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clumsybriar · 4 months ago

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Ghost x Wife! Reader — Love at First Sight

Notes: This was written after My Pretty Girl but is a prequel to it almost like how they met! I am working on more with these two so keep an eye out!

Word count: 5,189

Warnings: none just cute

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(Y/n) looked at the books stacked on a rack still needing to be put back in the location they belonged. She felt like this would take entirely too long to put away, but this was what work was left as she worked the evening shift.

She was the only worker other than one other college student who just checked people out with the books they selected.

It was often quiet with the usuals coming in, but they didn’t have many people in the evening. Everyone was either shopping or going out to eat.

(Y/n)’s stomach growled as she looked up at the tall shelves she would have to use a ladder to reach. She wished right now she could go out and eat at that restaurant down the street that had the best chicken noodle soup that she craved in this fall weather.

She quietly grabbed the ladder pushing it to the far right where she slowly started to climb up with the three books.

She kept herself steady that way she didn’t fall off break a limb or worse.

She slowly put the books away, unaware of the commotion that happened behind her. She was zoned in and had no idea people were being ushered out of the library due to a bomb.

She was just zoned in on her work.

She never heard the loud British voices barking orders to civilians and other soldiers. She never heard the loud boots on the library’s granite flooring. It was as simple as that, she was just zoned in coming back down to grab a few more books.

Her sneakers squeaked on the glossy floors as she turned around grabbing another stack of books. She hummed quietly as she talked her lips trying to remember exactly where the authors she was looking for were located.

“Miss,” a calm British voice pulled her out of her concentration. Her eyes darted to him as she stared at him wide eyed and a bit jumpy since she didn’t expect him to be there at all.

This was a perfect example of a deer in headlights about to get hit. Who was the deer and who was the car was for a later debate.

“Oh my god!” (Y/n) clutched her heart as she looked at the man with a skull mask on his face.

Who was he? Why was he here? Why did he have all this gear and a gun? Was he robbing the library?

All these thoughts just kept going on through her mind as she looked at Simon with a bit of deer and nervousness.

She was just a nervous little thing anyways, with anxiety and the need to hide and paint all day. Seeing a man with a skull balaclava was not in her bingo card for the day.

Seeing her jump, Simon's expression softened even more. A rare flicker of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he said, his voice smooth and gentle.

He approached her, his footsteps slow and measured, as if trying to not further startle her. He extended a hand to her, an invitation to stay put for a moment. "Are you alright?" he asked, genuine concern in his eyes.

“M’okay,” she nodded as she took a deep breath. “Can I help you?” She remembered her hospitality with guests to the library, especially new ones. “Is there something you’re looking for or am I missing something here.” She squeaked out looking at his uniform and gun.

Simon's lips curled into a small, almost boyish smile at her words. He found her politeness endearing, a stark contrast to the usual gruffness he encountered. "You're the helpful type, aren't you?" he said, his voice still gentle and amused.He took another step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'm here with my team," he explained, gesturing casually behind him. "We've got a bit of a situation we're dealing with."

“Uhhh,” there it was, her brain shut off as she looked around confused. “Situation? Okay…” she trailed off as she thought for a second. She watched as another soldier, a Scottish one came around the corner pulling the man who was talking to her away for a second.

She looked around confused trying to see if anyone was still in the library.

She looked at the checkout area and found her co-worker missing from the area

“Thanks for telling me there were scary soldiers here, Laney!” (Y/n) thought.

As Soap practically dragged Simon away for a quick discussion, his gaze remained fixed on (Y/n), his eyes lingering on her for a few moments before he had no choice but to turn away. Soap started talking, but it took a moment for Simon's mind to process the words.

"What, Johnny?" he snapped back, realizing Soap was speaking to him.

Soap raised an eyebrow, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Mate, you're drooling," he teased, noticing how Simon had been staring at (Y/n). “Does the lassie have you droolin’ like a dog, LT?”

“Im not droolin’,” Simon huffed. “Ya’ find the bomb yet you git?”

“Found it alright LT, like me to disarm it as fast as I can?” Soap smirked as he looked back at (Y/n) giving her a wink.

She flushed red and looked away as Ghost gave Soap a sharp stern glare.

“She's cute.” Soap laughed, as he looked at Simon. “Can’t blame a man.”

“I can and I will, back off.” Simon snapped.

“Oh I see,” Soap hummed. “Backing off, LT.” Soap raised his hands in surrender.

“Disarm it,” Ghost snapped, his gaze stern.

Soap chuckled, understanding he had hit a nerve. "Alright, alright, I'll disarm it," Soap quipped, his tone still light-hearted. The sergeant was out of sight back to the bomb as he went to complete his task.

Simon’s soft gaze was back on you as he reached his hand out to you. “Come now, love, you gotta leave the building.”

(Y/n) blinked in surprise as Simon took her hand, his touch gentle but firm, guiding her. The nickname "love" sent a flutter through her, and she couldn't help but look deep into his brown eyes. "I...I have to stay. I'm on shift," she said quietly, her voice soft and hesitant. It was a weak protest at best as she found herself wanting to stay near him.

On top of that she was cursing herself for even saying that, but she had no idea what was going on. She had no clue or no idea that a bomb was in this building willing to blow at any second.

Simon couldn't help the warmth that spread through him as he heard her protest, the way her voice was so hesitant and soft. He tightened his grip on her hand slightly, his gaze never leaving hers.

"I understand, love," he said, the nickname rolling off his tongue with such natural ease. "But trust me, you don't want to be around when we disarm this thing. It could get a bit messy."

“Disarm?” She sputtered out looking at him confused, “a bomb?” She uttered.

Simon's expression sobered as he realized he hadn't fully explained the situation. He gave a small nod, his eyes locking onto hers in earnest. "Yes, a bomb," he confirmed, his tone a mix of seriousness and reassurance. "That's why we're evacuating the area. But don't worry, we'll take care of it. We're trained for this sort of thing."

“I could imagine.” She looked embarrassed. How come it didn’t click in her head earlier they were soldiers and were here for some threat. “I am so sorry, it’s been a long week.” She uttered. A long week of staying up until 4 am trying to paint her final for her still art project. She was struggling to feel anything for that final. Her confusion clearly came from the lack of sleep though and her problem solving skills were lacking too because of the little to no sleep she had. “I feel a little dumb for not registering the situation as to why you might be here.” She rambled embarrassed. Her hand rubbed her forehead as she smiled embarrassed, her eyes looked around darting at different things in the library.

Simon's tough exterior softened as he watched her ramble on, her embarrassment only adding to her charm. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "No need to apologize," he said gently. "Sometimes the obvious can slip right by us when we're too focused on other things."

There was an unspoken understanding between them, a mutual acknowledgment of the connection they were starting to feel.

“How come he’s soft with her and he’s been barking orders at us all day,” Gaz huffed as he watched Simon slowly guide you to the exit. “I don’t feel the love Captain.”

“Kyle, get to work.” Price laughed as he looked at the sergeant. “He’s in love, leave him be.”

“A big ol lovey-dovey of a teddy bear.” Soap interjected as he looked at the bomb studying it.

“I’m tellin’ him you said that.” Gaz smirked.

“I’ll be dead by sundown.” Soap nodded.

Simon knew one thing, he wanted to marry this woman and as fast as he could.The realization hit him hard, like a freight train crashing into his thoughts. He had always prided himself on being focused, on maintaining a certain level of detachment. But she had managed to break through his defenses, knocking down the barriers he so carefully placed around his heart.

In that moment, as he stood with her, holding her hand in his, Simon's mind was made up. He wanted her, wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything else in his life.

For weeks Simon was distressed when he wasn’t able to find her again. He wished he could have gotten her number or asked her on a date but as soon as the bomb was diffused and everything was under control they were called back out to another mission.

But Simon didn't forget about her. In the quiet moments of the night, when the mission and the chaos of life had momentarily subsided, his thoughts would drift back to her. He could still remember the way she looked at him, the way she felt in his grasp, and the soft sound of her voice as she fumbled her words.

Simon was a patient man, but the wait was getting harder each day. He yearned to see her again, to hold her close, and to tell her how much she had unexpectedly changed his life.

He had fallen so helplessly in love with her as if he was just meant for her.

Luck was on his side though he knew that much. Who knew a month later he would find her attending the same wedding.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“You want me to walk you down the aisle?” (Y/n) looked at her cousin's soon-to-be-wife surprised.

“Yes,” Farah nodded her head with a sweet smile on her face. “Alex and I have talked, my brother and family are all gone, we want you to be the one to walk me down the aisle and be beside me as we get married.” She hummed. “You’ve accepted me like I’m your own sister and I trust you.”

(Y/N) felt a rush of emotion as Farah spoke. She didn't know if she was worthy of such a role, but she couldn't bring herself to reject Farah's heartfelt request.

"Oh, Farah..." (Y/n) began, her voice filled with an emotional waiver. "If you would like me to walk you down the aisle, then I will gladly.” She sniffled.

“You made her cry.” Alex chuckled.

“Shut up Alex!” (Y/n) huffed. “I’ve always been emotional, you know that.”

Alex sat beside her as he hugged her tightly. “I know, that’s what we love the most about you.” Farah didn’t hold off as she jumped into the hug as well.

When it came to walking her down the aisle (Y/n) looked at Farah and smiled. Her Abaya was so beautiful and her make up was natural.

“Oh Farah, you're so beautiful.” (Y/n) exclaimed as she looked at the beautiful bride.

“You think so.” Farah said, showing a bit of nervousness. Who wouldn’t be? This was such an important day.

“I know so.” (Y/n) smiled, reassuring the woman. “Alex will ball his eyes out and then we can call him emotional later.” (Y/n) teased gently.

“That sounds like a perfect plan.” Farah giggled softly. The two straightened up when the music started playing, leading for (y/n) to open the door as she started to walk Farah down the aisle.

Guests were seated all over the place as they stopped and looked at the two women. They were gaping at the beautiful bride as they should be. Farah was gorgeous. But one person couldn’t keep his eyes off of (Y/n). A month of being tormented by her in his dreams Simon was finally able to lay his eyes on her once again.

Simon's heart skipped a beat as his eyes landed on (y/n), walking down the aisle beside Farah. It was a sight to behold. His breath caught in his throat, his mind racing as he tried to process the wave of emotions crashing over him.

He had been waiting so long to see her again, and here she was, looking even more beautiful than he remembered. He couldn't tear his gaze away from her, his heart pounding against his ribcage. It was a whirlwind of emotions and he couldn’t contain himself as his eyes were set straight on (y/n).

He couldn’t believe his luck, from thinking he would never see (Y/n) again to seeing her a month later at Alex and Farah’s wedding.

Simon had barely been able to contain his excitement as he watched (Y/n) walk down the aisle with Farah. It felt like fate had stepped in and given him a second chance. As he sat in the ceremony, the significance of the moment settled in his mind.

He watched (Y/n), his gaze flickering over her again and again, as if trying to make sure it was really (Y/n) and not just a figment of his imagination. Throughout the ceremony, his eyes remained fixed on her, filled with a mixture of disbelief, excitement, and an undeniable connection.

He knew she wouldn’t recognize him as he was adorned in a mask the first time he met her. He wasn’t sure how to make her recognize him, but he knew he had to do something.

As the wedding progressed and the ceremony began Maria stopped Simon as she fixed his suit and tie.

“Now, lad, put yer’self together, she’s a cutie.” Maria gave him a prep talk like the mother she was. “Don’t be like John and put a little effort into it.”

“I put a lot of effort into it.” John corrected as he looked at his wife. He was a tad bit offended it seemed, but still it was very clearly obvious he loved his wife even with the comments she made about his lack of apparent effort.

“Mr. Price,” Maria looked back at him.

“My wife is correct,” John cleared his throat, backing off.

“She’s been painting for a while.” Soap hummed as he looked at (y/n).

“She’s painting a scene from the wedding.” Maria smiled. “I scoped the area for Simon already,” Maria nodded, “gotta see the lad get married and this little lassie is the one.”

Simon snorted as Maria was already exploring the area. Of course she was, she was a bit nosey too like the others, Gaz and Soap had been trying to get a better peek at her.

“Tell her she’s pretty, and ask her if she’ll dance with you.” Maria patted Simon’s chest as she had him all out together.

He glanced over at (y/n) seeing her giggle with Alex and Farah as the two hovered around her watching her paint.

“Alex.” She gasped as she looked at him. “Don’t touch the paint.” She snorted. “It’s oil, it won’t dry for months sometimes,” she shooed him away. Ghost smiled as he watched the woman stand up to the tall American.

Simon glanced at Maria, his expression torn between gratitude and trepidation. He appreciated her support, but the thought of approaching (y/n) was nerve-wracking. He wasn't used to expressing his feelings, especially in such a vulnerable way.

"You make it sound like it's an easy task," Simon retorted, his voice dripping with his usual stoicism, but there was a hint of uncertainty beneath it.

“It is an easy task, dear.” Maria dusted his shoulders off as she smiled at him nodding. “Just approach and ask for a dance.” She brushed off his worries.

Simon took a deep breath, steeling himself with Maria’s words of encouragement. He knew he was overthinking things, but when it came to you, he found himself second-guessing every move he made.

"Alright, alright," he muttered, straightening his suit. "Just ask her for a dance. How hard can it be, right?"

“Right!” Maria gave him a thumbs up. “Look at that John, our oldest is spreading his wings.”

“We adopted them, didn't we?” John looked at his wife deadpanning. He had three kids of his own, he didn’t need three more, grown adult kids.

“We did,” Maria said so proudly.

“Of course we did.” John hummed. “Course we did.”

He found it impeccably hard. He was fearful to approach, afraid he would muck up something. Each step he took towards (y/n) felt laborious, his body tensed with nerves. With every stride, he mentally practiced what to say, how to say it, and how to navigate the situation. He was acutely aware of the fact that he rarely put himself in such vulnerable positions, and it made his blood thrum with a mix of excitement and fear.

As he approached (y/n), he tried to maintain his usual stoic facade, but there was no hiding the way his heart was drumming against his chest.

But then he walked right past her and grabbed a whisky from the bartender as he looked more afraid than anything else. He was sure he was terrifying to look at with his scars from war and his stoic look that adorned his face.

“Oh how smooth,” he uttered as he grabbed the whisky and downed it in one swig.

She was so pretty and he wanted to make sure it was perfect. It had to be! It had to be perfect!

He scolded himself silently for being so afraid. He had faced battles, enemies, and death, yet here he was, intimidated by the chance to talk to a gorgeous woman.

He turned to the bartender and requested another drink, his gaze flickering over to where (y/n) was sitting, painting a beautiful picture. He downed the second drink even faster than the first one, trying to summon the courage he usually had in abundance.

“Having a tough time with something, Lieutenant.” Farah surprised him as she peered up at the tall man.

Simon almost jumped at the unexpected sound of Farah's voice behind him, his already heightened senses amplified by his current state. He quickly turned, his expression schooled into the usual stoicism, but Farah could see the hint of vulnerability beneath it.

"No need to sneak up on me like that," he replied, a bit gruff, but his words lacked their usual edge.

“My bad, my bad,” she smiled softly. “What’s got a lone wolf like you so flustered?” She smirked as she looked around the wedding venue.

Simon let out a frustrated sigh, knowing Farah could see right through him. He fidgeted uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the venue as if hoping for a distraction, but there was none.

"It's nothing," he mumbled, his voice barely above a mutter. But he knew that Farah was persistent and would pry it out of him eventually. He took another sip of his drink, stalling for time.

He had no time when Maria took it into her own hands marching up to (Y/n) with a sweet smile on her face. Simon felt his blood run cold. Farah watched as Alex was pulled from his conversation with his cousin as Maria made her presence known.

“Oh dear god,” Simon groaned. “Put a bullet in my head now Farah.”

Simon's anxiety skyrocketed when he saw Maria approach (y/n), his mind racing with the possible outcomes. He took another swig of his drink, as if it could somehow quell the nerves, but it did little to ease his worries.

"I should never have let her talk me into this," he grumbled, his eyes locked on Maria and the woman as she initiated the conversation. "This is a disaster waiting to happen."

“You have a thing for Alex’s cousin?” Farah hummed. “How do you know her?”

Simon glanced at Farah, his expression betraying a mixture of surprise and resignation. He'd been caught in the act by Farah, and there was no use hiding it now.

"We met before," he muttered, his voice low. "During a situation..." He didn't elaborate, but the memory of that day was still fresh in his mind, the sight of (y/n) etched in his mind like a permanent image.

“Tell me how you met my antisocial cousin-in-law.” Farah giggled. “Alex is always trying to get her away from her college classes and getting her out to meet people.”

Simon chuckled softly at Farah's description of (Y/n) as "antisocial," and it struck a chord in him because he found her shyness endearing. He took a deep breath before recounting the story of meeting her.

"It was during a...bomb threat," he said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "We were called in to evacuate a library and disarm a bomb. She was there, working her shift, and...well, I couldn't take my eyes off her since then."

The memory of meeting (Y/n) was still fresh in his mind, and it played in his head like a film reel. Every glance, every touch, every word she said remained vivid in his memory. He could recall the way she looked, the way she smiled, the way she fidgeted—everything about (Y/n) that had managed to captivate him.

Then (y/n)’s eyes met his as Maria pointed him out. He couldn’t help but bristle at the fear of her hating the way he looked. As it was the last time she had seen him, he was in his mask and clearly doing work.

His heart hammered in his chest as he tried to maintain his composure. He was only failing as the heat rose to his cheeks and his stoic mask faltered. His eyes met (y/n)’s and the connection felt instant.

When her eyes met his, Simon felt a jolt of electricity run through him. The sound of the guests and the buzz of the venue faded into the background, and all he could focus on was the sight of her. "My pretty girl," he murmured to himself. He couldn’t look away. His eyes were locked into hers and she was locked onto him.

For months she had been plagued by the man who helped her at the library, and this man had the same shape as him. As it was she had recognized the sergeant that had talked to him while she was stuck in her daze of confusion. Johnny, was that his name? That’s what she thought it was. She had recognized his blue eyes and Mohawk, but the man with the skull balaclava had been a mystery to her. She often dreamt of his voice. Hearing it constantly in her dreams.

“Mr. Riley, get your arse over here.” Maria called to him as Farah giggled and pushed Simon forward.

Simon let out a resigned sigh as he heard Maria call out to him, knowing that he couldn’t back out of it now. He steeled himself, taking a deep breath as Farah gave him a small nudge forward.

"You're enjoying this a little too much," he grumbled, shooting Farah a sidelong glance, before making his way over to (y/n) and Maria.

Alex stood to the side smirking knowing exactly what Simon was going through.

“He’s as daft as any man, trust me my dear, but he has had his head in the clouds since you walked Mrs. Keller down the aisle.”

(Y/n) was too distracted as Simon looked away bashfully. She felt her heart beat out of her chest. “Mrs. Keller?” She questioned quietly as Alex chuckled.

“We’ve lost her, give her a second to catch up.” Alex hummed knowing how introverted and anxious she was. Her anxiety zoned her out and made her mind a muddled mess. She was currently just that, a muddled mess. Who could blame her, she had Simon standing before her and he was a very attractive man, and most likely the man who saved her that day. His sweet and kind attitude towards her made her heart swell and she couldn’t take him off her mind.

Simon chuckled softly at Alex's remark, his eyes flickering over to (Y/n), taking in her confusion. It was endearing how she was so lost in her thoughts, and he couldn't help but find it adorable.

He stood there, quietly waiting for her to process the situation, his eyes never leaving hers. The sight of her looking so overwhelmed yet so captivating made his heart skip a beat.

“Farah, Mrs. Keller.” (Y/n) came out of her daze . “What was the question?” She gulped.

“Hasn’t been a question yet.” Alex patted her back, “you're too cute.”

“Here’s a question.” Maria smiled as she tugged Simon forward. “Would you dance with him? He’s sweet, and he’s kind, and he’s handsome.”

Alex and Farah clutched to one and another as they waited for your response.

Simon felt his ears grow warm at Maria’s blunt compliment, his cheeks flushing ever so slightly at her words. He looked at (y/n), his expression a mix of anticipation and hope, waiting for her response.

He couldn’t deny that he desperately wanted to dance with her, to hold her close, and to make sure she knew he had been thinking about her since the library.

“Yes.” It was quick but quiet answer (y/n) gave.

Maria kept rambling on. “He saved you at the library, at least that’s what Little Johnny has been saying.” she hummed slightly. “said he couldn’t take his eyes off of you the entire time, Simon isn’t like that, he strives to be concentrated at work, but you my dear distracted him. I’m afraid so…” she paused as she looked at (y/n). “Wait, yes…yes! oh yes!” Maria was ecstatic.

Simon's heart pounded against his chest as he listened to Maria's words. He could feel himself blushing profusely, a rare moment of vulnerability in front of others. He averted his gaze from (y/n), suddenly bashful.

He had been trying to hide his fascination since the library incident, but it seemed like he hadn't done a great job, as Maria was making it abundantly clear.

“Well then,” (y/n) said softly, almost embarrassed. Simon couldn’t make out if she was embarrassed by his fascination or something she had said or was going to say. Needless to say it was the ladder. “I’m glad I wasn’t the only one with the fascination.”

Simon's head turned back sharply at her words, his heart skipping a beat as he processed what she had just said. The room seemed to fall silent for a moment as he let her words sink in, his eyes locked onto hers.

He felt a mix of relief and surprise that she had confessed to also having a fascination with him. It was a revelation he hadn't been prepared for, but it was one that filled him with a sense of hopeful anticipation.

“Well then, we will leave you two…be,” Maria smiled.

“Oh! A secret piece of information,” Alex leaned forward looking at the two. “Just in the garden, there’s a beautiful place to be.” He winked at the two.

“What does that mean?” Simon asked, looking down at (y/n). His eyes softened at her.

“I don’t know,” (y/n) uttered. “I don’t speak his language sometimes.”

“Get away, get away,” Farah laughed as she pushed him away. “I think he meant there is a good secluded place to dance.” She giggled as she took her now husband away from the two.

“Oh,” Simon and (y/n) said in unison. The two looked at each other surprised and then giggled.

“Shall we go dancing then.” Simon hummed. “My love.”

“Yes,” Simon's heart leapt at her soft agreement. He gently took her hand, his rough palm against her soft skin. He led her towards the garden, the crowd around them fading into the background. The music was just loud enough to hear but not enough to take away from the two of their conversations,

As he wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her closer, he couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He had dreamed of this moment for a month now, and to finally have her in his arms was almost unreal.

The romance between the two was just unreal.

Simon and (y/n) moved together effortlessly, every step and movement in perfect synchronization. The world around them seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of them. He held her close as he led the dance, his grip on her waist firm yet gentle.

As the music played, Simon couldn't take his eyes off her. He marveled at the way her eyes sparkled in the soft light, the way her hair framed her face, and the way she fit so perfectly in his arms. It was as if the universe had aligned to bring the both together like this.

“You're absolutely gorgeous, dead pretty my love.” He cooed softly as he dipped her down.

“You're too sweet.” She smiled as she got all bashful on him. “You're handsome as well, have been handsome since I first laid eyes on you.” She hummed remembering the library, now knowing this was the very man that had been so gentle and kind to her. He was the man who made her ooze for affection in her dreams from him and wake up to the harsh reality some mornings that she may never know him again. But somehow in some way, someone was letting their love story be weaved together intertwining their red strings together. The two knew from the start, this wasn’t just typical love, it felt like they had known each other forever, this was a love that lasts and a love that only grew from here on out.

“Glad it’s the same for you as it for me, my pretty girl.”

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I hope you enjoy! 💕

Tagged:

@shecamedowninabubble

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod x you #cod imagine #cod mw ghost #ghost cod #ghost imagines #ghost x reader #simon ghost fluff #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley imagines #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you

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tapwater118 · 6 months ago

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Has anyone ever heard of “Battle for Dream Island” (1990) before? Really obscure NES game, doesn’t even have a Wikipedia page (or hell, even a mention in one).

From what little I can find about it on the internet, Battle for Dream Island was an NES game released on January 1st, 1990, apparently made entirely by a pair of independent American developers. Never made all that many sales, but eventually it garnered a rather niche following on an obscure gaming forum, though it had long since dissipated. Unfortunately, seemingly nothing from the forum threads was archived, so all I have to go on are a few vague threads titles from a navigation page.

I, rather cliched like, bought this BfDI cartridge from a sleazy old guy at a flea market (along with Puzznic and Wario’s Woods for a bargain deal). I dumped the ROM and booted it up on an emulator to take some screencaps.

Upon pressing start, you are prompted to “Choose Contestant,” and have a choice between any of 20 playable characters (who are all everyday objects, for some reason). Each contestant has their own stats, and while you can feel the difference while playing, the overall impact of character choice is pretty negligible. (Also some of these guys don’t even have arms?? Weird design choice but okay.)

Two screencaps of the character select screen. I went with Pin for my first playthrough cause idk she seemed kinda cute. I’m almost sure the stats are “Strength,” “Speed,” “Jump,” and “Skill.”

(Continued under cut)

While touting itself as a game show, BfDI is essentially a glorified minigame collection. The gameplay loop is as follows: You and the 19 other contestants play a minigame (referred to as “challenges”) to earn points based on how well you do (though I’m fairly certain the computer contestants just get a random amount of points for each challenge). Most of the challenges are various platforming segments, though some others fall more into puzzle game territory.

Two of the challenges. The green “Win Tokens” can be collected for bonus points. LEFT: A horizontal platformer level. The grey wall in the middle of the screencap moves up and down. RIGHT: A challenge about climbing ladders while avoiding “acid spitballs.” The game pauses to scroll vertically a la Super Mario Bros. 2.

After each challenge, this speaker thing shows up (pretty sure he’s supposed to be like a game show host?) and tallies up everyone’s score. The contestant with the least score gets “eliminated” and removed from the game.

The results screen. Leafy did rather poor on the last challenge, so she’s out of the game.

The game continues like this until you lose (have the least amount of points) and get booted to the game over screen, or until you are the last one left, in which case you win Dream Island! (Though of course in reality you just get booted back to the title screen. No Dream Island for you.)

The victory screen, with the gates to Dream Island in sight. Feels more like the gates to hell given how Pin’s staring at me.

It’s a fairly easy game for NES standards (I won on my first try). Took me about 80 minutes on my first playthrough, though subsequent ones could take less than an hour as I knew what I was doing. The brevity and the fact it saves your high score gives BfDI a nice sense of replayability (though this is probably best done sporadically, as the challenges tend to get a bit samey after a couple of back-to-back playthroughs).

So yeah, just wanted to share this in case anybody else has heard of it. I’ll probably rip the sprites and upload them sometime later cause it doesn’t look like anybody’s done that yet.

#bfdi #bfdia #bfb #tpot #bfdi firey #bfdi pin #bfdi leafy #bfdi needle #bfdi teardrop #bfdi eraser #bfdi flower #bfdi pencil #bfdi rocky #bfdi announcer #BfDI1990 #unreality #unfiction

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writingtraumaforever · 13 days ago

Text

Courtship: Chapter 3 (Finale)

Notes: AAAAAAAAAND DONE. This was such a joy to write, guys. I love the movie-verse so, so much, and I'm glad I was motivated enough to write a little fic about our two favorite boys. I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I did, and who know! Maybe if the demand is there, I'll write a little epilogue for our two cuties~

Summary: Shadow meets the Wachowski's. Again.

Chapter Select: Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Mini-Sequel: Home Alone

Link to my AO3!

Start:

Sonic is nothing but nervous energy.

He’s been rushing about the entire morning. He took a bubble bath. He bathed Ozzie in the same bath after. He tidied his room. He put on the coolest pictures of him in the living room and the dopey ones in his dresser drawer to not be found. He combed his quills and brushed his fur. He has prepared in every possible way and still feels like things aren’t near good enough for Shadow to be impressed.

Maddie climbs up the ladder to the attic, gently lifting the door to find Sonic moving his action figures around on his shelf as if to try and find some sort of specifically aesthetic organization.

“No..,” he moves them all around again, “nuh uh,” again, “not it,” again with a frustrated groan, “You know what?? He’ll probably think they’re lame anyway.” And then he’s dumping them all in the upper drawer of his nightstand.

Maddie can’t help but smile at her spazzing son, a sympathetic knit to her brow as she knocks gently on his bedroom floor, “Knock knock?”

Sonic’s attention instantly shift to his peeping mom’s head peering through the attic door, “oh- hey, mom.”

“Hey, kiddo,” she smiles, entering now that he’s granted his approval. She looks at the neat room with raised brows, “Wow.. don’t think I’ve ever seen it so clean in here.”

“Yeah, well. I can’t have a guest thinking I’m a slob.”

“Right. Because that would be misleading,” Maddie says with a playful wink and a hint of sarcasm. Sonic just smiles at this, rolling his eyes before dashing over to his comic books that are stacked next to his bean bag. He begins looking through them, trying to decide which should go on top for viewing.

“You think Batman is cooler or the Flash??”

“Hm.. I think the Flash is pretty cool,” the mother answers as she approaches the hedgehog with a knowing look in her eyes.

“Mm… yeah, but..,” he looks at the Batman comic again before stacking the Flash and then the Batman one on top, “Shadow would probably like Batman more.”

“You’re probably right,” Maddie agrees with a nod, Sonic nodding in return as he turns to his mom again.

“Did you get the hot dogs?”

“Yup,” she assures, “Three whole packs. And the chili is currently in the slow cooker.”

“Sweet,” Sonic grins approvingly, “Shadow is gonna die when he tries your chili dogs. He’ll finally understand that they’re the best thing humans have ever invented.”

“Right,” Maddie snorts with a giggle before she crouches down to eye level with the blue blur, watching how Sonic’s eyes skim around the room looking for something else to perfect. Nerves. Anxious. Excited. Scared..

She knows.

“Hey..,” she says softly, catching Sonic’s attention then as she takes his gloved hands into her own, “He already likes you. He wouldn’t be coming here if he didn’t.”

Sonic sighs, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he squeezes Maddie’s hands, “I know. I know. I just-.. I really want him to think I’m cool.”

“Sonic Wachowski?? Not cool?? That’s an impossible conclusion to come to,” she smirks, Sonic giggling a bit in return.

“I know, but-.. I don’t know..”

Sonic’s ears flatten just slightly, his gaze shifting away sheepishly. And nervously..

Maddie’s smile softens again, squeezing his hands again as she speaks, “Try and relax. If you’re a nervous ball of energy, he likely will feed off that and be one too. Being cool is a nice thing to be, but being welcoming is the more important bit.. You want him to feel safe here.”

“Yeah..,” Sonic breathes with a small smile, looking at his mother earnestly, “..I just want him to want to come back.”

“I’m sure he will,” she assures with a nod, moving to kiss her boy’s spiky forehead before resting hers against it to look him in the eye, “It’ll all go just fine, Sonic. You’re a great kid.”

“I’m seventeen,” Sonic groans with a little eyeroll, but it’s harmless and he’s smiling. He knows good and well no matter how old he is, he’ll always be her baby.

“I’m sorry, you’re a great man,” she corrects with pure confidence, “And you have a big heart. I’m sure he sees that too, and finds comfort in that…”

Sonic’s eyes shut with a sigh, leaning his forehead against his mom’s a bit more before simply moving to slide his arms around her shoulders and give her a big hedgehog hug.

“Thanks mom..”

She pets her hand along his head and rubs his ear with a smile, hugging him in return tight and warm, “Anytime.”

Sonic stays like that until he feels most of his nerves melt away, pulling back then to look her in the eye with all seriousness, “Dad’s gonna behave, right???”

Maddie hums and looks away as if unsure, “I think so,” she immediately laughs when Sonic’s face shifts to horror and gives his shoulders a playful shake, “Calm down, I’m kidding. We had a talk. And he absolutely is going to behave. As are the other boys.”

Sonic deflates with a breath of relief, “Oh thank God—“

Maddie giggles and stands up again, lightly thumping Sonic’s ear and making it twitch in the process as she turns to exit the attic, “Try and relax a bit. You’re gonna run a hole in the ceiling if you keep at it up here.”

Sonic just scoffs in playful offense, “Is that a fat joke?!”

“It’s a warning,” Maddie says with a pointed look his way as she climbs down the ladder, slowly closing the door on her way down. She playfully points at him in mock threat just before it shuts, leaving Sonic chuckling before moving to his bed.

He sits down carefully on the edge, not wanting to have to make it again. Laying back with a heavy sigh, he stares at his ceiling and tries to ignore the very aggressive butterflies that are multiplying in his stomach..

•••

Shadow has prepared himself appropriately according to his research.

He anointed himself in his favorite scent: lavender and coffee. He combed his quills neatly. He brushed his chest fur to get any knots out. He’s even wearing an extra article of clothing: a black leather jacket. And to impress Sonic’s parents, he bought two motorcycle helmets to show he cares about safety, wearing one when he shows up at their driveway.

He read motorcycles are often an alarming sign to most guardians for their children to be associated with, but Sonic once told him that Mr. Wachowski thought they were ‘way past cool’. So he opted to try and impress the man by catering to his interests.

Parking the bike on the street at the end of the driveway, Shadow removes his helmet and rests it on the seat. His crimson eyes stare at the Wachowski residence for a long time. A sick feeling in his stomach.

Maybe he’s ill.

No.. no, lying to himself is pointless. He’s terrified.

He doesn’t get the luxury of domineering first impressions. He’s already made them long ago, and they weren’t exactly ideal. None of this situation is, honestly. But he has to play the cards he was dealt, and he’s determined to try his damn hardest to win this family over.

He’s watched YouTube tutorials on how to hold conversation, dinner etiquette, appropriate movie watching commentary, manners when meeting parents, common humans topics of conversation..

He’s done his research. Theoretically, this should be a walk in the park.

So why the hell couldn’t he get his feet to move???

He stares at the home. Can see the lights on, humans silhouetted and moving about through the sheer curtains of the windows.. and one blue blur flashing by now and then.

Shadow’s lips purse, his fists tightening at his sides as his stomach aches a bit more uneasily.

Sonic is inside.. Sonic is depending on him to make a good impression. Sonic has done his part in this ritual, now it’s time for Shadow to do his and-…

Nope. No, what is he thinking?? Shadow can’t do this. He doesn’t deserve this. He’s a fraud. He doesn’t deserve redemption or forgiveness. He doesn’t get to just waltz into their home and act as though he’s just some random hedgehog their son brought home.

He nearly destroyed them.

Picking his helmet back off his motorcycle’s seat, he starts to put it back on with one last glance to the Wachowski home.

The home untouched by a monster. The home he hasn’t destroyed yet. The home that doesn’t need him involved in it..

And ruby finds emerald.

Sonic’s wide, eager eyes are looking out the window in search of his guest’s arrival and find Shadow standing there.

Damnit.

The front door opens in an instant, the blue blur standing there grinning wide and excited and happy. Shadow can see his tail wagging from here.

“Shadow!”

Shadow slowly puts his helmet back on the seat of his bike.

Welp.

No going back now.

Walking around the bike, Shadow offers a small smile to Sonic despite his current need to vomit. Or run. Running sounds more convenient.

”You’re here!” Sonic beams, and Shadow swears he’s never seen the hero so damn giddy.

“I am,” he confirms with a small nod, approaching the steps to the doorway now and stopping right outside the door.

Sonic just stares at him all sunshine and giggles for a long moment, Shadow feeling increasingly weary under his starstruck gaze.

This hedgehog expects far too much of Shadow.. he’s going to end up crushed when he sees him for what he really is eventually. But Shadow will selfishly take whatever attention Sonic will give him for now.

There’s something powerful about it.. a pure-hearted hero like Sonic wanting to court Shadow. The monstrosity. The creature. The thing.

Shadow wonders if Sonic even realizes how much of an impact the way he looks at Shadow has on him..

Sonic’s eyes linger and then look down at Shadow’s attire, “You’re wearing a jacket!”

Shadow shifts a bit on his feet, looking down at his jacket with slight embarrassment now.. maybe it wasn’t the appropriate choice?

“I.. am..?”

“It looks great!” Sonic beams, bouncing on his toes as he bites his lower lip.

“Oh..,” Shadow looks back to Sonic, a shy smile curling on his muzzle, “Thank you.”

“Sure thing,” Sonic replies immediately, going back to just staring at Shadow as if he isn’t real. Like he’s a dream. A vision.

Shadow doesn’t know what to do with that..

“May I—“

“Oh! Yeah, man, sorry—“ Sonic chuckles with a pink tint growing on his cheeks, moving out of the way to allow Shadow inside the home. Shadow steps inside and is immediately met with the smell of peppers and mahogany. He’s guessing it’s the dinner mixed with the natural Wachowski home scent. It’s not unpleasant.

Sonic closes the door behind him, and Shadow looks up to find the Donut Lord and Pretzel Lady themselves looking right back at him.

Oh sweet chaos kill him—

”Hello, Mr. And Mrs. Wachowski,” Shadow greets immediately, nerves making his hands feel a bit shaky but he steels them into hard fists at his sides.

The missus of the home speaks first, “Hello, Shadow.” Her voice is soft and sweet, and her smile looks genuine and welcoming. “We’re so happy to have you here. Welcome to our home!”

“Thank you for allowing my attendance,” Shadow politely nods, swallowing hard as his eyes shift to the man. The father. The leader. The Donut Lord.

He doesn’t look nearly as genuine as the woman when he smiles. But he is smiling, which is something, at least.

Last Shadow saw this man, he had a foot placed firmly on his neck with a gun pressed to his temple.

Shadow will gladly and gratefully take a damn disingenuous smile.

“Of course,” the man assures, seeming a bit reluctant in his words but Shadow recognizes the effort regardless, “Any friend of Sonic’s is always welcome.”

Even if they blew up half the moon???

Shadow refrains from saying this.

“You have a lovely home, Mrs. Wachowski,” Shadow compliments, trying for some of the training he received from the Internet, “It’s very well decorated.”

“Oh- that’s so sweet,” she smiles, a hand over her heart as if it’s been touched. Shadow is glad this seems to have been the right thing to say.

“Why don’t you let Sonic give you a tour, and I’ll the table set for us to eat out back?”

“Sounds great!” Sonic approves, Shadow looking back to the hedgehog that’s been standing behind him watching the interaction with pins and needles this whole time, “C’mon! We’ll start with the living room.”

Shadow follows Sonic throughout the home, feeling Mr. Wachowski’s lingering gaze now and then when in sight. But Shadow tries not to focus on this and instead on the words Sonic is saying.

“These are our bean bags,” the blue hedgehog points to the line of three large bags, blue, yellow and red, stored against the wall of the living room behind the couch, “We pull them out in front of the tv when we watch a movie or a show. Mine is the blue one— duh. Knuckles’ is red and Tails’ is yellow. Mom and Dad take the couch.”

Shadow nods with a small hum to show he’s paying attention, not having much commentary on the matter. Sonic doesn’t seem to mind this. He makes up by talking enough for the both of them. Always has. This is their dynamic. And the familiarity of it helps Shadow feel a bit more at ease as he continues on with Sonic’s tour.

“This is the dining room where we eat— except we never eat here. We usually just sit in the living room or at the table in the kitchen to eat. We only eat here on special occasions like birthdays or holidays.”

“This is the downstairs bathroom. Always use this bathroom. Knuckles uses it the least.”

“That’s the kitchen, but we’ll stay outta there right now so we don’t get in the way.”

“This is the downstairs office where Dad will do paperwork or Mom will do some vet stuff. Sometimes she brings home animals to foster, and they sleep in here. It’s super cool! Once, she brought home an earth hedgehog. It was super slow.”

“This is the backyard—“

He’s interrupted by instant barking when he opens the door, the family dog having been outside and seemingly waiting at the door for them to join him. Shadow doesn’t like the loud noise, instantly feeling a bit overwhelmed as he takes a small step back with a frown and watches Sonic wrangle the dog by his collar.

“Ozzie! Easy! I know you’re excited we have a guest, but you gotta chill, dawg,” Sonic scolds affectionately, grinning as he tugs the pup away from the door to allow Shadow to step out without being tackled.

Shadow does, eyeing the dog and keeping his distance the entire time.

The dog— Ozzie eventually seems to calm, his barking stopping and being replaced with little whines as he eyes Shadow. His tail is wagging like Sonic’s was when he first got here.

Actually, Sonic’s tail hasn’t stopped wagging, Shadow notes.

His ears perk up from their folded back position once the barking stops, observing the dog silently with an unsure gaze..

Sonic picks up on this, offering a hand out to Shadow as he stays crouched at the dog’s side holding its collar with his opposing hand, “It’s cool. He don’t bite.”

Shadow frowns a bit, looking at Sonic’s hand a bit unsure before looking to the dog again.. then he hesitantly reaches and lets Sonic’s hand guide his own to the dog’s fur. It’s thick. He imagines it’s probably soft without his gloves on, as most well-kept fur is..

The dog’s head seems to tilt up into his palm when it touches between his ears, Shadow lightly curling his fingers to scratch there as Ozzie’s tongue hangs happily to the side of his muzzle. Panting and no longer whining now that he’s getting his wanted attention and affection.

Shadow’s frown dissipates slowly, replaced with a content sort of expression. He.. likes petting it. It’s comforting.

Shadow smells the distinct scent of grass on his palm when he retracts it from the dog.

“He’s a good boy,” Sonic smiles, petting the dog under its chin and behind its collar, “He likes you, too! That’s a good sign.”

Shadow’s eyes glint with pride at that, eased that he has passed yet another Wachowski test.

They go back inside after Sonic shows Shadow the firepit and then picnic table in the back, walking in to find Tom carrying some plates towards the backdoor..

“Dinner is ready to serve,” the sheriff informs with a small smile at the two, seeming a bit more at ease now that “introductions” have been made, “Go get your brothers, huh?”

“On it,” Sonic nods, waving his hand for Shadow to follow— which he does once he’s done holding the door open for Mr. Wachowski.

“Tails’ room is the basement, “Sonic informs as they approach what Shadow had assumed was a coat closet. Instead, he finds there’s a staircase down when Sonic opens it.

“He was in the guest room, but Dad moved him when he kept waking him up at night tinkering. Said he needed more room to work.”

“That was generous of him,” Shadow replies, following Sonic down the stairs.

“Yeah. Dad is pretty supportive of our hobbies,” Sonic shrugs with a little smile, though he seems to hold a new nervousness now..

Once downstairs, Shadow is a bit taken aback by the sight.

The walls are lined with all sorts of tools and gadgets and gizmos, some he recognizes and some he’s never seen before. The room is very much divided by a workspace and an actual bedroom. The workspace being what Shadow would only describe as organized chaos while the bedroom portion is neat and tidy. Clean and almost looking untouched.

It’s intriguing, the contrast.

A personality for each tail, he supposes.

Speaking of— the young kit himself was found seated at a workbench, headphones over pointed ears and fluffy tails winding together then unwinding again behind him repetitively. He seems locked in on whatever he’s fiddling with, his tongue sticking out and his brows furrowed in concentration. Shadow almost hates to interrupt him, but Sonic approaches without a thought.

“Hey Tails,” the hero lightly nudges his shoulder causing the fox to flinch before quickly removing his headphones to turn to Sonic, “dinner’s ready.”

“Oh sweet! I’m starved!” the smaller one grins, “Just let me—“ his smile drops, eyes widening and body stiffening when he sees Shadow.

Shadow swallows, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and trying not to seem too intimidating nor too intimidated.

“Oh,” Tails says, his voice small and his ears drooping back just slightly. His body shifts as if to be a bit more behind Sonic, “hey, Shadow. L-long time no see!.. heh..”

He’s scared. Shadow hates that..

Hates he’s given the kit more than enough reason to be..

He’s actually quite good with kids, contrary to popular belief. He was made to comfort and tend to one after all..

His heart would’ve broken to bits had his sister ever looked at him like that..

He clears his throat, glancing around before trying to break the ice with a compliment, “Your.. workspace is impressive,” he looks back at the fox to show he’s earnest, “I haven’t seen many of these tools before.”

“Oh,” Tails’ ears perk up, though a bit hesitantly, “I uh-.. I made most of them myself.”

“You build these things??”

“Yeah! Um.. I can show you some if you want??”

“I’d like that,” Shadow nods.

Sonic listens with a growing smile, watching as Tails stands and slowly begins to show Shadow some of his creations lining the walls and tabletops. He seems pleased this is going well thus far. More than pleased. This is important to him, of course, that much is obvious. But this fox is special to Sonic. He’s protective of him, a guardian of him. He wouldn’t want Shadow to be an object of fear for him.. nor would he want to bring Shadow around if it caused Tails distress, the hybrid is sure.

There’s a soft look in Sonic’s eyes as Tails laughs at something Shadow says, though. It makes Shadow’s stomach do flips. He pretends not to notice.

“I’m actually working on a design for a plane,” Tails explains as he approaches his workbench again, showing Shadow the blueprints, “I kind of got addicted this one time I flew one while fighting Eggman. Wanna make one bigger and better.”

Shadow looks over the blueprints with intrigue, finding the knowledge of this child absolutely baffling as well as simply endearing. His thirst for knowledge is familiar to Shadow..

“The engine design is formidable,” the hybrid observes, “have you considered replacing the transonic truss-braced wings with elliptical ones??”

“I… haven’t..,” Tails hums thoughtfully, tapping his chin as he eyes his blueprints, “that would make it far more aerodynamically efficient—“

“—and produce less drag,” Shadow finishes with a nod, watching as the fox quickly picks up his pencil and makes adjustments to the blueprints

“That’s brilliant! Team Heroes definitely needs this to be fast—“

“Okay you two! Before you start nerding out, we have chili dogs-a-waitin’,” Sonic interrupts, gesturing dramatically to the stairs with a bow.

Shadow and Tails look to him, the fox chuckling sheepishly and putting his pencil back down as he rubs the back of his neck and approaches his older brother, “Sorry. Got carried away.”

“It’s cool, lil’ bro,” Sonic assures with a shrug, waiting for Shadow to walk up the stairs before following behind, “I know you’re a big dork.”

“At least I’m not a big dumb,” Tails retorts with a grin.

“Zing!” Sonic chuckles proudly. Shadow is fairly certain he could’ve thought of a comeback and simply chose to allow the fox the win. It’s cute.

“Alright, let’s go get Knucks because the dawgs are callin’ and I’m staaaarviiiiing~” Sonic sings the last word in a nonsensical way that Shadow has grown accustom to from the hedgehog, smirking slightly as he follows him towards the side door.

Once outside, Shadow notes a large, white shed to the side of the house with its lights on, putting together that that must be where the echidna stays.

As if reading his mind, Sonic narrates, “Knuckles’ room is in the shed. Him and Mom had a lot of fights when he first moved in because he was a bit destructive. After a while, though, we realized this was just because he wasn’t use to sharing his space. He was pretty much a loner before all us, and he likes his independence and to be his own boss. So Mom renovated the shed for him and surprised him with it. I think that’s the first time he hugged her. It was pretty cool,” Sonic reminisces, walking backwards towards the shed so he can keep his eye on Shadow as he speaks.

“She sounds like a very perceptive mother,” Shadow analyzes.

“Oh, she is,” Sonic nods with wide eyes, “It’s scary sometimes how she knows things. It’s like she can read minds or something.”

Shadow’s ears fold back slightly at that, glancing towards the house again and wondering if his mind is currently being invaded..

To his knowledge, humans don’t have this ability, though.

Sonic knocks on the shed door once before opening it right on up. They’re instantly met with loud rap music playing over a speaker, Shadow’s ears once again folding back at the unwelcomed noise.

Sonic seems to notice this, rushing in a dash to switch the music off. This immediately disturbs the echidna who is sitting on a weight bench with a large spear in hand, sharpening the tip with a rock of some sort.

“Hey! Who dares to interrupt my bops?!” the red echidna barks, purple eyes turning to lock on crimson ones.

Oh boy.

The fox was one thing. He feared Shadow, which is something Shadow felt he could change relatively simply with time and trust. But the echidna???

He challenged Shadow.

“Ah! The Utmost Living Being!”

“The Ultimate Lifeform..,” Shadow mumbles the correction with a small frown, trying not to seem annoyed by the guardian’s incompetence. He’s had a lot of practice with Sonic.

“Whatever. You have arrived!” Knuckles continues, standing to approach the two now. Shadow is wary of the spear still in his hand, not even flinching when Knuckles points it directly at him, nearly grazing his chin. The echidna’s voice is deathly serious, gaze firm and menacing like a predator, “What are your intentions with my brother?”

Sonic’s eyes widen with a loud and awkward, “OH-KAY! That’s enough of that, ha-ha!” He’s quickly between the two, shoving the spear away from Shadow’s face with a little glare to his brother. Knuckles ignores it, keeping his eyes locked daringly on Shadow over Sonic’s shoulder. Shadow just looks back unphased before looking back to the nervously laughing Sonic.

“Don’t be weird, Knuckles,” the hedgehog growls under his breath, the echidna scoffing at this as if offended.

“Weird?! I am not being weird! I am merely engaging in conversation with our guest.”

“A weird conversation. And an unnecessarily aggressive one!”

“All aggression is necessary,” Knuckles corrects, finally looking from Shadow to Sonic, “Besides, I am the eldest brother. It is my duty to protect the tribe from newcomers!”

“Dude. Mom and Dad already have it covered. Just— be cool,” Sonic groans, crossing his arms at his brother.

“The Lady of Pretzels and Lord of Donuts are easily persuaded. I am not,” Knuckles shrugs, looking back to Shadow, “You are welcome to our home! But I will be watching you..”

Shadow just nods at this, “Understandable.”

Sonic groans more at this, seeming annoyed with Knuckles’ typical dramatic antics before he just rubs a hand down his face and shrugs it off, “Whatever. Just— dinner’s ready.”

“Oo sustenance! Is there grapes???” Knuckles’ demeanor shifts from intimidating to giddy like a dime, his eyes wide with hope.

“Yes. She made fruit salad and included grapes. Just for you,” Sonic huffs, turning towards the door to which Shadow promptly follows.

“Superb. She is absolutely a wonderful mother,” Knuckles hums pleased as he follows behind the two, “I am very glad I picked her.”

“Right,” Sonic rolls his eyes, leading the trio across the yard, picking his battles and not arguing with Knuckles on that one.

Shadow can’t help but find the entire interaction amusing. Their dynamic is so different than Sonic and Tails’, but it’s still laced with affection. It’s also endearing.

Once back inside, the three find that the house is empty and assume the others are already out back waiting in the yard.

Joining them outside, Shadow is immediately met with the appetizing aroma of chili as well as assorted fruits and some sort of meat.

He doesn’t have to eat as much as normal people do, but he certainly doesn’t mind it if it’s a good enough meal.

Tails is sitting with Mrs. Wachowski at the table, fixing his plate with a hot dog and a simple topping of ketchup with a bowl of chili separate on the side. He’s already digging in, not realizing how hungry he was since he had been caught up in his work.

Mr. Wachowski is squatted by a cooler, filling his cup with ice along with three others that Shadow assumes is for the three who just came outside. Sonic dashes right up to the family, obviously quite eager for their dinner if his wagging tail is anything to go off of. Knuckles follows behind, grabbing himself a paper plate and beginning to stack it up quite messily with anything that seems to be appetizing to his eyes. Topped with a concerning amount of grapes, Shadow notes.

“This food palette looks very balanced and appetizing, Mrs. Wachowski,” Shadow comments, looking at the full picnic table. The vet smiles wide at this, “Thank you, Shadow. That’s very sweet.”

Sonic turns to Shadow, handing him a paper plate with a little smile, “Here ya go.” Shadow looks at the plate a moment and then Sonic, “Thank you.” “Yup! Fix yourself some sides. We got beans, salad, chips– but your dawg?? It’s mine.” Shadow blinks. “I don’t have a dog.”

He notices the way the mother bites her lips together with an amused smile behind Sonic’s shoulder, exchanging knowing glances with the fox who giggles quietly.

“I meant your chili dog,” Sonic clarifies with a head tilt, “I’m gonna fix your first ever chili dog for you.”

“Oh..,” Shadow mumbles, cheeks turning a bit rosy with embarrassment at his incessant habit to take things a bit too literally and not quickly catch onto slang.

“Yeah, so fill your plate and let the master do his thing,” Sonic winks before turning around to get started on building Shadow’s chili dog. And my isn’t it a concoction..

Upon closer examination once placed in front of him, he takes in the ingredients he can curiously, his nose overwhelmed with the complexity of spices he senses.

A hot dog. Chili. Shredded lettuce. Cheese. Ketchup. Mayo. Onion. Tomato. Peppers. And to Shadow’s slight surprise, brown sugar mixed with hot sauce sprinkled on top of it all.

Interesting.

Shadow’s mouth forms a sideways line as he looks at the intimidating beast of a feast placed before him, looking at Sonic whose chili dog looks identical and is already being devoured by the blue menace.

Taking a breath, Shadow looks back to his chili dog. He can feel the others watching him. The Wachowskis, Tails, Knuckles.. Sonic even pauses to look at him expectantly, waiting to see his reaction to the ultimate food.

Shadow slowly picks up the chili dog, having to be extra careful not to make a mess of his gloves from all the sloppy contents of the item. He examines it only a moment longer before he opens his mouth and takes a big enough bite to get at least a little of everything.

And as he expected, he’s overwhelmed. There’s too much going on in his mouth for him to properly process it. The flavors are strong, the textures varying with each chew. It makes his spine shiver a bit, slowly chewing it as he keeps his tongue in the back of his mouth like it’ll calm his senses a bit.

But courting etiquette for humans is to always compliment your host for their meal.

So swallowing his disgust and the bite, Shadow offers a small smile and lies, “It’s delicious.” Sonic snorts at this, immediately bursting into laughter as Knuckles snickers as well. Tails is giggling with the mother and Mr. Wachowski is smiling as if amused.

Shadow just blushes a bit more, shrinking slightly in fear he may have said something wrong. “Oh you poor thing,” Maddie tuts sympathetically, standing to grab another plate and begin fixing a new chili dog, “You don’t have to eat all that. The Sonic Special is very much coded for Sonic.” “Yeah, man,” Sonic snickers, lightly shaking Shadow by his shoulder and then moving his plate from in front of him, sneaking it onto the ground for the dog to devour, “It’s cool. Not everyone can handle so much in one bite.”

Shadow looks at him and then glances up to watch Mrs. Wachowski place a new plate before him. This one looking more like the fox’s. Simple. A hot dog, nothing on it.

“You can add any toppings you like, sweetie,” Maddie smiles, taking her seat again.

“Or you can just have it plain! I only like ketchup on mine,” Tails encourages with a little grin.

“Mine is a mighty volcano,” Knuckles brags, forking another large scarf of the conglomeration down.

“See? It’s alright to like different stuff,” Sonic winks, nudging Shadow’s side with his elbow before looking back to his own food to continue eating.

Shadow looks around at the others a moment, watching as they all get on with their meals now and not paying him as much mind. Mr. Wachowski’s gaze catches his, though, still watching him with an expression Shadow doesn’t know how to translate. But the officer offers a little smile and nod, to which Shadow returns. He then looks down, and after a moment of hesitation, he tries his simple hot dog.

The rest of dinner goes smoothly. Shadow finishes his plate with ease, quite enjoying the more traditional forms of the food rather than the exaggerated versions his counterparts ate. They all share conversations, the subject often shifting and leaving Shadow a bit lost now and then. But he does his best to keep up, even adding a small input here and there but nothing more.

It’s intriguing.. watching a family. He remembers his time on the ARK with Maria.. How they’d share meals in the cafeteria but often would sneak away to sit on the floor in front of the large window viewing earth to eat together instead. They didn’t have a large family, but they had each other. And that was plenty..

He sees that in these people. Their bond is strong. They’re comfortable with one another. Open and honest and accepting of their differences. It’s..refreshing.

The only time he’s directly addressed is by Mr. Wachowski. “So Shadow,” he starts, swallowing his bite before continuing, “What are you doing these days?”

Shadow pauses. He read about this. The parents of one’s partner will often feel out how successful or motivated one is to see if they’re worthy of taking care of their offspring.

“Shadow??? He’s doing his own thing, you know. Being cool and–”

“I believe I was talking to Shadow,” Tom cuts Sonic off, though his voice holds no spite and he’s smiling knowingly at Sonic.

Sonic just smiles a bit sheepishly with a quiet “right” before looking to Shadow, not speaking for him this time. Though, Sonic looks a bit nervous, now. Perhaps he fears his father won’t approve of Shadow’s answer.

“I have recently began working with GUN,” Shadow says, looking at Tom now who seems a bit taken aback by this answer if his raised brows are anything to go off of. Next to him, Shadow sees Sonic’s face shift to one of surprise as well.

“You didn’t tell me that..” “It was confidential up until recently,” he explains, looking from Sonic to Tom again, “Nothing is official, but we’re getting close to some sort of work agreement..” “Sounds serious,” Tom replies with an intrigued look, “Didn’t really expect you to want anything to do with GUN..” After my grandfather who was an agent shot your sister goes unsaid, but Shadow hears it nonetheless.

He replies, “I didn’t. Not for some time, at least.” “What changed your mind?”

“Sonic,” Shadow answers bluntly, feeling everyone’s eyes land on him at once, including the said blue hedgehog next to him.

“..He’s not from here. He’s different. Powerful. And in terms of this planet’s mentality, he’s a threat. That’s what I was seen as,” Shadow explains, eyes staying on Tom’s as to not be intimidated by the many others peering at him, “He was hunted by humanity at first, not seen as a hero but rather a mystery. And humans never take to things they don’t understand well.. But Sonic didn’t let this discourage him. He continued to fight for his freedom and for the freedom of this world from evil-doers like Ivo Robotnik. And with time, he earned their trust. Proved himself. They stopped seeing him as different and saw him as an ally and a hero.. I don’t want to be a hero, but an ally is a good place to start. And while GUN has been corrupted before, I’d say they have good intentions in the long run to protect this world even if often misguided. I plan to be there to help guide them. Make sure what happened on the ARK never happens again..”

He looks to Sonic now, quoting something the blue hero once told him, “I can’t expect change if I just stand still.. I gotta make a move.”

Sonic’s eyes stare back at Shadow, a slow and wide smile forming on his muzzle along with rose tinted cheeks. A look of pride glistening in his eyes.

“That..,” Tom speaks, gaining Shadow’s attention again, “.. is a pretty damn good answer.”

Tom smiles at him. Shadow smiles back.

Dinner ends, and Mrs. Wachowski stands to start gathering up plates to trash, “Okay, Knuckles and Tails. Dishes.”

“What about Sonic?” Knuckles asks, looking distraught that he has to do more work than his brother. Tails is unbothered and already working on gathering up the serving dishes and leftovers to carry inside.

“He has a guest over,” Tom answers with a pointed look at Knuckles, “So he has to host.”

“So having a guest means you don’t have to do these silly tasks??” Knuckles scoffs as if scandalized by this information, as though he’s been personally targeted.

“Yup. ‘Fraid so, buddy.”

Knuckles huffs at this, snatching a few dishes as he begins making his way back to the house with something along the lines of ‘I must make more friends’ being grumbled from him.

Sonic sticks his tongue out mockingly at the red echidna when he walks by, earning the blue hedgehog a hard punch to the gut.

“Sonic? Have you shown Shadow your room?” Maddie asks, earning a pointed glare from Mr. Wachowski. Sonic immediately grins and, “Oh! I haven’t! Wanna see??”

Shadow nods at him with a small smile, “Yes, please.”

“Sweet, it’s this way,” he nods his head for Shadow to follow him back inside.

“What the hell was that??” Tom hisses to Maddie once they’re gone, “They don’t need to be alone in his room together–”

“Oh stop,” Maddie rolls her eyes at him with a little grin, “They’ll be fine. Sonic gets antsy just making eye contact with Shadow for too long, and Shadow-... well, I don’t even think Shadow knows how to flirt, let alone make a move.”

Tom groans a little but lets it go, figuring she’s probably right..

Plus, he trusts his boy to make good decisions.

“Here it is!” Sonic announces, climbing up a ladder into the attic, Shadow following behind. It.. isn’t exactly what Shadow was expecting. He was honestly expecting an absolute trainwreck. Clothes everywhere, weird smells, the whole shebang. Instead, he finds a room that so painfully screams Sonic. It’s enchanting in a charismatic sort of way. There’s charming lights lined along the ceilings, multiple road signs that allude to Sonic’s speed. The bed itself resembles a racecar, Shadow finding this immature but endearing. The shelves are lined with trinkets and random objects that must hold enough meaning for Sonic to keep them despite seeming unimportant. A beanbag is sat in the corner with a stack of comic books next to it. Sonic has lended some to Shadow before, and he respects the hero’s infatuation with them. Definitely sees where he gets his heroic antics from.

Shadow looks around the room in wonder. It’s a stark contrast to his own current sleeping arrangements.. Up until a few weeks ago, Shadow had honestly sort of just skipped around from rooftops to caves to trees to sleep. GUN offered him a more permanent place in an apartment in Central City..

It’s very empty. And very unlived in. Sonic’s room?? It’s warm and comforting and feels like a home. A safe space.

Shadow can tell each and every object that’s in here is likely treasured dearly by the blue hedgehog.. Well. except the dirty sock peeking out from under the bed. But Shadow chooses not to acknowledge that for Sonic’s sake.

“Welcome to Casa de Sonic,” the blue hedgehog grins, spreading his arms in showmanship of his space, “Pretty cool, huh??” He seems chill, but Shadow can tell he’s holding onto Shadow’s every move and breath.

Shadow looks at him and then around the room, turning to do a slow 360 look of the place before looking back to Sonic and offering a small smile and approving nod, “Very cool.”

Sonic’s arms drop with a breath of relief, a little chuckle escaping him as he looks at Shadow a moment and then looks towards his bed. In a blur of blue and brief gust of wind, Sonic is plopping onto the bed and then sitting up to look at Shadow, “Mom and Dad set it up for me as a surprise one time. I’ve kinda made it my own since then, but they did a pretty great job of laying down a solid foundation for all my dudeitude.”

“Dudeitude??” Shadow questions, walking over to sit next to Sonic on the bed once Sonic pats the spot next to him. “Yeah, you know, like– dude attitude?” “Oh,” Shadow smiles a bit at this, looking down and discreetly brushing the dirty sock out of sight under the bed with his heel before Sonic can see and be embarrassed, “Yes. Dudeitude is a very accurate word for you, I’d say.”

Sonic snickers at that, smiling all wide as he looks at Shadow. Shadow shyly keeps his eyes away, looking around the room and examining the smaller details like the subtle footprints on the ceiling or the jar with one singular owl feather on the nightstand.

“...So..,” Sonic says after a pause, breathing a quiet sigh before speaking, “What do you think??” “Think?” Shadow questions, finally meeting Sonic’s intense gaze again. “Yeah. Of.. ya’know. My family?” “Oh,” Shadow blinks, a bit thrown off by the question before he offers a soft look and mumbles quietly, “They’re really lovely.”

“They are, aren’t they?” Sonic smirks. “Mm,” Shadow nods, his eyes drifting away from Sonic’s and down to his own lap as he fiddles with the zipper of his jacket, “...What do you think they think?” “Hm?”

“Of me..?”

There’s a long pause of silence, and Shadow isn’t sure if that’s good or bad. But when he brings himself to look back at Sonic, he sees he’s simply thinking his answer over rather than answering immediately.

“I think Mom likes you,” he starts, offering a reassuring smile, “But she’s the easy one to win over, honestly. Tails seems to like talking nerd with you, so that’s totally a good sign! Knuckles is an idiot,” Sonic rolls his eyes and Shadow smirks slightly, “but I think he sees you as strong and formidable which means you have his respect. That’s all you can really ask for of him, honestly. It’s a pretty high honor.”

“And what of your father..?”

Sonic looks at Shadow, tilting his head at him with a sympathetic sort of smile, “..He seems to like you enough to give you a chance. And I think what you said out there about being the change you wanna see in the world definitely won you some brownie points.”

Shadow deflates in relief, some of the tension leaving his rigid spines as he nods and looks down with a mumbled, “Good.. then I’m doing well.” “You’re doing great,” Sonic assures, his hand moving to rest on Shadow’s shoulder and giving it a small squeeze.

Shadow looks back at Sonic at this, not being able to convey it with words but hoping his eyes show how much he appreciates this. All of this. This opportunity and this bond..

This chance.

Shadow’s hand moves to rest on Sonic’s knee as his way of trying to show he acknowledges the reassurance, but Sonic’s face does this funny thing and his ears get all pink.

“Okay!” he’s suddenly standing, Shadow’s hand dropping back to his own lap, “Well, we should head back down! I wanna be there when they pick a movie, so Knuckles doesn’t make us watch Planet of the Apes for the billionth time!” His laugh seems a bit shaky, his face flushed.

“Are you okay??”

“Me?? I’m cool. Coolcoolcoolcoolcool–”

“Hey,” Shadow interrupts, standing to shove Sonic’s shoulder, “Bring the dudeitude back.”

Sonic pauses, blinking at Shadow before a little grin forms and be breathes, “Right. Dudeitude.”

Shadow nods with a small smile, not at all realizing the affect he has on this blue hedgehog, but not wanting him to be nervous around him either.

They got back down the ladder to find Tails and Knuckles have finished the dishes and Tom has finished putting away leftovers, leaving Maddie and Ozzie sitting on the couch flipping through Netflix for something to watch.

“Hey you two! You’re just in time to pick a movie,” Maddie greets, “Shadow, you have a preference?” Shadow offers a small shake of his head, “No ma’am, I don’t know many films..”

He was brought up on a space station in the 50s. Movies weren’t exactly on-demand.

“That’s alright. We’ll have to fix that!” she winks, making Shadow’s stomach flip at the idea of them potentially inviting him over for more movie nights in the future, “Sonic, you got a pick??”

“Let’s watch a heartfelt film about a man who loves his dog–,” Sonic begins his answer with zero hesitation, Tom walking into the room to shut that down real quick.

“We’re not watching John Wick,” he grunts as he plops onto the couch next to Maddie, throwing his arm on the back of the couch behind her, “Nothing that isn’t PG.” Sonic groans, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms, “You guys are no fun.” “Yeah, it’s in the dad job description,” Tom coos with a smirk.

Sonic concedes, shrugging and walking towards the loveseat against the wall diagonal to the couch, “We can sit here, Shads.”

“I thought your spot was in the bean bag??” Shadow’s brow furrows, sitting beside Sonic on the loveseat nonetheless.

Sonic’s body tenses a bit, blushing as he fumbles, “Uh, well–” “Yeah, Sonic,” Mr. Wachowski teases from the couch, “Why don’t you sit in your bean bag like usual??”

Sonic’s puffs his cheeks with a glare at his dad, Mrs. Wachowski swatting at the snickering man’s shoulder with a huffed, “Leave him alone.” “Yeah! Leave me alone!” Sonic agrees, throwing a pillow at his father’s face.

Tom grunts when it hits him, huffing as he tosses it back at Sonic with an offended face, “Since when was this abuse the father night??” “Since you decided to challenge the world’s best hero,” Sonic smirks proudly.

The banter continues, but Shadow is completely lost on any of what just happened anyway. He just finds the interaction between the family members amusing.

And Sonic does not in fact sit in his bean bag.

Tails and Knuckles join them in the living room, Tails carrying a bucket of popcorn and Knuckles having a bowl of grapes. Shadow doesn’t think he could eat another single thing even if he wanted– which is what he tells Sonic when he asks if Shadow would like any snacks.

They all come to an agreement on a movie called Wreck It Ralph. The plot being something along the lines of a videogame character that somehow has thoughts and feelings and doesn’t want to be the bad guy he was written to be.

It sounds silly in concept, but Shadow can’t take his eyes off the screen the whole time.

It’s not until he feels Sonic shivering a bit beside him that Shadow averts his attention to the blue hedgehog beside him. Shadow has been sitting up straight watching the film this entire time, but Sonic is curled in a small ball leaning against the arm of the chair next to him and watching with tiny shivers now and then. It is chilly in this room, Shadow supposes. But he never gets cold, so..

It doesn’t take but a moment for him to decide to take his jacket off and carefully drape it over Sonic’s curled up form.

“You don’t have to–”

“Hush. The movie is playing,” Shadow mumbles, ignoring how precious Sonic looks all huddled under his coat with only his nose, big eyes, and perked ears peeking above the collar. The way Sonic’s eyes squint in the corners let him know he’s smiling..

Shadow’s attention turns back to the movie, unbeknownst to him his warm gesture was noted by his counterpart’s parents and had Maddie smiling all soft with a silent ‘aw’ as she leans over on her husband who just smiles as well.

The movie’s ending has Shadow feeling certain ways.

Ralph is still the bad guy, but he’s.. happy with that. He knows his purpose, and he knows the candy princess speedster will still accept him despite his destructive tendencies.

It..perhaps hits him a little close to home, and when he Ralph is chanting the villain support group’s affirmation, he finds himself memorizing it to heart.

‘I’m bad, and that’s good. I will never be good, and that’s not bad. There’s no one I’d rather be than me.’

Shadow gasps when Ralph sacrifices himself for the others in the arcade, eyes wide and glossy on the screen and his heart pounding in his chest. He feels like he can’t swallow. Like his palms are sweating. He’s seeing stars fly past him. Seeing the ARK get further and further away as he falls. Seeing–

He feels a hand rest on his and squeeze tight, flinching at the touch and immediately looking over to find Sonic staring wide eyed at the screen too..

They’re both seeing the same thing..

Shadow squeezes Sonic’s hand in return, finally allowing a deep breath to exhale as he relaxes again and looks back to the screen.

They’re here. Not space. Not the ARK. Here..

And there’s nowhere Shadow would rather be than here.

The movie ends. Maddie moves to carefully and silently step next to the bean bag Tails is laying in, the poor fox having fallen asleep around when Ralph was building Vanellope’s race track. She carries the kit down to his room to tuck him in, Knuckles rising from his own bean bag and stretching his muscles before announcing that he too would be retiring for the night.

He wishes his family goodnight and offers Shadow a simple nod of his head and smirk before heading out to his shed.

Tom looks over to Sonic and Shadow. Sonic is now properly wearing Shadow’s jacket and sitting up again, Shadow next to him looking back to Tom as if awaiting what they’re expected to do next.

“Well, Sonic. I think it’s time to call it a night,” the father announces, Sonic’s ears folding back at this and a small pout forming on his muzzle.

“Aw, but we’re not even tired,” he ironically says just before yawning. Shadow chuckles a bit at this and Tom just smiles and raising a brow at Sonic. Sonic groans and stands up, “Alright..” Shadow stands as well, looking to see Maddie now coming back up from the basement.

“We’ll walk you out, Shadow,” Tom offers, Shadow nodding politely as they all move towards the door.

Once outside, Tom immediately takes notice in Shadow’s bike sitting at the end of the driveway. “Did you ride that here???”

There it is.

He seems impressed as he looks the bike over the best he can from the doorway, Shadow looking to his bike as well now.

“I did,” the hybrid nods.

“What kind?” “Ducati Panigale V4 SP.”

“The Dark Rider??” “Yes sir.”

“Nice. Helmets?” “Two.” “Very nice,” Tom smirks, nodding approvingly as he looks back to Shadow.

Shadow just smiles small and proud, pleased his plot to impress the Donut Lord with his motorbike came to fruition.

“That mean I can go for a ride on it??” Sonic chimes in.

“No,” Maddie answers instead, the blue hedgehog knitting his brows and looking at Tom in preparation to protest only for Tom to wink at him and subtly nod.

Sonic grins. Shadow hums out a chuckle.

“It was really nice meeting you properly, Shadow,” Maddie says warmly, reaching out her hand to shake Shadow’s. Shadow obliges and shakes hers politely with a nod, “Likewise, Mrs. Wachowski.” “Glad we could see this version of you,” Tom adds, reaching to shake Shadow’s hand now, “Ya’know. The version that isn’t set on destroying the world.”

Shadow is about to get nervous at this, but he sees the playful smirk on Tom’s face. Glad to know where Sonic gets his sarcastic attitude.

“I appreciate the opportunity, sir,” Shadow chuckles breathily, shaking the Donut Lord’s hand.

“I’m sure we’ll be seeing you around more often,” Tom adds with a knowing smile, “So long as you take care of my son, that is.”

Sonic groans audibly, flushing as he rubs a hand down his face.

Shadow just nods seriously at this, seeming to take this task to heart.

They both speak at the same time.

“We’re not like that!” “I will.”

They blink. Each processing the other’s words as wide eyes meet in surprise. Both blushing. Both seeming to try and register what the other just said.

Maddie and Tom stare with wide eyes too.

“Ooo..,” Tom hisses, “Awkward..” Maddie is quickly grabbing her husband to pull him inside, chuckling awkwardly as she goes, “Well, be safe going home, Shadow.” “Yeah, take care!’

The door shuts.

Sonic and Shadow stand alone on the doorstep, still staring at each other.

Sonic, never being one to stay quiet long, is the one to speak first.

“You will..?” he breathes a little smile at that, looking shy now as he rubs the back of his neck with a blushing muzzle, “What did you mean by you will?”

“I meant I’d take care of you,” Shadow states as though it’s obvious, though he’s starting to fear he has in fact had a very deep and embarrassing misunderstanding of their circumstances. His ears stand extra tall, tensing them up so they don’t droop back in disappointment.

“We.. aren’t like that..? I don’t understand.” “I-... you thought we were like that??” “I thought that’s what all this was,” Shadow says quietly, becoming more and more embarrassed as he reruns all this in his head, “You chasing me. Insisting on being in my life. Always planning to meet again. All the circling and snorting and puffing–”

Sonic deadpans, “the what?” “Hedgehog courting rituals!” Shadow huffs, now getting irritated the more he grows humiliated, “All my research talked about it! It’s clearly stated that everything you were doing to pursue me was as a mate.” Sonic’s eyes widen further at this, ears drooping back and now his entire chest and ears are pink too.

“Mate??..,” his voice is small as realization begins to build.

“And then you invited me over to meet your parents for their approval, yes??” Shadow asks, tilting his head with a knit of his brow as he tries to understand where he misread the signs, “That was the objective??” “Woah, hey. Shadow. The objective was to have their approval on me getting to hang out with you, not–”

He stops, seeing how Shadow’s ears twitch back a bit. How his stance is now a bit more drooped than tall and confident. How his eyes hold confusion and shame..

It breaks Sonic’s heart.

Sonic purses his lips, sighing as he looks away shyly and, “...I guess I kinda did do all that, huh??”

Shadow doesn’t answer, just slowly moves to cross his arms in a defensive sort of manner. His crimson eyes averted towards the ground.

Sonic chews on his lower lip and looks back to Shadow, “I’m a hedgehog. Not an earth hedgehog, though, ya’know?? I don’t even know how my kind of hedgehog would try to initiate a–... what’d you call it??” “Courtship,” Shadow mutters.

“Right. That,” Sonic sighs, frowning at how this night took a sudden turn for the awkward and heavy.

It had been going so well.

“...I’m sorry, Shads–” “Don’t-,” Shadow interrupts, eyes closing as he takes a deep breath to gather himself, finishing with a sighed, “--apologize. I shouldn’t have made so many assumptions. That’s not your fault.” “Well, I feel like it kinda is,” Sonic insists, brows knit at the ebony hedgehog in front of him.

This can’t ruin this. He can’t lose him.

“Look..,” Sonic says after a breath, rubbing a hand back through his own quills before pausing to notice Shadow’s eyes were still shut, “Hey… look at me, Shads.”

Sonic’s hand reaches up to delicately cup Shadow’s cheek, tilting his head up to face him as crimson eyes open to meet emerald.

Sonic offers a soft smile, “I know I’m all about going fast, but...we don’t need to rush this.”

Shadow blinks, staying quiet as he listens to the blue hero speak.

“I.. don’t know what we are,” Sonic admits quietly, “I thought we were just buddies, but.. I’d be kidding myself if I said I didn’t know you were different for me.” Shadow chews on the inside of his cheek, still not saying anything in fear of saying the wrong thing and humiliating himself further.

“..I think.. We can take this slow, huh??” Sonic offers, a small smile as he knits his brows up and tilts his head at his rival, “Learn each other better. Learn ourselves better. Maybe go on some actual dates..?” Sonic chuckles a bit and Shadow can’t help but lean his cheek into Sonic’s palm slightly.

Sonic rubs his thumb along Shadow’s muzzle.

“We’ll figure this out,” he assures simply as if it’s just a fact of life, “Because I’m not goin’ anywhere. And even if you tried to, I’d find you, Faker.”

Shadow can’t help but smile at that, chuckling at the reference to one of their not-so-friendly first encounters. He looks down between them a moment before lifting his eyes back to Sonic.

“We’ll figure this out,” Shadow agrees with a nod.

“We’ve got plenty of time.” “Plenty.”

Sonic smiles at this, breathing a small sigh of relief through his nose that they’re gonna be okay. This misunderstanding won’t ruin or change anything.

“We just gotta learn how to communicate better, dude,” Sonic chuckles, Shadow humming amusedly as well.

“Agreed.”

Sonic smirks at this. And maybe he looks at Shadow’s eyes a little too long or lets his hand linger on his cheek a bit longer than needed, but sue him.

He just found out Shadow the Hedgehog wants to court him.

Screw that. He just found out what the heck courting even was.

Sonic needs to get educated, he decides.

Shadow ever so subtly rubs his cheek against Sonic’s palm in a nuzzling sort of manner before he takes a step back, Sonic’s hand falling back to his side. The two smile at one another a moment longer before Shadow just smirks with a “hmph” and turns to walk down the front steps.

Sonic watches with a content little smile, “...Wanna race tomorrow??” Shadow keeps walking, not turning around as he responds, “Arcade or waffle house??”

“Waffle house. I’ve been craving french toast.”

Shadow chuckles, waving a hand up at the hedgehog over his shoulder with a nod.

Sonic just grins at this, biting his lower lip before flinching at the sudden realization–

“Oh! Shadow!”

Shadow turns to face him again as Sonic quickly makes his way down the steps and across the yard to him, moving to take Shadow’s jacket off himself– though Shadow notices the slight look of loss as Sonic removes his arm from the first sleeve.

“You forgot this–” “Keep it,” Shadow interrupts, lifting his hand to halt Sonic.

“..Really??” Sonic’s tail wags behind him, a smile curling back onto his muzzle.

“Looks better on you,” Shadow insists, moving to help Sonic put his arm back in and settle it properly on his shoulders once more.

Sonic just beams at this, “Agree to disagree, pal,” his gaze softens as Shadow looks him over, “But thanks..”

Shadow just smirks at this, shrugging and turning to his bike, “Don’t mention it.”

Sonic shoves his hands in the jacket’s pockets, crossing his arms so that it’s snug around him.

It smells like lavender.. Like a hug from Shadow.

Shadow straddles his bike, looking back to find Sonic standing there with his eyes shut and his nose buried in the jacket’s collar. He smirks smugly.

“It’s called anointing, by the way.” “Huh??” Sonic jumps slightly, jolting from his daze.

“Covering yourself in your mate’s scent,” Shadow explains, placing the helmet he doesn’t actually use in the bag attached to his bike before finishing, “It’s called anointing.”

Sonic blinks, eyes widening as a blush grows on his cheeks with a sheepish, “oh..”

Shadow just cranks his bike up, revving it to life before looking back to Sonic with a wink, “See you tomorrow, Hedgehog.”

Sonic’s left feeling dumbstruck as Shadow drives off from their home and down the street before eventually disappearing with a roar of the engine.

Sonic may not know it yet, but Shadow knows..

They’re absolutely courting.

68 notes · View notes

heliads · 7 months ago

Note

Aaaaah so glad I made it in time x3 your writing is godsent and being able to request something fills my cold heart with joy!

Okay so I rewachted Descendants and just... imagine if Carlos has to live together/spend time with a villain kid that got adopted and raised by the big bad wolf (I checked and yes that is a Disney villain!).

For some plot... (my mind comes up with something funny so do not expect too much lol) maybe taking place during Descendants 2 (with Uma) and somehow the crew has taken Carlos and Little Bad Wolf has to keep an eye on him? Except that little bad wolf gets seasick "Dude this ship isnt even on open sea, how are you feeling sick?" "shut up!"

'get him back' - carlos de vil

masterlist

The pirates never should have taken Carlos.

It was a stupid move, really. Stupid to get Mal on their bad side, but even worse to kidnap Carlos. As if Mal wouldn’t do anything in this world or the next to get her friend back. As if anyone who dared to stand in her way would not find themselves lost to the salt of the sea if they didn’t immediately back down.

Uma didn’t learn that lesson soon enough, but she will. It doesn’t matter that she was a formidable foe, the moment she made the fight personal by kidnapping Carlos, it was all over. Mal’s got an unsettling edge to her voice, the sort of dark and twisted tone that makes you follow her orders without question. Villain kids don’t like doing what they’re told, but in this case, you’re all of the same mind. What matters the most is getting Carlos back. Your egos can wait until after your friend is back by your side.

Uma’s ship came by in the dead of night and took Carlos when he was walking around unawares. They must have all attacked at once, half a dozen pirates against one boy, because there’s no way Carlos would go down without a fight. There are clear signs of a scuffle on the roads where they took him away, obviously not the clean abduction Uma was hoping for, but the facts remain. Carlos is gone, and you need to get him back as soon as possible.

Mal has already drawn up a rescue plan. She’s enchanted a small boat to be silent and almost invisible in the dark waters; once night falls, you’ll sneak up to Uma’s ship and get your boy back. One of you will sneak on board and find Carlos, then dodge the pirates meant to be guarding him and bring him back to your ship. You’ll have to wait until the right time to make your escape, though, so you can immediately land at a local deck and make your getaway. Uma can beat you in water, but you’re faster on land, so everything has to be timed perfectly.

You’re the one who’s been assigned to the difficult task of slipping onto Uma’s ship. As the adoptive child of the Big Bad Wolf, you’re well trained in the art of sneaking around and blending in. You’re the perfect spy, so to speak, so you’re the best bet the VKs have at going unnoticed by the pirates on that ship.

Even though you know the official reason for your selection is simply that you’re the best among Mal’s VKs at staying under the radar, you can’t help a rush of pride at being the one selected for the task. When Carlos looks up to see his savior, you’re glad it’s going to be you. You want to be the one on his mind when he thinks of safety. You, not Evie or someone else. Just you.

The credit for this rescue, though, should rightly be shared among all members of your friend group. Right now, Mal, Ben, Jay, and Evie are on Mal’s cloaked boat, drawing close to Uma’s ship. It slides by before you, cresting the indigo waves, so close you could reach out and touch it with one hand. Right under it, you’re struck by the size of the ship. Carlos could be anywhere. This might take longer than you thought.

Mal nods at you. “It’s time.”

You nod back, standing up carefully and reaching for the rope ladder one of the pirates forgot to pull up on the side of the ship. Tugging it quietly to test its strength, you pull yourself up slowly hand over hand, pausing just before you reach the top so you can survey the deck and see how many pirates are there.

Not expecting an attack this late at night, Uma’s crew has left the deck mostly unmanned. Two pirates are idly chatting near the helm, keeping the ship on its course, and there’s a guy up in the crow’s nest, although he’s nodded off instead of keeping a good watch on any possible intruders. You crawl over the railing as quietly as you dare, sticking to the shadows to avoid notice. Oil lamps cast pools of sticky yellow light on the ground, and you skirt them as best you can, all the while making for the stairs leading to the lower parts of the ship. Your steps are silent, each taken with the fear of causing a loose board to creak and alert the crew to your presence.

Once belowdecks, you can breathe a little easier. Most of the sounds you hear are of snoring and sleeping pirates, although a few still remain awake even despite the late hour. Without the stars and moon bleeding white light overhead, the halls are darker, giving you more room to bleed into the shadows and avoid detection. A few times, someone pokes their head out of their door or shifts around a little, causing you to freeze in your tracks, heart hammering in your chest, but you still manage to come out of each close shave without getting caught.

The further you go into the ship, though, the worse you feel. Despite living on an island for most of your life, you never really had a chance to get on a boat before, and you can say decisively that you don’t enjoy the feeling. You like solid ground, a floor that doesn’t rock, and the stability of knowing there isn’t empty water under your feet at any moment. Uma’s ship lilts and turns every few seconds as it crosses the waves, and it leaves you feeling drained of all strength before you’ve even spent ten minutes inside.

You’re not here to complain, though, you’re here to rescue Carlos. You push past your growing nausea and keep peering in doors, searching for the room holding your friend. Before long, you spot it– a locked door at the end of the hall, a flash of white hair inside. It’s meant to be guarded by two pirates, but they’ve obviously grown bored of their post and settled in for a game of cards a few paces away. Perfect. You cause a small distraction by knocking a can to the ground down the hall, and hurriedly pick the lock while they go rushing off in the opposite direction.

You swing yourself inside the cell and shut the door again just before they look back. Grinning, you allow yourself one moment of quiet victory before you’re engulfed in a rush of red and black and white.

Instantly, your body is on high alert, but you manage to calm down when you realize you’re not being attacked by a pirate but one of Carlos’ fierce hugs. He pulls back a second later, beaming ear to ear. “Y/N! What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

You laugh quietly. “You can thank Mal for that, she dropped everything to come rescue you once we found out you’d been kidnapped.”

Carlos punches the air triumphantly. “Perfect! Let’s get out of here. Pirates stink.”

You shake your head. “It’s not that simple, unfortunately. We have to wait an hour or so for Uma’s ship to pass by land. That way, we can escape onto the peninsula without trying to sail back or she’d catch us.”

Carlos’ face falls. “You’re telling me I have to stay in this rat’s nest even longer?”

You frown sympathetically. “I know, trust me, but we have no choice. She’d catch us if we tried to just sail away. And believe me, I’d like nothing more than to get out of here. I hate this ship.”

As if proving your point, the ship hits a sudden burst of waves and you nearly lose your balance and your dinner along with it. Carlos catches you before you fall, hurriedly bringing you over to a small, hard looking couch along the side of the cell.

“Hey, easy there. Don’t go getting sick on my watch. You can lie down and try to regain your spirits while we wait for Mal, alright?” He says.

You close your eyes gratefully. “Thanks, Carlos.”

He giggles. “No problem. Although I can’t believe you feel this bad already, we’re not even out of the bay. This ship isn’t in the open ocean, how are you seasick? The water is practically dead still.”

“Shut up,” you mutter under your breath, fighting another bout of nausea.

Carlos laughs again, but thankfully remains silent. You have no doubt that he’ll be bringing it up again soon, though, probably to win an argument about which VK is the toughest.

You’d like to clear your good name, of course, but the rocking of the ship silences you again, keeping you absolutely still and silent on the tough couch. Carlos, sensing your obvious discomfort, tries to distract you by talking. He keeps his voice quiet so he doesn’t attract the attention of the guards outside, and the soft lull of his words spilling out into the darkness of your lidded eyes makes you wish for sleep.

Carlos talks about how surprised he was when he was kidnapped, how glad he was to see you, what he plans on doing after you break him out of here, what he was supposed to be doing when Uma and her pirates took him in the first place. Carlos has always been a good talker, but you’re extra glad for it now.

When he pauses for breath, you laugh quietly and say, “I thought I was supposed to be the one saving you, but it looks like it might be the other way around.”

Eyes still closed, you can tell Carlos is smiling by the soft exhale he lets out. “I’d say freeing me from a pirate ship is a bigger deal than distracting you from seasickness. I’ll still give you this win.”

“That’s awfully generous of you,” you hum.

“Yeah, well, I’m a generous guy,” Carlos tells you. “It’s no problem when it’s you, though. I’d do anything for you.”

When you dare to crack open your eyelids, he looks more serious than you’ve ever seen him. All of a sudden, the breath is low and careful in your lungs not because of the churning waters beneath you, but because of him. Always because of him.

“Carlos,” you begin quietly.

“No,” he says, more determinedly, “I’m serious. I like you, Y/N. I really do. Seasick or not. I’ve liked you for a while, and if I was going to be stuck in a cell in a pirate ship with anyone, I’d want it to be you. You were the best part about the Isle of the Lost and the best part of Auradon. I can go anywhere if you’re with me. You don’t have to feel the same, I just– I thought you should know.”

You sit up carefully. “I do feel the same way.”

Carlos’ mouth drops. “Really?”

“Is that so much of a surprise?” You ask, laughing slightly. “I’ve followed you everywhere since we first met. We’re practically inseparable. The only reason I wasn’t kidnapped along with you is because I got distracted by Evie needing help finding a pair of matching shoes. You’re my home too, Carlos. You always have been.”

His smile is brilliant in the darkness. “I couldn’t be happier to hear it. Except maybe when we get off this ship.” He extends a hand to you. “How about we make our escape?”

You take it, letting Carlos pull you up. “I’d like nothing more.”

It feels like your entire life has opened up before you. If it takes a kidnapping, a pirate ship, and terrible storms for the two of you to finally confess your feelings, it might just be worth it after all. You’ve got Carlos, and that’s worth more than all the treasure in the world.

requested by @reinekes-fox, i hope you enjoy!

disney tag list: @blondsauduun, @lovesanimals0000, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @faerieroyal, @goldfish4403

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#carlos de vil #carlos de vil imagines #carlos de vil x reader #carlos de vil oneshot #descendants #descendants imagines #descendants x reader #descendants oneshot #descendants carlos #descendants carlos imagines #descendants carlos x reader #descendants carlos oneshot #disney #disney imagines #disney x reader #disney oneshot

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thrutheriff-if · 1 year ago

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Thru the Riff is an 18+ interactive fiction revolving around music and the paranormal. It follows you, a journalist working for Star-Dust Magazine, in your newest gig of “interviewing” the members of the “hottest rock band” around, MANHUNT. You’ll work to uncover the bands secrets in your own… creative ways, and find out the truths as to why their stardom is surrounded by scandal.

Content Warnings: violence, foul language, suggestive themes, substance abuse, possession and other paranormal related themes, and more.

You’ve spent the past three years of your life trying to climb the corporate ladder at Star-Dust Magazine, a magazine focusing on the secrets and personal lives of the biggest bands and musicians of your time. You were hired as a journalist alongside your best friend, and have worked on countless jobs and interviews together, most of them being your best work despite your bosses trepidation.

However, your most recent jobs have seemingly all ended as busts, your boss describing them as “fluff pieces” rather than the raw, true pieces that she wants. She’s given you an ultimatum: give her something truly fitting for Star-Dust, or she’ll refer you to a different career path.

Seemingly at rock bottom, you’re given a golden opportunity — MANHUNT, one of the biggest rock bands around, has gone viral for a scandal revolving around one of the members volatile departure from the band. It’s the perfect opportunity to use the bands mystery to your advantage.

The bad news? MANHUNT has never accepted written or filmed interviews that they can’t control, and they’ve refused countless interview invitations from Star-Dust in the past. The good news? Now with their rhythm guitarist very publicly leaving the band, they have to open auditions to replace her.

If only things could be as simple as they seem.

Customize your main characters gender, pronouns, physical appearance, personality and views. As well as choose their skill and interest in music, and their belief in the occult. Do they like the kind of music MANHUNT creates? Can they play any instruments themselves? Do they believe in any sort of occult or spiritual beings? How do those questions tie together? Only one way to find out.

Audition to join the band! MANHUNT needs a new rhythm guitarist, and you see this as the perfect opportunity to get an insider look on the band. Will you be genuine or secretive with your audition? Meet your future bandmates and impress or disappoint them.

Choose from four romance options; MANHUNT’s distant lead singer who has more secrets than they let on, MANHUNT’s drummer who has integrated you into the band without complaint, your guitar tech who has taken a special interest in you, or your best friend who has tagged along for the job.

Develop friendships with the rest of the band and help or destroy MANHUNT’s public image.

Oh, and don’t forget to write your piece for Star-Dust, your job literally depends on it. Find out as much as you can. Find out too much. Don’t get hurt.

Maxim / Maxine “Max” Hawke (RO, gender selectable) — The rather broody lead singer of MANHUNT. Max is the perfect fit for a rockstar, broody in their personal life but an all-out force of energy on stage, wooing crowds of thousands (and mortifying their parents) without issue. As personable as they appear to be on stage, they seem like they want nothing to do with you. It’ll be difficult getting close to them, especially with how odd they seem to be acting offstage.

Roman / Romona Woods (RO, gender selectable) — MANHUNT’s drummer who has a roguish appearance with a heart of gold. They may not look like the most approachable of people, but they’ll surprise you with their boundless energy and bubbly social skills. They’re the most accepting of your arrival to the band so far and are genuinely excited to get to know you.

Beck Moreau (RO, they/them) — Your own personal guitar tech! Well, not technically yours as they used to be Willa’s tech before she left but, regardless they’re tagging along to MANHUNT’s shows and maintaining your equipment for you. They’re loud and can be pretty irritating, and they seem to have a special interest in pushing your buttons. Can you handle the headache they give you?

Gabriel / Gabrielle Moretti (RO, gender selectable) — Your quiet, kind hearted best friend from your childhood. The two of you have been thick as thieves since you were young, and somehow you found yourselves tackling the same career path in adulthood. They’re kind and have been there for you throughout your struggles working for Star-Dust. They decided to come along with you on your newest job to “keep you safe” but, is that really… it?

… and be prepared to meet the rest of the band!

Finn Kellett (he/him), MANHUNT’s perpetually tired manager, Nex Warren (he/they), MANHUNT’s apathetic bassist who couldn’t care less about your arrival, Juliet Beckford (she/her), MANHUNT’s energetic lead guitarist who has a special interest in the unknown, and Willa Perez (she/her), MANHUNT’s rhythm guitarist before you came along, of whom you know very little about.

Author’s Note: Thru the Riff is a passion project of mine (Wil) and Elliot’s, so development will be entirely based on our free time and understanding of how to create our first interactive fiction. We hope you’ll enjoy what we create!

#interactive fiction #interactive novel #interactive game #choice of games #cog #cog game #interact if #interact-if #dashingdon #if wip #interactive fiction wip #upcoming if #hosted games #if #thrutheriff #thrutheriff if

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merwgue · 2 months ago

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Introduction: The Inner Circle—Prythian's Pinnacle of Elitism

Ah, the Inner Circle. We’ve been told they are the champions of freedom, the guardians of goodness, the leaders of a new, fairer Prythian. At the helm, Rhysand and his merry band of elite soldiers, spies, and diplomats would have us believe that they are a beacon of morality, integrity, and justice in a world rife with corruption and cruelty. But is that really the case?

The truth is, for all their talk about fairness and equality, the Inner Circle is a tight-knit clique of power-hungry elitists, operating behind closed doors, making decisions that benefit themselves first and foremost. They may wrap themselves in the guise of the protectors of the downtrodden, but at their core, they are just as hypocritical, privileged, and out of touch as any of the villains they claim to despise. In fact, they might just be worse, because they have the audacity to act as though their privilege makes them better—more enlightened, more justified in their actions.

So, let’s dissect these so-called heroes, one by one, and see just how elitist, manipulative, and self-serving they really are.

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Argument: The Inner Circle—A Case Study in Elitism

Rhysand: The High Lord of Moral Superiority

Rhysand, the self-anointed savior of Prythian, is the poster child for disguised elitism. He masquerades as a progressive leader, but peel back the layers, and what you find is a ruler who thrives on control. Rhysand isn’t just the High Lord of the Night Court—he’s the king of moral superiority, looking down on everyone from his lofty throne of righteousness.

Sure, he says he’s for equality and freedom. He claims to fight for the good of the people. But what does he actually do? Let’s take Velaris, his perfect little utopia, hidden from the rest of the world. While Velaris flourishes, the Court of Nightmares festers in squalor and fear, serving as the dirty underbelly of Rhysand’s pristine world. He never bothers to reform Hewn City—oh no, he needs it just the way it is, a place where he can flex his power and superiority whenever it suits him. The citizens of Hewn City? Well, they don’t matter. They’re just the pawns in his game, existing to bolster his reign.

And let’s not forget his relationship with Feyre. Rhysand may parade around as the epitome of respect and love, but make no mistake: he’s always in control. From hiding their mating bond to orchestrating her role in the Night Court, Rhys pulls the strings and Feyre dances along. His actions scream “I know best,” and why wouldn’t they? He’s convinced that only he is smart enough, only he is powerful enough to do what’s necessary to save Prythian—even if it means bending a few minds, breaking a few rules, and making everyone else think it was their choice all along. Manipulation, after all, is Rhysand’s true craft, and he’s a master of making his elitism look like benevolence.

Feyre: The Nepotism Queen

Then there’s Feyre, our humble protagonist-turned-High-Lady who skyrocketed from a poor, illiterate human into one of the most powerful figures in the world. But let’s be real here—Feyre didn’t climb the ladder through hard work or merit. She fell in love with Rhysand, and with that union came a direct elevator ride to the top.

Feyre may have been born into poverty, but ever since she became High Lady, she’s lived in a bubble of privilege. Velaris is her kingdom of starlight, where she spends her days painting and redecorating her river house, while the rest of the world struggles to recover from war. Her empathy is selective at best—sure, she destroyed Tamlin’s court under the guise of justice, but did she ever stop to think about the people living there? The families who depended on their lands for survival? Of course not. Her personal vendetta against Tamlin was far more important than the lives of those fae. After all, the rules don’t apply when you’re Feyre Archeron—especially when you’re backed by the High Lord of the Night Court.

And while Feyre may now hold the title of High Lady, don’t be fooled into thinking she’s earned it through any political savvy or leadership skills. No, her place in the Inner Circle is due to one thing: her connection to Rhysand. It’s nepotism at its finest, wrapped up in a pretty bow of self-righteousness.

Cassian: The Hero with a Savior Complex

Cassian, the brute force of the Inner Circle, is constantly playing the part of the good-natured, relatable warrior. He’ll tell anyone who’ll listen about his rough upbringing in the Illyrian camps, as if that somehow makes him immune to the elitism that defines the rest of the group. But here’s the thing: Cassian may have started at the bottom, but now? He’s sitting at the top, living a life of luxury while his people—the Illyrians he’s supposed to care about—are stuck in a cycle of oppression and backward traditions.

Cassian loves to flex his power, both physical and political, while simultaneously acting like he’s just a humble servant of the Night Court. But let’s not forget that his entire identity revolves around being Rhysand’s lapdog. Sure, he’ll fight for his brothers and his court, but when push comes to shove, Cassian isn’t going to challenge the status quo. He’s too comfortable playing the hero to actually get his hands dirty with real change. His elitism is hidden beneath layers of camaraderie and bravado, but it’s there, lurking just beneath the surface.

Morrigan: The Queen of Hypocrisy

Morrigan, the moral compass of the Inner Circle, is perhaps the most hypocritical of them all. She spends centuries railing against her family’s oppressive, regressive ways, yet she remains complicit in the elitist structures of the Night Court. Mor presents herself as a champion of freedom, equality, and justice, but when it comes to taking real action? She’s as stagnant as the rest of them.

Mor’s treatment of Azriel is a prime example of her selective morality. For centuries, she’s let him pine for her, never being honest about her true feelings, all while claiming to value honesty and transparency. She preaches fairness, but when it comes to her own actions, she hides behind the convenient excuse of “complicated feelings.” The truth is, Mor is content with her position of power and privilege, and she’ll never rock the boat as long as it benefits her.

Azriel: The Silent Judge

Azriel, the brooding shadow of the Inner Circle, operates with an air of superiority that’s masked by his quiet demeanor. As the Night Court’s spymaster, he holds everyone’s secrets, wielding them like a weapon when necessary. But for all his talk of loyalty and honor, Azriel’s true allegiance is to his own sense of righteousness. He judges others from the shadows, believing that his pain and suffering give him the right to decide who is worthy and who is not.

Azriel may claim to be a humble servant, but his actions speak otherwise. He holds power over people’s lives with the information he gathers, yet he only uses it when it benefits his circle. His elitism is rooted in his belief that no one else can truly understand the burden he carries—and because of that, he places himself above everyone else, quietly deciding their fates while keeping his own cards close to his chest.

Amren: The Untouchable God-Queen

And finally, we have Amren, the literal embodiment of elitism. She’s not just better than everyone—she’s practically a god, trapped in a fae body, tolerating the rest of the world with barely concealed disdain. Amren operates on a level of superiority so blatant, it’s almost admirable. She doesn’t even try to hide it. Mortals, fae, even her so-called friends in the Inner Circle—Amren sees them all as beneath her.

Her loyalty to Rhysand is purely transactional. She sticks around because it’s convenient, but make no mistake: Amren serves Amren. She doesn’t care about the people of Velaris, or the fate of Prythian. Her elitism is so ingrained, it’s not even a character flaw—it’s simply who she is.

---

Conclusion: The Inner Circle—Elitism, Hypocrisy, and Privilege

So there you have it: the Inner Circle, a group of individuals who cloak their elitism in the guise of heroism. They claim to fight for freedom, equality, and justice, but in reality, they are a self-serving, privileged group of fae who operate above the rules they enforce on everyone else. From Rhysand’s manipulative control to Feyre’s nepotistic rise to power, from Cassian’s savior complex to Mor’s selective morality, and from Azriel’s silent judgment to Amren’s godlike disdain, each member of this circle operates within a bubble of elitism, making decisions that benefit themselves while pretending to serve the greater good.

And we’re supposed to believe they’re the good guys? They might wear the mask of Prythian’s protectors, but make no mistake—behind the starlight and shadows, they are a class of elites that operate under their own rules. At the end of the day, they’ve created their own little world, where they are always right, always justified, and always on top. Their hypocrisy knows no bounds, and their elitism? Well, it’s woven into the very fabric of their existence.

But don’t worry—they’ll still invite you to Velaris… if you’re useful enough.

Taglist: @hrizantemy @flat-neines @foxyfairydream @travelingbandit @naravelia @headfulloflettuce @chococococya @roseadleyn

#acotar #pro tamlin #anti rhysand #anti ic #anti rhys #anti feyre #pro nesta #anti mor #anti inner circle #anti elitism #anti feysand #anti amren #anti morrigan #anti cassian #anti azriel #at least for now #anti acotar

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magics-neptunes-things · 1 year ago

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Recovery

Hi everyone :)

This was asking by someone like probably a year ago, sorry for the wait!

Prompt : have you had a good day? I hope so.someday we can get something from one batlle x reader.where their teammates think they are doing something out of character. But are they really just struggling not to take their medicine?

Maybe it's a little deeper than I thought at first, sorry? But it is a subject that I master rather well so I may have been a little carried away.

I'm still open for any of your ideas or want :)

TW : Oral fight, angst, depression, treatments, swearing.

______________________________________________________________

You’ve never been good at dealing with your emotions since you were a kid. Even if you never lacked anything and your parents always wanted the best for you, you always had a part in you that made you feel that everything you did was not enough. Having a little sister who was successful everywhere you had failed a few years ago probably didn’t help much, especially when you saw how proud your parents were of her. You have always been in the norm, in the average. You always did everything so that no one would notice you, your fear of being a disappointment taking over from the rest.

It worked for many years, until you changed class at school for random reason and ended up with Alessia Russo sitting next to you. For a reason that you never really understood, she got soft spot for you and wanted to become your friend. From the height of your eight years you were delighted and you gladly let yourself be dragged with her on the football fields. That’s when it really started. You found a sport that you liked and something that you really felt good about. Initially skeptical, your parents finally let you play and you climbed the ladder hand in hand with Alessia. The only difference was that you were in front of the goals trying to stop the balls rather than trying to put them in the net.

You and Alessia end up splitting up when she flies to the United States and you stay to play at Chelsea. You were selected to join the national team of England as soon as you were old enough and there too you made your place. At the end of your contract with Chelsea, you signed at Lyon, where you stayed until the summer of 2022. Year of England’s victory at the Euro, in which you participated by playing all the matches until the final. These memories will remain engraved in you forever, but it is also from there that your anxiety began to overtake you.

You didn’t say anything first of all, claiming that it came from your arrival in Barcelona, along with your colleague and friend Lucy Bronze. The latter had taken you under her wing for a long time, having perhaps realized that there was more to scratch under the surface of your smooth and angelic smile. Or maybe Alessia asked her to watch over you, because despite the physical distance between you two, she’s still your best friend.

Alessia introduced you to Ona, playing alongside her at Manchester United for a while. You quickly fell under the spell of the Spanish girl, her good humor, her charming smile and the way she had to sincerely care about others were something we are not used to. She quickly admitted that the feelings were reciprocal, but the geographical distance prevented you from fully living your relationship. When you learned that Ona’s transfer to Barcelona was finally accepted, you finally decided to try everything for everything. Instead of taking an apartment for her, you and Ona looked for an apartment together in which you settled when she arrived in Barcelona.

A few weeks later you were both called into your respective national selections. You knew what was happening in the Spanish squad, Ona having already refused to go there by signing a first petition against its leaders. Her change of heart was very badly perceived by the fans and the criticism she received affected you as much as it did to her. But you have always done your utmost to support her.

Being separated from Ona was not easy during those weeks. You managed to escape from time to time to find each other again, but having not mentioned your relationship outside your circles of friends, you didn't want to be caught by someone. Not to mention you were worried about the possible repercussions for Ona if her federation ever discovered the nature of your relationship.

The first panic attack you had was at the quarter-final against China. The goal you conceded that day was the first of the competition and the failure sensation that gave you was such that you had to lock yourself in the toilet at the end of the game. This is where Alessia found you and you don’t remember exactly how she brought you back to your hotel room, nor how she managed to make sure that Ona could join you there.

The following crises you managed to feel them happen, it was usually the night before the matches, but you also had some after the matches. Lauren, your regular tournament roommate, never realized every night you got up to go breathe fresh air on the balcony, sleeping too deep for that. And it was a relief to you, honestly. You didn’t want to worry anyone, let alone be pitied. Not being able to manage your nerves was a new shame in your eyes.

Except that you didn't win the tournament, losing the final because of a goal conceded. Your fault, finally. None of your teammates told you but you didn’t need to. You knew it. After your last game, you quickly jumped on the first plane back to Barcelona and away from Australia. You rejected your girlfriend’s offer not to go to the celebrations in Spain to stay with you, swearing that you were okay and that she deserved to enjoy what happened to her. If you sincerely thought the second part of the sentence, the first was probably the biggest lie of your life.

When you got to your apartment, you turned off your phone and lived in the dark for two days. Until Lucy shows up in your apartment and fails to break down the door, sent by a panicked Ona not to hear from you. After looking at the mace informs that you were under the sheets of your bed, Lucy pulled you out and took you to the emergency room. They found nothing physical, so you ended up in the psychiatric ward, despite your protests. They diagnosed you with depression and anxiety attacks but allowed you to go out only on the condition that you take your treatment daily.

You did for many weeks, before you realized that it was tiring you and making your abilities on the field less efficient than usual. Spoiler : It wasn’t, but your tortured mind didn’t seem to want to leave you alone.

So, you stopped taking them. To avoid Ona’s attention, you were throwing your daily dose of medication down the toilet. At first, it didn’t change your mood but you felt like you had regained the energy you had before. Except things started to turn the wrong way little by little. The slightest annoyance affected you a little too long and you started to have insomnia again. You briefly tried to take your treatment every two days, but it was worse than anything. So you simply stopped and you tried to silence the aggressive comments of your brain towards yourself. You had worried your girlfriend and friends enough about you.

****************

"Oh god Y/N how are you so clingy all the time?"

The phrase of one of the staff members, thrown in the tone of laughter, makes you raise your look from the screen of the computer on which Ona and you were watching a film. Train trips to another city were always a time when you chose to do something together. No team member seemed disturbed by this, you and Ona were almost tied by the hip at this point. The other couple, aka Ingrid and Mapi are doing the same anyway.

"I- I just…"

Surprised by the remark, you get up without thinking from Ona on which you had leaned your head. But your girl struck down the other woman with her eyes and took you back with authority against her.

"No need to be jealous like that" Lucy jokes from the seat in front of you, where she settled with Alexia.

"I love my clingy girlfriend just like that" Ona points and then put her attention back on the movie, making you to do the same.

You do it without adding anything, looking at the screen, the staff member leaving you to go back to her place. Or at least that’s what you want to make the other believe, your mind starting running. What if she was right and it was too much for Ona? You couldn’t stand a break up with her, she’s your pillar, your beacon in the dark. You try not to let anything appear, from your hands that become sweaty to your heart rate that has increased terribly.

Lost in your thoughts, you don't notice the worried look that Lucy exchanges with Ona between the two seats. Normally, you would have started Lucy’s joke.

Your mind slows down when you feel your girlfriend’s nose briefly caress your temple and then leave room for her lips. She kisses you delicately, making you raise your look on her. Her eyes are sweet, her smile is tender and you can’t help but give it back to her.

"Mi corazoncita"

She whispers and this time you feel your heart racing with love. You are wrong to doubt the sincerity or strength of Ona’s feelings. She has always been there for you, for the best certainly but also for the worst. Especially for the worst.

****************

Unfortunately, these kinds of moments have become more frequent as the days go by. You have started to doubt each of the jokes that are made to you, you get lost in your thoughts and you regularly wake up in the middle of the night, the heart beating way too hard. It sometimes wakes Ona up and you pretend a nightmare, making her cuddle you and help you fall asleep again. When it doesn’t wake her up, you don’t have the heart to do it. So you sneak out from under the sheets to go to your living room and turn on the television, anything that would keep you from thinking again.

All of this added to lack of sleep makes you feel increasingly irritable. You lack patience during training and you even disrespected one of your teammates. You quickly apologized and were forgiven, but it was spotted by others. With the passage of time you started to feel like you were being put in the spotlight, just waiting for the other to make mistakes and point the finger at you.

This was not lacking in the next game, during which you conceded a new goal. Again, you’ve been in a terrible mood all weekend, just refusing to talk to anyone. The worst was probably the guilt that was eating away at you from your behavior. But it quickly became an infernal circle from which you couldn't get out, despite all the goodwill and hands extended by your girlfriend or friends. The worst was yet to come.

****************

You are in Barcelona, receiving the team of Atletico de Madrid. You didn't concede a goal that day and it was with great relief when you heard the whistle of the referee. Alexia scored a goal in the second half, which was enough for the team to win the famous three points. After greeting a few opposing players and congratulating your teammates (giving you a longer time when you found yourself against Ona), you and Lucy went to see Ana Crnogorčević with whom you played last year and whom you always liked.

The discussion was pleasant and you felt relieved and relaxed, like every time you won without conceding goals. While you were talking about Ana’s arrival in Madrid, the image you saw over the shoulder of your interlocutor was like a punch in the stomach.

Ona in full discussion with one of her acquaintances, Carmen Menayo. Really, you could have endured it since your girlfriend is perfectly entitled to have friends outside of you. But seeing that the other player had her hands almost everywhere at once on the body of your girlfriend made you see red. If you had been focused on Ona’s face you would have seen how uncomfortable this behavior made her, but that was the cork of your insecurity bottle.

Unable to see anything else, you only come back to yourself when you realize that Lucy is dragging you somewhere else.

"Come on Kiddo"

Once again your mind is blurred until you find yourself at home, in your apartment, without Ona. Where is she? Certainly enjoying her friend, having a good time with someone in a good mood. Someone who would make her happy. Someone who wouldn’t be you.

The mixture of anxiety, anger and all that has accumulated in recent weeks is about to make you lose your footing and, in a desperate attempt, you begin to walk. You promised Lucy it was okay and you sent her home, even if you don’t remember it right now. You must have been convincing, because she knows full well what happened at the Euro and what you are suffering from.

A few minutes later, the front door finally opens to a hesitant Ona. Needless to say, those minutes seemed like hours.

"Where have you been?" you ask a little too aggressively when you turn to her.

"The girls told me you went home with Lucy, so I showered and come home."

Ona's voice was soft as she drops her bag next to the door. You answer nothing, content yourself with a sarcastic snort. Of course, they were on her side. Could you blame them? No, obviously not. They knew Ona and also knew she deserved better than you.

"Maybe if you had been less busy with your friend, you would have seen me leave."

The sentence was scathing, filled with bitter sarcasm. The quotation marks you used with your fingers when you said the word "friend" might have been funny if it wasn’t so dramatic.

"What are you talking about, Bebita?"

Ona approaches you and tries to place a hand on your arm, but you quickly release her contact.

"Don’t fucking touch me."

An alarm siren has been on for a few minutes in your head, but you ignore it prodigiously. The sensations you feel in your belly are such that you wonder by what miracle you haven't vomited yet.

"By the way, what are you doing here? You should have gone to your bitch’s house, probably had a better night than here with me. Isn’t it what she told you?"

Despite your accusatory tone, Ona has the merit of not getting upset. But you’d rather see her yell at you than see her eyes filled with tears.

"You talk nonsense. Listen, everybody’s worried about you, you haven’t been yourself for a while. Maybe... Maybe you should ask someone for help?"

Tears roll down her cheeks and it’s too much for you. Ona should not have to cry because of you, she is the sweetest, kindest and simply the most perfect girl on earth. The reaction you have, by contrast, is probably the stupidest possible. Trying to push her away from you is probably not the best thing. And yet.

"Not yours anyway. I don’t need you."

"Y/N..."

"No, Ona. The truth is, it’s not that I don’t need you, it’s that I don’t want you here."

You found yourself screaming without even realizing it and the silence that ensued was like death. You may never be able to erase Ona’s expression from your mind. After these few seconds suspended, Ona turns the heels and disappears through the front door of your apartment.

*************

You didn’t hear from Ona in the next days, but it would have been complicated anyway since you threw your phone against a wall shortly after she left, with some other things. Then, you spent your nerves on the cushions of the sofa in your living room before falling into tears when you saw the photos that Ona had taken the habit of hanging on a wire held with tweezers above your television.

Ona didn’t come back either, but that didn’t surprise you. You ruined everything, like every time. Someone knocked on your door several times but you didn't answer, staying motionless, lying on the floor of your kitchen or prostrated in your bathroom. You knew perfectly well that it wasn’t Ona, if it had been her she would have opened the door.

After the game against Atletico, you had two days off and you imagine that your lack of response didn't intrigue many people. Given the fight you had with your girlfriend, they must think you don’t want to see anyone. Girlfriend? Ex, maybe. You don’t know anymore.

On the day you resume training, you completely lost track of time. Daylight then street lights illuminate your ceiling and change the vision of things, but that’s about all you see. You didn’t eat, you didn’t drink, and you couldn’t tell how long you slept. The pain, the emotions have gradually given way to a general anesthesia thanks to which you no longer feel anything. Physically as well as emotionally.

The evening of the day of the resumption of training, you are awakened by the door of your apartment that opens while you were lying in the floor of your kitchen. The footsteps are too heavy for it to be Ona. You don’t even turn your head, too absorbed by the images projected on the ceiling.

"Bloody hell Y/N, what the fuck?!"

Alessia.

Your best friend appears in your field of vision and watches you with a mixture of fair and relief. What is she doing here?

"I came to see if you were still alive, you idiot. Everyone is freaking out and thinks you’re drowning in your bathtub."

You hadn't realized that your thoughts had been spoken aloud.

"It might be better."

Your voice is a whispers. Alessia looks at you from her height and ends up lying next to you, on the cold tiled floor of the apartment you shared with Ona. A few minutes passed and Alessia ended up speaking again.

"You’re in a terrible state. And I’m not talking about your physique."

You don’t answer. You know that.

"You need help, Y/N"

She takes your hand in her and you take a deep breath and close your eyes. You know that, too. But just because you need it doesn’t mean you want it.

"Where is Ona?"

"At Alexia’s."

You imagined that the Latin girl had gone to live with someone else, but during these three days you had imagined her at Menayo's. Knowing that she wasn’t relieves you, even if talking about her lights a flame in your throat that you can’t swallow.

"I've lost her"

It’s not a question you ask Alessia, it’s a statement you make out loud. The blonde sighs and turns her head in your direction. You imagine her thoughts very well, she deserves better than what you are. (Spoiler bis : This isn't what Alessia thinks for a second)

"I’m going to get you out of this apartment and you’re going to go into a place to really heal yourself. Then we’ll see what we can fix."

Except, you don’t want to. Regaining some energy, you shake your head and sit down abruptly and grab her arm.

"No. Don’t make me go to one of these centers, I beg you, Less, please. I’ll do whatever you want."

Your despair seems to touch your best friend, who hesitates, looking at you. She also sat down and bite her lips. You whisper one last plea and she sighs as she passes a hand through her hair.

"At least I’ll take you to the hospital. Maybe they’ll keep you for a few days, but as soon as you get out, I need you to swear to me that you’ll follow your treatment and go to a psychiatrist. It’s not a shame, if you knew how many players should do it too. No one will love you less because you get treatment."

*********

You stay four days in the hospital and Alessia stayed with you until the third day. From there she had to go back to London and you almost threw her out. You refuse that she has any professional difficulties because of you. Your visits are regulated and you had to choose four unique names. Alessia, Lucy, Alexia and Ona. The latter has still not come to see you and you hesitated for a long time before adding her to your list. In the meantime, Alessia had your phone repaired but you weren’t allowed to use it until the last day.

The club masked your absence at training by mentioning an ankle injury, thanks to Lucy’s responsiveness no one noticed your trouble in the last game. Plus, if you have to miss several weeks, it will not seem too surprising. It’s a relief for you, even if you agreed to get treatment, you don’t want the general public to know about it for the moment. Maybe later.

Since you can’t contact Ona by text or phone, you decided to write her a letter. Alexia promised to give it to her, but you are aware that this doesn't mean that she will read it. You often ask your captain about Ona. You know she sleeps at Alexia's sometimes, your's or her parent's. On the third day, you asked Alexia if she thought Ona would come to see you here. Hoping to see her figure walk through the door to find you with one of your three friends was sometimes difficult.

"She needs time" Alexia replied.

You noded, knowing it was perfectly selfish of you to want her here. In your letter, you apologized at length for your behavior and explained everything that happened to you in the last few days. And you told her how much you miss her, too. The discussions you had with the hospital psychiatrist also helped you a lot.

"Have you ever thought about quitting football?"

"What?! Of course not. Football was the reason I met the most important people in my life. It’s the only area where I’m not too bad."

She thought for a few seconds before continuing.

"Okay. But the way you throw yourself under the bus with every goal you take, it’s not healthy. We have to find a solution so that you stop living every goal as a failure."

That was the crux of the problem, unfortunately. But with your new treatment, which you were taking with attention this time, it seemed that you could be a little more optimistic.

***********

On day four, you were allowed out in the late afternoon. In the morning, you were able to get your phone back and with Lucy by your side you turned it on. The number of notifications was such that it crashed and you had to turn it back on. You received countless messages before and after your hospitalization. Ona’s were the hardest to read, of course. After you were hospitalized, she stopped writing to you and the first thing you did was look for her social media accounts. Since the game, she hasn’t posted anything.

You then replied to some of the messages you received, to Alessia or some of your teammates for example. Family and friends, too. With your psychiatrist, you decided to limit social media. So you have removed Twitter from your phone, limited comments on your Instagram posts and your TikTok account is only used to watch videos anyway. You never posted anything with it.

It was Alexia who came to pick you up at your exit and it was good to breathe a little fresh air. You climbed into her car, realizing soon after that she was not going to your apartment or hers.

"Where are we going?"

Curiosity outweighed anxiety, but you didn’t ask yourself where you were going. A look in her direction is enough to remove you from the head she was taking you straight to a rehabilitation center. This treatment was truly miraculous.

"You will see"

The answer was simple, but addressed with a smile that relaxed you quickly. It didn't stop your curiosity but when you left the city, you understood before even arriving at the destination. Alexia was taking you to Villassar de Mar, Ona’s hometown.

"Will I see her?" you asked after a few minutes

Alexia replied with a simple nod, startling when she saw you suddenly stand up on your seat.

"I can’t see her like that, look how dressed I am"

Alexia’s gaze slipped on your clothes, jeans and a sweatshirt that you just stole from Ona. You obviously took a shower before going out, but still. You are far from perfect.

"We don’t care Y/N, really"

"At least let me buy her flowers"

Alexia roll her eyes, but she smiled and stopped at the shop you mentioned to her. This is Ona’s favorite, in one of the villages close to her parent's. On your first date she stopped by and gave you a bouquet of mixed flowers. She told you that she didn’t know which flowers you preferred but that she found those very beautiful.

Needless to say, you opted for the same bouquet.

Arriving in Villassar de Mar, Alexia doesn't take you to your in-laws as you had imagined. She drops you off near one of the beaches full of memories for Ona and you. The windy weather took everyone away from the beach, except for a silhouette that you would recognize between a thousand. Sitting against one of the rocks that delimits the small cove, Ona looks towards the horizon.

When you see her, you feel a form of stress taking hold of you, but different from the anxiety that persisted in recent weeks. You bite your lips before feeling Alexia's arm around your shoulder, taking you for an hug.

"You’ve come a long way Y/N. We’re all very proud of you."

You don’t need to look her in the eye to check the sincerity of her words and you offer her a shy smile. With that, she gently pushes you towards the beach and you slowly break the distance between Ona and you, playing nervously with the stems of the flowers that you hold in your hands.

The wind blows a little, blowing Ona’s hair. Arriving at one meter behind her, you are not sure that she heard you. You let a few moments pass during which you take the opportunity to look at her. She looks tired, not to say exhausted. A new wave of guilt takes hold of you and you take one last step before reporting your presence.

"Hi"

She gently turns her gaze towards you and the strength of your feelings for her hits you hard.

"Hi"

She answers you gently and after a few seconds a slight smile appears on her lips. His eyes run through your face and you clear your throat before raising the flowers in her direction, a little embarrassed.

"It’s for you. They’re beautiful, but not as beautiful as you?"

Ona laughs softly, but you see her hands shake when she grabs the bouquet to carry it to her nose and breathe the smell.

"Is that a question?" she asks over the flowers.

"No but pickup lines were never my thing. You do look beautiful though" you just answer without taking your eyes off her. "I missed you."

"I miss you too, but…"

You step forward to interrupt her, not wanting to hear what she is hiding behind this "but".

"No, Ona, please listen to me." You wait until she nods before continuing. "I’m really, really sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, scream at you, or make you cry. I will do anything if you give me another chance. I know it sounds like a creepy guy with dozens of red flags, but I swear I’ll do better than I’ve done so far."

The Latin looks at you while you speak before sighing gently and letting her gaze float in the wave. She seems to look for her words and you let her do it, looking at her face with intensity. You realize that this may be the last time you see her, you want to immerse yourself in her as much as possible.

"If continue together Y/N, I want you to promise to really heal yourself. I couldn’t stand a second time watching you self-destruct like you did."

"I swear. I’ll do it for you. For us."

You mean it sincerely and the strength of your answer seems to surprise Ona. It must be said that you have seemed unsure of anything lately. She looks at you for a long time and you let her do it, a little embarrassed. Your eyes find their path to your shoes.

"Why are you always so shy?"

Ona’s amused tone surprises you and in a second your gaze is back on her.

"What do you mean?"

"You never knew how to handle compliments, you always blush when I look at you, you roll your eyes at me when I tell you that I find you beautiful…"

You retain a grimace of extreme accuracy, but you are convinced that Ona has realized it. You answer her however, shrugging you shoulders. If there is a time when you have to be honest with each other, it's now.

"I never understood what you found in me from the beginning. I thought you weren’t as interested in me as I was in you and that the long-distance relationship suited you. To be honest with you, I was looking to have the most of you until you realized there are other girls that are much more interesting than me."

Ona frowns and gets ready to speak, but you raise your hand to ask her to let you continue. Now that you’ve started, you need to clear your head.

"I was always convinced that you would find someone better than me at some point, someone joyful who would make you happier. Last week when you started crying because me, I just wanted you to leave so you wouldn’t be sad. Nothing else in the world matters more than you and your happiness to me. I’m sorry I showed you so badly, I’m sorry I wasn’t up to it, for making you cry and for making you go through hell. I’ve only been sure of one thing in all this fog since this summer, it’s the strength of my feelings for you. I really want to build something serious together. You’re the love of my life, Ona."

It was random, probably said in a completely disorderly way, but it was totally sincere. You find yourself a little breathless after your tirade and you look carefully at Ona. She also seems to be breathless and a few seconds pass, only disturbed by the sound of the waves behind you. You realize that when she speaks again, she has tears in her eyes.

"You're enough Y/N. I promise you're enough"

She whispers but approaches you to take your face in her two hands. It is a tender gesture and you feel a pleasant warmth at the precise place where her skin is in contact with yours.

"And I love you too. We’ll get through this together. I promise."

You smile softly and nod at her answer. After these long monologues, you find yourself a little short of words.

"No more lies or secrets?" said Ona.

"No more lies or secrets."

A new smile exchanged before your lips finally meet, sealing your promises of eternity. Because she loves you as much as you do. And it will be forever you and her.

#ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine

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youwouldntdownloadapizza · 10 months ago

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The Gates of Jackson | Joel Miller x F!Reader | Chapter 3 - The Cabin

masterlist | ao3 | follow @youwouldntdownloadapizza and turn on notifications for updates

You showed up at the gates of Jackson with hands covered in blood and no memory of how you got there. That was two years ago. Since then, you've become Maria's right-hand woman and the person in charge of Jackson's logistical backend. Patrol schedules, inventory—all your purview. When a patrol gone wrong forces you to get to know Joel, memories of your past begin resurfacing—along with their consequences.

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pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.1k

tags: no use of y/n, eventual smut, no beta we die like sarah, jackson era, other additional tags to be added, slow burn, ellie needs a hug, joel lives, good parent joel, reader-insert, reader insert, forced proximity, only one bed trope, nightmares, childbirth, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, soft joel, cuddling & snuggling, fluff, masturbation, pining, joel falls first, possibly demisexual reader (tbd), ptsd, ptsd flashbacks, panic attacks, amnesia, sexual braiding

chapter warnings: canon-typical violence, violence towards children, nightmares

Chapter 3 - The Cabin

By the time you descended the ladder, Joel had everything set up. A clean, if dusty and threadbare, blanket was spread before the fireplace. He’d managed to get the fire going, and while it hadn’t reached a roar, it was plenty hot enough to heat some cans for dinner.

“What are you in the mood for?” Joel asked, gesturing between two cans with a pilfered can opener. “I’ve got alphabet soup or beefy ravioli.”

“Ravioli, please,” you said decisively, taking a seat beside him on the blanket. It took a second of him staring at you expectantly for you to realize he was holding out your selection. You took it and dug in.

“Holy shit,” you nearly moaned, the zing of 20-year-old marinara a delight to tired taste buds.

“That good, huh?” Joel asked.

You nodded–yeah, it was really that good.

“Maybe Ellie’s onto something,” he chuckled, digging into his own dinner. You cocked an eyebrow. He elaborated, “She’s big on Chef Boyardee, too. Who knew he’d have so many fans in the apocalypse?”

“I don’t know,” you joked. “Fungal pandemics come and go, but pasta is forever.”

He laughed mid-chew, snorting so effusively a J-shaped piece of pasta landed at your feet.

“Huh,” you said. “J for Joel.”

You ate the rest of your food in relative silence, the levity of the first few bites subsiding once you realized how hungry you truly were.

A few minutes later, you set your empty can on the hearth with a clatter. “I’m gonna turn in.”

Joel nodded. “I’ll take first watch. Good night, Doe.”

“Night, Joel.”

Upon further inspection, the puke-covered couch appeared to convert into a mostly unscathed bed. It felt almost wrong to tuck yourself beneath such cozy bedding in your filthy patrol clothes. Especially since you had to be ready to spring into action at any moment, which meant your shoes stayed on too. But it’s not like there were other options. You lay your head atop the impossibly fluffy pillow, and let your eyes fall shut. Before you knew it, you were asleep.

* * *

You only ever saw Steffy in your dreams anymore. Your baby sister had been there for the collapse of the Salt Lake City QZ, escaping alongside you. But somewhere between fleeing and finding yourself at the gates of Jackson, you’d lost her. You’re not sure what happened exactly, but the dread in the pit of your stomach left no room for wondering: Steffy was dead.

She was alive right now, though. You were little again, sitting on the terracotta tiles of your Aunt Suzie’s back porch. It was summer, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the magnolia tree above you.

While the adults grilled, you and Steffy had a tea party. All the best dolls were invited, teddy bears too. Even Steffy’s favorite, a bedraggled rat plushie named Ratty.

“Ratty wants Earl Grey,” Steffy said, holding out a tiny teacup and saucer.

“Why, of course,” you replied in a bad British accent, pretending to pour him a cup.

Steffy made Ratty drink the whole cup in one gulp. “Dee-licious.”

You giggled. She giggled. It was contagious, the two of you devolving into downright guffaws when you noticed the adults’ chatter had stopped. Looking over your sister’s shoulder, your face fell.

“What’s wrong?” Steffy asked with a tilt of her head.

You wanted to tell her to run. You wanted to tell her to get behind you, that something was wrong. But you were frozen.

That’s when the clicker sunk its teeth into her neck.

You woke with a start, flailing wildly, arm connecting with something hard, something that let out an ‘oof’ in response. Joel. You had hit Joel. Based on the proximity, you guessed he was trying to wake you.

“Sorry,” you panted, heart still racing from your dream. “Time for my watch?”

“No,” you could barely make out the shake of his head against what was left of the dying firelight. “It’s only been a couple hours. You were flailin’ about, looked like you were having a nightmare.”

“Oh,” you said. “Thank you. I’m fine now.”

“If you’re sure,” he said. “I’m here, y’know. If you want to… talk about it, or anything.”

You were still shaky. Your heart was still going so fast. But you weren’t about to discuss your dead sister with Joel Miller.

“I’m fine.” You doubled down, softer than you meant to.

“Okay,” he backed off, returning to his spot leaned up against the fireplace, eyes on the door.

Minutes passed, and your heart was still racing. Your hand throbbed, and you wondered how hard you’d hit Joel. Hopefully not hard enough to leave a mark.

“I’m sorry I hit you,” you said softly through the darkness.

“It’s fine, Doe. You were dreaming.”

You hated the way he brushed away your concerns, the way he gave you grace. In your experience, people rarely let others off the hook, not really. There was always some resentment that lingered.

If you were going to owe him, you might as well really owe him.

“Joel?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“I can’t sleep,” you confessed.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do about that.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself to ask for what you wanted. “Will you cuddle with me? It’s not you, it’s just…I need another person. We’re safe here, we don’t need a watch, not really. And I need you.”

“Thought you said it wasn’t personal.”

“It’s not,” you bristled. “But I thought it would be nice.”

“Never said it wouldn’t be, sweetheart.”

You lay there expectantly for what felt like ages. Then, finally, you heard the squeak of old floorboards under his boots, and felt the squish of the mattress as he climbed onto it beside you. You found a position easily, one arm beneath your head, his other loosely draped across your waist.

Your heart slowed marginally, but your breathing remained fast and light.

“Relax, sweetheart. You gotta breathe.”

“I can’t–” you started. He cut you off with a hand to your stomach.

“You can.” He pulled you back against him gently, not so tight you were crushed, but just enough for you to feel the expanding and contracting of his own breath against your back. “Breathe with me, alright?”

You nodded with a shuddering breath. He tapped your stomach lightly with his thumb. You matched his inhale, breathing deeply and resenting the fact that this shit works every goddamn time. Within a few minutes, you were calm. Or as calm as you were going to get, anyway.

“I get them too, you know,” Joel admitted.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You were still pulled close against him, neither of you having made a move to scramble apart once your breathing returned to normal. At his admission, you relaxed into him fully, taking his free hand in yours.

Before you knew it, you were asleep once more, dreamless and deep, held safe and secure in the warmth of Joel’s embrace.

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller series #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou #joel x reader #joel x you #no use of y/n #joel miller x f!reader #jackson era #joel lives #ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction

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yannaryartside · 1 year ago

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SydCarmy vs Lucus

AMBITIONS AND PERSPECTIVES ON ART

This is a long one. Is about the series's themes on pursuing the arts, and the reasons that this ships work as symbolism for it.

When thinking about the reasons Marcus and Sydney were not going to work out (as far as we can see), I read a comment saying: "they are not on the same level" and the more I thought about it, I realized it not only meant they are not equal in culinary expertise, but they also have different ways to "live" their path in the culinary arts, almost opposite philosophies about it. And all of it is explained in their conversations with their (possible) romantic interest.

WHAT IS AN ART PHILOSOPHY?

When you enter a path in the arts, any part, at some point, you will have to make decisions about how you are going to transit this path because there are very different ways to live a creative life, to make money out of it, and how feel fulfilled about it. Many people will enter their path with an idea of what success looks like, probably modeled after an artist that you admired, the desire for your art to be recognized as good, or as "the best," or even to disrupt what came before you. Shortly, art philosophy is how you value your path in the arts: What makes it good art? What point of your career is gonna bring you satisfaction? What guides you to it?

CARMY AND SIDNEY : "LET'S BE THE BEST AND REACH LOST OF PEOPLE"

They both want to be "the best," their definition of it equals stars, reviews, magazine interviews, and restaurant numbers. The creative impulse is only as valuable as is booming, and a chef is only as good as the size of their kitchen.

They both want exterior recognition and aspire to a big audience, and their satisfaction in their craft depends on that; what makes their unbearable jobs worth it somehow is if "people loved the food." They both have wounds and bonds formed around food and love making people happy with the food, but they have selected a perspective of what "the best" is and is an ambition they run almost blindly to. You can think the burger place on your block has the best food in the world. There are cooks utterly content with that, but the Michelling stars are telling otherwise.

Of course, this is the most tangible way to measure success in arts, the singer with the most loved songs, the book with the most readers. Quality is supposed to be evident by popularity, and they want it, decorated with the prize of succeding in such a competitive industry. They have tried to win the culinary rat race and have regrets about it.

Carmy (motivated by the rejection and abandonment from his brother) worked his ass to unhealthy levels to climb the culinary ladder, living to best everybody around him and run the best restaurant on the planet (which, if we believe his monologue, only took two fucking years). Sydney is presented to us as somebody with equal creative powers, intelligence, and instincts as Carmy, which is particularly obvious in their brainstorming sessions. But she hasn't been offered the same opportunities. Her previous bosses described her as "incredibly talented, impatient, and green." and one friend told her as "always trying to be the best." There is much to say about how her impatience may sabotage her ambitions. Still, it may be because she fears getting stuck, labeled, or never recognized by her talents.

These two have 3 things they prioritize in their art paths:

Creative expression+people love the food

Exterior recognition based on the industry standards (stars and big kitchens)

A rat race (sense of urgency) and your ability to play on it.

What makes your food the "best" is comparing it to everyone else and "winning" in a particular category.

Not to mention, they are both deeply aware of the logistics and money sides of the restaurant life. It is not like they don't value inspiration, but their ambition is the defining force behind said inspiration.

MARCUS AND LUCA: "LET'S BE INSPIRED AND EVOLVE"

Luca was introduced to us as someone who was "trying to keep up with Carmy, who was much better than him," the same way the audience feels Marcus is someone trying to impress and keep up with Syd. Luca knows the culinary world, has traveled, and has a privileged position making high-end desserts (possibly in a place with stars). He is the Carmy to Marcus's Sydney.

Btw, there are some crazy parallels here too:

Marcus and Sydney have a wound/fear related to their mothers.

Luca and Carmy have strained relationships with their siblings (Luca has a sister he cannot find).

Both Carmy and Sydney got into cooking because of early childhood passion

Marcus and Luca got into it by "chance," discovering a passion that they never expected to love this much or be good at.

Mentor x student relationship.

Back to Marcus and Lucas's perspective of art. Notice how Carmy was trapped in a sense of urgency environment, with many people working for him, in NYC, a chaotic city; while Luca seems to work entirely by himself, in a pretty chill environment, in a rather peaceful city. Luca and Marcus thrive on this environment, which is about thought and delicacy, unlike the "efficient, fast run kitchen" Carmy and Sydney established.

Marcus had no philosophy about his craft because he was barely starting. Still, he adopts Luca's philosophy, which has 3 parts:

You may never be the best. Some artists have to let go of the idea of being "the best." There is a lot to say about this. But I want to express this using an example of the craft that I aspire to get into: writing. A friend once told me that some books are not meant to reach millions because they have a very specific audience, and what makes them good is how "memorable they are." More of it, some artists are never recognized in their times. The industry may not be made for them, or it may be just luck. Limiting the value of art by the industry standard is depriving the world of art that needs to be more exploratory, spontaneous, or just free.

Since industry validation may not be available to you, instead of "being the best" against others, you can decide, "My only competition is me from yesterday." This perspective is super important because it gives you something to aspire to, ensures your creative growth, and allows reinvention.

It is not about skill but being open to the world, yourself, and other people. It is not about fancy techniques or recognition but about being inspired.

To Luca and now Marcus, the creative process is as good as is honest, and a chef is as good as the effort he puts into it. The "self-exploration" and the recognition of the people surrounding him allowed Marcus to create his desserts: The Copenhagen sundae, for his ultimate school (and Luca), "Mum's" honey bun, Sidney's donut (the first one in believing in him and when he recognized his dreams), and "The Michael" the one that put him to make bread, and the tribute that needs to be made.

#sorry I just love stories about making art #the bear is a love story #carmy berzatto #sydcarmy #carmy the bear #the bear meta #carmen berzatto #sydney x carmy #carmy x sydney #luca the bear #marcus the bear #lucus #chef kiss

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noodyl-blasstal · 3 months ago

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Bench Stress - Best Served Cold Part 2

It's day two of @tazsapphicweek! So here's chapter 2 of Best Served Cold.

You can read below or on Ao3. Missed part 1? Catch up here.

The advertising starts appearing three days before the grand opening of The Good Lick Store is scheduled. It would have been nice if they asked before they put the posters on her shop windows, but Istus can appreciate an industrious attitude. Raven, however, does not.

“They got your windows too?” Raven is framed beautifully in the door, long leather coat streaming behind her like the wings of an avenging angel. She holds a small stack of crumpled posters in her hand.

“It’s nice that they’re enthusiastic!” Istus tries her best to smile soothingly. The stress won’t do Raven any good.

“They didn’t ask you either then?” Raven’s undeterred.

“Well, no. But…”

Raven strides forward and rips the three posters down, Istus can’t stop the fond smile, Raven’s always looking out for her. Before they met she couldn’t remember ever having someone who cared so much, so fiercely, it means she appreciates everything after so much more.

Raven feeds the posters through Istus’ shredder with a look of grim satisfaction. “There’s no need for this many, especially not on your shop. They’re being unfair. I’m going to go and talk to them.”

It takes Istus a solid 15 minutes to calm her down enough not to storm over there and ‘tell them exactly how unjust this is’.

“We don’t need another situation, my love.” Istus says, soothing a hand over her shoulder.

“They were wrong!” Raven’s indignant, and, of course, entirely correct.

“Of course they were, they shouldn’t have put up signage that covered part of your shop, but taking the saw to it wasn’t the best response, was it?”

“I was just cutting off the bit on my property.” Raven crosses her arms defensively and Istus tries not to laugh.

“And then you…?” Istus asks.

There’s a long silence.

“Go on.” Istus prompts.

“Fell off the ladder and broke my leg.”

“And that was when you promised me that you’d be slightly less impulsive in your quests for justice.”

“I did do that.”

“So therefore…” Istus leaves the sentence dangling.

“I shouldn’t go and tell them off and make them better people by force of will alone.”

Istus pats her shoulder, it’s a brave sacrifice.

“I’m not sorry about the shredder.” Raven adds, defiant until the last.

“Do you want me to let you in on a secret, my love?” Istus leans in close to whisper in her ear. “I’m not sorry either.”

–

The opening is a huge event, there’s a runway into the shop which must have been erected overnight. The blasting music means poor Raven has to use her earplugs all day, not even the music in her shop covers it. The light show seems somewhat unnecessary in the daytime but it’s always nice to see effort and care, Istus supposes. At least it’s only one day.. No one will go over there with her, even when she gives her very best wide eyed sad face, so she goes alone. It’s important to support local businesses afterall, she wants them to do well even if they don’t seem to want to engage with the other shop owners - mind you, it’s hard to come into an established group. Maybe they’re shy and that’s why they’ve ignored all the invites to community meetings.

Strutting her way up the runway to the door is inescapable, grumbling knee be damned. She swishes her skirts as she goes and can’t help but smile as she joins the queue. This is the energy it’s nice to have an injection of! New doesn’t always mean bad! Now that all of the decorating is finished it’s light inside the shop, big windows ensuring that customers can see every detail, and there’s so many details. A world different from Boyland’s cosy shop and it’s a work of art, truly. For all Happy Scoops is a mix of bright colours and fun touches, The Good Lick Store is the manicured antithesis. The retro styling combined with the sharp uniforms is delightful, and the selection of toppings look beautiful laid out in the glass fronted display, golden swans curling from the frame at each side.

Istus smiles as she reaches the front of the queue. “Oh you both look wonderful! How is the Grand Opening going?” Neither Lydia nor Edward has a hair out of place.

“Wonderfully, darling!” Lydia smiles at her, hat sat at the perfectly jaunty angle, apron sticking out over a skirt with reams of petticoats holding it in the perfect flounce.

“You probably won’t be used to queues like these.” Edward says conversationally, adding a small sprinkle of toppings to the last customer’s cup of frozen yoghurt and looking for all the world like he has no idea how insulting he’s being.

She supposes they haven’t seen the inside of her shop, or the outside on the days the queues wind out the door. They’ll learn eventually. Istus smiles politely.

“One of whatever you’d recommend, please.” She says instead of answering. She can’t foresee there being a ‘right’ answer to his question.

“What a charming idea.” Edward looks positively delighted then turns to Lydia. “Make sure it’s nothing too…” He looks Istus up and down. “…sophisticated.”

Istus just smiles pleasantly, she can never ever tell Raven about this, she’d never forgive them. It’s fine though, Istus doesn’t mind, they’re probably just used to being in a place where businesses were in opposition. They’ll adjust, it’s just going to take time for them to realise things aren’t like that here.

Lydia creates a beautiful swirl in a paper cup, and hands it to Edward. “Prepare for a taste sensation.” She says with more smugness than Istus would like. She’s not entirely sure where the concept of her store being bland has come from, but the whole point is that they cater to a range of tastes. There’s nothing wrong with basic flavours, people know what they like, and Istus has a knack for using that knowledge to find something they’ll love.

Edward studs it with six tiny slivers of strawberry and places a small handful of sprinkles on top. “I think you’ll be able to handle this.” He says and hands it over with a smile. A genuine one that the cynical side of her says is from the joy of insulting her, but she hopes is actually just the cracking of the ice she didn’t know had built between them.

She takes it with a passive smile, manages not to flinch at the price, and thinks it tastes just fine.

“This is shit.” Carrie says, throwing the tiny spoon in the recycling in protest.

Killian just nods and throws her spoon away too.

“It’s just not what you’re used to. I thought it was really lovely.” Istus thinks a lie in kindness is probably fine.

She mentions the opening event to customers she thinks will enjoy it, or those too afraid to investigate the source of the music and lights themselves. It’s the right thing to do. But she can’t say she’s not relieved when they keep coming back to Happy Scoops, or slightly (shamefully) smug when they mention the service being better as well as the ice cream. But why shouldn’t she be proud? She’s worked hard to build this place.

–

RE: Happy Scoops Obstruction

Dear Istus Queen,

We are writing to inform you that due to the volume of complaints about the obstruction of the walkway outside Happy Scoops the furniture there must be removed.

This is a formal notice and must be acted upon within 14 days or the management company will be forced to facilitate their removal and you will be charged for this process.

Please do hesitate to contact us if you require any further information.

Kind regards,

International Products and Rockin’ Experiences outdoor mall management.

Raven puts the letter Istus had handed her down on the counter. She doesn’t know what to say, so she settles for opening her arms to Istus instead.

“It’s okay, it’s important that we don’t block the walkways.” Istus says, face tucked against Raven’s collarbone.

Her voice is thick enough that Raven’s ready to go to war with whoever sent the letter.

“It’s not blocking the walkway, no one has complained in the last twelve years.” Raven tries not to let her tone show how angry she is. Istus doesn’t need to worry about her blood pressure too.

“They have now.” Istus says too quietly.

Raven pulls her closer and they sit in the endless peace of the morning.

Istus pulls away and smiles brightly. “It’ll look nice in the garden, don’t you think?”

“What?”

“The furniture. We can take it home. It’ll brighten things up, the colours are so fun.”

“They are, love. They are.” Raven pats her hand soothingly and tries not to worry too much.

“Did you see that I need to hesitate to contact them?” Istus gives Raven her biggest shiniest smile, Raven wants so badly to believe it’s genuine.

“I wasn’t sure if it was a typo or not.”

“Honestly darling, I don’t think it is.” This time Istus’ smile looks more genuine. “Remember the flood?”

Raven snorts derisively. “Don’t remind me.” She takes Istus’ hand in both of hers. “Are you absolutely sure about this? I can go and speak to them?”

Istus’s reply doesn’t come as quickly as it usually would, it’s worrying that she’s tempted to let Raven go to bat for her. Not that Raven won’t in a heartbeat, but she’s the impulsive one when it comes to right and wrong. Istus so often holds her back when she’s full of idealism.

Istus slowly forces another smile onto her face. “Yes. I’m sure, my love. It’ll be nice to have them at home. Maybe the boys will use them for a photo shoot or something when they come to visit. Taako’s magazine is doing awfully well.”

Raven is convinced that Taako will be just as willing to go and fight whoever put the complaint in, Kravitz too, she raised him right. Maybe if she sends a picture of the benches outside they’ll ask why and then they can come and help. Istus doesn’t need to know… “That’s a wonderful suggestion.”

“Can we move them today? It’s best to be proactive.” Istus’ voice doesn’t wobble.

“Of course. Whatever you need. I’ll send a message and see who can help.”

It turns out that having a wife who is generosity personified is helpful when it comes to recruiting assistance. Within the hour they have offers of two different vans, plenty of strong arms, and many, many questions about who on earth complained considering it had been years and there was lots of space to move past the furniture.

Istus bakes when she’s happy, she bakes when there’s something to celebrate or something to mourn, she bakes when she’s stressed. So she bakes, of course she bakes. The helpers arrive to lemon loaf, glistening fruit tarts, and agua fresca. Offers of all the ice cream they can eat. It turns into stories, a backwards and forwards of “remember when…” and “we sat here after…”, Raven helps as much as she can, but she lets Sloane, Hurley, and Noelle take the last bench.

It’s only on the off chance that she notices. A glance towards the shop that shows her Istus through the window. She’s crying. Full, open mouthed, silent sobs, one hand pressed to her mouth the other to the counter. Raven wants more than anything to go and smooth the tears from her cheeks, to hold her and tell her it’ll be okay, the business will be okay, people will sit inside and it’ll all still be lovely. But Istus needs, whatever her reasons, for them not to know she’s hurt. Istus needs Raven to pretend everything is okay, and Raven is going to do that. Well… Raven is going to do that to her face.

She might not be tech savvy, but she knows how to make a group chat.

Istus’ Army Raven: We need to find out who put the complaints in. Sloane: Fucking finally! Killian: YES! They’re going down. Carey: No one hurts Istus on our watch1!! Sloane: Hurley’s in too. What do you need us to do? I’ll get my kit. Hurley: Just a casual reminder for absolutely no reason that anyone, not us, because we’re not planning to, but anyone who might be planning to do any crimes might not want to do that in writing. Sloane: <3 Raven: Istus has knitting club tonight. Meet at ours at 6.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! The next chapter is here.

#TAZ Sapphic Week #Noodyl Writes #Lydia and Edward are really terrible about cross contamination - pass it on #They definitely don't switch out their gloves unless you ask them and even then it's a gamble #Istus has a separate prep area #TAZ fic #TAZ Balance #Istus/The Raven Queen #Istus #The Raven Queen

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nattaphum · 1 year ago

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Man Suang Press Conference [08/08/2023]

Interviewed: Pond (Exec Producer and CEO of BOC, Nat (Director), Mile, Apo, Tong, Bas, and Kru Ning (Script Writer and Acting Coach).

Q. What is Man Suang and how did it start?

Pond: Man = human, Suang = heaven; together heaven x human such as entertainment complex. Man Suang represents an entertainment complex where anyone can be anything. People chosen to be in Man Saung are carefully selected. Within the equality in Man Suang, it also represents the landscape of the real world. The Man Suang production is really brought together by people's love of art and the dream to create great production and quality work that also at times does not match the budget or traditional work culture. But the crew and everyone really have the same the dream and is willing to do what it takes to make Man Suang on the scale, goal, and vision we have.

Q: Why did this project require 3 directors?

Nat: i knew about KPTS and Kru Ning as an academic working on project that is being appreciated by the mass. And knowing Pond, who has the same goal, as a director, my role is to facilitate the process as it should be done on this scale.

Kru Ning: i works with Kru Bua on the script making. We both played a role in chosing the actors and actresses who will be in the film despite the actors' busy schedule. The challenge is bringing out the potential of all actors.

Pond: having three directors i was often told that it would’ve been a problem, but i’ve been through it on KPTS already. The three directors worked because we all respect each other. I represent the newer generation, Nat represents the experienced director, Kru Ning also represents the knowledgeable person. The key to successful work is that the younger is respectful and the seniors are not egotistic.

Q: Why choose this time period (between Rama III and Rama IV) as the setting?

Nat: This is the period where foreign powers start coming into the kingdom and has a rich history.

Q: What do you expect from this film seeing the anticipation?

Nat: i didn't expect this much reception, but also i believe we’ve done our best to meet the expectations. Thai period film is something not everyone would choose to do, but we gave it all.

Kru Ning: i expect that this film will inspire the new generation of film makers to also create period films or pick up pieces of history as their work.

Mile, Apo, Tong and Bas introduce their characters

Mile: I play Chat as a person caring for others. He came to Man Saung because of something that happened in his life. He's the 'leather man' the person who works on leather for drum. Meet different kinds of people, the very good and very bad.

Apo: I play Khem. I believe that in any generation or anywhere there’s who wants to step up and grow in their work, like Khem. He is a peasant that wants to have a better life, so he wants to use the dance that he likes as a stepping stone. Something made him enter Man Suang. For me, with any kind of role, I will believe in the role and the character. What is difficult, is imagining the character within the constraints of the time period. What he can and cannot do in that time period/culture. And the dance was a challenge. I told myself that I can do it since the mental training merges with the physical training to practice and learn the dance.

Tong: I play 'Hong'. The challenge of the role is also imagining the character in the time period and what the character can or cannot express. Even though in Man Suang you can be anything, there's still things you cannot be or tabooed. But we are lucky to have a great team who helps us. The script was redone multiple times.

Bas: I play Wan, who is best buddies with Khem, like we go anywhere together. I'm also a peasant, so the character background is at the lowest social ladder. Even the smallest mistake means death.

Q: How does working on KPTS influenced your work on Man Suang?

Apo: Going to events overseas, in France, in events with A-listers is kinda a private event. So going to closed events, where people live as the elite as their normal life helps me understand how it's like being Man Suang. Imagine myself as a small person going into private world of elites.

Mile: Starting of with KPTS makes me feel this big fulfilling energy when seeing fans or people who just started watching KPTS. Such show opened me up to opportunities of intertwining social culture issues, and Man Suang is doing the same. KPTS is a BL in a small group, but Man Suang will open up to more people.

Q: Let’s talk about the production standard that Man Suang set.

Pond: It's something I'm really proud of where we have set hours, everyone on set is treated equally in things like catering. Sometimes it becomes over budget but everyone on set is treated equally. Equality is something that we can easily talk but difficult make happen, but they tried it on this set, and it works. I want to make it the standard.

Q: Let’s talk about the support from the Ministry of Culture. Pushing Thai soft power.

Pond: i want to start with thanking Srichand because they represent Thai culture as well. Thanks to Srichand for collaborating and supporting us. Man Suang has a distinct culture footprint and Thainess that the ministry should support. So proud to be selected and that tax payers' money are being used to support Thai people work and art.

Interview with Ohm Cocktail

Both Pond and Ohm know the 28 Orchestra Band and they reached out to Ohm saying Pond has a project. Ohm likes historical stuff and was excited about the work. After knowing the overall scope of the project, and seeing the anticipation it was quite challenging, he hoped the idea will come to him, until he got the original script. But the script doesn't have the plot so it's hard to understand the story. He couldn’t understand the emotions until he saw the teaser. The overall theme is about going into a location hiding your identity in order to find something, that is an intriguing plot and good substance for the song writing.

END OF CONFERENCE

Translation provided by mileapo_sp 💜

[mileapo’s cut with eng subs here]

+ bonus:

#kinnporsche #mileapo #apo nattawin #mile phakphum #tong thanayut #bas asavapatr #man suang #mileapo movie

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archetypal-archivist · 2 years ago

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A Kinder World AU- Part 3

Philza, Missa, and Chayanne’s House

masterlist

Philza is a war veteran battling depression and recovering from the traumatic losses he suffered during the war and the years after. When he was at his lowest, he was approached by Missa, who had fallen in love with him at first sight and wanted Phil to live with him in Quesadilla. Not having anything else worth doing, Philza agreed and he now coparents Missa’s ward, Chayanne. Neither Phil or Missa are properly employed but between Phil’s veteran compensation and their shared love of treasure hunting, they make more than enough to pay the bills. Chayanne’s parents are both inflicted with horrible wanderlust, which makes it difficult for both of them to stay at home for long periods. To make it work, they trade off, with one going away for weeks at a time to travel and explore while the other takes care of Chayanne. Upon realizing that his estranged father had moved to Quesadilla, Wilbur often leaves Tallulah with the family while he goes away on business- a love for travel truly runs strong in Philza’s line.

1) As a veteran, Phil struggles with claustrophobia and paranoia. To help with this, the house has multiple entrances built into it, as well as many windows so Phil can always see the sky. The ladder dropping down into the sea leads to Chayanne’s bedroom and it’s the most defensible position in the house on Philza’s insistence. The room itself is a nook full of blankets, pillows, and Chayanne’s favorite things, all bundled together in a sort of nest. Chayanne loves his living space, especially the ladder as he likes to hang from the rungs and drop into the water below. It’s a good way to wake up, although Missa and Philza always have to force him into the tub to wash away the sea salt afterwards.

2) Chayanne keeps a garden of edible plants on the small patio outside their front door and he takes excellent care of them. Missa is supportive but clueless, but Philza’s (secondhand) knowledge of green and growing things is top notch so he often helps his kid out in the mornings before school starts. Both Missa and Philza are good cooks and fresh vegetables picked straight from the garden are common ingredient in the meals they make. They have yet to figure out how to grow potatoes given their limited growing space, but Chayanne is determined to have whole pots of his favorite food growing by next year.

3) The front door leads right into a “shared central living space” although functionally it’s more of a bedroom for whichever parent is home at the time. Neither Philza nor Missa have a formal bed, instead choosing to either sleep together in Chayanne’s room when both of them are home, or in this central space if only one of them is present. No one in this family is any good at cleaning, although they all give it their best effort, so this space is in a perpetual state of chaos, and honestly they kind of like it that way. Full of Missa’s treasures and Philza’s collections, it has so many markers of life that it can’t help but feel like home. It’s just a tripping hazard for anyone else who comes in, is all.

4) Missa and Philza both have a love for shiny things and keep collections of things they find on their travels in the attic. Missa prefers sheet music and fancy guitar picks, as he loves to sing and play guitar for Chayanne and Philza whenever he gets the chance. Philza, on the other hand, tends to keep mementos that remind him of his deceased friends and family, as well as notable events in his past. In addition to a jewelry box full of fancy hair ornaments and earrings, he also keeps a selection of antique guns and bullets. Very few of these are still in working order but he does still have his sig sauer from his time in the armed forces in a box somewhere, as well as two live rounds that Missa gave him when he first found out what his partner liked to collect. It is also within this selfsame attic that the parents’ most precious items are kept when not in use.

5) Missa knows Philza doesn’t love him romantically and likely never will. People like them, they tend to fall in love once in a lifetime and stay loyal to that person unto death and beyond- and Philza’s wife (Wilbur’s mother) had already passed by the time he encountered the man. This doesn’t bother Missa any, he loves Philza with his whole heart and love is about giving, not about expecting anything back. And he knows Phil cares for him in his own way- when he helped the man build a small permanent ofrenda for those missing from Philza’s life in the empty room above the kitchen, Philza choosing to immediately introduce Missa as his partner to the portraits is something that lives in his head rent free to this day.

6) Raised high on sturdy metal struts, Phil and Missa’s house almost seems to hover in the air, flying above the waves. Paid off in a fine collection of buried treasure and shipwreck salvage, Vegetta used his best designs and Fit’s hard work to allow for this seemingly impossible home to remain strong in the toughest of gales. Indeed, there’s nothing Chayanne and Philza love more than sitting in the ofrenda room and feeling the tower gently sway in the wind as the storm batters down on their home, the rain on the roof a drumming counterpoint to recordings of Missa’s guitar. The adrenaline rush and sense of safety gained when nothing bad actually happens are rather therapeutic, too.

7) Everyone in the family adores heights so weekly movie nights on the rooftop are a must. Philza will bring out his busted up laptop or Missa will pull out his phone and its infinite data plan and the parent in question will plop Chayanne on their lap, drape a blanket over their shoulders, and watch crappy comedies or bloody horror movies until the moon is high overhead. When Missa or Philza come home from a trip, they always show up perched atop the roof and wait until the rest of the family notices them rather than entering through the front door like a normie human. And yes, this does sometimes alarm the neighbors.

#qsmp #a kinder world au #mc #quackity smp #missasinfonia #philza #chayanne #my writing #townscaper

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writerblue275 · 11 months ago

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The One Who Could Break My Heart (Chapter 3)

Chapters 1 + 2

Inspiration: "Trouble" - EXO, "There's Nothing Holding Me Back" - Shawn Mendes, "On My Love" - Zara Larsson & David Guetta

Champion: Ezreal (Pilty!Ez)

Summary: After the many revelations of last night/early this morning, it's time to face the day, face yourself, and have a very important conversation with Ezreal.

Genre: Song-Inspired Fic

Type: A bit angsty (pining), but happy ending. Smuttish (18+ ONLY. Minors DNI.) Fluffy, especially towards the end. (What can I say? I like a happy ending.)

Gender: Comfortable with she/her pronouns? Past parts have been more implied AFAB, but this part not as much? Slight mention of potential future family plans but eh not specific how that could happen.

TW: Mention of nightmare/illusion of reader being harmed. Pining that is resolved. Suggestive stuff.

"Trouble" lyrics in red

"There's Nothing Holding Me Back" lyrics in green

"On My Love" lyrics in pink.

“I’m in trouble.”

As light filters through the linen curtain liners, you slowly start to wake up, getting your bearings straight. You and Ez are tangled together, him sleeping soundly and nuzzling your neck. You can’t help but gently turn your head and kiss his temple before freezing, your startled thoughts quickly waking you completely. No wait I shouldn’t do that…that’s too intimate…I don’t like him like that.

Eventually you gently untangle yourself, smiling softly at his small sleepy protest, and just watch him, thinking about how peaceful he looks. I’m one of the few people who ever sees him this way. I’m one of the few people who can help make him feel like this. God that makes me so happy…wait...wait wait. Wait why does that make me so happy?

It seems like the time has finally come to have a reckoning with yourself. You’re essentially alone with your thoughts and the messages from the emotional part of your mind are loud this morning. You know why it makes you so happy, (Y/N). It’s because you’re in love with him. Stop lying to yourself. You love him as more than just your best friend. You have for a while. You’re in love with Ezreal and you’ve gone and broken your own rule. Admit it.

You realize you’re becoming increasingly tense because of your thoughts. Not wanting to disturb Ez you decide to make a trip to your second favorite place in this large and beautiful home. The library. Reading will help me clear my thoughts and think about this logically, you silently decide. Because fucking hell I think I am in love with him and I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to lose his friendship.

You very carefully slide out of bed, away from Ez’s warmth, already missing him, which just adds to the logic of your decision to go to the library. You quickly scribble a note for him on a spare piece of paper and stick it on his nightstand. Then you’re silently off into the slowly brightening house.

You make your way downstairs and quickly follow the well-memorized path to the library and quietly open the door. You’ve been coming to this particular room since you were a kid. It’s a magnificent space, filled from floor to ceiling with books. There’s even multiple floors with fun little ladders and staircases to use to get to the upper ones. It’s a book-lovers dream.

You find a pile of books on the center of the table, all covering the area of Shurima Ez was in, and many of them specifically covering tombs, both discovered and legend. You realize this must be the pile of manuscripts he used as research for his last expedition. You can’t help but wonder if there’s anything in there that explains why Ez specifically saw you in that one trap. You’re alone with these texts, so you might as well look.

You bring the pile of books with you to place on a side table situated next to a plush arm chair. You curl up in the chair with your knees drawn up for you to rest your book on. You select the first book from the top of the pile. It’s an old leather bound journal, a predecessor to the type of journal you know Ezreal takes his notes in. You slowly start flipping through the pages, but it isn’t long before your thoughts completely distract you from your intended task.

Am I sure I want to know the answer? What if it’s nothing? What if the curse just shows a random friend the person entering is close to? I’m going to emotionally hurt myself. And for what? I know what will happen if I tell him. He doesn’t feel the same way. I remember what he said a year and a half ago. He didn’t want any further feelings involved than what our friendship is. Not to mention I told him dating him would drive me absolutely insane. It’s one of the reasons he suggested this arrangement in the first place. If I tell him? All of this will be finished. Certainly no more physical things with him, which is probably for the best at this point because emotions are involved. But now? This friendship has crossed a line that can’t be undone. Fuck, can we even save it? Have I doomed myself to lose my best friend?

As your mind keep racing, everything eventually becomes too much, especially the thought of losing Ezreal as even a friend. That is just unbearable to ponder. You never wanted to push your best friend away, but even with these fears racing through your mind, you know you have to tell him. You've never lied to him before and you won't start now about something so important.

I’ll tell him today, you decide. I just need to go pack up my things so I can leave and save my dignity after what is sure to be a horrifically awkward conversation. You set the book down and put your head in your hands as the worst case scenarios keep flashing through your mind.

Before you can stop yourself, you feel tears start rolling down your cheeks. You try to control your breathing as a lump forms in your throat but your efforts are futile. Eventually a soft sob makes its way out, followed by a louder one and then another until you’re just having a full break down. You sob brokenheartedly into your hands as you realize what a terrible, terrible mistake you’ve made. You’re sobbing so much that you don’t even hear the library door eventually quietly open behind you.

A warm hand lands on your shoulder and a sleepy voice filled with alarm sounds softly next to you, “(Y/N)?? (Y/N) holy fuck, what happened? Tell me what’s going on, princess. Are you hurt? (Y/N), look at me. Angel, please look at me. What’s going on?? Why are you crying?”

You look to the side where the voice is coming from, meeting the extremely sleepy and very concerned gaze of Ezreal who is kneeling next to your chair. He looks so genuinely worried, which is so uncharacteristic for him, and he’s so gentle as he hugs you close to him. It just makes you cry harder as you cling to his t-shirt. This is what you’re going to lose because your own emotions betrayed your logic.

Ezreal just hugs you tightly and rubs your back until you’ve calmed down significantly. Then he moves another arm chair so it’s next to yours, angles it towards yours, and takes your hand once he sits. “(Y/N)…please tell me what’s going on…” he says as his thumb rubs soothingly over your knuckles.

You sniff and wipe your eyes with a handkerchief he manages to find and give to you. “Ezreal we need to talk. Something’s happened…” you trail off as more tears start streaming down your cheeks and another sob escapes.

He gently squeezes your hand. “(Y/N) please tell me what’s happened. Whatever it is. I want to help, princess, always. Have I done something wrong? You seemed to cry harder when you saw me..if I did something please, please tell me. I’ve never seen you like this before, and that’s saying something because I’ve seen you cry about many things over the time we’ve known each other,” his voice is practically a soft beg as he frets over you. “Are you hurt? Are you sick??” His face pales and he momentarily pauses as it’s clear a thought crosses his mind. “(Y/N), y-you’re not p-pregnant, right? I hope you w-wouldn’t be afraid to tell me if you were, even though t-that would…uh c-certainly be a b-big thing.”

His reaction to the idea brings a wry little smile to your face as you watch him. “No, I’m definitely not pregnant, Ezreal. First of all, you and I are both incredibly careful, and secondly, if I somehow was, I’d never hide that from you. That would be a terrible thing for me to do,” you reassure him softly.

You notice him relax a bit. “Ok, so you’re not pregnant. Then what is it? What has you so upset?” He asks curiously.

“Maybe I should stop and start confessing.”

“I don’t know how to tell you this and I don’t know what to do, Ez,” you let out on a sigh. “You know the eight rules we laid out when we started sleeping together a year and a half ago? Your four and my four?”

He confirms with a nod and a soft “yes I remember.”

“Well…I promised you when we were kids that I’d never lie to you, right? So I should just go ahead and tell you. So…I realized very recently…like extremely recently, that…that I’ve gone and broken my own rule number four…” you admit, your voice getting quieter and quieter as your anxiety grows. You look up at him and bite your lower lip as you wait for him to realize that particular rule is, “No falling in love with each other.”

“Your rule number four,” he whispers more so to himself than to you as he thinks. You can pinpoint his exact moment of realization. He suddenly freezes, his eyes going wide as he looks at you. Besides his wide eyes, you really can’t tell what he’s thinking and it frightens you.

“(Y/N)…your rule number four…” he murmurs slowly, as if making sure he’s not mistaken.

You flinch a little and look down into your lap. “Yup. Somewhere along the line, it seems I’ve fallen in love with you.” You look back up at him and give him a sad little smile. “It’s ok Ez. You don’t have to say anything. I know you don’t feel the same. Why would you? You very clearly said you didn’t want deeper feelings involved than our friendship. I’ve already accepted that. I understand your reasons and I respect them. I think if we end our physical relationship now, I can move on and not lose you completely. My own silly emotions are putting my most treasured friendship at risk and I’ll be completely honest, I’m terrified. I can’t lose having you in my life, Ez. I just can’t. That would kill me,” you know you’re rambling at this point but you can’t help it. Your anxiety over all this is just causing you to word vomit.

Ez comes over and hugs you tightly. “You won’t lose me, (Y/N). First of all, you’ve been my best friend, my partner-in-crime, hell, my person, for almost 20 years. I’m certainly not about to just throw two decades out the window. Secondly, why do you think you know what I’ll say, princess? I’m a different man than I was a year and a half ago. Hell, I’m a far different man than I was two months ago.” He steps back and looks down at you.

You look up at him as your eyes fill with tears again, softly begging, “Ez, please don’t. Don’t do this to me. Don’t give me false hope. I know you’re not cruel. Just tell me no. Tell me no so I can move on. Don’t let me make a fucking fool of myself, Ezreal.”

His voice is gentle, but firm, “(Y/N). Stop. Please stop so I can say what I need to say. You told me what you needed to tell me. Well funny enough, there’s something I need to tell you, too.” He grabs one of the books you were reading and flips to a pre-marked page, quickly scanning it.

Once he finds what he’s looking for, he lays the book on the side table next to you and points to a specific section. “(Y/N) read this page. Please. Especially the third paragraph down. It’s about the curse. It explains why I saw you specifically and not someone else,” he says as he sits back down in the chair next to you.

As you read that page, out of the corner of your eye you see him continue to open other sources to the pages you assume correspond to the Tomb of the Fallen Lovers. You turn your focus on what he wants you to read. The delicate and well-worn page of the ancient journal discusses the different known traps of that specific tomb.

The section he pointed out specifically covers the illusion trap. You focus on the words intently as your curiosity spikes. “Those who enter the tomb will see the one they romantically love most tortured, just as the king saw happen to his beloved queen. Believed to do so in order to most effectively break the will of the person who enters by making it seem like they failed to keep the person in their heart safe.”

You quickly look up at Ezreal. “Ez?” You ask quietly.

Ezreal just nods and pushes the other books in front of you. “Read these too. I’ve marked relevant passages. I know you. You do research. You like sources. You want proof. Here is your academic proof from first and second-hand historical accounts, princess. Read,” he says, using a voice you know very well. It’s a voice he uses in the bedroom often with you. It’s affectionate and gentle, but it’s still undoubtably commanding.

You find yourself almost scrambling to obey him, just as you have the other lovely times in your life he’s used that voice on you. You pull each of the books closer and read where he’s marked. They also say the same thing. You see the person you love the most romantically in the illusion. After finally finishing the last page he marked, you look back up at him with wide eyes, almost trembling a little bit as you still struggle to fully believe what you’ve just read.

You murmur, “You said at Hoskel’s party that it was just a general loved one that people saw. You didn’t mention romantic love. Ez? Is this true?”

He pauses for a moment and then nods. “It is. When I went in, I didn’t think I’d see anyone. A year and a half ago, I told you that I didn’t need deeper feelings in my life beyond what already existed in our friendship. I didn’t think the trap would work on me because I didn’t think I “loved” anyone like that. Then I saw you in that trap and it felt like my heart stopped beating,” he says, pausing to take a breath as if steeling himself to remember what came next.

After a moment, he continues, “The absolute terror that went through me the moment I heard your voice and saw you in that illusion. The fury I felt towards those I saw hurting you in the illusion. The pure anguish I felt when I couldn’t save you…it was as if the world went dark in my eyes. When I told you last night a life without you wasn’t living to me, I meant every single word. I had a glimpse of what that would be and feel like. I was in hell thinking I didn’t have you in my life anymore. I was in the deepest parts of hell until I finally remembered you were still here in Piltover, perfectly safe. I’m not sure I can properly express how fucking relieved I was to realize it was just an illusion. It was like taking a first breath of air after thinking you’re drowning.”

He sighs and runs his hands through his hair before looking into your eyes as he talks, “That’s when I realized I’d been completely lying to myself. Turns out I also broke your rule number four. I’m so in love with you, (Y/N). I’ve just been trying to work up the courage to tell you. Believe it or not, I also didn’t want to fuck up our friendship. Having you in my life means everything to me. I didn’t think you felt the same way. Why would you? A year and a half ago you said dating me would be a one way express ticket to driving yourself insane. The last thing I ever wanted to do was cause you unhappiness. So I just….tried to hide my feelings. Or I suppose I just loved you silently, in the small ways, by doing small things. Taking care of you and trying to make you happy because doing so makes me happy.”

You can’t help but melt at how sincere he looks. Your voice is soft, “Oh Ez…so that’s why you’ve been so sweet lately. Well you do make me very happy. Seeing your sweet side also made me very happy, but it was just all so confusing once I realized I didn’t see you as just a friend anymore.” You reach over and gently cup his cheek, smiling softly at how he eagerly leans into your touch, turning his head and kissing your palm softly.

Your thumb rubs his cheekbone as you muse, “I had my realization at Hoskel’s party last night. It’s why I got so distracted and tensed up while we were dancing. My feet were actually starting to hurt, so I didn’t lie about that, but it was the other realization that made me so physically anxious. I realized I’ve been falling in love with you for a while and that I was well and truly sunk. I didn’t know what to do because I didn’t believe there was any way you felt the same. The very last thing I wanted to do was push you away, but I knew I couldn’t lie to you or not tell you.”

Ez stands and opens his arms for a hug. You gladly jump up from your chair and walk directly into his waiting embrace. As he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, you nuzzle his neck and let out a happy sniff, a few more tears trickling out.

“I hope those are happy tears I feel, Angel,” he murmurs. He then chuckles softly as he feels you nod. Both of you just stand there, holding each other tightly for a minute as these new revelations sink in for both of you.

Eventually, you have a thought that breaks the idyllic joy of the moment, and you have to voice it. “Ezreal…there’s still stuff we need to talk about,” you murmur quietly. “What are we going to do? We love each other, yes, and that makes me so damn happy. However, your career…you’re gone so often a-and for so l-long. It s-sucks when you’re gone. I miss you so t-terribly, but I’d never ask you to stop exploring and adventuring. It’s your passion. Your drive. You’re so damn good at it. If I asked you to give it up, I fear you’d come to regret me. That’s something I couldn’t bear…”

“I'll pay the price, I'll sacrifice; That's on my love, yeah”

He nods and kisses your cheek. “You’re right baby, this is something we must talk about,” he replies, thinking for just a moment. “How about some compromising? Love is compromise and communication, right? Occasionally you should take some time off and come with me. It’s fun! I won’t make you go into any cursed or trap-filled places. In fact I definitely would rather you didn’t. I want you safe. This way though, you’d at least be there, and it wouldn’t be as terrible for either of us since we’re together. I’m researching some potential smaller expeditions closer by that would be perfect.”

You think for a moment before smiling and nodding, liking the idea. “You know I love history, especially ancient history. I’ve always been jealous you get to see these incredible sites, so it would be amazing if I got the chance to see some myself,” you reply.

He smiles and kisses your forehead before murmuring, “I do know and I’ve always wanted to show them to you and see your face light up as you see the history in front of you. As for my compromise, when I do come home, I’ll stay home longer in between expeditions. Either I’ll stay enough time to match the length of the expedition, or at least 3 months, whichever is longer. I say at least 3 months because believe it or not, it’s really hard to leave you, you know. I hate leaving you. So I may not even want to leave here after 3 months to go travel,” he concedes.

You tighten your arms around him and smile a little. “I’ll certainly do my best to make you not want to go. I hate it when you leave me, even though I know you’re doing incredible things and I’m wildly proud of you. You’re amazing, truly,” you say.

Ez leans forward and kisses your forehead, murmuring against your skin, “This way I’ll have more time with you between expeditions. It’ll also give me more time to better research the locations I’m going. I sometimes wing it more often than I probably should.” You can feel him flinch a little as he admits this to you.

You just let out a teary laugh and nuzzle his cheek. “Fucking hell, Ezreal! Don’t tell me that. That will just make me worry more. I do like these compromises, though. I think traveling together might be fun! Or we’ll kill each other, but hey that’s part of the excitement,” you let out on a giggle. You take a breath before continuing, “and knowing I get more time with you here at home makes me very very happy.”

He smiles. “It makes me very happy too. I’ll also give you a key to the house and tell my uncle you’re welcome to it while I’m here or away. I know you enjoy wearing my clothes because they smell like me, yeah? I might as well give you the chance to steal some whenever you want.” He gently smirks at you.

You blush deeply and hide against his shoulder again as you nod. “Y-yes please. It’s extremely comforting to have something of yours when you’re gone. Are you sure your uncle would be alright with me having a key? I wouldn’t want to be a bother” You look back up and meet his gaze.

“I truly don’t think he’ll have an issue with that. He knows we’re close. He’s always been fond of you since you manage to keep me mostly in line. He likes to say you’ve done ‘a hell of a job protecting this family’s name and reputation.’” Ez’s smirk widens.

You can’t help but giggle. “I certainly try my best to keep you respectable, that’s for sure. But, that sounds good. As long as he doesn’t have an issue with it.” You smile softly at him. “And hey, maybe I could have dinner with him every now and then while you’re away. Or we could have dinner with him when you’re here. As much as the two of you don’t see eye-to-eye, he is your family, Ez, and I do want to get to know him better.”

His eyes soften. “I’ll talk to him about it. I know how important family is to you.”

You nod and softly murmur, “It means so much to me. And it will continue to mean so much to me as I continue into the future.”

Ez smiles and turns ever so slightly pink. “Speaking of the future..this is a long way away, but if, somewhere in the future, we…” his voice trails off and he blushes more, his voice shy as he continues, “..well, i-if our relationship goes to the next step and we e-eventually want to start a f-family of our o-own, I’m h-happy to adjust my e-expedition timelines even more.” He kisses your forehead.

Your eyes widen and you turn bright pink as you process what he says.

He murmurs against your forehead. “I love my parents, and I know they love me. Every day I hope they’ll come home, now more than ever so they can see you, see how you’ve grown up since we were little, and see how much I absolutely adore you. Both of them always liked you, you know, especially my mother. She’d be absolutely thrilled with this development,” he says, grinning.

You kiss his cheek and smile. “All my memories of your parents are fond ones, Ez. They were always so lovely to me.”

He lets out a sigh as he holds you closer. “My one regret, though, is how often and how long they were both gone. How much of my childhood it seems like they missed. I-I want to do things differently when I have a family of my own,” he admits to you. He seems to realize even more what he’s saying and he blushes even more, smiling at you shyly. “I apologize, I’m getting way far ahead of myself. Do you even want kids? It’s alright if you don’t. They’re not a necessity for me. Pets are fine too,” he rushes to add.

You giggle softly and gently peck his lips. “I have been thinking about getting a cat lately. I wouldn’t mind having kids, though, but only if they’re yours, Indiana Jones. I want to see you with a daughter, actually. Especially one with your eyes. I think that would be very cute,” you muse, picturing the adorable scene of future him playing with a little girl who has his golden hair and blue eyes. “But that’s not something we need to rush into. I’m happy to wait a while on that. We have time.”

He nods, his face lit up, before he rests his forehead against yours. “I agree, though I hope any kids we do have get your eyes, not mine. But you’re right. We’re young and we have plenty of time to make that decision if and when we’re ready for it. God I’m just so happy…” he murmurs, and you can hear the genuine joy in his voice. “(Y/N), I’m going to kiss you now. Like really kiss you. Is that alright?

You beam as you already start to pull him closer. “Of course, Ez…please do,” you murmur back happily.

You thread your hands in his hair as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you against him. Before you know it, he’s kissing you completely breathless. His lips are fervent and his kiss is filled with so much emotion that once again, he has your legs going a little weak. He’s quite talented at making them do that at this point. You kiss him back in kind. Your lips move slowly against one another’s and it’s not until a few long moment later that you pull away slightly in order to catch your breath and slow your racing heart.

He rests his forehead against yours and looks you in the eyes as one of his hands moves to lace with one of yours. The love you see in his expression nearly undoes you. His gentle gaze travels over every bit of your face, as if memorizing how you look in this very moment. “God you’re perfect…and I love you so damn much,” he murmurs, his soft voice full of emotion.

You smile, blush, and cup his jaw with your free hand, murmuring back, “And I love you, Ezreal. So very much. So what do you say? Let’s officially end our best friends with benefits arrangement and start an actual relationship? With dates and cheesy shit?”

He grins and nods. “Absolutely, princess. Although let’s be honest with each other, we were sort of already doing dates and cheesy shit, both of us were just in wild denial about it,” he says, a touch of humor coloring his voice.

You smile as you blush even more. “Now that I think about it, you’re right. We were basically a couple in every way but name.” You giggle.

His expression softens as he continues, “Let’s make one thing very clear though,” he gently kisses your forehead. “You’ll always be my very best friend. I just also happen to be very in love with you.”

You smile and murmur, “I couldn’t have worded it better myself.” You sigh and close your eyes. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone in bed this morning…I just…I got overwhelmed and needed to try and sort all of this out in my head.”

Ez kisses you softly. “It’s alright baby, I understand. This is an excellent spot to think in. But now that we’ve figured it all out….please come back to bed with me?”

“You take all my inhibitions. Baby, there’s nothing holding me back.”

You sigh again, this time happily, and let out a breathless giggle as his lips move to start traversing along your jaw and throat. As he does so, his hands grip your hips to keep you close to him.

“You and your ability to turn me into god damn putty. How could I refuse such a lovely and polite request. I’m in love with such a gentleman,” you playfully say. You smirk as you feel his fingers dig into your hips a little bit more.

Before you can even register what’s happening, you’re looking down at Ezreal’s returning smirk as he carries you out of the library.

You let out a gasp and instinctively wraps your legs around his waist, causing his smirk to widen. “Ezreal!” You exclaim on a delighted laugh.

He just chuckles in return. “Do you think anyone will be surprised we’ve gotten together?”

You can’t help but blush. “I don’t think my family will be very surprised, considering their suspicions regarding the hickeys you left on me. What about your uncle? Will he be shocked?”

He grins and shakes his head. “Probably not, to be honest. As I said, he knows we’re close. I’m sure he’s had his own suspicions over the years.”

“I’m curious if other people outside of our families suspect something. Based on Hoskel’s words last night as we were leaving…well it seems like everyone but us knew,” you giggle as you play with his hair.

“They don’t know for sure though. We could have some fun with them,” he says as his expression turns mischievous.

Your eyebrows go up at the suggestion. “You really think we could control the narrative for a while? As soon as there’s a whiff of a rumor, you know they’ll jump on it,” you murmur.

He leans up and nips your jaw before pulling back and grinning at your soft whine. “I know you hate being the center of society’s attention. Why not keep our happiness to ourselves for a little longer? Though I’m not going to deny our relationship if someone asks us directly, of course. I’ll be quite happy to be known as yours.”

You blush happily and kiss his cheek. “So considerate. And I’m very happy being publicly known as yours too. But I do like the idea of keeping things low-key for now. Let’s do it. Let’s cause some eventual chaos for the vultures.”

Ez sets you down on the bed so you’re sitting at the edge, while he’s still standing between your legs. You take the chance to lower your arms and slide your hands back up under his shirt. His head tilts back in a happy sigh.

“‘Cause chaos?’ You weren’t kidding earlier this morning, Angel. I really have corrupted you a little bit,” he chuckles.

You smirk and gently pull his shirt collar down so his face is level with yours. “Only you know how much though.” You wink at him. “After so many years with you, I suppose ‘lady in the streets, freak in the sheets,’ is the energy I’ve been going for. Since you’re the only one who has seen me and will see me in both settings, have I been successful at it?” Your smirk widens as your question causes his eyes to darken.

He lays you back and crawls over you, leaving a trail of kisses random places on the way up. He pauses so his lips are right above yours as he murmurs, “My love, you’ve succeeded at that goal just as you’ve done everything else you’ve set out to do. With excellence.”

Your face lights up as he calls you “my love.”

Ez smiles gently and pecks your lips. “What is it, princess?”

You blush happily as you look up at him. “Say it again. Call me your love again.”

His grin grows. “Do you like pet names, my love? I had no idea.” His voice is dripping with playful sarcasm as he winks back at you.

You laugh and gently swat his shoulder. “Bullshit, Ezreal. You might have started calling me “princess” when we were kids, but you certainly don’t mean it innocently anymore. And you know I know that.”

His grin shifts to a smirk as you talk. “I will neither confirm nor deny I had this knowledge. Do I have permission to call you pet names?”

You lean up and kiss him, murmuring, “Permission enthusiastically granted as long as I may call you more pet names in return.”

He nips your bottom lip before his lips travel to your right ear. His voice is like a low purr as he murmurs, “Absolutely, princess. Call me whatever you want. I just want to be yours.”

You sigh happily and turn your head so you can kiss him, your hands starting to tug his shirt up his back. “When you said come back to bed, handsome, I figured we’d be going to sleep again,” you tease.

“Didn’t you say earlier this morning that I’m your favorite sleep aid? That my methods make you feel the best? What sort of partner would I be if I didn’t make myself useful for you? As I’ve said before, happy to be of service, my princess. Thrilled you could even say. Shall I figure out the proper dosage to help you fall asleep?” he teases back smugly. His calmer voice is very much at odds with his actions as he practically tears his shirt off in his eagerness.

You grin widely at him. “Sounds great to me. Thank goodness I have such a caring boyfriend who is so concerned about me getting the rest I need.” Your voice is very playful as your hands rest on his now-bare chest.

His face lights up brightly as you call him your boyfriend. He leans down again and kisses you hungrily for a moment before pushing back up and grinning down at you.

“Now, Ez, you know I’m a person of science. So tell me, what method are you trying first?” Your eyebrows go up and you bite your lip as you gently start to move a hand down his chest.

Ez leans down and nibbles along your collarbone, causing you to gasp softly. “You know, it is breakfast time…and oh! Looks like I have my favorite meal under me. What a coincidence, hrm?” He murmurs against your skin before looking up at you while one of his hands travels to your thigh and gently traces shapes into the soft skin. He winks, causing your cheeks to go bright red.

It’s amazing how easily he can fluster you. “Well how convenient for you! I believe it’s always nice to really take your time and savor your favorite meal…after you quickly start enjoying it, that is,” you whisper breathlessly.

“Great minds think alike, Angel,” he murmur. He pushes up the shirt of his you’re wearing to expose your stomach so he can lean down and start leaving marks. “So you’re amenable to me having ‘breakfast’ then?”

“Yes, Ezreal. Now, please.” You can definitely hear the impatience in your voice as you gently use your nails to scratch lightly along his scalp. “A preemptive ‘thank you for making me see stars,’ Indiana Jones.”

He leans back up and kisses you deeply again for a moment before smirking and whispering against your lips, “And a preemptive ‘sweet dreams’ for you, my princess.”

Then he starts kissing back down your body and well, let's be honest, it really doesn’t take too long for you to get to enjoy your sweet dreams of him.

EPILOGUE

“If you were by my side and we stumbled in the dark; I know we’d be alright, I know we would be alright.”

(Five months later)

“Are you ready, princess? We’re almost there,” Ezreal’s soft voice fills the small carriage the two of you are traveling in. Though, unlike the last time you traveled to Councilor Hoskel’s mansion, where you were sat next to him on the bench of the carriage, this time you’re happily settled in a much more preferable position. You’re on Ez’s lap, nuzzling his cheek. He’d just returned from another 2-month-long expedition a couple days ago and both of you just couldn’t get enough of being in each other’s arms again. You're sure everyone is sick of the two of you, but you really can't find two fucks to give. Your favorite person is finally home again.

You gently pull back and smile at him, nodding. “I suppose so,” you say. "Though I'd much rather be a little selfish and have you to myself tonight, if I'm being honest."

Ez tilts his head and smirks widely at you before pecking your lips. "I assure you, the feeling is entirely mutual, baby, but my uncle and your family are coming this time and we promised them we'd attend. I'd rather not have them hunt us down to make sure everything is alright," he murmurs affectionately.

You smile as you think about your family and his uncle. You both told them about your new relationship status first. As predicted, none of them were shocked in the very slightest. The nerve-wracking part was over. Then it was time to have a little fun with everyone else.

The fun part came at the next society event Ez was invited to, a couple weeks after the original event at Hoskel’s. You and him coordinated outfits to match colors, your dress to the vest he wore under his suit jacket. This was just cute, classic, and easy thing to do but boy did tongues wag. You’d been his plus one for years, but the two of you never coordinated colors so precisely before now. The fact you did had rumors flying from the moment you and him stepped into the event space.

A month after that, there was also the much less subtle incident involving a lipstick print on the side of his jaw neither of you realized was there. It obviously matched your lipstick color of choice for the evening. The gossip reporters and photographers had an absolute field day with that one. You’d never felt so mortified, but Ez reassured you, through the power of many cuddles and kisses, that it was completely fine. He reasoned that it just ripped the band aid off letting everyone else know. Besides, he was ecstatic to be widely known as yours.

Thankfully, now you can look back on it and laugh. It was pretty funny in hindsight, and it definitely confirmed everyone’s pretty strong suspicions at that point that the two of you were together. If anything it made things easier since you didn’t have to hide your small moments of public affection with him anymore.

“You know I’ll always be proud to be by your side, right, Indiana Jones? Because I am incredibly proud of you and I love you very much,” you say.

“I know that and I’m very honored to be worthy of your love, (Y/N). I love you too.” Ezreal says, pecking your lips as the carriage slows. “Ready to face your adoring public again, princess?”

You giggle and take his hand, squeezing gently as you wink at him. “Absolutely! With you, Ez, I’m ready to face anything.”

And there we go! The end! I was finally able to sit and finish my edits. Thank you long weekend! And thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! As I mentioned at the end of chapter 2, this probably won't be the end of works in this universe. I'm in Ezreal brainrot at the moment (I blame the heavenscale skin splash arts. Obsessed with how Ez looks for both his regular and prestige skins).😅

#ezreal #ezreal fic #ezreal x reader #ezreal fluff #ezreal smut #ezreal angst #reader insert #league fanfic #lmao love using an ATLA gif for this

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