on some long nights - he also knew he wouldn't change a thing. Plus, on most days, he had his hands full, what with taking care of the house and keeping a close eye on his little mischievous girl to keep her out of trouble.

He was happy with his current life, but he was really even more happy for Ashley for being able to achieve so many things she never would have imagined for herself back when they just met. She was the one who had advanced the most in building a happy, fulfilling life for herself. While he was living out his life one day at a time, Ashley now successfully operated her own small, talented team in a modest but welcoming local art gallery, designed to give anyone who wished to visit creative opportunities and a sense of community. It was nice. Seeing her succeed in something she clearly loved. But he was considerably more proud of other things, too.

Against all rules of this universe, Ashley's heart was his. A strong, open-hearted woman that somehow ended up becoming his life partner by her own wishes, sticking by him through thick and thin. He never thought he'd see someone like her by his side one day. Someone unconditionally devoted to him and stopping at nothing just to make him happy. He only hoped he brought her just as much peace and happiness in return. Though that seemed impossible, no matter how much she'd tell him otherwise.

The two of them had technically saved everyone all those years ago by stopping Saddler's plans in their tracks, but most importantly, they saved themselves. Together, they had been able to live out their own 'happily ever after' without reflecting on the past regrets. Because they were the ones who had transformed everything for each other. It felt like a happy ending to some fairytale, really. The cutest little troublemaker he has ever seen in his life, Sophie, entered their lives like an unexpected hurricane - one that was born out of love rather than fear. With freckles dancing across her chubby cheeks and disheveled dark hair tied in two braids.

She was without a doubt Leon's favorite child. It didn't matter that she was his only child. He'd sing her praises 'till his dying breath if he could. He probably will, all things considered. No matter how long it took, he always offered to watch her while Ashley was away. It became only natural for him to take over the household chores and all the other domestic duties overtime. He liked being the caretaker of the house. Even if he did get some odd looks sometimes, more often than not being the only man watching his kid at a playground full of moms and nannies.

Frankly, he wished more men were proud to show off their kids, but that's a talk he usually saved for late night rants with his spouse.

Ashley was busy overlooking an upcoming workshop today, not too far from the porch where he was working, but far enough away that Sophie couldn't follow after her. She watched him screw another bolt into the mechanism, sitting herself down on the ground close to him.

He supposed a 'mechanic' didn't sound as badasss as 'federal agent', but hey. This job was more enjoyable than he had anticipated. Keeping his hands occupied repairing malfunctioning machinery allowed him to concentrate and think clearly. Plus, he never did mind getting his hands dirty.

Sophie was now looking up at him eagerly, and he wasn't startled at all by the sight once he stopped to see what is it that she wanted from him. To grab his attention, she appeared fully prepared to pull on his sleeve for a long time. And she most likely would.

"How you met mom! Duh!"

Leon shook his head, laughing fondly: "...Your mom told you that story already though, didn't she?"

She shook her head, looking almost frustrated with his lack of understanding. He was aware that Ashley had given her some information about it, but not all of it. She was far too little to understand what had actually happened to them. Hell, it's a story they usually tended to avoid with any new acquaintances, too. Not for any grim reason, but simply because of how... bizarre it all was.

Nevertheless, since their meeting made headlines worldwide, they would need to speak on it with her someday.

"Nuh-uh. Mom always says that she met you in a castle but you always say that you met her in a church! One of you is a big liar."

Perceptive, she was. However, he just snorted in mild amusement at her pouty cheeks. She undoubtedly inherited her mother's stubbornness in getting what she wants. Not that he minded. He liked her fiery attitude. He tapped his chin in thought.

"So we told you different stories, I see. That must have been frustrating to you," he said as Sophie nodded her head. He set down his wrench, removed his gloves, and wiped some sweat off his brow. In any case, he needed a little break just about now. He might as well indulge her. "Well... Sweetheart, we were both telling you the same story, actually. While your mom prefers to concentrate on the minor details, I start at the very beginning. Because we can't agree on where the story should begin, we end up with it all muddled up. Pretty stupid, ain't it?"

Sophie gave him an enthusiastic nod, agreeing with his judgment.

Wow, harsh.

"Yeah! Does that mean that you will tell the truth now though?"

"Depends on whether you'll remember the magic word..."

She gave him those puppy dog eyes that ought to be considered a weapon of psychological warfare as she pulled on his shirt. Though, she was likely too young to understand that yet. Thankfully. "Could you tell me? Pretty please?"

Leon pressed his lips together, thinking about what he should say to her here. He hummed for a moment, then raised the girl off the ground, to what she squealed and laughed gleefully in his arms. Ashley was occupied talking to a small group of folks in the distance as he glanced over the front porch, putting Sophie on the edge of his work desk. They appeared to be in an another universe altogether. Seeing her so tall and self-assured, pursuing her passions with no hesitation, made him feel a surge of pride in his chest.

But he had to humor his daughter, so he will have to admire his wife at a later date. So he returned his focus back to Sophie. He couldn't exactly say no to her, even though he wasn't as skilled at this as Ashley was.

Improvising it is, then.

"...Once upon a time, in a prosperous kingdom, there lived a beautiful young princess. She wasn't sure of her place in her home, so she spent a lot of time traveling her land in search of her true destiny. Then, one day, the princess was stolen away. She had gotten lost from her dear father one day on one of her travels. She wasn’t sure where she was or how to get home again... but she found herself locked away by some very bad and scary people. There was a dangerous wizard in charge of this new, dark land. He made her stay there because he wanted to spread his evil magic throughout the entire world. The princess was scared she couldn’t leave... but she stayed strong, waiting for someone to come save her."

As Sophie listened carefully to his story, she let out a tiny gasp, her blue eyes wide. At least it appeared that he wasn't performing as poorly as he had anticipated. Usually, he would unintentionally reveal a graphic detail or two that would make Ashley glare at him for a good minute.

"What did she do?"

He smiled to himself, continuing: "She waited... and waited... but nobody could find her. She felt scared, but she did her best to stay hopeful. Until one day, someone new walked into the lost land. Someone from her kingdom. It was a knight sent by the king, the princess' father, and he was sent there to find her and bring her back home. But the dark wizard cast the same horrible spell on him as he did on the princess."

"Oh no!"

Her reactions were so passionate that he had to actively force himself not to laugh. It was undoubtedly boosting his ego, just a little. His narration began with a slightly rigid tone, but as he continued, he channeled his inner storyteller, growing more emotional.

"Finally, the knight found the lost princess locked away in a church, and he promised her to get her home safe. The princess wasn't alone anymore. They spent a lot of time together traveling through the dark land... walking through the castle and smiling for the first time in a very long time. The princess was kind to the knight in a way that he hadn’t seen in a long time, since for years, his only company had been his old mentor that disappeared a while ago. The knight felt happy... he was happy to see the princess smile at him." He paused, looking at Sophie playfully for a bit. "...Not bored yet, soldier?"

At his assumption, she huffed and shook her head: "I'm not! Keep going, what happened next?"

He chuckled but made no more effort to push back.

"The dark spell that was cast on them was dangerous. It made the princess hurt the knight against her will. The wizard cast that same spell on everyone in his land! That's why it was so dark and dangerous. This land used to be just as beautiful as the one they came from, but it was corrupted by the wizard's evil magic." Sophie let out another loud gasp from her side as she listened carefully. Leon continued: "The knight knew they had to break that spell before going back home. But they couldn't do it alone. Thankfully, they met another mysterious traveler on their journey... And he knew of a way to get rid of the spell! The knight did not trust this stranger at first... But he risked his life to save them. The mysterious traveler was punished for trying to help them. And it was none other than the knight's old mentor!"

"What!? How?" Sophie exclaimed, leaning forward towards him, making him lay a gentle hand on her chest to not let her tumble off the desk in her enthusiasm.

"Yes. It was him who captured the princess from her kingdom. The brave knight was at a complete loss. But before his mentor could strike him, the traveler gathered his fading strength to protect him. He fought back with a bravery fit for a true, righteous knight. So, the knight decided to honor the mysterious traveler for his heroic sacrifice. He may have been just a suspicious stranger when they met him... but he was a true, fine knight at heart. From then on out, the brave knight was fighting for the honor of the lost knight as well as the princess."

With a thoughtful look on her round face, Sophie nodded: "He sounds like a nice person."

Even though she was much too young to perceive it, Leon's smile turned more melancholy this time around: "...He was."

With a little sigh, he brushed the memories aside and continued his tale.

"So, the knight set out to find the princess before the wizard's dark spell would consume her completely. There were many dangerous traps set out by the wizard and his old mentor to stop him from getting to her in time. They made him fight monsters, magic, and even a giant fish! But the princess fought against the wizard's dark magic, too. She fought very hard to protect the knight just like he fought to protect her. And after a long fight... the princess and the knight defeated the spell can't upon them, destroyed the evil wizard, and escaped from the lost land! They could go back to the kingdom where the princess' father was waiting for her and reunite."

Sophie looked from Ashley back to him. She seemed to be processing what all that meant. Even at the age of five and a half, she was always aware of the smallest details. "So... you and mom escaped from the lost land... and got to stay together?"

He nodded slightly and stroked a few unkempt curls away from her forehead. "Well. Not immediately, no. But we escaped that dark land, and your mom got to see your grandpa again. I was happy to see them reunite, and I was grateful that the she had saved my life. Even if she... didn't know that. We went through a lot in that dark land... but if we hadn’t, we wouldn’t be living in this house we have today. It may have been a super scary story, but it has good sides too, princess. Your mom's living in her happily ever after of that story."

Sophie hesitated, then looked straight through Leon as though she could see the secrets he had hidden deep in his heart. "But, dad, isn't it also your happy ending? If mom didn’t get captured, then you never would’ve met her! And mom says that you made her very happy too. It's like you saved each other!"

When she said that, his heart twisted, but he managed to hide it by laughing. He always told himself this was Ashley's story first and foremost but... Sophie had a point. It was also his story. This was also part of his life. "...You’re right, kiddo. Y'know, with brain like yours, you just might grow up into a real genius! Why don’t we go out there and join your mom now, hm? I heard she should bring back some snacks..."

And with that, her attention was successfully diverted. She was already yanking at Leon's shirt nonstop as he assisted her in jumping down from the desk safely. "Mom! Not fair!"

As they walked, he looked down at her with a sly smile, sending a wink her way.

"...Just pout at mom for a while and she’ll let you get some extra. Don't tell her I said that, though. I'll get in trouble."