#Part of it is that I really like singing and that is the ONLY place I can really do it

[highvern]

Steam I

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x f!reader

Genre: ATLA au, enemies(?) to lovers, forbidden romance, royalty au

General Warnings: violence (bending fights), injuries (mentions of broken bones, burns, blood, bruises), alcohol consumption, mentions of prostitution Smut Warnings: multiple smut scenes, fingering, dry humping, slight exhibitionism, oral sex (f & m receiving), unprotected sex, handjob, hair pulling, marking, virgin!reader, wonwoo has a tiny bit of a corruption kink

Length: ~14k | Fic Length: ~60k

Credits: banner: @caelesjjk and @shadowkoo | betas: @tomodachiii @miniseokminnies @gyuswhore @haologram and @wqnwoos

Note: insane insane insane. i started this from a tiny little head cannon forever ago and when i started writing i anticipated maybe 20k max. but im a liar because this quickly excelled that by a landslide. i hope yall enjoy this monster of a fic as much as i did writing it. i'll be uploading each part with one day in between. p.s i used the ATLA wiki to build a believable setting for this but it really diverges from cannon and doesn't mention any of the original characters from the cartoon.

summary: Wonwoo is the best fire bender in Capitol City. Or he is. But a water bender he's never seen before changes everything.

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Ranchous voices filled the warehouse, deafening as the hoard of bodies looking for a night of gruesome entertainment flooded the stands. Steam and smoke and dust clogged the air, only cleared by the occasional rush of wind the massive hole in the ceiling that showed the clear night sky above, the moon barely half full and the stars dusted across the sky.

Wonwoo watched from the catwalk criss-crossing high above the ring like always. He won’t fight until later, not until someone was dumb enough to challenge him once the adrenaline of the smaller spars bubbles to their head and they decide they would be the one to end his winning streak proudly tallied on the leaderboard. 

But for now he stood on the metal platform. Below, Jihoon launched a clay disk at his opponent with terrifying speed. With a wide swing of his arm, Chan knocked it aside before it could land, spinning off balance from the recoil.

Too easy. But no matter how many times the two fight, Chan never catches on to Jihoon’s tricks until it's too late. Jihoon hurled a second disc – cracking it into pieces with a squeeze of his fist – at Chan’s head. The airbender managed to dodge the first piece but the other two landed true, crumbling him to his knees. The crowd fell into a frenzy of starved animals, foaming at the mouth as a tally mark appeared next to Jihoon’s name on the victory board.

Wonwoo’s name sat on the next line above, so many tallies they nearly ran off the side of the sheet of repurposed metal. 

He rarely lost. Dokyeom might force a draw for fear the building would burn down if a fight dragged on; but the last time that happened was nearly two years ago when Seungcheol demanded one final fight before retiring. They both walked away with matching black eyes and limps, his friend with singed uneven hair, and Wonwoo with a concussion and a dislocated shoulder.

It was one of the few fights Wonwoo didn’t mind losing. Defeat was much sweeter when he got paid half the betting pool for it.

The next fight geared up to start; another air bender and a fire bender racing into the ring. Wonwoo rarely cared to watch their fights. Hoshi lacked finesse, relying on overwhelming his opponents, while Seungkwan’s temper historically ended the match before it could really begin. But it never stopped the audience from rushing to place their bets with Jeonghan like always.

Deciding he needed a drink for the chaos about to unfold, Wonwoo descended the stairs towards the crude bar in the corner of the upper tier of the stands. It’s nothing more than a shabby counter top, covered with colorful bottles and cracked cups.

The sting of fire whisky going down didn’t shock his system nearly as much as the woman leaning against the wall; watching him, gaze heavy on his skin even in the dim light. 

Rounding the bartop, Wonwoo didn’t look away as he approached. If you balked under his gaze, he can’t decipher a tell; only a satisfied smile pulling the corner of your lips high and your eyelids lowering until his chest brushes yours.

His arm rests above your shoulder, pinning you beneath his gaze. “You’re staring at me.”

It isn’t a question, it's an accusation. And you’re more than guilty.

“And what are you going to do about it?” You asked, chin tilting back defiantly, eyes narrowed. Wonwoo makes the mistake of looking at your mouth, hypnotized by the tantalizing pout of flesh as it slips into a smirk. He walked right into your trap before he even knew what was happening.

He dipped closer, eyes still on your lips. “What's your name?”

Just as your nose brushed his own, you melted off the wall and under his arm. Wonwoo cut a glance over his shoulder to find you stalking backwards into the crowd, eyes never leaving his until you're swallowed into the fold without a trace.

The dare was so obvious in your gaze. Paired with the teasing words, Wonwoo felt something surge inside him. That hot need to chase, to tease you back. To find out if your boldness evaporated with enough attention or if you’d use the same haughty tone to chaste him in private.

Wonwoo moved to do just that but he’s called to the ring for the next fight.

“Our reigning champion, the man of fire,” Dokyeom preened dramatically into the mic. The crowd roared in enthusiastic response. “The longest running victor in bending battle history!”

People parted as Wonwoo approached the walkway leading to the isolated platform surrounded by a steep drop off into a pool of water. Maybe he reveled in the applause and anticipatory cheers longer than necessary but if anyone’s earned it, he has.

“And our newest challenger!”

The poor idiot who signed up to fight shouldn’t last too long, Wonwoo isn’t interested in dragged out humiliation. Especially not now. Hopefully, he can end this quickly and find you again, bargain his victory for your name and maybe some time alone.

But, as swiftly as his hopes ignited, they crumbled to ash. Dokyeom continued his rambling as you flashed a smug smile across the ring.

He faltered for only a moment before continuing towards the center of the ring. Out of the dark, he failed to decipher anything that might give him advantage. You lacked the breezeness of an airbender, posture too rigid, the cocky defiance from earlier still present. Maybe an earthbender. Or better yet, a firebender.

Your eyes trickle down his form. Only one of you is at a disadvantage so far but it won’t remain that way for long. Wonwoo thrives on a challenge, and after so long without one his heart squeezed in excitement.

“Good luck.”

You remained silent, eying Wonwoo’s outstretched hand before ignoring it, turning towards your side of the platform with your nose in the air.

Gasps of shock erupted around the warehouse. The stands circling the platform were fuller than before, even the people who only came to socialize found a sudden interest in the stranger bold enough to snub the best. Wonwoo paid them no mind. You’re the most interesting opponent he’s had in a long time.

Words from earlier echoed in his ears.

What are you going to do about it?

Wonwoo followed suit and retreated to his post with a few grounding breaths. The flame inside him grew in preparation. Hungry. Vicious. It raged until there's nowhere for the fire to go but out.

The starting bell cut the air; immediately he's on the offensive, dropping into a low stance, arms drawn into his side before the shrill sound stopped. A swift punch launched a huge fireball from his fist, a swell of heat surging through his veins as it sails over the ring with terrifying speed. Then another and another, fast enough that just as one dissipates, it’s already replaced with a new explosion of flames.

Barely any smoke filled the air when they dissolved. They were nothing more than a cheap scare tactic; completely hollow shells aimed to intimidate rather than maim. The fight is just starting and there's no reason to throw his best moves just yet.

You sidestepped each blow, dipping close to the floor before rising again and twirling out of the way with catlike grace. Wonwoo lobbed the next one right in your path but you adapt without pause. Like you’re dancing around the fire. With the fire. 

Wonwoo rushed forward, taking the advantage to drive you towards the edge of the platform, refusing to grant an ounce of reprieve. Not that you needed it. Every blow is avoided even as he adds more punch to the moves, each burning hotter and brighter than the one previous.

He maintained a healthy distance, plenty of room to keep the heat away from himself as his arms sweep and a ring of fire slices at your feet, close enough to singe the edge of your boots before you can avoid it completely. But you dove through the opening and rolled back to your feet, as if you expected the blow.

Wonwoo sliced his hand through the air, a razor thin whip of flame bursting forth to lick against your chin, close enough to feel the heat but Wonwoo maintains control. You could’ve blocked the move but you retreat again, eyes furious at the smoke of burnt hair jagged from contact dangling next to your jaw.

Wonwoo can’t detect any attempt at bending. The clay disks stacked at the edge of the ring remained unmoved, the air undisturbed. There’s no pull at the flames he’s conjuring, no hint that you're manipulating his own fire against him.

After another one sided volley of hits, your refusal to fight began to wear on his nerves. He harnessed more flame with a sweep of his leg, a swift stomp sending it over your head before it exploded and knocked you to your knees. You controlled the impact and roll to a crouch, eyes blazing,

“Is that really all you’ve got?” you said, shoulders squared but lax. 

There’s no teasing in your voice, if anything it’s cold disappointment. To Wonwoo’s shame, a hot bolt of want ran through him. Images of you whispering the same words, with the same haughty tone, flashed in his mind; back in the dark corner near the bar where you started this entire game; back in one of the many unused rooms of the warehouse with just you and him and no one else to watch him earn your approval.

Your leg circled around and Wonwoo prepared himself for something of interest to finally happen but you used the momentum to raise back on your feet and brace for the next round.

Wonwoo realized you must be a waterbender. The way you moved, melting around every attack, shifting with impressive flexibility, was a dead giveaway. That or just plain stupid. If you walked into this fight with no bending then it was only a matter of time before you cut your losses and yielded. 

Only one way to find out.

A towering wall of pure flame, large enough it’d scare even him to be on the receiving end, swelled in front of Wonwoo. The crowd roared in excitement, feral for the inevitable end to the match. There was nowhere for you to evade this time. It was either into the flame or off the backend of the platform. 

A flat footed kick sent the wave barreling directly at you, consuming more oxygen and growing wider with rapid speed.

The flood of fire forced your hand. A tsunami of water rose from the grates criss-crossing the ring, geysers gushing with enough pressure to shake the floor. A sharp hiss echoes as opposing elements collided in an explosion of steam thick enough to clog the entire warehouse. So dense Wonwoo can’t see in front of his own nose.

Wonwoo stood unfazed, even as the crowd distantly murmured in confusion. Now, the game truly began.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he called, listening. Waiting.

A splash behind him is the only warning of your presence. Wonwoo slashed his leg through the air, an arch of flame slicing through the fog providing a brief glimpse of visibility before it sealed back up. However, it did nothing more, you weren’t there.

“Longest running victor in battle history, and he can’t even land a hit,” you tsked.

Wonwoo jerked at the sound of your voice, so close he expected to find you right behind him but he’s only met with a faceful of powder.

A fucking snowball?

You must have been close enough to see the scowl twisting his face because you giggled before launching another.

“Can’t handle a little water?” you snorted.

Under different circumstances, ones not involving you pelting him like a child, Wonwoo might have enjoyed the sound. He might have even wanted to find out what the sound tastes like on his tongue. 

Another snowball, this one more ice than anything, collided with his chin and that desire turned into cinders. He whipped fire towards the noise but missed.

Arms raised, he feigned as if to launch another and instead harnessed his breath and forced a wider arch of flame to evaporate the fog you’ve hidden in. Wonwoo found you evading from the corner of his eye and used the moment of weakness to spring into action.

Except you crumbled with a choked scream and the sudden rush of victory tastes like ash.

Three wide strides and Wonwoo was there, hunched and ready for the next blow; ready for another one of your tricks. But your choppy breathing extinguished his competitiveness. The air reeked of burnt. The entire ring smoldered with heat.

He should’ve known better; especially with you. So clearly unprepared for the intensity of a fight like this. Dokyeom should never have let you put your name down to fight, let alone against Wonwoo.

Acrid smoke rose from the discolored collar of your tunic; too close to hope he hasn’t burnt your face but he does anyway. Wonwoo prepared for the worst as he rolled you over, already yelling for a healer.

He isn’t prepared for an icy fist straight to his nose with enough force to send him onto his back. “What the fuck?”

Another blow landed on the back of his head. Hot blood rushed forward as the next punch lands with a grotesque crunch against his nose. His skin stung with cold, eyes burning from the sudden influx of pain.

Long channels of water with blunt frozen ends sprouted from the grates like a watery forest. You stood unscathed amongst the pulsing curtains, smiling like a lunatic.

Wonwoo covered his head from the brunt of attacks. His nose was broken and one of his eyes was already swelling shut. A torrent of water collapsed over him, bearing down with the power of a waterfall. His knees buckled. The air in his lungs abandoned him.

In a last ditch attempt to save his pride, he thrusted his hand forward. The reek of ozone clouded the warehouse as electricity splintered towards you.

And as if it’s nothing, you redirected the bolt of lightning through the opening in the warehouse roof as Wonwoo watches in shock.

The warehouse went silent. Seconds grew into minutes but no one moved as you rose into a lazy stance. 

Wonwoo watched through sweat and blood, dark spots floating in his vision as the sound of your boots grew closer.

“How disappointing,” you sighed just loud enough for him to hear before striding towards the platform and out of view.

When the echo of your footsteps faded, Wonwoo sank into darkness.

In the late hour, the Middle District streets buzzed with life. Vendors shouted, hawking their wares, boasting exotic produce and clothing with incatract embroidery from the farthest reaches of the world. Taverns packed with patrons singing and hollering in drunken glee. The smell of fried dough and roasted meat wafted through the air.

Mingyu was easily distracted with every stall he passed. Why, you had no idea. Even as a guard he could get the

best quality of anything he wanted at the palace; food, clothing, drink. But he stuck his nose in the air as the scraggly old man refuses to barter over the bruised moon peaches and wanders down the aisle to another stand with the exact same selection and even more wrinkled merchant.

In the midst of his discussion on cherry nuts, you slipped away, down one of the cramped alleys choked with smoke and shouts of people enjoying the balmy night. 

No one looked in your direction twice as you meandered through crowded walkways, children squealing as they chased each other and adults shouting in annoyance when one bounces off their knees. In all the chaos, it was easier to disappear and actually explore without Mingyu hovering like an anxious mother hen. If anyone would get you two caught for sneaking out of the palace, it was him. Even in servant’s clothes, you couldn’t help but feel woefully out of place and he wasn’t helping.

The side streets were calmer; veins flowing slowly into the heart of main street. People moved in lazy sways, some appearing to only remain vertical from leaning against door frames into dark hallways. The lanterns strung above cast an oily sheen on the cobblestone. If you remembered the archive maps correctly, the Gaiety should be close.

Even through the thick clouds above, you felt the moon swelling. Only a few more days until she’d be full and with it came the unbearable restlessness. Mingyu only agreed to sneak you out of the palace after the fight weeks ago because you’d nearly taken his head off while sparring. 

A night away, somewhere new. Somewhere to take out the energy without nearly killing him. The warehouse out in the harbor was out of question after the fight weeks ago. Not with the way you made a spectacle of the cocky firebender you’d studied for weeks. Mingyu threatened to rat you out if you thought for a second to step back in there. At least it’d been worth the loss; Wonwoo’s face as you redirected his lightning like it was nothing was worth every second of Mingyu's anger.

No longer feeling like one of your grandmother’s koi, swimming in endless circles of the garden pond, you forced your shoulders to slouch, chin tipping down to obscure your face beneath the wide brim of your hat.

Most of the buildings lining the street are shabby; peeling paint, splintered windows, wooden steps on the brink of collapsing from years of rot. Most are alive with noise, men and women crowded around low tables just beyond the door, wine flowing like a river and laughter spilling from open windows.

Further down, where the lanterns are more sparse with red shades casting everything in an eerie glow, the air grows thick with smoke. The street twisted like a grotesque snake, turning at harsh angles to hide whatever waited beyond, tangled in indecipherable turns. Buildings were little more than shacks, each leaning on the one next to it for support; stacked like a house of precariously stacked cards one gust of wind away from crashing down. Plenty of alleys jutted off into darkness, shadows shifting with scantily clad women and what looked like couples making no attempt to obscure what was clearly taking place. A small crowd still mills about, some ogling but most too absorbed in their own merriment. 

Just like when that firebender hit you with lightning, hairs all over your body stood on end. This place is wrong. You need to leave. Now.

Turning to do so, you found yourself nose to nose with a man completely blocking your vision.

“What is a pretty girl like you doing all alone?” he said, clearly drunk from his haphazard slant. That, or incredibly stupid. His breath stung your nose, bile rising at the scent of liquor.

Water, or something resembling it enough to heed your command, rocketed from a nearby drain pipe. The thick haze over the area dissipated in an instant, all eyes on the man frozen to the rickety wall of a nearby building, face turning purple as he shouted indignantly. 

You stared for a moment, stunned by your own hand. And then, you ran.

People shouted as you crashed through them, feet pounding on the uneven stone road. Several sets of footsteps chase, gaining by the sound of it, all calling for you to stop. You pushed yourself to run faster, so hard your muscles burned but you pressed forward.

Lungs screaming for breath, you rounded the entrance to the main street in time for someone to snag your arm in a vice grip.

“Let me g—” Your scream is muffled by your captor forcing your face into his chest, arm slipping around your shoulders to keep you from breaking free. You fought but couldn’t break free.

“Walk, don’t look back” a deep voice rumbled. 

The hands were too warm to belong to your guard – not that you’d be lucky enough to run into Mingyu and make it back to the palace so easily – completely unfamiliar and unnecessarily rough. Between the guards still in pursuit not far behind and the man already dragging you through the crowd, you preferred the odds of whatever this new stranger had planned.

Out of the side street, your new captor maneuvered hastily. People parted on either side of your path, allowing more distance to grow between you and the mob, but their yells licked at your heels. You chanced a glance up and found the very firebender you’d humiliated weeks ago. Features schooled in a neutral expression, Wonwoo kept moving further down the street, steps so wide it was difficult to keep up. 

“Next intersection go right.” 

Your heels dug into the ground, refusing to move another step with this man. No way he took that beating weeks ago and wasn’t holding a grudge. You humiliated him in public, in front of his friends and probably a few enemies; few men would take that without protest and pass up an opportunity for revenge.

“Trust me, princess.”

The word striked frigid fear through your veins like ice. But he kept his eyes forward, constantly scanning the crowd and using the momentary pause to push you forward. You bounced off another couple as you stumbled to do as he says, face still hidden in the collar of his shirt. The street is still wet from last night’s rain and the water calls in reassurance. 

Wonwoo underestimated you, like so many others. Even though he didn’t look smug about knowing your identity he was still a threat. Perhaps he thought your victory was a fluke but you were prepared to remind him what defeat tasted like.

But first, you needed to lose your pursuers. And for now, Wonwoo served that purpose.

The street he turned you down was far calmer, but no less packed. The bodies moved in a gentle pulse unlike the crush of the central avenue. Wonwoo pressed forward but not as urgently, flowing with the ebb of foot traffic.

Your muscles tensed as distance from the main street grew, prepared for Wonwoo to strike. To pull you into one of the shadowed alleyways and challenge you to another brawl. But there were too many witnesses here for him to do much, not to mention all the buildings made of wood. Unless he was a unique type of stupid. 

But, surely this was far enough to shed him. Another busy street was not far ahead, one you recognized; farther south from the palace than you’d like but you’d make do. You just needed to find Mingyu and get back to the tunnels before Wonwoo caught back up.

Preparing yourself to run, you chanced another look to see if guards from earlier were well and truly gone. The chaos of before hadn’t followed, no shouts or discontent from the people left in your wake. But you couldn’t be sure until you—

“Don’t look.”

You huffed but faced forward once more. “I wasn’t going to!”

“Yes, you were,” Wonwoo swallowed something like a laugh. 

How dare he! If he thought he could take you captive and chastise you like a rebellious child then he had another thing coming. 

You jumped to your toes, twisting against his tight grip at your waist to peer back. Only to find one of the men from earlier already staring straight at you.

“Hey! Stop right there!”

“You looked,” Wonwoo groaned. “Run!”

Turning again, you froze the lanky man’s feet to the ground. He stumbled at the unexpected set back, crashing into passersby who seemed none too pleased but you could only assume from indigent yelling as Wonwoo dragged you away.

“In here,” Wonwoo whispered, shoving you into a dark alley, barely more than a divot between buildings before he followed suit.

His body pressed tight against yours from knee to shoulder. Like back in the warehouse. When he nearly pinned you against the wall and almost made you forget the entire reason you went at all that night. When he tempted you with a different challenge than what you planned to offer. You might have considered the proposition if Wonwoo hadn’t failed so spectacularly; let him prove his worth beyond bending. 

In the dark, you tripped over the slick paced ground and fell straight into Wonwoo’s chest. With your hands planted on his shoulders, you felt his lungs stretch around gulps of air. Under more pleasant circumstances you’d remember the impropriety of it all. Alone with a man, in a dark corner of the city; breath mingled in choppy pants, the heat of him sinking straight into your bones with his thigh between your knees. And his hands. Such rough, warm hands pinned against your sides. If anyone saw then they’d see a couple unable to wait for a more private location.

But you didn’t find yourself caring in the slightest. Not about propriety or even the fact that Wonwoo all but admitted he knowingly fought a member of the royal family and was now doing something even more scandalous. You couldn’t think when you were wedged so tightly between a wall and a man, intimate proximity you’ve never experienced before. The miraculous way his palms fit perfectly against your hips, how his breath ghosted against your forehead and the deep rumble of his voice—

“What were you doing?” he said. “Are you trying to get yourself arrested?”

If only he’d shut his mouth long enough for you to enjoy the fantasy of being like any other woman in the kingdom, free to touch and be touched. But the reprimand shattered the short lived dream.

“They wouldn’t have arrested me,” you huff indignitaly. “I had it under control! Or do you need a reminder?”

“By all means, freeze me to a wall! That went so well last time, didn’t it? Maybe this time you can just wait around for them to catch you.”

“Maybe I will!” You jabbed a finger into his chest, momentarily shocked by the firm muscles there, before ducking out of the alcove and back onto the street before doing something stupid with the new information.

But Wonwoo yanked you back into the shadows just in time for one of the men to run past. “Do you even know where you’re going?”

“Of course I do!” you silently scream. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because only an idiot would visit the Red Lanterns alone. Especially a woman. You clearly didn’t belong there.”

He said woman, not princess. Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe it was a stupid nickname you were looking far too much into. There was no reason he should have recognized you. Your grandmother was so fiercely protective of her sole heir apparent that she hardly let you explore even the farthest corners of the palace grounds, let alone appear somewhere subjects got close enough to make out a single feature beyond your silhouette next to her. Only nobles, guardsmen, and servants would recognize you and the entire appeal of visiting the Middle District was none of them would be here. No one would know their princess was among them.

“Oh? And how do you know?”

“You’d be a lousy prostitute if you froze all your customers to a wall.”

You watched his face for any hint of dishonesty but he stared right back, eyes blazing with the same contagious annoyance. He didn’t know. His heart raced beneath your palm but didn’t stutter with dishonesty.

“Then what were you doing there?”

“I saw you earlier and thought…it doesn’t matter.” He eyed the disgust on your face before sighing. “Just tell me where you’re going and I’ll help you get there.”

“Thought what?” you gritted.

The air thickened with silence as different emotions flashed across Wonwoo’s face. He was no better than the drunk who tried to proposition you. Your thoughts might have devolved into something less than proper but you’d never act on it. If he thought he could just—

“No!” he shouted, eyes wide and bright red despite the dark. “That’s not…I wanted to challenge you to a rematch and then you went and got yourself into a fight.”

“So you were stalking me?”

“You’re in my neighborhood, waterbender. How do I know you’re not stalking me?”

You snorted at that in an attempt to ignore his muscles flexing between your thighs. He couldn’t have not noticed how compromising the position was. If he dipped his chin you could easily kiss him. Not that you would. Ladies did not kiss strange men in alleys; especially not princesses. Even if the strange man was incredibly handsome. And muscular. 

“Why would I need to stalk you for a rematch? I know where to find you if I need a confidence boost.”

Whether you liked it or not – and you most certainly didn’t – you were stuck with Wonwoo until you could shake him and the group of Middle District guards after you. Something tells you even if you did tell him you knew exactly where you needed to go, he’d follow just out of sight. That simply wouldn’t do if you wanted to keep your identity a secret; assuming he truly didn’t know.

Which meant he really did want to help; at least for now. As you peered back up, the fading bruises littering his jaw came into focus. Ugly splotches of yellow and green. Gifts you gave him freely and would happily supply more in spades but there is a twinge of guilt souring your stomach

“Did I do this?”

“Yeah,” he released a long breath through his nose, subtly leaning into your finger unconsciously tracing the marks. Someone did a good job healing him. “And you broke my nose.”

“Maybe next time you should learn to block,” you teased.

The same fire from when he approached you in the warehouse burned across his face, hot enough to scorch everywhere his body touched yours. Maybe one kiss, just to see what all the fuss was about, wouldn’t be so bad. The maids seemed to talk of nothing but which stableboys and guards they were kissing; how some were bad and others were good. Whatever that meant. How several were skilled at doing more vulgar activities with their mouths and hands. No matter how many times you asked, none of them ever answered what exactly they were so talented at but you read enough to have an idea.

For the briefest second, you wondered if Wonwoo would demonstrate just what it was that made the maids giggle so incessantly.

But as his head dipped closer to yours, the spell broke by the crush of reality. You needed to get back home. You needed to find Mingyu.

You looked back towards the street before speaking again, “I don’t know what the street is called but my friend was checking out fruit stalls when we got split.”

“Ah, yes,” Wonwoo grumbled, head tilting back against the wall behind him. “The one street with fruit merchants. Remember anything else? Cobblestones and people? Were there buildings?”

Smartass.

“Um… there was a stall with spirit carvings and a tea house.”

He scrubbed his face, or attempted to. There wasn’t enough room between your faces for the action so his hand hovered in the darkness awkwardly before collapsing back against your side. It seemed only then did he register his proximity, and whatever anger he clung to melted into stammering embarrassment. 

“Did you see the sign for the tea house?” he asked, eyes on the street.

“It was silver and had a—”

“The Silver Dragon. I know it. Come on.”

Another check that the coast was clear and Wonwoo pulled you back into the street, arm slung over your shoulders. He navigated easily enough. Each time he spotted something suspicious ahead he pulled you towards a stall, feigning interest in whatever goods were on display while watching from the corner of his eye until he deemed it safe enough to continue towards the Silver Dragon.

Slowly the buildings became more familiar; a merchant with a unique hat, the raven eagle fountain that hosted squealing children splashing in its waters. An old woman dishing out cups of frozen watermelon juice.

A silver flag embroidered with a dragon hung limply overhead. You scanned for Mingyu but to no avail, faces passed and blended the crowd into an amorphous ocean of strangers. Wonwoo kept a firm hold on your shoulders as the crowd swayed. He gripped your bare upper arm beneath the billowing sleeve of your tunic. No one besides your maids had touched you like this; so familiar and foreign at the same time. The heat of his palms like the first lick of a fire after hours in the snow. 

While Mingyu appeared to have moved on, the guards seemed to have doubled back. They wove through the thicket of people aggressively. Wonwoo froze, noticing at the same time that there was no way to turn around without garnering their suspicion. 

The street choked into a tight squeeze, locking you in place as the guards surged forward. Twenty feet, then ten. Then only a single person separated you from them and desperation fanned the flame of stupidity.

Your neck strained upward, and before Wonwoo could jump back, you fisted a hand in his hair and dragged him down to meet your mouth. He hesitated before sinking into the kiss eagerly, commanding your full attention with his teeth and the, with his tongue. With another pull, he guided you into the narrow space between merchant stalls, tripping over his own feet until all you registered was the hot press of him to your front and the chill of brick behind you. 

It’s not like the sweet chaste kisses in the plays you grew up watching. Wonwoo demanded nothing less than your complete attention with a hot suck against your bottom lip. You copied him with clumsy eagerness.

All the thinking, the responsibilities and reminders plaguing your consciousness silenced their screaming; instinct filled its place. Your hips thrashed until his thigh slotted between your legs with dizzying firmness but then there was the want of more that had you rocking against it. In the process you brushed against a lump between his own thighs, and the instinct to rub against it was too strong to ignore.

Wonwoo only groaned before diving to lap against the sensitive skin beneath your ear. He surged forward, meeting every curl of your hips with an enthusiastic arch of his own. A hand at the base of your spine, beneath your tunic, angled you just so – completely at his whim. His other hand heated the side of your throat, tipping your head back to leave you panting with another rough press of his mouth. 

Unconsciously, you traced his side, tugged at his shirt before letting go and only to crush the fabric again. Then your hands fell down his stomach until your palm pressed against that straining hardness and Wonwoo seized, teeth razing against your ear until you did the same. 

“Spirits,” he exhaled through swollen lips, grinding into your hand.

You sucked him back into another kiss, laving at the swell of his bottom lip until he knocked your hand away and spread your legs for a raw drag against your core. His head tucked into the crook of your shoulder, panting breath creeping through the fabric of your top as he did it again. The press of his mouth made your pace sloppy, mindless grinds until you both groaned.

You wanted him without the frustrating barrier of clothing obscuring the warmth of his hands, his chest; to have him do something about the aching emptiness settled in your core. The pang of needing something stoked by the bruising twists of him against you.

There’s no sound over the roaring blood in your ears. Sparks flashed in your vision but your eyes sneak open to watch Wonwoo’s face twisted in agony. You latched on to his neck – biting and licking the same way he did – until he made that noise again.

In the corner of your vision, you registered the pedestrians moving past as if nothing was happening. As if their princess wasn’t concealed only feet away, pressed against a strange man with a hand sneaking beneath the tie of his pants.

But instead of embarrassment, a hot jolt squeezed your chest. No one knew. Much like the nights you snuck from the palace to explore the city, your freedom was innocuous. A way to learn what was hidden behind the false shine councilmen presented in their reports and the poetic ramblings of tutors. 

Wonwoo could teach you about those sneaking passions that drove you mad on long nights. He already proved how much better they were when someone else wanted to resolve them.

Hours or days might have passed as you focused on coaxing out more of those delicious sounds – nail raking through his hair with every rut, rolling against him the same way waves rolled over the shore of the ocean under the full moon's pull.

Your vision blurred, unfocused on the faces walking past as Wonwoo sucked a bruise into your skin. That feeling in the pit of your gut twisted painstakingly tight like an itch you couldn’t scratch. More and more, until a familiar face passed by and reality came like an ice bath. 

Mingyu.

He couldn’t see you in the shadows, and the call of his name morphed into a throaty whine as Wonwoo snaked his hand further down your spine, down the back of your pants to squeeze the curve of your ass painfully. He continued to mouth at your shoulder, unaware. When you pushed him this time he pushed back with a hungered moan until you tugged him out of hiding.

“I have to go,” you panted, melting out of his grip. Your voice was unfamiliarly husky. Everything felt slower, hazier like the smokey streets earlier. 

His body tightened, attempting to pull you closer before letting go. Lips wet with spit, he regarded you with pure confusion. “What?”

But you were already back on the street before you could answer, underwear uncomfortably sticky. A problem for later; in the dark safety of your room. With vivid memories of a handsome firebender and the way his body felt surging against yours.

You chased Mingyu down the street, snatching his hand and taking off before temptation got the better of you and marched you back into the alley for Wonwoo to finish what started. 

“We need to leave,” you said. “Now.”

“Spirits, what did you do?” Mingyu cried.

“Just go!”

Wonwoo didn’t chase, and a part of you curdled with disappointment.

Wonwoo knew he should be in bed. Sleep or not, his body needed rest after the last few nights he spent awake plagued by the nightmare of you. He couldn’t concentrate. Blows he’d block with ease slipped by, bruises littered across his torso as proof. Forms he’d been drilled on for years and years to the point of muscle memory became sloppy enough for his commanders to notice.

And it was all your fault.

You were everywhere; the teasing lit of your voice, the heat of your eyes, the taste of your lips, those soft noises you made when Wonwoo pressed his cock into your core. 

It was bad enough after the first night you challenged him. Dokyeom spent all night healing Wonwoo and it hadn’t soothed the sting of humiliation. Then came the fact that no one knew who you were; Dokyeom hadn’t gotten your name, Jeonghan took bets under ‘death wish’. No one recognized you from anywhere in the city. You were a ghost. 

But then fate granted him a second chance, only for it to slip through his fingers. Again.

He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. Couldn’t do the one thing he’s good at without being consumed by thoughts of you.

Moonlight dappled through the trees overhead, casting everything in a hazy filter of silver and shadows. Something scurried across the trail ahead and dipped into the bushes. Wonwoo was only fifteen minutes out from the barracks, too close to people for any of the bigger creatures to venture close. Even if something did come across his path, maybe it's what he needed; a new distraction from the one who's been terrorizing him non-stop.

Besides, Wonwoo was a soldier, body trained to remain vigilant even if his mind wanders. If something decided to attack he could handle it. But only fireflies and cicada crickets disturbed the stillness of the forest late at night.

He isn’t sure how long he walked but the moon remained heavy and full in the sky. The sun lay far way away, deep beneath the horizon. Wonwoo’s thoughts wandered farther than his feet could take him, imagining how you’d be spending a night like tonight, probably somewhere getting into more trouble. Maybe freezing another drunken pervert to a wall.

Wonwoo couldn’t help but laugh at the idea. You with your nose in the air as some man begs for mercy, leaving him to rot just because you could. 

Then, as all his thoughts of you were in the past few days, the images morphed until it was you and him. You beneath him, on top of him; him between your legs, his cock, his mouth, fingers. All of it as he tried to earn your approval. 

There it was. The uncomfortable tightness across the crotch of his pants, the sweat at the edge of his collar. Even the most innocuous thoughts of you sent his body into a helpless frenzy. He hated it all the more because no matter what he did it never stopped. It didn’t matter if he trained until his bones crumbled in on themselves, muscles wilted and spent, there was a part of him immune to exhaustion in light of you. When he took the herbs the medic recommended to help him sleep, his dreams were plagued with the most vivid visions of you; even worse than the waking ones.

It was all your fault for kissing him. 

He could have dealt with the embarrassment of being defeated swiftly in the ring. Things happened, he wasn’t immune to bad luck against a good opponent. But you kissed him, and touched him. You let Wonwoo touch you as if there wasn’t a busy street of witnesses only a few feet away. You wanted him to; purred and whimpered with each drag against his thigh. If he had slipped his hand beneath your underbindings like he wanted to there would be evidence of your arousal. He wanted to do that too – where anyone could have seen him. On his knees, with his mouth between your legs as you writhed and pulled his hair until you came.

But he didn’t know your name and was at the mercy of the spirits if he was ever to see you again.

Wonwoo followed the channel, meandering with every bend as his mind worked over and over. He just needed to clear his head enough for tomorrow. After that, he’d figure something out. Find a way to find you or hope you stumbled into his path once more. 

Splashes up stream pricked his ears. The closest waterfall was at least an hour's trek upstream from the barracks, where the mountains dropped off into a steep cliff like a spirit cleaved it in half. Wonwoo didn’t know how far or how long he walked but the trees were too dense to be that far out.

The ground was no longer soft from the rain days ago and allowed Wonwoo to sneak forward without sound. It was a shame the night was so clear, the shadows hugging close to the trees, not nearly enough to conceal himself in. But it was of little consequence. 

He saw you in profile, bathed in moonlight as you stood in the river, water parted into great walls on either side. Even at a distance, Wonwoo traced the silk binding your torso and the dark leggings clinging to your thighs as you danced among the swelling waves eager to follow your whim. If he hadn’t known better, it looked like the moon was focusing her gaze on you, illuminating you from beneath your skin.

The longer he looked the more he was convinced you were a spirit. No matter how close the waves came to your person, they never seemed to make contact; water completely bent to your will, under total control.

Wonwoo shuffled closer like a moth to a flame. Completely enamored with the sight before him, he didn't realize his mistake until a twig snapped beneath his foot. 

In an instant, the sweat and humidity clinging to his clothes froze; icy crystals stinging against bare skin.

Your chuckle was barely audible over Wonwoo’s hiss of discomfort. Heat flushed through his veins, melting your attack but the chill remained.

“You know, it's getting really hard to believe you aren’t stalking me,” you called. The rings of water floated around you even with divided concentration. Something like jealousy and awe rooted in his chest.

“How was I supposed to know you’d be out in the woods tonight?”

“I’m just saying it’s convenient that you always show up when I’m alone,” you smirked. “Don’t worry. I didn’t freeze anyone to a wall this time.”

Cover blown, Wonwoo approached the dry river bank. “Speaking of that, you never said ‘thank you’ for saving your life.”

The whip circling your figure sagged back down into the stream. Wonwoo felt a piece of him warm that he was distracting enough to crack your focus so significantly despite the full moon. As you turned, he became privy to just how much visible through the silk bindings criss crossing your chest. “You didn’t save my life but thank you. Now, do you want to fight or can I get back to my training?”

He couldn’t help but focus on the glittering drops of water cradled in your collarbone. How sweet they’d taste on his tongue if given permission. 

“I think I’ll watch for now.” He took a seat on the river bank, legs sprawled in front of him, a careful bend of his knees so the tent in his pants became less obvious.

“Suit yourself,” you shrug. The tentacles previously encasing you rose once again.

It was entirely inappropriate to ogle a woman in nothing but her underclothes. If Wonwoo was a better man he’d leave, or at least have the decency to pretend he wasn’t staring like a starved wolf. But you were spectacular, flowing through different forms with ease that even the best trained guards in his unit would envy. You bent and stretched and twisted suggestively beneath the moonlight.

If you had a weakness, it didn’t show. You bent the river to your will easily, skill that only came with years of trial and failure. Wonwoo stopped admiring the sight of bare skin and focused on your strength as you flowed into the more advanced forms. Thick branches hanging over the river snapping clean from nimble water whips, tree trunks peppered with ice daggers the size of his forearm.

He couldn’t help sending a disc of flame to cut off your next water whip, collapsing it into the grass as you stared indignantly.

Another stream met a tongue of fire from his fist, a burst of steam left in its place. This time you face him with a huff and Wonwoo simply shrugged.

Wonwoo ignored your next moves. You reached over head in a wide circle, back stretched long, all the muscles and skin obstructed by the frustrating blue fabric. It wasn’t until you froze a wall of water in place that he sent a blast of heat, melting the ice to drench you. 

“Oops,” he shrugged, stifling a laugh at your indignation.

It’s not as funny when you dump half the river on him and Wonwoo was left gasping like a fish.

When he could finally breathe again, you smiled innocently with an ‘oops’ of your own. 

Then the game was on.

Unlike the disappointing night at the warehouse, Wonwoo kept up this time.

You never sparred with someone who didn’t treat you as something fragile. Even Mingyu, try as he might to entertain your wishes, refused to attack with the full force he was capable of. Wonwoo didn’t harbor the same concern.

Neither of you kept advantage for long. Every water whip evaporated before landing, each fireball snuffed by a wave. It was invigorating. You stood shaking and sweaty after hours of trading blow for blow, the moon already dipping low in the sky. Wonwoo didn’t appear to be faring any better. The bruises on his jaw were faded but new ones stained his torso, blood trickling down his elbow from a particularly nasty ice blade. Singed holes scattered your leggings but the grass and trees claimed the brunt of damage.

It would have been so much easier to concentrate if he hadn’t shed his shirt after a whip tore a jagged hole across the front, revealing a muscular torso to the pale moonlight. It was horrible knowing what beneath his clothes looked just as good as it felt the other night. Even worse when his pants ripped just above the knee and you caught a glimpse of his thigh.

The entire reason you even snuck out tonight was because of him. His taste, the feel of him pressed against you so intimately. It haunted you day and night – in sleep, while awake, in meetings, when you were all alone. There was nowhere you could go without the memory of his body against yours; nowhere you hadn’t wondered what could have happened in that alley if Mingyu hadn’t walked by. 

You needed something to banish the feeling of his mouth on yours, to dissipate the restlessness settled deep in your muscles. While wading knee deep in the river wasn’t a smart idea, there was nothing at the palace that could help. No one wanted to spar, not to the level you could during the days leading up to a full moon. It wasn’t fair to give your all while guards curbed their skills in fear of hurting you.

So you bid an early goodnight, feigning some sort of illness and retired to your room before the sun had set. Once the moon started her venture across the sky you dug in the back of your wardrobe for the dark clothes from days prior. They were wrinkled but served their purpose. With Mingyu standing guard at your apartment entrance, you snuck out the tunnels and into the city beyond the palace walls. 

The clearing was exactly what you needed. Plenty of water and space to lose control, trees offering their service as target practice for whatever twisted move your mind conjured. It helped. Your muscles strained with a level of exhaustion unfamiliar to you, enough so that your mind couldn’t roam as easily. But then he plowed through the forest like he owned it. Of course you couldn’t have a moment of peace, the spirits wouldn’t allow you to indulge in serene silence if they could help it. They sent Wonwoo straight to you as an act of retribution for your long list of sins.

But sparring with him burned away some of the tension. If you were fighting with Wonwoo then you couldn’t think about all the other cravings; of finishing what you started against that wall. Sending ice floes at his head kept him far enough away that even if you wanted to pull him against a tree or down to the grass, you couldn’t.

“Is that really all you got?” he taunted. Wonwoo’s pain is clear on his brow, every step closer punctuated by a limp and labored breathing. 

“Oh, please,” you grunted, launching a weak ice disc at his head. The wall of fire lapping at your heels disintegrated as Wonwoo dodged. “As if you could handle more.”

Something feral flashed in his eye at the taunt. “Try me.”

Well at least this time he wasn’t so disappointingly easy to overwhelm.

You skated across the clearing. With the river to your back once again, you pressed the advantage and sent wave after wave. Wonwoo narrowly dodged them with well timed kicks, his fire dispersing them into steam. But each volley soaked clearing until he struggled to remain upright on the muddy ground as he approached the riverbank.

With your next attack, he fell on his back with a hard grunt. For a long second he didn’t move and you worried you’d seriously injured him this time. 

“Wonwoo?”

His chest rattled with each labored breath as you approached. He looked horrible; a mess of sweat and dirt, hair matted to his head. His eyes flickered with pain as he stared up at you, hesitating to take your outstretched hand before accepting.

Back on his feet, Wonwoo wasted no time tackling you into the water.

Breaking the surface, you screeched, “You jerk!”

“Come on! I got that move from you,” he laughed.

Even in the midst of dunking his head under, your blood warmed at the sound. He gripped your body tightly to his own, pinning your wrists together in one hand, effectively cutting off your bending. But you refused to go down without a fight. Fortunately he didn’t think you’d be formidable at hand to hand combat and while it was true, he was stronger, you slammed your foot against his thigh, breaking Wonwoo’s hold long enough to slip away.

He breached and sputtered before following again. “Where did you learn that?” 

You tussled on the shore, shoving handfuls of mud into each other’s hair and skin. Your legs hooked around his waist, rolling until you sat on his stomach.

Bad idea.

You’re close enough to trace the silver scar through Wonwoo’s brow. A fraction lower, his eyes light with the same fire as when you kissed him the other night. Rocks bit through the thin fabric of your pants, jagged against your knees. But Wonwoo was unaware, tilting his chin up to capture your lips. 

You bore down on him, sighing into the seductive heat of his mouth. Wonwoo groaned with a curl of his hips. It took all your focus to snatch his hands from your waist and pin them above his head but he didn’t seem to mind as you rained a series of wet kisses down the column of his neck. 

He made another desperate sound as you tugged at the water just out of reach, freezing thick cuffs from Wonwoo’s elbow up to his fingertips.

“Gotcha,” you whispered against his throat. 

He slumped into the ground, an indignant huff fanning across your forehead. “Very funny.”

“From where I’m sitting, it is.”

You’re smirk dissolved as he rolled his hips once again. The force sending you up his chest, hands bracketing his shoulders in an effort to maintain balance. To your shame, a sharp gasp squeezed from your lungs at the motion.

“What was that?”

His face – barely an inch away – was lax despite his confinement. It’s enticing. The way he’s spread out, chest displayed, muscles stretched; all of him on display, including the stains on his skin tugging at your conscience. Your hand glided down his chest, catching droplets from the stream to heal the fresher injuries. Those muscles flexed under your gentle touch before relaxing. Wonwoo’s eyes closed with a sigh of relief as cuts knitted back together and bruises faded.

“You’re really bad at this,” you said plainly, shifting focus away from the need to rut down. 

Wonwoo’s eyes widened for a moment, ears reddening before he sputtered. The realization dawned on you like the icy waters of the river. Oh. 

“Not that!” you corrected. “Fighting me. I’d thought you’d be better this time.”

“It’s a full moon,” he argued, eyes closing once again as you mended a scratch along his chin. It wasn’t even bleeding, but the compulsion to touch him was too strong to ignore.

“So? I could fight you with my hands behind my back and still win.”

“Wanna test that theory?”

With a dismissive wave the ice trapping Wonwoo melted before you answered, rising to your feet before you did something stupid. He was healed enough. “I think I’ve done enough damage to your ego.”

He barely reared back his fist for an attack when the same water froze him again. Now, with his arms and legs immobilized, he glared up at you. Predictable.

Without thinking, you pinned his chest down with a muddy foot. You couldn’t help it; something so satisfying as having him at your mercy conjured the reckless parts of your brain. “Yield.”

His eyes followed the line of your leg, up your torso, only pausing on your wet breast bindings for a moment, and then finally met your gaze. “If I don’t?”

“I can leave you here,” you shrugged, only to hide a shiver. “I’m sure you’ll thaw out by noon.”

Perhaps it'd be better to leave him shackled to the ground. You could leave him and get back to the palace before doing anything scandalous. He could still firebend as long as his mouth was uncovered, and after all the noise of the battle none of the wild life would come close before he freed himself. But Wonwoo wasn’t fond of the idea of waiting until morning to leave.

“Fine,” Wonwoo huffed. “I yield.”

The ice melted again, soaking his pants. No sooner did you turn around, Wonwoo sent a lick of flame at your ankle and, in your attempt to dodge, you sprawled next to him with a hard thud.

“You yielded,” you groaned in pain.

“I’m a sore loser.” Wonwoo rolled to his side, the weight of his gaze heavy on your face. One of his hands found the strip of skin between your bindings and your legs, tracing it with maddening pressure. How easy would it be for him to slip that same hand beneath your pants and touch you again. “Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

“I practice a lot.”

“With who? Assassins?.”

One of your eyes opened to glare. “I watched a few of your matches. You’re…predictable.”

“I never saw you at the warehouse before.”

“Yeah well, I didn’t want to be seen.” 

Wonwoo took the opportunity to cover your body with his own, a thigh back between your legs and pressed just right against your center. His mouth found the sensitive spot beneath your jaw as he crumbled your defenses. You could afford to indulge a little bit; some kissing, more of that mind numbing friction from the market. Just to set your nerves at ease, untangle that insufferable knot in the pit of your stomach.

“And why is that?”

Before you can answer, Wonwoo kissed you again but this time you were prepared; surging up to meet him like a tidal wave.

Somehow, the weight of his body like that was even better than when he crowded you against the wall; heavy and satisfying for you to grind against, chasing warm friction. This time he touched without restraint, tugging at your bindings until they fell slack, committing the new swaths of bare skin to memory with his mouth and wandering hands. 

His tongue traced the slope of your breast, the chill in the forest pinching your nipples tight for his teeth to take one between. 

“Oh,” you moaned, fingers tangled in his hair, urging him to give more. Wonwoo offered the sting of a bite, sucking harder when you made the same depraved sound. You felt it everywhere, down to your core where he pressed against you with a kick of his hips. Far better than when you tried touching yourself after he had lit a consuming hunger in your veins. As if Wonwoo knew the spots driving you mad better than you ever would.

No one was around to hear the way you gasped his name as his hand snaked between your legs, the heel of it nothing short of mind numbing as it rocked against your clit.

“Still predictable?”

You leveled your gaze with his, furious at the confidence you found. During the spar you met him blow for blow. This would be no different, just a new stage.

“You’re hard and trying to scandalize the wildlife after I kicked your ass,” you stuttered through the last bit because Wonwoo curled his fingers against a spot you didn’t know existed. “You’re incredibly predictable.”

You touched him just as eagerly; dipping beneath the tight cling of his pants and fisting his cock with false bravado.

He stopped when you thumbed the leaking tip, huffing against your chest with a throaty groan of his own before continuing with renewed energy. Wonwoo pressed himself through your loose grip, back and forth and back and forth with that mesmerizing hardness that was soft like velvet and hotter than any fire he’d attacked you with; each cant in time with the way you rocked against him. Until he followed your lead and dipped his hand beneath your leggings, calloused fingertips sliding timidly as you writhed beneath him.

“Wonwoo, please.” You needed something, anything. He kept his teeth at your breast, sucking and licking while a finger shallowly dipped inside you. 

“Tell me what you want,” he gritted, pulling until you sat back in his lap completely bare from the waist up, the silk of your bindings left on the ground.

I don’t know! I don’t know, tell me what I need, you thought; but you'd rather die than admit inexperience. Instead, you acted on instinct. Each rock of your hips proved it was the right path, the tight press of his fingers better with the new angle as you clung to him. You sank further into it, Wonwoo encouraging you to take whatever you wanted.

It was too much and not enough. Your chest thrusted forward with every motion, and the hand cupping you gently turned into rough pinches hard enough to sting; his mouth the same. 

Maybe you could sneak out of the palace every night for this, or sneak Wonwoo in. It wouldn’t be too difficult. He could give this to whenever you needed, no one the wiser as you bared yourself between the sheets for his eyes only. 

“So fucking wet.” He punctuated the observation with another finger, palm rocking into that explosive place again and again. You’re knocked off-balance. Knees spread wide to accommodate and Wonwoo took full advantage to brush your hand away from his cock and pull you further into his lap, both hands beneath your bottoms; perfect to roll against as he leaned back to watch. “Don’t seem disappointed now.”

You swam through the beginning of something, Wonwoo’s voice grounding you back down to reality. The goading you could do without but it’s a small price to pay. As long as he maintained the wet slide of your core, he could say whatever he wanted. Your mouth dropped open, head tilted back as your thighs quaked. 

“I—” you gasped. All at once the world snapped into a million stars.

He kissed you; your chest, your throat, cheeks, lips. Anywhere Wonwoo could reach was stained with the warmth of his mouth as you shuddered with teary eyes, raking pink lines into his chest. He swallowed each wrecked sound until you kissed back with shaky breath.

 “You’re dirty.”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed.

His humor exploded against your cheek, laughter tickling your ears as he dragged a finger across your collarbone. He meant the mud caked to your back, knotted in your hair. But you couldn't focus on the ridiculousness. Wonwoo was still hard, the dewy tip of his cock peeking from the band of his pants. The sight made your chest ache.

The laughter turned to a stunted moan as you gripped him once more. You shifted down his thighs to make more room, but Wonwoo kept you close, nipping at your jaw with each stroke. It’s unlike anything you felt before, the power, the thrill of undoing him, watching as he crumbled into a panting mess beneath your fingers. You pulled his hair and licked behind his teeth.

“O-oh. Fuck,” he groaned. His head fell back, the smooth skin of his throat enticing as he swallowed another sound; the pale glow of early dawn sun providing a startling contrast.

Panic flooded your veins. You looked up and found the moon sunk deeper to make room for the new day.

You were late.

“Shit. Shit. I have to go.” You scrambled away, snagging your bindings. They were disgusting but you had no time to wash them. At least the shirt you snuck out in would hide the wreckage. You tied them tight, whipping around to find the rest of your clothes.

“What?” Wonwoo blinked, as if he was waking from a dream; eyes glazed, cock dewy and pink in his lap as he stared up at you. 

You flushed, tempted to sit back down and pretend it was a mistake. The voice whispering in the back of your head wanted nothing to do with responsibilities and obligations. You wanted this. To be reckless and enjoy what Wonwoo offered, and feel the way he responded when offered the same.

But the pale morning light brought reality with it. 

“I’m sorry. I—” There was nothing else you could say. No explanation that wouldn’t leave you both with heartache. So you kissed him softly, long and slow, until Wonwoo’s fingers tickled back across your hips and you remembered you had to go. Now. “I’m sorry.”

And then you sprinted home without looking back.

After the beating Wonwoo received into the early hours of this morning, perhaps he should feel the same bruise to his ego like the weeks before when his face resembled the wrong end of a moose dragon. Even with the best healing, his body ached for days after. A constant reminder not only had he lost, but done so in front of one of the biggest crowds the warehouse ever had. 

But even though he lost again last night, he’d won enough to walk on clouds like an airbender.

You were distracting while in your element but when you came? He couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. Helpless to the vision of your chin tipped back, spine arched as you moaned his name. Never mind he had to finish himself after you fled, returning to the barracks to hide in the bathroom like a teenager. The memory was enough, it only took a few strokes before he found his own satisfaction; though he preferred to find it with you next time.

Not even the weary day ahead dampened his glow despite the lack of sleep. The Queen rarely visited, and the princess never. But today they planned to, and that meant everything must be in perfect order which included new uniforms starched until Wonwoo could hardly bend.

The courtyard was packed with guards of all levels, cadeats to captains. They spent the morning sparring and working through basic forms under the watchful eye of Commander Aiko, Wonwoo overseeing the training ring. Under the high noon sun, the firebenders maintained a clear advantage over anyone else but Wonwoo conserved his energy for later. Once the Queen arrived, Commander Aiko would no doubt drag him out for a demonstration for the old man to tout as his own accomplishment.

It’d be good to remind the others of his skill, how he earned his rank through nothing but sheer determination. Most of the teasing had faded in the past month but it never hurt to make sure. Just because he lost to you didn’t mean he couldn’t defeat any of them. It wasn’t a fluke, you were just better. Wonwoo admired your skill but next time he’d win.

But he banished those thoughts for now. He’d found you twice – by chance but he still found you – a third time felt inevitable. There was too much unfinished business for him to believe otherwise. When he did have you again, he wouldn’t let you slip away so easily.

It wasn’t until later afternoon that the royal procession arrived, palace guards donned in stark black uniform circling a pair of women like hawk vultures. He couldn’t see the princess’s face from where he stood, only the stretch of silk across her shoulders as Commander Aiko gestured animatedly.

Rumor had it the princess was the most beautiful woman in the kingdom, with soft manners. kind eyes, and a gentle soul. Not that anyone saw her outside the palace. The queen kept her under lock and key, rightfully so as her only heir. But tales of her beauty and warmth flowed freely. She was the kind of princess men went to war for. Sacrificed their lives for. 

And as such, most of the men had put extra time into preparing this morning; shaving and hogging mirrors in the bathroom to fix their hair. As if the princess would look upon one of them and find interest in a man with no title, no money, and no influence. The stuff of legends that Wonwoo had no interest in.

Wonwoo supervised the officers as they attempted to throttle one another. Apparently rumors of the princess’ presence inspired their best; it was almost pathetic if he wasn’t impressed by their creativity. 

Rone yanked the ground from beneath Pono’s feet, rushing the smaller man forward into his fist covered in rock. The force would’ve knocked Pono unconscious if he hadn’t used the momentum to leap over Rone with a gust of air and slam his knee into his chest. Rone doubled over, gasping for breath.

“That’s enough,” Wonwoo called. “Ura. Tou. You’re up. Try not killing each other this time.”

Ura shook her head. “You light a guy on fire once.”

“Six!” Tou screamed. “You’ve lit me on fire SIX TIMES!”

“Make it seven,” someone on the sidelines cheered.

Ura lunged at To with a fire whip but Wonwoo was distracted with a call of his name before he could see Tou redirect it.

“Captain Jeon, I’d like to introduce you to her Royal Majesty and her granddaughter, Princess Y/N”

Wonwoo, remembering his manners to never turn his back to the royal family, whipped around fast enough everything blurred as he rushed to bow. “Your Majesty, Your Highness.”

“Commander Aiko has told me much about you, Captain Jeon,” a voice greeted him, definitely the Queen from the rich timbre. “I hope you’ll honor us with a demonstration of your skills later.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. It’d be an honor.” 

Wonwoo rose and finally got his first glance of the princess. She was even more beautiful than the stories claimed, face glowing in the sun, not a hair out of place. A dress of rich fabric, embroidered with pearls in a wave motif at the collar, hugged her figure but didn’t betray the power beneath.

While he couldn’t vouch for manners, your eyes were anything but kind. If looks could kill, Wonwoo was a dead man walking. His veins froze. Absolutely not. This was not happening. It was a dream, a sick and twisted dream where he made out with royalty in a field without knowing. 

It didn’t make sense. 

You bowed, eyes averted to your shoes with a greeting in return. The wild energy that possessed you in the field was nowhere to be found; extinguished by faux meekness and rigid posture.

“Jeon,” Aiko started, preening like a peacock. “Give Princess Y/N a tour of the grounds. She’s never seen men in action.”

Wonwoo managed to silence his snort of disbelief but couldn’t help the quip dripping from his tongue. “Oh, I doub—”

“A tour would be wonderful, Captain Jeon,” you cut him off. Your teeth gleamed like knives, gaze pointed. The wildness was still there and a bolt of fear flashed through him.

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Wonwoo spun on his heel, leading you to the far side of the training ring while Ura and Tou lulled into a standoff, circling one another warily. He couldn’t help but feel you and him were doing the same.

Embarrassment, betrayal. It’s why you hadn’t told him your name, he realized. Not at the warehouse, not at the market, not even in the field. You played him for a fool again and again. And he let you

Tou knocked Ura’s left leg out from beneath her with a blazing kick. She fell to her knees but Ura rolled just in time to avoid Tou’s fist, dragging an arch of flame up with her heel and forcing Tou back.

You hovered beside Wonwoo, silently watching the fight. He refused to look at you because if he did then no doubt someone would notice his anger. And why would he be angry at the princess? Wonwoo never officially met you, this is technically the first time he’s ever seen you let alone spoken to you. 

From opposite sides of the training ring, Ura and Tou’s both thrust their palms forward to summon fire streams thick enough the air around them shimmers as they collide; blue versus red. The crowd of guards watching stepped back, tugging at their collars. Wonwoo was tempted to step forward and join the fight, work out some of the restless annoyance burning beneath his skin.

“Impressive,” you commented, features tinged golden by the flame. 

Wonwoo would have agreed if Ura’s ankle hadn’t quivered. Tou, forever soft for the willowy firebender, refused to take advantage of her weakness. He’d throw a hundred matches before using Ura’s injury against her. And Ura knew it.

“Is that all you’ve got to say?”

“You don’t exactly seem interested in any sort of conversation,” you shot back.

You were right. Wonwoo didn’t want to talk anymore than he wanted to pull his own teeth out. What he wanted was to wake from this horrible dream, for Hoshi to come out of the woodwork and reveal this was all an elaborate prank. 

Wonwoo winced as Ura grappled Tou down to his knees, slinging her arm around his neck and pulling him into a chokehold. Then he turned to look at you. “Pardon me for coming to terms with the fact I got into a fist fight with royalty. It’s a first for me.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“I didn’t plan this.” You have the sense to look ashamed, eyes on the ground Tou wiggled out of Ura’s grip and scrambled to his feet.

“Do you know how much trouble I could get in if anyone found out I tried to fight you? I could be executed.”

“That wasn’t—” You stopped abruptly, chest expanding with a deep breath. “You said you were from the Middle District. How was I supposed to know you were a part of the Crown’s Guard?”

“I am from the Middle District.”

Your fingers bunched in the pleats of your robes. “But most of the guards are from the Noble's Quarter.”

“I’m not like most men. But I don’t expect you to understand what it means to earn something.”

“I think I earn my victories quite well,” you spat. “Perhaps you would like another demonstration, Captain Jeon.”

In the ring, Ura and Tou came to a standstill. The inky braid coiled on Ura’s head had long unraveled, tangled and lopsided as it hung down her back. Tou’s new jacket was signed at the collar, cuffs smoldering as well. They looked like they were having the time of their lives.

Wonwoo waited a long moment before speaking again. It would do no good to insult you. Already the darkest corners of his anger were brightening. “That was…unkind of me. I apologize.”

“Your insults are as deficient as your bending,” you smiled and strode away leaving Wonwoo to follow like a scorned puppy.

Ura and Tou waned but continued. 

“Why don’t either of them give up?” you asked. 

“Ura agreed to marry Tou if he could beat her in a fight.”

“I thought relations between guards were forbidden.”

“They are. It’s why Tou refuses to take advantage of her weak ankle.”

“Then why would she…”

“If you’re asking me to explain their relationship then I have no answers,” Wonwoo replied as Tou finally yielded and another pair of troops took their place. “You’re lucky most of the guards don’t go to those matches or we’d both be in serious trouble.”

“If none of the other guards go, why were you there?”

“I’ve been doing it for years. They pay well and I needed money.”

Wonwoo leaves the rest unsaid. What other reason did a Middle District kid have to fight other than money? He took his beatings in the public arena for years because coin was coin. He never planned to become skilled enough to start winning. But when he did, after years of blood, sweat, and tears, he was good enough for the Crown Guard to take notice and Seungcheol to bring him into the fold before retiring. Now, Wonwoo had a free place to sleep, albeit it was barely large enough for him and the four other men he shared it with, all on bunk beds. But it was far better than the fifty man barrack he started in years ago. There were free meals and hot showers and his patrols through the Noble's Quarter rarely were more than counting the number of steps through his route before he ended up back where he started. 

The fighting kept his skills sharp in the way training couldn’t. Commander Aiko didn’t like his cheap shots or the scrappiness Wonwoo learned in the ring. They were ‘undignified’ for one of the Royal Army, especially the Crown’s Guard. But more often than not, they were the edge he had on the other officers.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I never intended to put you in such a difficult position. I just—”

“You just what, Your Highness?”

“Don’t call me that,” you spat before softening. “How am I supposed to be Queen if I’m not allowed to actually see my kingdom?”

Seeing your kingdom felt like an odd way to describe what you and Wonwoo had been doing away from wandering eyes but he didn’t dwell.

“Probably not by lying.”

“Or by freezing men to walls.”

The attempt at humor softened and soured Wonwoo’s mood all at once. Rationally, he knew he should be angry. Furious even. But it was not that simple. If he was in your shoes, what would he have done? Probably far worse than sneaking out for a night on the town. Even too many hours at the barracks had a way of making him crave for the anonymity of the city streets he grew up on. 

Wonwoo was not angry, annoyed maybe. Even as you stood, wrapped in the finest silks he’d ever seen with enough sapphires and pearls pinned in your hair for him to buy a village, it was pity he felt rather than disdain. To be forced to hide the wildness you possessed behind pretense and perform exactly what was expected of you. Could he blame you for wanting a break from it all?

Judging by the hopeful look on your face you wanted to leave the entire ordeal in the past, same as him.

“That might help you on the throne.”

You smiled and looked back at the two men sparring in the ring who were fighting with swords, the smaller one locking their hilts together and twisting until the larger man was forced to release his weapon. 

He’d be infatuated with you but that was all it was; all it could be. A funny story to remember years and years from now, when his children’s children were grown. They’d call him crazy for rambling about how he once knew the princess.

He couldn’t help his next question. “And everything else? Are you sorry for that too?”

A blight of confusion twisted your face before your eyes bulged. Years of etiquette schooled your features swiftly but Wonwoo felt pleased to see you off kilter as he felt, however brief. You should be just as uncomfortable with the looming consequences of what happened in that field as he was.

The satisfaction didn’t last long.

You turned to face him head on, leveling him with a heavy gaze. “Are you?”

Wonwoo choked.

It seems the fire from before was not completely snuffed out under pounds of finery. 

“I think I’ve seen enough of the grounds. It's quite warm and I feel myself growing faint.”

When he finally regained his senses, Wonwoo followed several steps behind, face tinged red. Hopefully everyone mistook it as a result of a day in the sun rather than a battle of wits. 

Commander Aiko and the Queen ceased their conversation as you approached them..

“What do you think of our troops, Your Highness?” Aiko asked.

“They are very impressive, Commander,” you smiled.

By some great miracle, Aiko stood fifteen feet taller with your compliments. It itches at the back of Wonwoo’s brain that a compliment could slip off your tongue so easily towards others but not towards him. 

“I’m pleased my men are up to your standards. Captain Jeon is one of my best, you’ll be completely safe in his care during next month's festivities.”

“Pardon?” you and Wonwoo asked at the same time.

Aiko frowned. “Her Majesty insisted on additional protection due to the increased presence at the palace. Surely, she informed you?”

“She did,” you nodded. “But wouldn’t Captain Jeon’s expertise be more valuable elsewhere? It’d be a shame for his skills to be wasted guarding me when we will be surrounded by allies.”

“In the event something might go wrong, is it not better to have someone as trained as he is to protect you?”

Wonwoo wanted to argue that you were more than capable of protecting yourself. But clearly your bending talents were a secret, at least to Commander Aiko. Perhaps that was for the best; the element of surprise was a powerful tool, one you wielded well. A glance at your blanked expression all but confirmed it.

Aiko continued, “You are next in line, therefore your safety is second only to the Queen herself. Captain Jeon would be honored to serve you.”

The old man leveled Wonwoo with an expectant look, giving him two options: reject the position and directly insult the crown and his commanding officer, inadvertently signing his own death warrant. Or accept, play minder for however long was required. Then he could return to his life and pretend none of this ever happened.

“It would be my honor to serve the royal family and her Highness.”

Wonwoo convinced himself that the disappointment in your eyes was wishful thinking. 

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[ylangelegy]

After MAMA awards I'M VERY PROUD OF MY BOYS and seeing Woozi crying, nooooo my mannnnn

So can I request Woozi or anyone after awards, all members celebrating with their partners hehe LOVE YOUUU!!!

PLEASE PLEASE 🛐🛐

🍑 i will really live the rest of my life repaying you.

you don't see seungcheol until the next day. such is the life of the general leader, it seems— the never-ending heralding, the non-stop worrying. he deals with his boys, first, then the fans, then the staff. but once that's all done, he's at your front door, collapsing into your arms before he's even past through the entryway. it doesn't matter how many awards its been. he is still overwhelmed by it every single time, and you are a soft place to land. he comes home to you and whispers the sweetest nothings in your hair. i'm so proud of them and they did so well and they're so happy. as he holds you tight— like you're the only thing keeping him upright— it's your turn to let him hear those words. i'm so proud of you. you did so well. you get to be happy, too.

the jeonghan on the other end of the video call has been quiet for the most part of the past half-hour. you'd be more worried if you hadn't already predicted where his solemness was coming from. "hannie? still with me?" you prompt gently, and he finally tears his gaze away from the ceiling to look back at you. "yeah. yeah, i'm with you," he answers. a beat. there are some things you no longer have to say out loud. how he wishes he was there. how he misses them and tries not to let it show. instead, you give him a reminder that's quiet and firm. "this is yours, too," you say. this award. this moment. these boys. all still his. there's a ghost of a smile on his face as he mumbles, "right. of course. how could i forget."

joshua likes keeping lists. a running one he has with you is that of gratitude, where the two of you try to end each day with acknowledgements of what you're grateful for. you're expecting a whole essay for him after tonight. he surprises you by keeping it short, sweet, and straight to the point. in no particular order, he types out into your shared note. music, the boys, you. hours later, he adds a footnote like it'd occurred to him as an afterthought: i'm always grateful for those three, but especially so today.

"look at them!" jun shrieks. his video call pixelates, either from spotty connection or his sudden burst of enthusiasm. you have half a mind to warn him that he may get a noise complaint again, but this time it'd be completely warranted. he's positively vibrating with excitement, his eyes glued to the livestream of his twelve brothers ascending the stage for their second award of the night. "look at them," he repeats, and this time his voice is more reverent than anything. you could comply, could do as he's asking, but your eyes are trained elsewhere. and look at you, too, you want to say. look at you and all that you've done to get this far.

even though it's been an exceptionally long day, soonyoung comes home brimming with adrenaline. he does dance routines in your living room. he jogs around your block until you beg him to just come back. he sings in the shower before collapsing onto the bed next to you, where he suddenly becomes boneless. the glow of pride stays even as the exhaustion hits. he pulls you against him and cuddles right into you. to soonyoung, this is as good as any trophy: the peace that comes with falling asleep next to you.

wonwoo has no destination in mind. he has a car with a full tank, and a playlist of all his favorite songs, and you in the passenger seat. that's more than enough. you pass through tunnels with warm lighting; expressways where he keeps the windows down so the wind will whip at your hair. occasionally, you'll stop to grab a snack or take a photo of something interesting on the side of the street. after hours of just going in circles, he'll ask, "should we keep driving?" even though he knows you'd never deny him this. this. his little celebration in the form of getting 'lost' with you.

nobody hears from jihoon for the next couple of days. the managers are worried, but the boys all just shake their heads and say that he's in good hands. which means: he's wherever you are. the two of you don't talk about his speech, about his public breakdown, because both things make him want to hide forever. instead— he sleeps in. he watches movies from months ago that he promised he'd get to. the two of you go on walks at night, and have breakfast at lunch time. the vicious cycle will soon have to begin again. jihoon knows that. but for a few, precious moments, his heart is not a heavy burden because it's safe and sound in your capable hands.

seokmin takes you on the textbook definition of your perfect date. a shopping spree? here's his black card. an amusement park? he'll rent out lotte world for the day, if he must. you're understandably baffled. he's the one who just won big, and yet you're the one being treated like royalty. try to resist and he'll only push back on you. seokmin already spoils you enough as is, but this is just a little more over-the-top than the day-to-day stuff. at the end of it all, his rationale is as sweet as it gets. "you keep me going," he tells you. "and so you deserve just as much credit as i do."

mingyu has always liked to celebrate with a meal. you'd expected his usual fare of some swanky restaurant or high-end café, but, this time, he asks for only free reign of your kitchen. he props his phone up against the salt shaker and pulls up a youtube video before flashing you his best 'just-trust-me' grin. your trust is not misplaced; the two of you do manage to bake the celebratory cake, though whether it's any good is an entirely different story. the end result doesn't matter as much as the process. mingyu is happiest about the flour marks on your cheeks, about the kisses he steals while you whisk eggs. it's not a birthday cake, but you light up a candle for him anyway. just for the hell of it. "make a wish," you tease. he's looking straight at you as he blows at the flame.

minghao asks for a beach day. the two of you set out for the nearest one. maybe the sand is a bit rocky; the shore, lacking in shells. he doesn't care. he only seeks out the sun beating on his back, the saltwater clinging to his skin, the first punch of air after emerging from the water. as the stolen weekend winds to a close, the two of you sit at the point where the water lap at your toes. neither of you have to speak. here, minghao lets the tide wash away the ache of homesickness. here, minghao redefines 'home' as a future with the boys of his youth, with the music that is as constant as the waves— and with you, of course.

the ferry ride to jeju is about four or so hours long, but seungkwan doesn't mind. there's just something so right about getting on the first vessel that will take him back where he has family waiting with a homecooked meal and a play-by-play of the award show. besides, the ferry means having four hours of uninterrupted leisure time with you. the pair of you literally have nowhere else to be except this boat and this point in time, which seungkwan is a little guilty to be so happy about. he's a glutton for your time and attention, and these ferry rides— these trips home— remind him just how much he likes taking the scenic route.

vernon treats it almost like it's just another day. almost. you're thrown off by his initial nonchalance, by the lack of utter fanfare in the way he asks you out to lunch and the two of you barely discuss the recent accolades. when you prompt him about it, you realize it's not because of arrogance or ignorance. "we're just doing what we always do," he says with an expression of mild confusion. winning?, you almost inquire half-jokingly, but that's only part of it. he elaborates, "we were just ourselves, y'know?"

when chan suggests a rage room, you're understandably confused. the wrath-based activity doesn't seem like the most optimal celebration, but you're not about to cramp his style. the two of you queue the angriest songs known to man before smashing some defunct appliances and throwing empty bottles against a wall. once your time is up, chan looks at you with that familiar spark of fire in his eyes. that dedication you fell in love with, that passion that has always burned bright. "again?" he asks, and you know it's not just the rage room that he's asking for.

[tenebraevesper]

Sonic X Shadow Takeover Analyzer (Part 1)

I was so excited to hear this Takeover since it is only Sonic and Shadow talking to each other and answering question. It is one of those times where you get to see their dynamic without anyone else's input.

Since I feel like I could write an essay about these two, I decided to instead put all my thoughts into bullet points, this being Part 1 of my list:

First of, congratulations to Shadow for hosting the Takeover! Shadow sounds so proud of having managed to take over the channel and having gotten a whole year for himself. At least until Sonic reminds him that he is also there.

Why does Sonic's mind immediately jump to ''marriage'' when he hears the word proposal? Is he still bummed over the fact that he didn't think of proposing to Shadow?

I never thought I'd live the day to hear Shadow saying ''Sonic x Shadow''. I know it's referring to the game, but shippers are going to have a field day with this.

Shadow finally got his #AskShadow. Sonic is not happy to lose to him.

The best way for Sonic to annoy Shadow is to just be around him, with Sonic adding how he'd slowly take his time when they're racing and drag it out, much to Shadow's chagrin. God, I love how Sonic trolls Shadow.

Sonic doesn't know about Doom Wing... and he forgot about Black Doom! X3

I love how Sonic's idea in a body swap scenario with Shadow is to brag about himself, while Shadow's idea is to tell everyone how Sonic is stupid... and more importantly, telling that to Amy. Sonic sounds really flustered, and while I get the Sonamy joke... I'm pretty sure they threw that in because they knew the Sonadow fans will go wild over this.

There you have it folks! Shadow doesn't hate Tails, but he will beat him up if he stands in his way. I also love how Sonic immediately jumps to Tails' defense - big brother gotta protect his little brother.

Sonic loves the journey, while Shadow points out how you need to learn from the experience to not make the same mistakes. I love their philosophy, since they mesh so well together... and it also feels as if Sonic wants to go on a journey with Shadow.

I love the scenario of Sonic and Shadow babysitting Cream and them arguing over their methods (Sonic, the twelve scoop ice-cream cone scenario is really specific).

Did Sonic just invite Shadow on an ice-cream date? As Cream's babysitters, but nonetheless, it is a date. And he also knows what Shadow's favorite ice-cream flavour is.

Okay, start the counter for how many times Sonic attempts to convince Shadow to go out with him.

I love how Sonic knows how to challenge Shadow and Shadow falls for it despite his reservations, even if it's something silly like a thumb war. Sonic knows exactly how to get under his skin and Shadow just goes along with it, much to his chagrin. X3

Sonic, Shadow and Silver have a Big Brother, Little Brother relationship! Love how they're ready to help him at any point of time and how Shadow respects Silver.

So, Sonic forgot about Elise? To note Sonic 06 technically did happen, but the universe did get reset.

I adore that Shadow acts like he doesn't care whether he's Sonic's biggest rival, but the moment Sonic starts trolling him by placing him between Zavok and... Dodon Pa? (What?) - Shadow gets irritated. It's obvious that Shadow wants the recognition of being Sonic's main rival, and knows Sonic is messing with him.

Did Shadow just laugh at the Joe Mama joke?

Shadow correcting Sonic's Macarena bit is hilarious, especially since neither of them know the lyrics. Also, obligatory Macarena singing is obligatory.

I love how Shadow shares Omega's ''enthusiasm for blowing things up''. We saw him enjoying himself blowing up G.U.N. property alongside Omega and Rouge in Sonic X Shadow Generations: Dark Beginnings, so I'm not surprised. Sonic then immediately figures he also needs to hang out more with Omega,... perhaps in hopes to get closer to Shadow?

Shadow pointing out how Tails is the reason why Sonic's always in trouble is not wrong. These two can be a disaster when together as siblings tend to do.

''Shadow, have you ever given Sonic a present on his birthday?'' ''No, my presence is more than enough.'' There are several things to discuss here:

Shadow is willing to buy Amy a present in The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog, but couldn't bother get anything for Sonic, which is hilarious. Especially since we know that it was Rouge who convinced him to go to Sonic's birthday by promising him a rocket.

Shadow arrived at Sonic's birthday just after he was traumatized by watching Gerald and Maria return to their own timeline, knowing this was the last time he saw them again. I doubt getting a present for Sonic was on his mind at that time.

Shadow claims his presence is enough of a birthday present. I interpret this as him claiming that he is Sonic's birthday present and you can't stop me.

Sonic teasing Shadow about the Hot Honey concert is so hilarious... until Shadow reveals they're going on another concert, and Sonic's mood drops. Honestly, Sonic, if you want to go to a concert with Shadow, ask him out!

Sonic being so intrigued and even saying that he's jealous over Shadow smiling in Big's presence, and then suggests a fishing trip with all three of them. Not only does he want to see Shadow smile again, but he is still persistent about getting his date.

Shadow chooses to save Sonic from danger because he knows Sonic will get himself into trouble, so he needs keep an eye on him. This is completely out of Sonic Prime and I'm loving it! It really shows that Shadow cares about Sonic.

Sonic isn't too enthusiastic about going with Amy on shopping trips. Shadow, on the other hand, just buys what he needs, which is understandable... Sonic then immediately uses this as an opportunity to invite him on a shopping date, even saying how he'll make it fun. Shadow immediately accepts the moment Sonic turns it into a race.

They mention the matching outfits (possible reference to Sonic Speed Simulator)! Sonic believes they have similar tastes, Shadow calls it a coincidence and insists it means nothing, which Sonic doesn't buy at all.

''But if we do ever go to a party, you know I'm picking the outfits.'' Sonic is still desperately trying to get that date and Shadow is not budging. These two sound like a married couple.

I love how Shadow respects Sonic enough to refuse beating him in a swimming competition, even if he reasons that it's because Sonic would drown, so he wouldn't be able to see the look of the defeat on his face.

Sonic immediately mentions a ''plummeting to Earth contest'', which is just... woah! I didn't expect him to go that far. Shadow gets an UNO Reverse on him by teasing him about needing floaties. Go Shadow!

Sonic keeps his chest fur short to stay aerodynamic and run laps around Shadow. You guys do know that hedgehogs circle around each other in order to court?

Frontiers!Sonic voice is back! Shadow sounds baffled. X3

So, Classic Sonic is just chilling in the room. Shadow likes him because he's silent, though. I suppose Modern Sonic is taking notes... or not.

#Sonic X Shadow Takeover Analyzer (Part 2)

#Sonic Cyber Revolution (Masterlist)

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

okay disjointed thoughts about the wicked movie 1 day after watching it lets go

-first of all, my movie theater put speakers outside and was just blasting the entire soundtrack on repeat. we could hear it down the street as we were driving up. that's just simply insane

-the opening establishing shots of the land were great but honestly. the very clearly animated dorothy and gang really annoyed me lmfao like I'm sorry it cannot have possibly been too hard to get a few extras to stand in front of a screen for point 5 seconds lol. it was so fast that I Know I'm being dramatic about it but they looked more cartoon than the flying monkey's did

-baby elphie and baby nessa are the cutest things I've ever seen in my life...

-I kinda...like the more human/animal hybrids that the stage show and the original movie had. sorry. like I Get they were only like that bc you can't make a real life goat sing and dance but they're just more interesting to look at than normal-looking animals who happen to talk!

-jeff goldblum's face being hidden every time he had a dance number...I have a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't really dancing lmfao

-whoever decided to bleach ariana's eyebrows deserves jail time

-when jonathan bailey first showed up on screen my mother leaned over to me and whispered 'he's HANDSOME...'

-when cynthia finished the 'wizard and I' I had to actually stop myself from applauding. it felt so weird and rude for there to be dead silence after that performance my GOD.

-also omg the part where she's singing about the wizard de-green-ifying her and the colors in the suncatchers were canceling out the green so she looked normal....inspired!

-madame morrible had these HUGE crystal ball looking rings and I just want them so much lmao

-glinda's friends were really funny the bit were she was like 'I need to lie down' and they immediately picked her up like a plank of wood and carried her off while the one was screaming 'WE NEED A PASTRY!!! IT'S AN EMERGENCY WE NEED A PASTRY!!!' had me cackling

-I wish there was more time between them moving in and 'what is this feeling' starting? like I wanted more time to see them bickering and then also more time seeing them getting along after the ball??

-'dancing through life' was BEAUTIFUL however two complaints 1) why would they cut the line 'what's the most swankified place around?' I Quote That Often and 2) at the end when glinda and elphie dance together like...it's beautiful and everything but from what I remember after their solo moment fieryo joins them?? and they have a cute three way dance moment??? and I'm very pro "they're all in love with each other" so I missed that lol

-also just in general would of liked to see more of fieryo with the girls! like it felt like ball->lion cub->emerald city, in the course of a couple days, and idk I just feel like they could have slowed it down a bit?? especially since they broke it into two movies?? like I don't think that Actually all happened in the span of a week, but they didn't do a good enough job establishing how much time was passing so it Felt like it. which is dumb bc then it just doesn't seem realistic that elphie and glinda are THAT attached to each other by defying gravity like it feels like not enough time has passed for them to really know each other

-boq felt very mild tbh I know ethan can be more unhinged than that

-would've liked to see glinda in magic class!!

-I was a little underwhelmed by elphaba's costumes? like there were clearly patterns on the material but it was all the same shade of black so you couldn't make anything out. it felt a bit flat. and I love the idea behind the freckles I agree with freckles I am pro freckles HOWEVER her's looked very obviously drawn on. like, I have seen way more realistic fake freckles before. so that was a bit annoying

-other than the lunchmeat dress glinda's costumes were good! especially loved the flower shaped one she wore to the ball

-the whole trying to escape in the hot air ballon scene was cool as hell but as the flaming remains of it fell to the ground I couldn't help but be like wow...she really just killed all those guards huh!

-also lmfao the bit in the woods with the lion club and fieryo has like a scratch on his temple. genuinely thought to myself 'is that his lobotomy scar' lmfao

-still trying to get over the part in dancing through life where people were dancing on the spinning gears in the clock tower...bitch

-the flying monkeys were correctly horrifying

-when I saw the broomstick I was like 'won't that be really uncomfortable between your legs' but then she just held it next to her like they do in the stage show and I was like....okay I guess you win that one? lmfao like I don't mind it for when she's hovering but when they had her like supersonic zooming on the broom it was weird that she wasn't actually riding it

-overall I just don't understand how it's an adaptation of act 1 but it's the length of the entire stage show?? lmao like I wish they took advantage of the split and added so much more but really really it was still just such a solid great movie. 5 stars. I can't keep talking about it right now I'm gonna start screaming.

[a-fatal-word]

I saw the Theatre Du Châtelet production of Les Miserables, and here's a rundown wyth my thoughts:

In the Prologue, the first set of prisoners are on a boat, then a second group is brought in to help move it. I loved this direction, as we see the physical feats they are forced to do. Valjean is brought on separately to these groups. Guards also beat the men, conveying the aggression of this environment which impacts Valjean’s character.

Part of the set is a ramp up stage left, which gets used a lot. During the Runaway Cart scene, we actually see the cart go down the hill and fall on Fauchelevent and the actor really milks it, it's brilliant. The set has these two huge curved pieces, which are used to create multiple settings, plus box sets which helps separate different locations.

Claire Perot is a perfect Fantine, we understand her immediately. She is watched by all the men in the factory, which she's aware of but hasn't grown hardened as a protection. She's so vulnerable and clearly uncomfortable with the attention. I really enjoyed the 'J'avais Reve' ('I Dreamed a Dream') lyrics, and Perot's delivery of the line about Cosette being close to dying was PERFECTLY delivered. She stopped to take the moment, and it was the best I've ever seen it done. My favourite Fantine, maybe even including the film adaptations I've seen.

The pimp comes on with Bamatabois and has the lines with the sex worker that in the English version says 'only joking, deary knows her place'. When Javert arrests Fantine, the other sex workers start towards her but stop, clearly on her side but unable to stand up to Javert. This asserts the dynamic between these men, who always have more power in the situation, and the powerless women.

Champmathieu and two guards walk in from of Valjean during 'Le Proces' ('Who Am I'), so he sees whose life his decision will impact. It's a shame the actors look nothing alike, I feel like they could've given the actor portraying Champmathieu a beard 😂

I preferred the 'Une Poupee Dans la Vitrine' lyrics to 'Castle on a Cloud' lyrics, they're so much more specific to her experience as she dreams of playing with the doll Catherine. love that she sings about Catherine. I wish that the Catherine that Valjean gives her was bigger, though, it more resembles the size of a doll you would buy today instead of the large doll of the novel. Her broom is literally twice her size though, it's a perfect staying to reflect the famous artwork of Cosette sweeping.

The Sergeant of Waterloo Inn is a box set which covers half the width of the stage so you can see the snow outside behind this set piece, which really makes it seem that the inn is bursting with people. This really highlights how far the Thenardiers fall. We see Cosette and Valjean meet in the space away from the set, which is cold and isolated.

These Thenardiers feel genuinely dangerous; they're funny but there's less playing up to the audience. They dress similarly to the rest of the cast, but there's always something out of place. For example, in Maitre Thenardier (Master of the House), Thenardier's outfit is identical to an ensemble member's, but then his hair is unusually styled compared to the rest of the casts'. During the wedding, everyone wears black and white (white dresses and black suits), whilst the Thenardiers arrive in black and white striped outfits. It's like they try to fit in, but they're always off. I also enjoyed that the Patron Minette are in Maitre Thenardier, backing up Thenardier as he over charges someone (his wife has a go at him in a nice touch of ensemble work). It's like they're mates who then went into crime together. The 'Colette' line also remains.

During the confrontation, which happens whilst the nuns are present, Javert whacks out a giant gun which he points at the nuns, after that the nuns throw a bucket at him. When I say I DIED.

This Grantaire isn't the Grantaire we know, he's way too optimistic and put together. When he first started singing, I thought he might be Prouvaire or Courfeyrac and they'd given one of those characters those lines! It made me think that having Courfeyrac make fun of Marius would be so much fun, they'd get to have a bit more of a relationship there, and Courfeyrac could keep his snarkiness from the novel. But I still enjoyed his performance. This Grantaire still makes fun of Marius in jest, but he is as passionate as Enjolras and can easily jump into action mode. Their dynamic slightly resembles Achilles and Patroclus' in Madeline Miller's novel, in that Enjolras and Achilles are focused and charismatic, whereas this Grantaire, like Patroclus, jumps in to help the wounded. His protection of Gavroche is there, and Gavroche sings his final lines to Grantaire, before falling into his arms dead (Gavroche throws the bag of ammunition over before stumbling back to their side of the barricade with his hand clutching his stomach, resembling Eponine's demise).

The costumes for everyone are stunning. Fantine's deshevelled look is gorgeous and Javert has an incredible black leather coat. Enjolras wears a gorgeous slightly orange toned red coat, then a red striped waistcoat at the barricade, whilst Grantaire is in a green suit, with a top hat in the early Musain scenes.

In 'Bonjour Paris' ('Look Down - Paris') we see a group of middle class men walking to the front of the stage, surrounded by the poor they appear disgusted by, whom we are encouraged to judge.

Minor characters portrayed by the ensemble are given chances to shine, and this production really feels like it is presenting a society, as the novel does. A father and daughter appear in Paris, and this father then joins the revolution. He kisses his wife goodbye as she leaves the barricade, and it's heartbreaking when we see his corpse when they are defeated. We also see a member of the ensemble listen in to Javert's confession to Valjean when he has suspicions that he's an ex-convict. This moment especially evokes the small town attitude of Montreuil-sur-Mer in the novel.

Stanley Kassa's Enjolras is one of the best I've ever seen. He's commanding, serious, and clearly empathetic; having told Courfeyrac to keep watch whilst Valjean sings 'Comme un Homme' ('Bring Him Home'), he also keeps watch, and a couple of times looks back to watch over his sleeping comrades. You can really see that he has a lot going on internally, and is reflecting on the previous day and what is to come. Before sending the fathers and women home, he does this sigh to himself, and lets us in on the inner torment and regret that the people didn't join them. Kassa also dies leaning back off the barricade with his arms out, and he keeps them there until the barricade is removed, which is impressive given the time he has to keep this position for.

In 'Dans ma Vie' ('In my Life'), there are bars to the garden stage left, then bars projected on a screen in front of the set, so Cosette actually feels boxed in and isolated from the outside world in her garden.

Cosette telling Valjean about the 'four men scheming' (replacing 'three men I saw beyond the wall' makes more sense. She and Marius actually see the end of the Eponine, Thenardier and Patron Minette scene, so she tells Valjean as she has reason to worry.

They make the decision to have the barricade rise outside the Musain rather than the Corinthe, probably to simplify things. This also creates an emotional link, as they dream of creating a new world and it's next to that space that they try to achieve that new world.

This production's Prouvaire has a beautiful openness as a performer, he carries a little book on the barricade which feels very apt.

After the defeat, two national guardsmen, plus Javert, survey the barricade, which is covered in the dead, making them face up to what they have done. We also have the national guard giving the orders at the back of stage, visible through the barricade.

'Le Suicide de Javert' ('Javert's Suicide') is heart stopping; he is on top of one of the large set pieces and towards of the song is raised higher. His death is achieved by falling back 90 degrees and the screen in front shows a projection of him falling in slow motion into the Seine. This production takes place 5 minutes from the Seine, which really hits you in this moment.

'Seul Devant ces Tables Vides' ('Empty Chairs at Empty Tables') is done with projections of shadows on the Musain set, which is a wooden piece stage right. Of course we see Grantaire drinking, recognisable as the shadow with the top hat.

'Tourne Tourne' ('Turning') is performed as the moment the families have to identify the dead, such a unique staging choice.

When things get awkward at the wedding, the master of ceremonies asks the 'Maestra' to play a specific song. When things get awkward again when the Thenardiers are eating all the food, Thenardier tries the same thing and asks the 'Maestro' for a song (there was a joke were he said something that wasn't a song, but I can't remember what). The Musical Director is then revealed upstage when she corrects him that's she's a 'Maestra', which got a big clap.

Eponine doesn't duet with Fantine in the Finale until later than usual, so we get a beautiful scene between Fantine and Valjean where she puts his hand on the book before he gives it to Cosette.

Once Valjean dies, he gets to greet everyone in death, included Myriel, who he hugs, and Javert, who he shakes hands with. And Enjolras, who feels very central to this production. He's used a lot in the trailer and Stanley Kassa has the most amazing charisma, you really root for him.

Overall, I loved this production. A lot of the lyrics are tell the novel's story more explicitly and are still poetic at times. I especially loved Fantine's lyrics, and it's so refreshing to see a different take on the material visually. I really hope this production gets a longer life, and I'm so glad we have an album with this cast. They all have golden voices, especially Oceane Demontis as Eponine. I also have to shout out Juliette Artigala for her portrayal of Cosette, I thought she was so endearing.

[alluviia-writes]

NOISY NIGHT ,,

Leader x gn!reader Rating: T Type: Short Fluff Word Count: <1k [ See bottom for A/N and notes ]

Prologue: You're a tired fella, Leander comes to the rescue

"I'm asking you to trust me"

"Yeah of course." you twisted your body on the bed, wrinkling the sheets even more. It was full night, the ruckus outside the Wet Wick still loud and clear. You, unable to sleep, had started to think about your first day in Eridia. In particular, the time spent with Leander.

"I'm asking you to trust me," you repeated, his words echoing in your mind and cutting trough the unpleasant background noise. Was he really trustworthy? During your life you learned not to trust anyone, the closest people you had ended up leaving you in the same wastes you almost died in. "Fucking Leander," your eyes hurt.

"If you ever need a break from all of this, come to me".

Again, his words not yours. "Is it too early to ask for help?" you whispered to yourself, "is it too early to trust?" You scoffed, "of course it is, stupid."

1 AM. Eyes open. Limbs twitching. Sore ears. "Fuck this." You grunted. In order to feel comfortable you unbandaged your arms and hands, took off most of Kuras' clothes leaving you in your pants and the loose shirt. "The bartender should've had just knocked me out flat," you slowly sat on the bed, your consciousness hazed by tiredness along with that incredibly strong drink you had earlier.

As you made your way out of your room, you noticed that the tavern was full. Not like before but the fact that there was no place to sit nor stand and the counter said it all. The wooden floor was warm, not sure how given the weather but you found it pleasant. "Noisy bastards." You leaned on the wood railing, scanning the room only for your eyes to land on none other than the man of the hour, Leander, serving drinks.

Were you staring at him? Yes. Did you find him interesting and attractive? Yes, wait.

Your cheeks flushed at the thought, you quickly covered them with your cold hands. "Truth to be told, no one I met today was ugly," you told yourself. But despite everything, could you let your guard down?

"Y/n!" A familiar voice shouted from under you. "Can't sleep? Want me to sing to you or brew you something worth a knock out?" Leander... "Your Bloodhounds are noisy." You smiled. "Cut them some slack," he started walking up the stairs, "they've been working hard," he reached out for your shoulder, probably to rest on it, but stopped right over it, giving it a pat.

"So how are you-" your legs trembled and you almost lost balance due to the lack of rest, "ah careful," Leander wrapped one of his arms around you. "Let's get you to bed."

He guided you to your room, holding your hand. Your bare hand. It made you giddy. "There you go, rest up y/n," he smiled, helping you on the bed. "Wait," you held on his wrist with slight pressure, "stay." You whispered. "Please." Your brows knitted as his raised, Leander's face was crimson red, "oh y/n," his gaze softened. "Who am I to deny you company?" he intertwined his fingers with yours and took a seat on the edge of the bed, your head on his lap and your hands gently linked.

:

You cracked on eye open, sunlight filtering trough the window. You looked up and saw Leander, he never left. His eyes were closed, chest rising and falling calmly.

You wondered how he stayed comfortable the whole night, despite his back resting against the bed frame and his legs dangling from the mattress. One of his hands in yours and the other on your head, fingers laced in your hair.

You stared at his relaxed face, his dark circles prominent, his lips slightly parted. With your free hand you delicately reached out for his face, like the previous night... you were scared, no doubt. You trembled as you hovered his lips, "just a stroke" you thought.

"Good morning," a deep voice broke the silence and before you could pull away a calloused hand embraced yours, bringing his lips closer, leaving a soft kiss on your palm.

"Ah..." you face reddened still looking up at him from his lap. "Oh, my apologies," he looked away, with his cheeks now pink and his mouth curled in a grin. "I got too ahead of myself," he helped you up and stood beside. "I enjoyed our night, you must've been really tired, you never woke up." He smiled. "You didn't sleep?" You questioned. "Ah... about that, it's one of my many struggles," he giggled, "mh, thank you for staying with me, I don't know what came to me when-" ⏤ "whenever you want y/n" his smile seemed genuine, it made you feel warm.

"Now, I'll leave you to your morning routine while I follow mine." He shortly bowed, his hand leaving yours. "See you later..." you whispered, his warmth lingering on your body as the day started.

:

A voice reached your ears as you were walking near the Senobium, "If it isn't y/n," ⏤ "Hello Vere, Ais." You smiled at them and they returned it. "Care to join us for a walk?" Vere cooed stretching his arms, "they let me roam a few hours, shame." He smirked, "better than nothing," Ais joined. "What do you say Sparrow? Coming with us?" His eyes met yours. "It's gonna be fun~" the fox winked as you rolled your eyes, "sure why not." Hopefully you wouldn't end up drunk and wasted by the evening. But frankly, if that led to Leander taking care of you again, you didn't mind.

But even so... was Leander really the man he seemed to be?

A/N: Short fanfiction for the man of the hour

Notes: none

⎼ Alluviia Dividers by @cafekitsune

[lunchtimebedamned1997]

Arcane S2 thoughts

(spoilers, obviously)

Most of this was sent to my friend Penn @pennedinblood in discord first, but I wanted to share it + some more on here too.

Okay, I now that its been a couple days and I've had time to think properly, have some thoughts about Arcane. This isn't going to be as specific and nuanced as I'd like, but I'll need more time for something like that.

Here's the thing... What we did get was good and I liked it a lot - for the most part anyway - but like - it wasn't a very good finale imo...

Like -

In season one they had this just fucking masterful foundation for such a nuanced discussion of class and oppression, of the cycle of violence, of how desperate acts may seem evil to some but are not always as simple as they seem and that one person's actions may influence the narrative but that it is the systems in place - and the willingness to follow systems that harm a disproportionate amount of the population for personal gain - that are the real issue. There were no real villains in s1 imo. It was just people making good, bad, or neutral choices, and they all interconnected and effected not only the plot, but the audiences' understanding of the corrupt system in place.

It forced you (if you're paying attention) to understand with visceral understanding both those of the oppressed and the oppressors; and in the midst of all of that we had magic and science interplaying beautifully against the good and greed of mankind.

AND just vast, resonant, deep interpersonal connections and development that you could feel in your bones.

and then in season two... we just kind of went - 'fuck that here's jesus and a witch ~~~ Magic war tiiime' Like?????

It touched on a few themes for sure, and what Jayce had to say to Viktor about disability and the purpose of people, or the value in imperfection and the point of life - as someone who's struggled with their health and other personal things I don't want to get into on the internet, that hit so hard. I hated Jayce in S1, and he won me over in act one of this season and just - didn't let me down. His arc was beautiful and I really really appreciate it. His connection with Viktor means so much to me. screeches into the void

But lets be so fucking real - they kind of (majorly) chickened out of their mass commentary on the opposing classes and working towards a better system that doesn't harm its people. and instead like - Vi's arc got completely fucked?

Like - oh okay so you ditched everything you were going to say and just made her a strong war pawn who can hit good and is gay coolcoolcool (sobs). Like, act one was so promising it really felt like it was following up on everything they had been working towards, and i loved seeing Vi having to make hard choices; watching her become an enforcer as the only way she could think of to deal with two disparate parts of herself - one that needed to put an end to the monster she feels like she created (Jinx, obvi), and one that desperately needed to hold onto the only person she had left (Caitlyn).

And Cait's devolvement into fascism was so intriguing and dark and I hated it in a good way, yk? Like I was like "oh fuck they made Cupcake unrecognizable in a fucking believable way wtf that's rad bro"

And then in act two they were just like 'HAHA lets not show you anything but the highlights of Vi's inner tumoil, then - wow look Jinx is here to tell her about Vander! - let's just never actually take a hard look into Vi's issues or personal arc ever again teehee - oh! And Cait's on our side again yay!' Like EXCUSE ME???

Vi had stood as one of the most important characters in the entire show. She is the linchpin between Piltover and Zaun - one of only two hinges that connects the two cites (the other being Viktor to a far lesser degree bc his roots are never explored, Singed is the only undercity person we see him go back to interact with, etc etc leaving Vi to be the only 'real one') And they completely sidestepped that - especially how she's also so connected to Ekko and the Firelights - which was just - never touched again - Ekko didn't even get to fix his tree! I get it, bigger fish but ffs - it's not a blaming character thing, it's a writing issue. I understand why Ekko had to focus on smth besides his tree lmao - it's that the writers just dropped this thing that stood so strongly for Ekko's fucking roots man (pun intended). Like - He's representing what Vander wanted to do. What Zuan could be. He is literally making a part of Zaun beautiful and supportive, and standing resolute against the system and saying "both of you are wrong, back tf up and lets talk" and they just got rid of that. I think it says a lot that that in particular was punted into the void.

I'm just not over that we never got to see him and Vi interact again dude wth - and I feel like that really speaks to how much they removed Vi from her point and purpose in S1. It would make sense if she needed more time to reconnect -esp after how Cait betrayed her - but to never actually talk again? Just glimpsing each other in the finale?

Don't get me wrong, I loved some of the time-suckers this season. Mel for one (who I also wasn't a huge fan of in S1 (I didn't trust her lol)). Everything with Mel, Vik, and Jayce was sooo interesting, and Ambessa was a great villain. She was imposing and horrible and yet there were very small parts of her that you could understand - but there wasn't enough time. Not with everything else we were also touching. Not without loosing so much of what we had been working towards. And even with the large focus, The Black Rose was this jumbled mess of ideas that didn't really amount to much besides giving Mel a powerup and probably leading us into the spinoff :(

I've been having trouble processing all of this because I'm shocked and upset because narratively, I didn't like it.

And I HATE that I didn't like it. I liked the individual scenes. I liked the concepts at play. But none of it was fleshed out!

That impeccable no-crumbs-left writing was suddenly nothing but crumbs. A whole feast of them. Nothing was really held together and it left each arc feeling like a separate vaguely-connected vignette rather than a whole story - let alone a satisfying conclusion to the previous season.

I'm genuinely angry because I wanted so badly to love this season but I just don't; not as a whole, not as an ending. Again, the individual moments were largely great, but good moments don't make a good story.

I just feel like they were trying too hard to serve LoL lore. Originally Arcane wasn't cannon-compliant with the messy lore of the game, and then a few months ago they came out and said that it was now considered canon - and I was excited bc I thought that meant that whatever they did would influence League - but I was wrong. I think it's very clear that Canonizing Arcane had the opposite effect. I think it's why they chickened out of their societal commentary - I think it's why the Champion deaths were so 'no body, no proof'. I think that it undercut all the stakes for the writers and made them forced to bend to the will of a lot more oversight from the higher-ups at Riot.

I don't know guys, how are you feeling? I'm really glad we got CaitVi cannonized (but I have things I wanna say about that too, esp. how their sex scene played into the sidestepping of Vi's arc (not that it happened, but the way it did - I can talk more about this another time lmao)) and I loved getting a timebomb kiss (again more Vi arc things I wanna say *sobbing and gnawing on my cage bars*) but yeah - anyway I gotta stop typing before I get too into-the-weeds of my thoughts. I'll probably make a big post about the specifics of how I feel they fucked up Vi's story in another post bc I clearly can't let it go XD

But fr tell me ur thoughts too pls I want to know what you thing even if - maybe even especially if - you disagree with me :3

Idk I've got to rewatch it.

It wasn't bad TV, it's still better than most things coming out right now... I hate that I can't just love it entirely rn raaaaaaahhh auhfalwoiha (help D':)

[letters-to-rosie]

Rosie!!!! Ep 7 had me pointing at the screen like that Leo DiCaprio gif when Jinx lit the match to blow up the bar and during the sweet Timebomb moment on the roof!!! I was like JUST LIKE ROSIE SAID AAAAHHHHHHH even timebomb only being possible in an AU is in line with that i think. AND you are giving us the revolution plot the show didn't!!

lol timebomb and roofs name a more iconic duo

the funny thing about the parallel is that Jinx is doing this tearful goodbye to a place that's been a home to her for so long and was owned by two successive fathers whose deaths she had a hand in and feels responsible for. and revolution!Powder is like "Ekko pissed me off" lmao. not to trivialize her feelings, because it's certainly more than that, but she didn't come there to destroy it initially. it's this explosion of all this pain and anger that then is released when she and Ekko fight in the alley. it's so much less deliberate than Jinx in the show. it was interesting for me to watch too lol I was like heyyyyyy I wrote something vaguely like that

I do wish the show hadn't given us the feeling that timebomb was only possible in an AU, just because it also explicitly shows us that Jinx heals when she has people to care for. I think Isha's death is to suggest that she'll never be anyone's true protector, but it really shouldn't have to be that way. because Jinx keeps saving people all throughout the season. Ekko even says her inventions change the world. and there's so much work to do in rebuilding Zaun and making it its own thing that Jinx could be a big part of. work that Ekko himself is going to be doing. this is all to say that we should've gotten Firelight Jinx lol. we kinda did with the final teamup, but we didn't get to see it, and that's a shame. I think that would have been a very natural ending for her, to hide away and then live amongst the people who have become her people. but noooooo we can't have nice things lol

and that kinda segues into the business of the revolution. I did figure that the two sides of the city would have to team up to fight off Ambessa, though I couldn't have seen her alliance with Viktor coming (though it makes sense given Singed's lore, in a convoluted way). really not a fan of how at the end of the show most of the problems that were present at the beginning as far as class and inequality go are left intact. the only real difference is that Zaun has some leverage, but not much. but this does align with my critiques of the first season having some pretty neoliberal underpinnings. the second season just doubles down on that super hard in a frustrating way

for me, a big part of why I wanted to do the fic is because the show gave me a world in which it was really easy to talk about a lot of issues I'm very serious about, and because I could see Jinx/Powder turning into a leader, even if not in a conventional sense, through traits that were evident even before season 2's direction was revealed to us. it's kinda crazy how it's so easy to forget that Ambessa only had such an easy in because of the oppression Piltover had been perpetuating against its poorer half the whole time. it's a good example of how oppression is dangerous for the oppressor as well (very Pedagogy of the Oppressed-core of me but it's me lol)

this got long anyway hope you're doing well!! we should talk soon!

fic we're discussing is here if anyone wants it

[durgetavoc]

Yes I really want to know the horrors of the shit bucket. I’m quite surprised that he isn’t obsessed with cleanliness. He always struck me as the type but then again… I guess I’m wrong.

Oh god, here we go then.

SPOILERS FOR THE HOUSE OF HOPE

(CW for...The Shit Bucket Guy, obviously)

So, if we ever decide to go steal the Orphic Hammer, we can go visit The House of Hope, there, we obviously find Raphael's collection of artifacts, his eternal debtors, and one of them is… This guy.

You should know that all eternal debtors are condemned to a certain task/action. It's difficult to know if this has anything to do with their contract with Raphael, if it is a distortion of an already existing trait of their personality (for example, the Perfect Eternal Debtor, the Theologist Eternal Debtor or even the Voyeur Eternal Debtor) or if it's a way to completely dehumanize them (Loyal Eternal Debtor…My beloved :( ). It seems to be a mix of everything, that wouldn't be surprising if Raphael did what seemed most entertaining to him.

But let's focus on the Shit Bucket Guy, since he's the one that interested us today.

As our affectionate nickname for him indicates, we find him in front of a chamber pot with a visible green odorous cloud above it, which confirms us that it has been used (when you interact with the pot, here what the game says : "An overpowering stench singes your nostrils. Nothing good happened here."). The debtor doesn't appreciate us getting closer to it, and if we ask him if he is its guardian, this is what he answers:

His "name" in the game is "Unclean Eternal Debtor" and if you're taking a look at his face... Yeah, I guess he's not just guarding the pot. When we observe the animation of the character, he walks around the pot, makes a hand gesture to smell it, and that's it.

It has become a running joke in the fandom, particularly for us, little mouses. Those who have been to the House of Hope know about the Shit Bucket Guy... But nobody talks about him.

(Yeah I couldn't help it.)

It's not really surprising, the presence of the chamber pot, and not just any one, RAPHAEL'S, raises other questions. One might wonder if it's not a little OOC coming from someone like him.

Let's take advantage of this question to dig... A little deeper.

Here's, imo of course, why it's somehow relevant to show Raphael's chamber pot and what this tells us about him.

Shall we?

1. Don't be fooled by appearances, he POOPS like us!

Raphael. Raphael. Raphael who embodies sophistication, intellect and danger... Alluring and at the same time fearsome, a fascinating mix. Goddamnit, he's a suave motherfucker, and he fucking knows it.

In video games, it's part of the suspension of disbelief to not talk/show toilet, unless you're in a life simulation game like sims. It's not just taboo since it's one of the most private aspects of our life, but it's also... Not relevant to the intrigue most of the time.

Showing us something that intimate about him disintegrate his mysterious aura. We learnt that Raphaels shits. Yeah, absolutely astonishing. Reminding us that he's exactly at the same level as us. Like the title said, despite his charming manners, his eloquence, his theatrical gestures... He's still human, hells, part human.

2. In the Devil's house.

The first time we meet Raphael, he wastes no time in bringing us to his home, on his own terms. We only see one room, and this is what we see:

Luxurious place, lavish displays of food, ordered furniture... Promising, right? This is how Raphael wants to give as a first impression. I think this scene is perfect as a metaphor. Remember what Gale said? He's taking us to dinner! Like a date, he wants to impress us, seduce us.

But when we're back to this place during our improvised visit, what do we see?

Rotten food. Blood. Skeletons. Mess. Remind me of my room before I have to rush to clean everything because a friend comes over.

By choosing to enter Raphael's home, into his privacy, the game takes us on a tour of his home: we discover what is hidden behind Raphael's character. It is of course expected that we discover his secrets and/or aspects of his personality that he would not wish to reveal, at least not before we make a deal with him.

Haarlep, his incubus, also participates in this demystification. Through them, we can learn about Raphael's sexuality (I'll be quick on this since @bitethedevil did some really good analysis posts about it):

Raphael is only attracted to himself (hence Haarlep's appearance)

He is a bottom pillow prince

And he doesn't last in bed (a valuable information that can be used to anger Raphael later)

Once again, this is another very intimate aspect that is revealed to us. I'm sorry to say it, but Haarlep basically plays the same role as the chamber pot to accentuate the intimacy of the place and also to ridicule Raphael, thus revealing to us what he really is.

3. Raphael hates his father.

Our favorite cambion is having daddy issues, and the chamber pot seems like a nice response to the statue his dad gave him. It's a "blink and you'll miss it" kind of detail, but it's funny to point it out. Show don't tell as it's finest.

4. How bad it is to sell your soul to Raphael.

This one is easy... The Shit Bucket Guy is an example of Raphael's cruelty : "This is what could happen to you if you make a contract with Raphael."

Sure, it's funny because the whole thing is ridiculous: "Guardian of his chamber pot? Seriously?", but it's hard to really laugh at it if you take into account the other eternal debtors. The whole place is designed to make you uncomfortable, because it's not treated as a joke. They had a life, had to ask Raphael for help, and are now reduced to doing something degrading until the end of time. They don't even have a name anymore. They could be your Tav/Durge or your companions...

Suddenly, the temptation to make a contract with Raphael is less appealing after seeing all this, isn't it?

Conclusion : Now the question that burns our lips : What could this guy have done to him to be reduced to this? And why?

My first instinct when I met this character was to think, "oh boy, you must have really pissed off Raphael..." let's be honest, it's the kind of torture you could imagine to your worst enemy or at least a very annoying one.

It could be that, or maybe, mayyybe...

Remember Mephistopheles' statue?

What if Raphael was SO annoyed by this gift that he woke up one day thinking "fuck my dad, fuck his gift" and decided to literally shit on him by putting a chamber pot in front of this statue to express his thanks. And just like any narcissist/paranoid guy, he named a "guard" to be sure no one would spy on him through this (it sounds delirious, but again, we learn that Haarlep was send to distract Raphael, so why not?)

Sure, maybe Shit Bucket Guy annoyed Raphael in the past, but wouldn't that be kinda fucked up that this guy didn't do anything that would justify this treatment? He's just a dude, and Raphael is just a pissed-off daddy's boy (and a very mature one).

Or maybe, Raphael just thinks it's funny. And who are we to discuss a devil's sense of humor?

In any case, sorry Shit Bucket Guy, but it wasn't your lucky day.

PS: Hush, I can hear you wondering "do you think Raphael is scat???" and on this subject I would say: I don't think so, his narcissism is there after all, but he also seems really into humiliation. So maybe it's for the best we don't really know the answer to this question.

After all, only Haarlep can judge him (so the bar is already on the floor).

[writingtraumaforever]

Juno: Chapter 1

Notes: Warning: I have literally never been to a concert in my life, so i'm bullshitting all of this. This was inspired by the Sonic Twitter Takeover where Shadow revealed his next concert he and Amy would be attending was Sabrina Carpenter- which are notoriously sexual in nature. My curious ass just loved the idea of exploring how Shadow may act at such an event, and here we are. Absolute crack with fluff.. and a bit of.. ahem. sex.

Summary: Sonic attends a Sabrina Carpenter concert with friends on Amy's birthday.. and a few surprise guests.

Rating: Explicit (suggestive and sexual content)

Chapter Select:

Link to my AO3!

Start:

Sabrina Carpenter was definitely not on Sonic’s Spotify Wrapped Playlist. The only songs he’s really heard of hers are the ones that have inevitably gone viral on all those social media platforms. Feather. Please Please Please. Nonsense. Espresso– okay, Nonsense might be on his playlist. But that one is just catchy, okay!? Couldn’t be helped.

It’s not that he doesn’t like the singer. He has nothing against her! She’s just.. Feminine. Like. Hyper feminine. And while Sonic likes to say he’s in touch with his feminine side, saying he’s comfortable blasting Sabrina Carpenter and Taylor Swift in public is a bit of a stretch. He has an image to uphold after all! If Eggman sees him all over the news bopping to You Belong With Me then how would he ever be intimidated by Sonic ever again???

All this to say.. He was attending one of her concerts. Not by choice! It was Amy’s birthday. And while he wasn’t keen on going to a concert of some short blonde human strutting around singing about coffee and birds, he cared about Amy. She was one of his closest friends! And if the one thing she asked for for her birthday was for everyone to attend a concert she was extremely excited about with her then so be it! Sonic could suck it up for a night and be there for his best girl.

Amy honestly hadn’t seemed to have expected Sonic to say yes, so when he did, she jumped into action and bought the necessities. She had arrived early to his house along with Knuckles to “prepare them for the night”. Preparation apparently meant fluffing Sonic’s chest fur into the shape of a heart rather than it being trimmed and combed down as usual, decorating a pink cowboy hat for Knuckles to wear. When Sonic asked why Cream and Tails weren’t coming along, Amy answered with a simple, “Not age appropriate,” and nothing more.

How explicit could coffee and feathers get??

Sonic didn’t question it. In fact, he’d rather go into this knowing as little as possible.

After Amy added some sequins around their eyes for extra glam and did her own makeup, they left for the concert! Amy was dressed in a hot pink dress of some sort that had kiss marks bedazzled all over it and a heart cut out over her chest in a peek-a-boo sort of style. Her bangs were curled in a very specific way, and her quills looked more voluminous than usual. She was stunning! And both Sonic and Knuckles told her so. While this was definitely neither of them’s cup of tea, they’d do anything for the heart of their group with no complaints. And that was absolutely Amy Rose. She’s done more than enough for all of them.

They were perfect gentlemen, opening the door to the front of Sonic’s car, the Speed Star, for her to climb into, Knuckles sitting in the back. They didn’t wanna ruin their stylish looks with walking or running to the place, opting for the rare but convenient choice of driving somewhere for once. 

Once they arrived, they paid for parking and climbed out. Sonic kept his head down for the most part as to not be seen– not for the sake of embarrassment, but for the sake of not drawing too much attention. It was Amy’s night, after all. 

As Sonic looked around and took in the overwhelming crowd of girls at this venue, though, he couldn’t help but honestly feel bad Amy didn’t have more girl friends her age. He supposes her position in Team Sonic has taken up most of her social life, spending her time in their close-knit group rather than branching out more. Which is a damn shame, honestly, because she was a great gal! Super sweet, easy to talk to, unconditionally loyal, and so, so caring. Most girls would kill for a friend like that! But Amy never quite fit in with most girls, it seemed. Always intimidating a lot of them with how confident she was or how outspoken she could be.

That along with the company she kept, Sonic supposes it just drove most people away.

All that to be said, Sonic and Knuckles did have a surprise guest coming to meet up with them for Amy..

He kept his pink counterpart close in the wave of Sabrina Carpenter fans, quickly taking note it would be easy to lose her in the crowd with how much pink there was. She should’ve worn a different color, damnit. Her arm stayed looped around his, bouncing up and down giddy with excitement as they inched closer to the front of the line to get in.

“Oh, this is so exciting! I have been watching videos of this concert for weeks! Thank you guys so much again for getting the tickets!” She beams, grabbing Knuckles now as well and yanking him in for a tight, group hug. Both the boys groan at the squeeze, chuckling with wide grins. “No problem, Ames,” Sonic shrugs off as he’s let go, “Your excitement is more than enough to make it worth it.” “Yeah, and plus it’s your birthday!” Knuckles adds, playfully punching the pink hedgehog in the shoulder, “Can’t let our girl down on her birthday!”

Amy just smiles wide at this, stars in her eyes and blissful with anticipation.

“You guys are just the best,” she beams, both boys bashfully blushing at this. Sonic rubbing under his nose with a little smirk and Knuckles rubbing the back of his neck with a wink.

They eventually get inside the venue, finding their seats and taking in the place. It was massive. Sonic seriously underestimated how big a deal this chick was. That being said, there were three spots left open near them, so maybe it didn’t sell out?? 

One was for their surprise guest, though. Whom which was now walking up.

“Hey guys!”

All their heads turned to the familiar voice, finding none other than Sticks the Badger making her way over wearing a her typical tube top but paring it with a taupe-pink skirt instead. Sonic silently appreciates the tom-boy’s effort. 

Amy absolutely loses her mind, doing one of those squeals only possible for a female to perform. It was nearly at a pitch only dogs could hear, he swears–

“Sticks! Oh my Chaos, what are you doing here?!” She jumps up, wrapping her arms around her friend once she’s close enough and having the gesture returned. Sonic and Knuckles fist bump behind them proudly.

“Couldn’t miss my best friend’s birthday! Even if it is at a concert that will most likely end in us all being hypnotized by subliminal messages in the music..”

Classic Sticks.

“Oh my gosh–you came so far all for me???” Amy giggles excitedly, pulling back to look at her friend better. “Yeah! Of course, I had the help of our boys,” the badger winks, gesturing to the two who are still sitting in their seats looking up at the reunion.

“Hey Sticks.” “Long time, no see.” “Hey fellas.”

Amy’s lip wobbles and crimps up, little sniffles coming from her as she fans herself with a tearful, “You guuuuuyyyss…”

Sonic chuckles and shakes his head at her, “Don’t cry!” “Your makeup!” Knuckles adds with a little laugh. “I know! I know,” she takes a deep breath then huffs it out, “Gotta pull it together. For the glam.” “For the glam,” Sonic and Knuckles unanimously agree.

Sticks joins the three, and they all chat amongst themselves over what’s been going on in their lives since last they saw one another. Amy and Sticks have a lot of long overdue girl talk as well, leaving Knuckles and Sonic to talk about not girly things.

Like girls.

“So how’s it been, Knucks?? Still too committed to a rock to get a girl one?” Sonic teases with a little smirk.

“Ha-ha. Very funny,” Knuckles grunts with a roll of his eyes, “You can’t exactly be preaching to me about commitment either, Sonic.”

“Me?? I’m committed to the wind in my quills and the ground pounding beneath my feet, buddy. That’s the best commitment there is!”

Knuckles huffs in an amused sort of way, “Sure. Until you’re precious feet are old and wrinkled and alone.”

“I’ve got plenty of friends to keep me company,” Sonic shrugs, brushing it off with a wave, “Anyway, enough about me. We were talking about you. How’re things going with—“

“Don’t even mention her,” Knuckles groans immediately, “She’s confusing and infuriating. And batty.”

“Well. That is her species,” Sonic remarks with a smirk.

“Whatever, man. I’m just glad to have a night away from her pestering me. Kinda shocked Amy didn’t invite her—“

“Hey boys, the fun has arrived!”

Knuckles’ eyes widen, a mortified look developing on his face as he stares at Sonic, “Don’t tell me..”

“Uhh. Yup,” Sonic grins with invisible devil horns growing from his quills.

Knuckles turns and Sonic leans over to see properly as well. And sure as hell, there’s Rouge the bat looking fine as ever.

She on theme as well, dressed in a red mini-skirt that sparkles like every other girl’s there along with a matching crop top that has a heart cut out over her cleavage— an ongoing trend Sonic is noticing at this concert. Must be a Sabrina Carpenter thing. She has red sparkling high heel boots to match, the tips of her wings covered in bedazzled kiss prints and her makeup done up all spiffy as well.

Behind her, though, is the real surprise.

Shadow the Hedgehog.

Amy is immediately squealing again, moving to hug Rouge all excited and bouncy— the girl has so much energy. And that’s coming from Sonic.

“You finally made it!” she giggles, now prompting both Sonic and Knuckles to realize the two empty seats were ones for Amy’s own invited guests. Two they didn’t at all expect.

“Of course, we made it! You think we’re gonna leave the birthday girl hangin’???” Rouge grins, pressing a kiss to Amy’s cheek and leaving a bright red kiss mark there. No one bothers to point it out. It looks pretty on theme for the concert thus far anyway.

Speaking of theme, Shadow is… not on it. He’s wearing his typical leather jacket with some baggy dark denim jeans and his typical air shoes. Clothes, Sonic notes. Dude must get gussied up when he gets out. Under his jacket is a shirt that reads ‘Jesus was a Carpenter’. Which just adds to Sonic’s confusion, honestly.

But he does sport red glitter where the red cat-eye like stripes over his eyes are. Which makes his eyes look like they sparkle.. not that Sonic noticed.

He’s carrying a bunch of drinks and snacks in his arms— which is honestly a really smart idea, Sonic notes. He’s feeling snacky. Shadow is taking in the venue, looking around with a content sort of look on his face which honestly surprises Sonic. He isn’t typically one for crowded places, always seems antsy and ready to leave. Here he seems.. chill.

His eyes only move back to the group when it’s his turn to greet Amy, further surprising the blue hero with how he immediately opens his arms for her to hug him and hugs her right back with a-..

Is that a smile???

“Happy birthday, Rose,” the hybrid mumbles against Amy’s head, placing an affectionate kiss on the top of it and sending Sonic for a damn loop.

What was going on????

“Uh.. have I crossed over into another dimension or something??” he leans over, muttering to Knuckles who is also staring with obvious shock at the entire interaction.

“I wish you’d take me with you if you have, because it’s gettin’ real weird over here..,” the echidna mutters back. 

Rouge’s eyes move around Amy as her and Shadow catch up, spotting Knuckles on the other side of the birthday girl and Sticks. She immediately smirks and offers him a teasing wave with a wink.

Knuckles goes rigid, blushing as he slowly offers a tiny wave in return with an awkward and messy looking grin on his muzzle.

Sonic raises an eyebrow at this, “Thought you couldn’t stand her??”

“I’m sitting, aren’t I??”

Rouge scoots past Sticks and Amy, Sonic watching as Shadow and Amy keep talking— why are they still talking??

Sonic’s eyes shift to the bat, though, as she bends down directly in front of Sonic- the poor blue lad getting a face full of bat boob through her peek-a-boo hole. His eyes very purposely do not look down there, staying locked on her own turquoise eyes as she offers him a flirtatious little grin and points at his seat, “Mind if I steal your spot?”

“Uhhh..,” his eyes glance to Knuckles in the corner of his eyes, seeing the red echidna very subtly shaking his head. So there’s really only one answer Sonic can give.

“Sure.”

Sonic can hear the quiet growl Knuckles gives as Sonic stands from his seat, allowing Rouge to maneuver around him to sit down instead. Her attention is immediately set on the echidna, and thus, their typically bickering flirtatious banter is engaged.

Sonic just chuckles to himself as he looks at the others of whom which are now all sitting..

The order is Knuckles, Sonic—who is now replaced by Rouge, Sticks, Amy, Shadow… and Rouge.. which is where Sonic will now be sitting.

By Shadow.

Huh.

Didn’t think that through.

Mentally facepalming his big oof, the hero considers asking everyone to simply scoot down one so he can sit between Sticks and Rouge, but then he’d have to ask Shadow to move and that’s just awkward considering he’s only doing it to get out of sitting next to the guy.

“Whatcha doin’, Sonic??” Amy asks, looking at the blue blur with a cute little head tilt. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling Shadow and Sticks’ gaze also fall on him now.

“I uh-.. Rouge took my spot. So I sorta gotta..”

“Oh! Here,” Amy responds, moving her crossed legs to the side so Sonic can step through easier. Sticks and Shadow promptly do the same, Sticks hugging her feet up on the seat with herself while Shadow swivels his hips to move his legs as Amy did.

Sonic just nods appreciatively and sidesteps through them, careful not to drag his tail across anyone sitting in the row in front of them. Once at the end of his friends, he promptly takes his seat next to Shadow.

This.. was weird.

He hasn’t seen the guy in… honestly, he doesn’t know how long it’s been. Perhaps it was Rouge’s birthday six months ago?? It was her 25th, and she had it at her club. Shadow had been there. He and Sonic hadn’t talked, though. He had mostly stayed talking it up with other GUN agents he and Rouge worked with, and Amy a few times. Then he left early to take Cream home while everyone else of drinking age stayed to party properly.

Sonic hadn’t even realized he and Cream were that close. Let alone that Ms. Vanilla trusted him that must with her precious girl. He was honestly lowkey offended she hadn’t asked Sonic to escort her home. But then again, Sonic had wanted to stay and party, so.. worked out, he supposed.

Either way, the point stands that he didn’t really see Shadow a lot anymore. Somewhere along the years, he and Shadow stopped their petty rivalry and grew apart. Their need to constantly outdo one another didn’t quite hit anymore. Races came to an end. Sparring slowed to nothing.

Sonic often wondered if this was simply because Shadow felt he had nothing to prove anymore. He had grown as his own person, no longer comparing himself to Sonic..

He can’t even remember the last time he heard Shadow refer to himself as ‘the Ultimate Lifeform’.

He didn’t even know where Shadow was living these days.. last he heard, he had been relocated after Eggman took over years ago with the help of Infinite. Once the Resistance took their freedom back, Shadow was moved elsewhere to help rebuild their world. He never really came back permanently. Just showed up here and there..

He looked good. He looked.. different but yet the same. Taller. Definitely taller. And his chest fur was a bit more gold-tinted than the pure white it use to be from what he can see of it peeking out from his shirt. He’s guessing that just comes with age. Most white hedgehogs do yellow with maturity. Just as Sonic’s own quills are slowly turning a slightly lighter shade of blue. More cerulean and cobalt.

The corner creases of Shadow’s eyes looked sharper, but his gaze felt softer. Calmer. Not as brooding or defensive. Sonic couldn’t see his muscles with all those icky clothes on, but he imagines the guy is probably more toned now too—

He’s busted from his train of thought when he finally realizes a bright pair of crimson orbs are staring at him expectedly.

Did… did he say something to Sonic??

“Huh??” Sonic very intelligently says.

Shadow gives an ever so slight hint of a smirk, quirking a brow as he repeats himself, “I said it’s been a while.”

“Oh- yeah! It has. When’s the last time we saw each other, Rouge’s birthday??” Sonic offers his own little smirk now, adopting his cocky persona again to try and play off his very uncool initial response.

“I believe so, though we didn’t exactly get to catch up,” the hybrid replies casually, seeming far more comfortable socializing than the last time Sonic held a conversation with him.

“That we didn’t,” Sonic nods, offering a little chuckled, “Though, I didn’t exactly realize we were on catching up terms.”

“Why would you think that??” Shadow’s brows furrow, head tilting curiously at the blue hedgehog.

“Well, you never asked to catch up before,” Sonic points out, shrugging his shoulders.

“I suppose that’s true,” he mutters after a moment of pause, seeming to ponder this as he looks back towards the stage..

Sonic doesn’t like the weird tension that suddenly just formed between them, so he swiftly changes the subject.

“Didn’t expect to see you at a Sabrina Carpenter concert,” he lightheartedly teases.

“I come to concert often with Rose,” Shadow shrugs nonchalantly, “Plus, Sabrina is extremely talented.”

Sonic hums at this, leaning closer and then nudging Shadow’s arm with his elbow, “You and Ames see each other or somethin’??”

Sonic tries really hard to not make that sound like he was prying. Or jealous.

That obviously doesn’t work.

Shadow merely snorts, seeming amused by Sonic’s question, “Why?? You jealous, Faker??”

Faker. Hasn’t been called that in a while.

Sonic huffs, rolling his eyes and quickly looking away, “I love Amy, but not like that..”

He doesn’t mention Shadow.

Shadow eyes him a moment before answering, “No. We aren’t courting one another.”

“‘Courting’,” Sonic snorts at Shadow’s fancy terminology.

“We just attend a lot of concerts together. We have a lot of the same tastes.”

Sonic can’t help but chuckle at that, “Sorry— it’s just funny imagining the Ultimate Lifeform jamming to Sabrina Carpenter and Taylor Swift.”

“I’m not the Ultimate Lifeform. You are,” Shadow corrects, and that gets Sonic’s attention. Emerald eyes dart over to crimson with a perplexed look at what he just said.

Shadow.. admitted to not being the Ultimate Lifeform?? That’s.. new.

“And either way, they make good songs,” Shadow continues before it can be dwelled on, “Their lyrics are profound and clever.”

Sonic just offers a small smirk and shrugs, “Can’t say I’ve ever really listened enough to properly process the words.”

“Then you’re in for a treat,” Shadow chuckles huskily, a chill going up Sonic’s spine. “Sabrina’s can definitely be.. interesting.”

Sonic decides not to ask what he means, looking forward to just seeing for himself.

He’s noticed a lot of children here, though, despite Amy saying the concert wasn’t age appropriate for Cream- who is now 13, and Tails who is 15. He wonders if these parents realize this and are just stupid, or if Amy is simply mistaken—

The lights dim and a large screen flashes on in the stadium, screaming erupting from all around as the show begins.

The bit is that Sabrina is running late, and when she comes rushing out with a towel wrapped around her only to slowly open it in a flashing style and reveal the shimmering bodysuit underneath, Sonic very quickly decides that yeah.

The parents are just stupid.

Amy is screaming and jumping up and down, Sticks seeming to be looking all around as though this would be the perfect time for some sort of attack.

Rouge is cheering and clapping too, Knuckles standing beside her watching with the same amount of confused intrigue Sonic is feeling.

Shadow is just smiling, standing and clapping at her entrance.

A mic is slowly lowered to her small frame, her height being shorter than most humans, Sonic notes—

Ohhh… ‘Short & Sweet’ Concert. Makes sense now.

Sonic watches as the entire crowd listens with baited breaths as the blonde holds the mic to her lips and sings,

“Oh I leave quite an impression..”

•••

The first song was alright. Typical song about a girl warning her ex’s new girl and shit. Amy is yelling the lyrics along with Rouge, the pink hedgehog bouncing while the bat sways to the beat. Knuckles seems to greatly be enjoying that more than the actual show. Sticks is still looking all around, but she’s moving to the beat as well, at least. Shadow is next to Sonic simply ever so lightly swaying to the music and nodding his head now and then. Sonic swears he detects humming from the guy at one point, but the crowd singing makes it hard to tell.

The song flows right into the second one, that one feeling far more energetic and upbeat to the point Sonic finds himself bouncing as well and letting loose a bit. If Shadow the Hedgehog can attend the concert with no remorse, so can Sonic.

These lyrics definitely are more explicit, dropping the f-bomb frequently. And much to Sonic’s astonishment and amusement, Shadow actually chants along to this one.

“I won’t give a fuck about you~—“ Sabrina will sing, turning the mic to the crowd for them to sing it back to her, which Shadow very passionately does.

“I WON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOU!”

“I won’t give a fuck about you~—“

Sonic watches with a laugh as Shadow leans down to Amy next to him, her standing on her toes in her heels to get in his face as well as they both aggressively and playfully yell “I WON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOU!”

It’s a rare day that Amy Rose curses, but it’s definitely a fun one.

Sonic even joins in on the chanting at the end, catching on pretty easily. Rouge is chanting it all sassy in Knuckles direction to which he just smirks and rolls his eyes at her while biting back his grin.

Sticks very much enjoys yelling explicits unabashedly as well.

The song ends and Sabrina properly addresses the crowd, welcoming them to her concert. The vibe is crazy in the place, girls screaming everywhere. Even Shadow cups his hands around his mouth and woops for her.

The next song is unexpectedly more southern styled than Sonic expects, a more acoustic-country sort of sound than the pop songs that came before. Like she’s saying welcome home to everyone.

Amy sings to this one rather than yelling, and Shadow sings now and then, too, singing some lyrics louder than others like ‘A boy who’s nice that breathes I swear he’s nowhere to be seen’ or ’Since the Lord forgot my gay awakenin’ Then I’ll just be here in the kitchen servin’ up some moanin’ and bitchin’.’

Sonic honest to Chaos can’t help but notice how passionate that ‘gay awakening’ line was from the hybrid.

Honestly, she’s really good. Her voice is strong and clear despite the choreography she’s performing, and the beat is catchy. He can see why she has a pretty damn good following. Hell. He may even start listening to her some more after this, who knows??

He definitely notices she’s a bit more.. how does he put this.. bold than other artists tend to be. She’s very comfortable with her sexuality if her movements and lyrics are anything to go off of. And with how much of a passionate and loving person Amy tends to be, it does shock Sonic one bit that she’s a fan of this girl. It’s right up her alley.

However, it does shock him Shadow is a fan. Shadow whom which Sonic swears will die a virgin. At least in his head.

But Shadow doesn’t seem at all put off by any lyrics or dancing. He seems almost to relate to them. And that throws Sonic off even more.

Or perhaps he’s simply reading too much into this. That’s probably it. He needs to relax and cut loose to have some fun and stop over analyzing his long term rival.

And as if reading his damn mind—

“You guys want a drink??” Rouge announces, slouching forward and wiggling the flask in her hand that she managed to sneak in somehow. Sonic does not want to know how.

Amy gasps and laughs with wide eyes, “Rouge, you’re so naughty!”

“It’s a Sabrina Carpenter Concert! Naughty is part of the experience~” she grins, already handing out little plastic shot glasses to the group. Filling them up one by one, they all wait until they each have one before counting to three.

Then they tip them back, downing them all in a single motion. Amy immediately wobbles a little as it hits her. Sonic himself bounces up and down and wiggles with a “Woo! That stuff’s strong!”

Shadow’s nose crinkles at the overwhelming burning in his throat, clearing his throat as Sticks coughs at the unexpected taste. Knuckles even has to cough a bit at the kick the shit has.

Rouge always has the craziest drinks, man.

Now nice and warm and tipsy, the next song begins and Amy squeals excitedly and shakes Shadow’s arm as she realizes which one it is. He just chuckles and grins as well, and Sonic feels like he’s definitely missing an inside joke or something but it’s fine. They’re having fun.

“He didn’t hold me in his arms. We didn’t stumble over the pages of our relationship arc. Ignoring tornado warnings..” Shadow is singing again. And Chaos— Sonic doesn’t try to overthink the lyrics, but Shadow sounds so earnest while he’s singing. Like he means it.

Amy’s head is resting on Shadow’s shoulder, singing along too.

“Don’t understand how quickly we get right back in our rhythm without missing a step. And logically the last thing I should have on my mind But I want you there sometimes..”

Sonic sways slowly to the song, but he keeps his ears perked at the words Shadow sings. His brow furrowed in thought as each lyric hits a little differently.

“I guess maybe that’s why I’m lying to my therapist. I keep saying things like, ‘I never saw him and we never kissed’.”

It’s just a song.

It’s just a song.

“Now I think somehow in my mind, if I could convince him, if he doesn’t see it, then maybe it doesn’t exist.”

It doesn’t mean anything.

“I think he’s onto me every time I say I’m over that son of a bitch. I’m lying to my therapist.”

The song ends and the crowd cheers, Shadow clapping as well as Amy lets out another scream. Rouge is cheering as well, her head rested on Knuckle’s shoulder and his arm is around her waist.

’So much for not being able to stand her,’ Sonic thinks to himself with a little snort. 

The stage lights change to that of a sunset, Sonic only just then realizing this entire concert is simulating a sleepover. They started during the day, now it’s sunset. His guess is night is next. Then morning. And that’s probably when she’ll sing about coffee!

Shadow likes coffee..

Why is he thinking that right now???

The next song is slower as well, Sabrina playing a guitar the first half. This one seems to hit Amy extra hard. And Sonic tries really hard not to overthink that as well. He knows he’s broken the girl’s heart in the past by denying her advances. But he does love her. She’s very important to him..

But like a little sister. Or a best friend.

And while she’s over him now and has accepted that, that doesn’t mean she’s not gonna still mourn that loss of a relationship she had made up in her head for so long. And rightfully so. Let her have her experience, he won’t shame her for it. 

That being said, when she screams out “The girl outside the strip club getting her tarot cards read, we love to read the cold, hard facts, and swear they’re incorrect!” he can’t help but feel a little bit like a piece of shit for being unable to requite the love she deserves. 

“You don’t have to lie to girls! If they like you, they’ll just lie to themselves!”

“And girls will lose their goddamn minds for you, they’ll cry and girls will lie and do it ‘till the day they die!”

Yeah. Piece of shit.

The song ends and Amy looks like she might have a few tears rolling down her cheeks from what Sonic can see of her. So with a guilty little smile, he taps Shadow’s shoulder with a sheepish, “Can I have her a minute?” to which Shadow looks Sonic skeptically up and down before hesitantly stepping back to allow Sonic to switch places with him. Sonic wraps his tan arms tight around his favorite girl, squeezing her in a big hug as she giggles and sniffles against his chest.

“I’m alright, Sonic,” she assures with a roll of her eyes, leaning into his hug nonetheless, “Just a bit emotional.”

“Love you, Ames,” Sonic responds simply and honestly, nuzzling the top of her head to which she just giggles some more and nuzzles back with a “Love you too, Sonic..”

Sonic glances up to see Shadow smiling at them, the blue hedgehog clearing his throat and letting her go as the next song starts to instead keep one arm swing around her shoulders and sway with her leaning into his side.

And just like that, Shadow is back to singing with his whole chest and being very distracting for Sonic dear Gaia—

“You’re good at falling, not the staying there. You’re good at the giving too much then getting scared.”

Amy holds onto Sonic’s side a bit tighter as Shadow sings this one along with their entertainer for the night, Sonic keeping his eyes on the singer rather than looking around lest he gaze at Shadow.

“But now I wonder why I let your confusion keep me up at night. I’m so tired. Re-read every single undertone and I overanalyzed it, front, back and beside it. Where else can we go? There’s nothing left to decode. Done lookin’ for signs in the gaps and the silence. It’s just getting old.”

Damn. These lyrics are heavy. Shadow was right, she’s definitely got skill as a writer. The words speak to people. And it’s obvious with how Shadow’s eyes are shut and he’s singing along so shamelessly. Like he’s pouring his heart out. Amy is singing as well, but not like Shadow..

This one hits Shadow hard.

And Sonic really wants to know why..

The song ends and sure as hell, the stage goes from sunset to near night with a red curtain and lighting. Sonic’s just feels more validated in his theory.

The next song feels more upbeat, and Sonic feels a bit of relief wash over him. He was starting to feel a bit bummed with all the lyrics being thrown around. Though he’s not sure why. It’s not like he’s the reason Shadow is singing with such sweet sorrow.

Still, the place needs something more upbeat, and Sabrina is certainly providing.

And boy is she providing.

She’s sprawled out on a bed, moving around very seductively.

The song is raunchy. Exclusively about hooking up with someone, Sonic is certain.

But it’s also incredibly amusing because Shadow actually turns on some sass. 

Amy is looking at Rouge and pointing at Shadow as she sings with her,

“Who’s the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent, like?”

Shadow just poses with his jacket, whipping his quills dramatically as Amy and Rouge sing, “Maybe it’s all in my head.”

Sonic laughs at this, Shadow chuckling as well, and everyone seems way more loose and silly again. Much more Sonic’s vibe.

What Sonic doesn’t expect is when the next verse starts, Shadow turns to him and starts singing along as if serenading Sonic. And the lyrics—

Oooo boy.

“Come ride on me— I mean camaraderie.” Shadow acts along, shaking his head as if correcting himself and continuing, “Said you’re not in my time zone but you wanna be.”

Sonic blinks wide at him as Shadow takes Sonic’s hand in his and dramatically clutches it to his chest as though making some sort of poetic love confession, “Where art thou, why not uponeth me?” Sonic shivers. Shadow points to his head, “See it in my mind, let’s fulfill the prophecy.”

And just like that, Shadow drops Sonic’s hand and turns right back to looking at the stage as he sings along to the chorus. Sonic is left very confused and very shook. His cheeks and ears are burning and his throat feels dry.

A lot of images are now in his head that he never expected to be there..

The rest of the song is the same vibe. Lustful and flirty and everyone seems to be vibing along with it. Rouge is practically serenading Knuckles whose muzzle is about as red as the rest of him at this point. He’s got his pink cowgirl hat tipped down as if to hide behind it all sheepish, his eyes only able to be seen by her.

Sonic is willing to bet they’re bedroom eyes. 

Speaking of! The song ends with a canopy closing around a bed on the stage and the silhouette of Sabrina and some random guy getting it on to which everyone screams at. Sonic even snaps out of his stupor to wolf whistle at the scene.

Everyone is laughing as the next song starts, though Sonic is still eyeing Shadow out of the corner of his eyes.

He’s never seen him like this, so it’s just so hard to look away. He’s so… free compared to the last he saw him. Unafraid to show emotion or feeling. It’s a good look on him.

But above all, he’s still thinking about Shadow taking his hand and quite literally asking why Sonic wasn’t ‘uponeth’ him.

That was.. interesting.

There’s a mini-show on the screen between songs and then a small dance number. Then it’s the bird song! Sonic doesn’t know the whole thing, but he knows the chorus thanks to it going viral so he can finally somewhat sing along to something!

The chorus hits and the entire group sings in unison.

“I feel so much lighter like a feather with you off my mind! Aahaahaahha!”

They’re all laughing into one another, dancing and bumping hips. Knuckles takes his hat off at one point and swings it around above his head all cowboy style to which Rouge grinds on his front in the process. Sonic laughs and hypes them up along with the others, Shadow rolling his eyes at them with an amused grin.

The bridge hits and they all do the little dance that’s been all over the Internet.

“I—“ they whip their heads and jut out their hips with all the sass they can muster, “slam the door, I—“ they flick their wrists, “hit ignore, I—“ they all slowly sink to the floor, Sonic swaying his hips as he goes, “say no, no, no, no more I—“

They all stand back up, Sonic facing Shadow now and pointing at him, “got you blocked, excited to never talk, I..”

Shadow chuckles out, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

They all laugh as they sing the chorus, jumping up and down and pumping their fists. Getting into it and having fun like the kids they are.

The next two songs are the same. Sonic particularly likes the song ‘Fast Times’, which is pretty on brand for him. Sabrina definitely is feeling herself on stage, as is his friend group. They’re all feeling a bit more wild and even take a few more shots here and there. Buzzing with energy and alcohol.

Amy definitely is enjoying her birthday.

Some more of the songs Sonic enjoys are ‘All Because I Liked A Boy’ and her surprise rendition of ‘Mamma Mia’. 

But when Nonsense comes on, he can’t stop himself from yelling in excitement right along with Amy.

He knows this one! Finally!!!

He’s gotta do more research before joining Amy at the next concert.

It’s like they’re damn rehearsed with how in sync their group is. The song reaches its bridge and they all mindlessly pair up. Knuckles and Rouge, Sticks and Amy, and Sonic and Shadow all face each other and do the silly TikTok dance that’s been everywhere—

“I’m talkin’ all around the clock, I’m talkin’ hope nobody knocks, I’m talkin’ opposite of soft, I’m talkin’—“

Without a single though and with all the drunken courage and hype in the world, Sonic spins around to grind his ass up against Shadow’s front as he sings “Wild, wild thoughts~”

Shadow’s eyes are huge when this happens, hands freezing up like he’s surrendering and immediately stopping singing along.

Sonic just bites his lip and spins back around to face him, putting one hand around his shoulder while moving the other as if to beckon Shadow to a challenge, “You gotta keep up with me, I got some young energy,” he’s dancing still, tail swaying back and forth seductively as he winks at Shadow, “I caught that L-O-V-E. How do you do this to me??”

And then he’s letting go of him, Shadow’s dark eyes still staring him up and down, but Sonic pretends not to notice as he keeps singing along with the song.

  “But I can’t help myself when you get close to me. Baby my tongue goes numb,” Amy leans over to Sonic, their backs pressing together as they laugh and sing, “Sounds like blehblehblee~” Moving their hands in a talking motion and giggling at each other. It’s fun. Energies are high and so is something else now.. Sonic can feel it. It’s been building for a bit now, and he’s been denying it out of shock but with how Shadow’s crimson eyes stay locked on him while he moves??…

There’s a sexual charge in the air now. Heavy and thick between them. Sonic keeps it playful, but there’s nothing silly about the way Shadow’s hand lightly brushes his hip while it moves or how his fingers graze his swishing tail. 

And while all this is building, the song ends and Sabrina starts another one. Now changed into a longer skirt that’s more elegant and singing a slowly song.

Shadow doesn’t sing this time.

But when the lyrics “You’re so sad, there’s no communication, but baby, you put us in this situation.”

Sonic glances over to Shadow to find him looking right back at him.

“You’re running so fast from the hearts that you’re breakin’..”

Sonic swallows hard, looking at him a long moment before quickly turning his gaze back to Sabrina on the stage. He likes the playful sexual tension a lot better than this feeling.. this one scares him.

Rouge has Knuckles arms wrapped around her from behind, holding her in a hug as they both sway side to side slowly and she sings along. Knuckles’ chin is resting on her head, a small smile on his face and his bedazzled cowboy hat all crooked on his head. Amy and Sticks have their phone flashlights turned on, raised above them and slowly swaying side to side as they sing along too. Shadow takes out his lighter— because of course the edgelord just has one on hand— and holds its flame up to sway side to side as well, gaze finally averting from Sonic and at last allowing the blue hedgehog to breathe. The song eventually ends, and the crowd cheers.

Another song doesn’t immediately begin. Rather Sabrina starts talking.

“Hey Central City.”

Everyone screams.

“It’s so stunning here. Every time I walk the streets here, I’m like— damn. What do they put in this water. Like. It’s obviously a lot better here on the East Coast than West, but it’s also really helped your genetics.”

Sonic laughs at this along with most of the audience. She’s actively flirting with her crowd and it’s comical. 

“Something I’ve been so lucky to encounter on my show so far is just some gorgeous faces.. and some crazy handmade outfits that are just— wow.”

Amy screams, proud of her own outfit as she bounces up and down.

“And I want to thank you all for taking the time out of your lives to put forth so much effort and just for being here. I can’t thank you enough.”

More cheering..

Then Sabrina is cupping her hand over her eyes and looking through the crowd. Sonic notices how Shadow huffs in an amused way, smirking as he watches. Amy looks like she’s waiting on bated breath. Something must be happening that Sonic’s missing..?

“Just let me take a look at yall..,” the singer hums, the crowd cheering as her gaze skims over each section..

Then it lands on theirs.

“Woah.”

Sonic’s eyes widen. Is she looking at them???

“Holy shit— damn, I think I just found my future last name here on the fifth row, oh my god- girls come here come here come here!”

Two backup dancers join her on stage, Sonic looking over to Amy to see her reaction to this and Amy’s own eyes look wide and hopeful. Like she’s about to lose her mind.

Sabrina returns near the part of the stage closest to them, pointing directly at them, “Heyyy fellas~”

The spotlight, sure as hell, shines right over them.

“I don’t have to ask for your names..”

The crowd screams as their entire group pops up on the screen of the concert, police sirens and lights suddenly flashing and blaring through the stadium. Sonic’s ears flatten at the loud noise, a small amount of panic setting in momentarily out of pure reaction. But Shadow doesn’t seem worried. He’s laughing and grinning and Amy is screaming and jumping hysterically, so-.. he assumes it’s fine and part of the show.

Sonic gives a small grin and little wave, everyone’s screams becoming louder in the venue.

“Didn’t expect to be graced with the presence of our world’s greatest heroes tonight,” the singer compliments, the crowd cheering as she runs her fingers through her hair all flirty and cute, “You guys enjoying the show??”

They all scream in response, Sonic cupping his hands over his mouth with a “Woooo!!” and Knuckles offering a wolf whistle and wink.

Shadow just claps with a smirk.

“I’m overwhelmed— I knew your group was beautiful, but I didn’t realize you were all so gorgeous, goddamn~”

Sonic just grins all confident, chuckling and giving his trademark smirk and wink to the camera which just makes the crowd scream harder.

No way they’re getting out of here walking. They’ll have to chaos control out to avoid this crowd.

“Something is happening to me- what are you guys doing to me,” she practically moans, “I’m getting so hot and—“ her skirt drops to reveal a miniskirt underneath, “and all my clothes are falling off!”

Everyone screams, Sonic’s eyes widening in surprise and then a laugh escaping him as Shadow chuckles and rolls his eyes at the hero’s astonished reaction.

Amy is still losing her mind, screaming things like “I LOVE YOU QUEEN” and “ARREST ME ARREST ME”.

And sure as hell, Sabrina pulls out some pink, fuzzy handcuffs that have Sonic’s emerald eyes following them. He shoves his hands at his sides and nods his head subtly towards Amy beside him, now realizing what’s happening. One of them is quite literally getting arrested. And if anyone should get the honor, it should be the birthday girl.

Sabrina seems to take this hint, walking towards the edge of the stage with them and crouching down to reach as far as she can before flawlessly tossing them right to Amy,

“I must handcuff you, they match you and everything.. Amy Rose~”

The crowd roars, Amy screaming as well as she slides them right on and lifts her handcuffed hands above her head and jumps up and down victoriously. The whole group laughs, their faces finally leaving the screens as Sabrina starts her next song.

“This one’s for you, babygirl..~”

Sonic has a feeling this one is gonna be spicy.

Sure as hell, the lyrics are full of talks of hot ass, good genetics, handcuffs, and hormones. Not to mention the entire song is alluding to her want to just be impregnated by some guy— in this case, Amy funnily enough. 

The beat is intoxicating, though, and Sonic’s fuzzy brain is enjoying just bouncing and bopping his head along. Him and Amy once again bumping hips as she sings, chuckling and feeling Shadow’s gaze watching them which only leads to Sonic meeting it and then moving his hips to bounce over and bump Shadow’s.

Shadow blinks at him at first before he gives a small smirk and ever so slightly begins bumping his hips to Sonic’s as well. Sonic just laughs and bounces between them, Amy giggling as well and still dawning her new pink fuzzy handcuffs.

“Wanna try out some freaky positions?”

Sonic watches as Sabrina runs up to the front of the stage, sinking to her knees and spreading her legs as she pulls her hair back with one hand and moves the mic in a very suggestive blow-job motion in front of her mouth, “Have you ever tried this one??”

The crowd has once again lost it, Sonic’s eyes widening and his tongue going dry at the sight. 

Yup. Not age appropriate. He definitely gets it now.

What really throws Sonic off is how Amy leans forward and across Sonic to playfully swat Shadow with a, “You have!!” laughing all half drunk and giddy. Shadow’s eyes widen, chuckling as he holds a finger to his lips and hushes, “Shhhh, Rose!”

But he can’t be offended on Amy’s birthday. Especially when she’s having so much fun.

Sonic on the other hand, looks absolutely scandalized. His gaze slowly turning to Shadow with his brows raised high above his head.

Shadow is still swaying to the beat, eyes watching Sonic now as they share a silent moment of communication.

Shadow just smirks and shrugs, turning back to the stage as if it’s no big deal.

Um— it’s a big deal!

Sabrina announces now that she wants the crowd to get on their knees with her now, everyone who is able. Amy is immediately on the ground, no second thoughts. Sticks looks skeptical, but she slowly moves down as well. Rouge does so slowly, her ass purposely grinding down Knuckles as she goes. Knuckles swallows and slowly follows behind her.

Sonic looks to Shadow to see if he’s doing it and what he finds is..

Oh sweet Chaos..

“Adore me..,” Shadow is singing, his eyes watching Sonic’s as he moves down to his knees painfully slowly. Sonic’s eyes are wide as he watches Shadow bow before me, “Hold me and explore me..” It’s like there’s no one else in the room for a moment, pupils blown and interlocked. Sonic’s lips are parted and his heart is pounding as he watches Shadow mouth, “Mark your territory.. tell me I’m the only only only only one..”

Sonic feels a pressure on the back of his leg, Shadow’s gloved palm slowly sliding around his calf and sliding up to the back of his knee..

“Adore me.. hold me and explore me..”

Sonic might be drooling. He’s not sure.

“I’m so fuckin’ horny..~”

Sonic moans. Absolutely involuntary and unexpected, a hand quickly covering his mouth when he realizes. His eyes are huge okay?? Shadow’s hand is up to the back of his upper thigh at this point, and Sonic thinks he’s gonna have to dismiss himself if Shadow keeps this up..

“Tell me I’m the only only only only one..”

Shadow is leaning dangerously close to Sonic’s crotch.. teasing.. crimson eyes half-lidded and looking up at the cobalt hero.

He knows what he’s doing..

“Now  everyone, let’s get up and dance!!!” Sabrina shouts out, and the entire crowd jolts up with a scream, nearly breaking the hypnosis Sonic was under.

Nearly.

Everyone is dancing like it’s the last thing they’ll ever do in their lives, but Sonic’s eyes are still watching Shadow as the hybrid slowly rises back to his feet and stares right back..

Sonic’s breath is shaky, Shadow is staring at him like it’s a damn challenge. No-… an invitation.

Sonic snaps out of it, clearing his throat and quickly turning to the group, “I’ll be back— gotta go take a bathroom break.”

They all nod, waving him off and not taking their eyes off the performance.

Shadow scoots back so Sonic can quickly brush through him towards the aisle and then the exit.

The line for the women’s bathroom is insane. But the men’s is near empty. Thank Chaos.

Sonic rushes inside, finding only a few urinals being used and most the actual stalls open. He clammers into one and locks it shut with a heavy sigh. Rubbing his hands back through his quills, Sonic closes his eyes and breathes. Tries to get that look out of his head. Those fuck-me eyes Shadow had been giving him..

Listening to the muffled concert outside, he hears the door open now and then as men come and go. For a moment, it’s silent in the bathroom outside his own breathing. He leans against the stall wall..

What is he doing?? It’s Shadow! Not someone who matters. 

Why is he getting under his skin like this?? Well- He’s always gotten under his skin, but-.. this is different. 

The door opens and he hears footsteps walk in, staying quiet so whoever it is can do their business then leave.

“Sonic??” 

Well shit.

Sonic holds his breath, hearing Shadow walk slowly towards the only closed stall.

Breathing out, he replies as casually as he can, “Give me a second to do my business, dude.”

Shadow huffs at this, Sonic can practically see his eyes rolling. 

“Are you alright??” 

“Uh..,” Sonic tries to play it off, “Yeah?? That’s a weird thing to ask when a guy is takin’ a—“

“I can see your feet, idiot,” Shadow grumbles, “I know you’re not actually using the bathroom.”

Sonic looks down at his feet that are very much sideways in the stall due to him leaning against the wall, groaning at his own stupidity before flushing the toilet he never used and unlocking the stall to come out. Shadow is standing there, sure as hell. Arms crossed with a furrow in his brow, but there’s a sympathetic sort of look in his eyes..

It makes Sonic uneasy.

“I was just finishing,” Sonic remarks, unwilling to admit to being caught.

Shadow huffs at this, “Right..”

Sonic walks past him, “All yours, pal. But it’s a little weird you wanted to specifically use the one my ass sat on—“

“Why’d you never talk to me at Rouge’s party??”

Sonic halts, turning to look at Shadow with confused eyes. 

“.. you wanna do this now??” Sonic asks with a little smirk, not letting his cool mask fall.

“Before the night ends and we go back to never speaking to each other,” Shadow answers, taking a few steps towards Sonic with his arms crossed.

“…You didn’t care.”

“What??” Shadow’s brows furrow now, looking confused as Sonic does.

“When I was dead.. for 6 months. Trapped on the Death Egg, being tortured.. you didn’t care,” Sonic explains with a sigh, shrugging his shoulders and averting his gaze. He keeps a casual smile, though, trying his best to seem unbothered by the heavy subject, “You never came and talked to me or checked on me. Just fought by me until the job was done.. and then you left.”

Shadow’s lips part at this, looking shocked by Sonic’s recollection of everything. 

“Of course I cared, you idiot, I-..,” Shadow pauses, seeing how Sonic just smirks a bit sadly at him and quirks a brow. The hybrid sighs at this, trying again, “I didn’t-.. I didn’t mean to make you feel as though I didn’t care, I-… I blamed myself..”

Sonic frowns now, looking at Shadow as he crosses his own arms, “What do you mean??”

“It was me who motivated Infinite into becoming the villain he was.. my bitterness and need to make everyone feel inferior to me is what led him to Eggman. And thus-.. your downfall..,” Shadow explains quietly, eyes looking at Sonic’s with shame. And oh.. that hurts Sonic somewhere in his chest.

It makes sense now.. why Shadow is so different. If he genuinely blamed himself for Sonic’s supposed death, it may have been enough for him to start trying to make some changes to himself and his life.. not be so condescending and isolated and instead be more open and accepting.

Sonic takes a small step towards Shadow, a hand reaching out as if to touch him only to stop himself and take it back with a frown, “…It wasn’t your fault, Shads.”

“I couldn’t face you,” Shadow continues regardless, “After what I had caused— my own copy had been one of the ones to take you down.. It was my doing. All of it. I had killed our greatest hero, and when you came back?? I couldn’t bear the thought of being the cause of something like that again..”

Oh Shadow..

“I was a liability. A threat- a danger to you and everyone else. My physical and genetic perfections were outweighed by something I had overlooked.. personality flaws,” he says simply, looking down now with an angered look. Not at Sonic, but at himself.

Sonic stays quiet, unsure what to say.. 

He knows Shadow. Arguing with him on it won’t change his mind.

“I never didn’t care,” Shadow eventually says, his eyes shutting a moment before returning to Sonic’s, “On the contrary, Hedgehog… I cared far more than you realized.. enough to walk away from all of it.”

Sonic’s brows knit at this, looking at him a long moment.

They stay like that. Staring at one another with heavy-burdened gazes and deep sentiment..

Sonic’s feet are moving before his brain is, reaching out to Shadow and cupping his cheeks in his hands to yank him right in.

Their mouths collide, rough and sudden and teeth clattering and lips bruised and—

It’s only a flash of a moment and then Sonic’s brain is catching up, immediately releasing Shadow and backing away with wide eyes and, “I’m sorry, I—“

Shadow isn’t having it, a hand grabbing Sonic’s waist and the other cupping around to the back of the hedgehog’s head to jerk him right back in.

This time the kiss is long. Hot and heavy and desperate, needy and rough..

Unspoken words in a mess of a kiss.

Sonic’s own hands move to slide up Shadow’s front over his shirt, one gripping at the fabric and the other sliding up to clutch Shadow’s chin as their heads tilt to maneuver the kiss deeper.

Eventually, air is a thing and Sonic has to pull away with a gasp only for Shadow to immediately shove Sonic back.

Sonic stumbles a bit, feeling worry creep in that Shadow was regretting this already—

Only to see Shadow digging in his quills for a red chaos emerald, pulling it out and shoving it into Sonic’s hands. They’re both panting. Both sloppy and shaky and way too pent up.

Sonic fumbles the emerald in his hand and looks at Shadow confused for a second only for Shadow to dive right into his neck and start licking and biting and kissing.

Sonic’s knees feel weak, his eyes rolling back with a shaky moan leaving his lips.

Shadow just growls in response, “Get us out of here.”

“Where??” Sonic very stupidly asks— his brain go brrr okay??

Shadow snorts against his neck, Sonic’s own lips curling up at the sound, “Your place, idiot.”

“Oh-,” Sonic’s eyes shoot open again, realization dawning on him as he nearly drops the emerald all over again once it does, “OH.”

He’s gonna get the Ultimate Lay.

Raising the emerald high above his head, he breathes out a very quick and anxious, “Chaos control-“

The two disappear in a flash.

[everythingisawayoflife]

OKAY LIKE TWO PEOPLE SAID I SHOULD SO LET ME TALK ABOUT THIS, its gonna sound like nonsense. Trigger Warning for discussions of Suicide, Self-Harm, Mental Health. Please read at caution cause I discuss a lot of sensitive stuff here.

So my scene analysis paper was exactly as it sounds, we watch a movie of our choice, and analyze it from our textbook, America on Film: 3rd edition. I chose Dead Poets bc it had been a minute since I’ve seen it and I also have seen it enough times to be able to analyze it. So I chose Neil’s suicide. a very chilling scene that when broken down, says a lot, for saying very little. so first lets get into the biblical allegory.

When we first see Neil, he opens his window and slowly puts his Puck crown on his head, like so:

This combines two major elements of the main biblical parallels at play: The Agony in the Garden and one of the major Instruments of the Passion, The Crown of Thorns. For those who have not grown up around Christianity/don't pay attention to it, here are some brief yet thorough definitions of the terms I just threw around:

Agony in the Garden: The night Jesus and his disciples spend in the Garden of Gethsemane where Jesus spends the entire night praying and wrestling with his inevitable crucifixion. Some scriptures add that he was sweating blood during this but it depends on which translation you read. The Agony really shows Jesus' human side and can best be seen in the musical Jesus Christ Superstar's most pivotal number, Gethsemane, which I've linked here.

The Passion: A collective name for the events leading up to Jesus' crucifixion. Essentially all of what Easter is. Passion's archaic definition is suffering.

The Instruments of the Passion: Notable relics and icons from the Passion. These include the Crown of Thorns, the cross itself, Holy Lance, Veil of Veronica, and more.

Anyway, the entire first part of the scene shows Neil, who moves slowly and deliberately. No one else in the entire house is awake and he has become one with nature, by opening his window and feeling the winter breeze. Neil bows his head, presumably IN PRAYER, before we cut to the next part. While Christianity has become decentralized in households across America, it was still very crucial in 1950s America, especially in WASP-y domains. So, it would be correct to assume Neil's family is Christian, especially of how Welton is structured (i.e. the main meeting hall is basically a chapel, they sing hymns, etc.).

Jesus Christ was crowned with thorns as a way of mocking him. He was put on trial because according to the Romans, he claimed to be a God, which because the Romans adhered to their set pantheon, it was considered sacrilege and blasphemy. Jesus only ever responded (again, depending on the translation), "You say that I am." So they wanted to mock his authority and placed that crown on his head. Neil is essentially mocking his own authority because the entire movie he has tried and failed to have authority over his own life. His father continuously shoots him down and refuses to listen until the final break when he tells Neil he is sending him to military school. For Neil, he believes it was foolish to think he could even persuade his father just a tiny bit. He expresses this from the moment we first meet Mr. Perry to the final argument.

Where Jesus wears a crown of thorns, Neil's crown is woven with what appears to be fruits and maybe flowers. Flowers and fruit have had sensitive and romantic connotations throughout all of history and are often represented in classic art and literature. Neil is making this sacrifice in the name of art. If you notice throughout the entire movie, anytime death is mentioned, the camera is focused on Neil. It is brilliant subtle foreshadowing and it eats me alive every time it happens. Neil knows what he is about to do. Robert Sean Leonard played this scene beautifully and I so badly want to discuss all of this with him.

Continuing on, we watch Neil make a silent descent down the stairs and he is entirely shadowed. This gives the audience the implication that we already see a ghost:

Neil needed theater like he needed breathing and when theater was taken away from him, his life force was gone. The whole of Neil already died. We see this resignation with his final line:

"I was good. I was really good."

Neil already views himself as dead. He speaks of himself in the past tense. So Neil walking silently through his house as if he were already a ghost is so haunting. I mentioned earlier that Neil knows what he is doing. In Christianity, suicide is considered a sin. We see this in The Divine Comedy, an Italian narrative written by author Dante Alighieri in the 1300s CE. In the first and most famous section, Inferno, when Dante and Virgil arrive in the Seventh Circle and come across those who have committed suicide where they have been turned into trees. The only exception to this is Judas Iscariot, who is being feasted on by a three-headed Satan. Now again, Judas dies two different ways depending on which biblical translation you read but typically the narrative is this:

Judas turns Jesus into the Sanhedrin for 30 pieces of silver and when he discovers Jesus is to be crucified, Judas hangs himself.

In Biblical times, despite suicide being marked as a sin, in Judas' case, because he wanted redemption from his bad act, it was viewed as an acceptable death. So for Neil, this suicide is a redemption for betraying his father. A small parallel, maybe even a bit of stretch, but it is there for me nonetheless.

Back to Jesus, Neil's descent down the stairs also parallels to the walk along the Via Dolorosa or the Way of Suffering. It is the path Jesus walked to his crucifixion, a long and arduous journey. The walk is about 2,000 ft (600 Meters in Metric) yet this is a man who has been beaten, starved, tortured, who was also tasked with carrying his own large wooden cross, but that's besides the point. It was a slow and painful walk and Neil's deliberate footsteps are exactly that. Skipping ahead, Neil finally arrives to his destination. The choice to do it in his father's office was absolutely on purpose. Neil comes back to the spot he emotionally died, the moment he lost everything. We get just a brief bit of hesitation for Neil. He fiddles with the key to his father's desk. He holds it gingerly and turns it over in his fingers a few times before reaching down to unlock the drawer with the gun. This goes back to the Agony in the Garden, which again, is best expressed in Jesus Christ Superstar's Gethsemane:

Why I should die?

Eventually, Jesus resigns himself to die:

Alright, I'll die! Just watch me die! See how I die!

Neil does not go silently. I don't know if I'm hallucinating or have really keen hearing, but I swear you can hear the tail end of the gunshot simultaneously as the dirge-like music cuts and Mr. Perry gasps awake. I might just be making that up but I don't know tbh. But anyway, while Jesus resigns himself, the following lyrics express frustration with God and the life that was already planned for him when he has a selfish sense to live. This song and musical really delve into the debate of how much human and God was Jesus Christ and it really opens the door for his human side. He expresses selfishness and a want to abandon his mission. He is hesitant to die. He is hesitant to die painfully. Like I said earlier, Neil hesitates ever so slightly.

Then I was inspired Now, I'm sad and tired After all I've tried for three years

Cause not only is God, well, y'know, GOD, he is also Jesus' father. A father who had planned out a whole life for his son and while his son goes along with it, he has a desire to live outside of that. Sound familiar? And I really am trying not to be sacrilegious or anything! I grew up in a Christian household but outside of that, theology has always interested me and I've learned to view it from an academic standpoint. As for my beliefs now, I'm still unsure, and I don't think I ever will be sure and I think that's okay. We're getting off topic, so let me get back on track.

The final time we see Neil alive is him sitting at his Dad's desk, gun wrapped in cloth with Neil gripping it:

He looks sure, with maybe just a flicker of sadness. The entire scene Neil has looked serene. And not like the calm kind of serene, the morose kind. Solemn, I think is a better word for it. Neil's soul has died. Neil is about to crucify himself and become a Dead Poet. He has fulfilled the purpose of the poets they read about in the Society. He lived life as full as he could only for it to be cut down so short. That's the tragedy of it: Neil had so much life to live and so much more to contribute to the arts. But Neil's father killed that passion, killed that love. Earlier in the film, Keating recites the Whitman poem, O Me! O Life! In summary, the poem essentially states that life itself is what makes life worth living. It's a question and answer poem. The speaker wonders what about life is worth living when it is full of constant suffering. They get an answer: life itself is. You being here on Earth and having an identity is what makes it worth it. Neil doesn't see that worth anymore. Life without the arts, his friends, Keating, is not worth living for him anymore. I really recommend reading that full poem, linked here, it is so gorgeous despite it being so short. That sweaty-toothed madman had a gift.

I think that's pretty much everything. There have been a MILLION think pieces on Todd and Neil's whole relationship (TLDR: those boys are GAY) so I didn't get into it here, mainly cause I wanted to focus on Neil and the real meat of my rambling, which was the Biblical allegory. I feel like I said a whole bunch of nothing and it might not make sense to me in the morning but it feels good to get it all out. I love this movie and I love Neil and I love Biblical allegory.

I also hope that this post communicates that suicide is not the answer! Please reach out if you have feelings that make you feel unsafe or need someone to lean on. My DMs are always open and I will leave the major crisis hotlines if needed.

988 - Suicide & Crisis Lifeline, call for support

741741 - Crisis Text Line, text TALK to speak to someone for support.

writing a final paper on dead poets society for my film class and my page limit is THREE?? WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CANNOT DELVE INTO THE QUEER SUBTEXT OF NEIL AND TODD’S RELATIONSHIP AND THE PARALLELS OF NEIL’S DEATH TO THE PASSION OF CHRIST BUT ALSO MAYBE JUDAS ISCARIOT’S DEATH??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN I DON’T HAVE ROOM TO DISCUSS THE CHRISTIAN IMAGERY??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CANNOT FURTHER DELVE INTO THE TRAGEDY OF NEIL’S DEATH AND THE IMPACT IT HAS ON EVERYONE AROUND HIM???

i need a Cigarette.

somebody let me write this essay. pleak.

[prolibytherium]

I'm a full supporter of criticism against car culture but I am also hopelessly addicted to Car. I literally love driving my car to various places and listening to music. Will intentionally take longer routes just to make it last. Wasting tons of gas money. Needlessly emitting CO2. Salting the earth beneath the thundering hooves of my Toyota Corolla. Highlight of my fucking day

[zoueriemandzijnopmars]

Me, reading my third Trojan war retelling this year: maybe this time Iphigenia and Hector won’t die

[inniave]

posting music is scary but i'm going to keep at it because otherwise i don't think i'll ever release anything at all and at some point i *do* want to actually put together a project For Realsies so i gotta get over my fear but damn this fears got hands 😭

[arionaleilani]

1. it’s my 24th birthday today, so my goal of being published by the time i’m 25 is now a one year looming monster, but i never specified what kind of published and am currently looking in various literary magazines that are recommended for writers who have yet to be published, so i’m surprisingly confident that i can make it work? and tbh even if whatever i write isn’t officially published before my 25th birthday, if i have someone in the process of being published then i’ll be happy!! no matter what though, i’m gonna try to be proud of myself for at least giving it my best shot!!

2. i honestly love that my birthday is on the ides of march because the ides of march meme shitposting is only a thing on tumblr but it also being my birthday makes it easier to like. be excited about the ides of march outside of tumblr. like even in person i can be like “it’s my birthday! i’m an ides of march babe (:” and if someone is like oh what’s that? or if they say something along the lines of oh like julius caesar? i can be like yep!! and even if it’s a small thing outside of tumblr it brings me immense enjoyment and amusement being able to bring it up off of tumblr

3. transportation situation has been very rough since june 2023 when i totalled my car, my gap insurance are being assholes and i ended up putting my foot down on the phone with them yesterday which i’m pretty proud of because i am NOT a confrontational person (something i’ve been working on this past year, so seeing some improvement with my ability to hold my ground and not be a pushover yesterday was very cool!!) i was told i’d get a response from them by friday next week no matter what, and if i don’t then friday of next week i will continue to wreak havoc upon them. but my moms car which i’ve been using since my accident broke down yesterday, hopefully it’s fixable but my parents were saying it might be done for, so trying to think of how i’m gonna get to work next week is kind of stressing me out lmao, but for now i’m just gonna focus on enjoying my birthday the best i can because i don’t want to start off being 24 with an overwhelming anxiety for something that won’t be a potential issue until monday. plus i already messaged my boss today to let her know that i’m going to do everything i can to make it work out but just so she’s in the loop and knows of the potential of me not being able to make my morning shifts (one of my coworkers said she’s more than happy to give me a ride for our afternoon shifts which does help relieve some of the stress!) and i told her i’d let her know for sure sunday so that if necessary she can have time to figure out someone to fill in for me in the mornings!

overall: life is weird and i ended being 23 yesterday with a shitty situation but a positive outlook and i am going to enjoy my first day of being 24 no matter what because honestly i fucking earned it. happy friday everyone, i hope it’s a good day for you and me both!

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: May 29

“Evil Like Me” by Kristin Chenoweth & Dove Cameron for Disney's Descendants OS