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starwovenkiss · 1 month ago

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Sleep Tight, Soldier

The 5 times you and Kyle accidentally fall asleep next to one another + the 1 time it’s on purpose.

content: female reader, explicit smut (18+ MDNI), slowburn romance, childhood friends to lovers, dual pov, fluff, angst, grief of a loved one,light depictions of PTSD/trauma, emotional vulnerability

word count: 15.2k

a/n: this started as a drabble that quickly spiraled out of control. i don’t know what else to say other than if you read this whole thing, ily ♡

also for anyone doing the math: technically, kyle is canonically 24 in MWII (per Activision) and somehow also 34 (per the game). i’ve decided to split the difference and go with his wiki birthday: 1993. trying to make the canon timeline work gave me a literal migraine and age is just a number. i love him either way.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ───

October 11, 1999 - 01:36 A.M.

Kyle looks up from his football just in time to spot two wide, curious eyes peeking over his backyard fence.

The sun beams down on his back, and he’s still getting used to the fact that he can go outside to practice football whenever he pleases. It was so different from the gray skies that seemed to permanently haunt London in the springtime, so when he looked up at the clouds to examine if the sky could really be that blue, he wasn’t expecting to see a girl with messy hair and a bright smile staring straight at him.

He had known that there was a girl his age who lived next door, had caught small glimpses of you while you went on walks with your parents, but had never had the chance to speak to you until now.

“‘Lo,” he mumbles. He hears his father in his head, guiding him to speak louder and stand up straight so he tries to follow the direction. Tries to appear older than he is at six years old.

“Hello!” You giggle, and suddenly, he sees the rest of you, sitting on the edge of the nearly five-foot fence separating the two backyards. He briefly wonders how you managed to get all the way up there, and if American kids had some sort of superpower climbing skill that British kids just aren’t aware of. Before he can test this theory on his own climbing skills, you’ve already done a crawl-shimmy-jump down the fence and landed with a flair that only a six-year-old could when jumping into a pile of dirt.

He takes the time to examine his new neighbor with the flushed skin and polka dot dress and scraped knees (’no doubt from climbing other kid’s fences,’ he thinks). You’re the picture of Americana, down to the melting red, white, and blue Bomb Pop you carry in one hand and a Barbie in the other. Kyle does notice, a little bitterly, that you are a few inches taller than him.

“What’s your name?” you ask, a toothy smile on display, and Kyle begins to shuffle his feet when he sees your bright grin up close. He fights the urge to turn away, feeling a similar way to when he looks at the sun for too long.

“Kyle. What’s yours?”

You tell him your name, and Kyle smiles. It fits, all sunshine and bubbly, the way you seem to be. Kyle’s about to ask if you want to play when you pause from eating your popsicle to stick a hand on your hip like you’re sizing him up — and Kyle has no idea what you’re looking for.

“You talk weird,” That’s …. not what Kyle was expecting, and is a little ironic. Yes, he does have an accent, but you do whistle while you speak on account of your two missing front teeth.

“No, I don’t,” he argues back.

“Yes, you do,” you determine with that huge smile, seemingly unaware that your insistence is causing his brow to furrow and his fists to clench.

“I do not!” he huffs. He almost stomps his foot, but quickly remembers that he is supposed to be acting more …. grown up in this situation.

You shrug and turn around, taking this as a cue to examine his backyard. You carelessly toss your Barbie next to the side of the fence you landed on, taking in the green grass and tall pine trees that surround the yard.

As you continue to skip around the perimeter of the yard, Kyle takes the time to examine you. He’s never seen someone his age be so sure of themselves, so certain of how everything should be in the world.

“Do you play soccer?” you ask, and it takes Kyle a beat to register what you’re saying, so lost in his thoughts.

“Soccer?” he questions and you point to the ball at his feet like he might be a little stupid.

“You mean, football?” he clarifies, and you laugh, running over to hand him your sticky, melting popsicle.

“See, you do talk weird!” you grin and move to kick the ball from his feet.

Kyle hesitates, heading to the trash to toss the mess you gave him. He shakes his head as he goes. He talks like Mum and Dad, and they don’t sound weird to him. So why would he?

To his amazement, when he turns around, you’re carelessly kicking his football around, chasing after the ball, and sometimes pausing to cartwheel in between as if you’ve forgotten what you’re doing. He’s never seen anyone play so…. wildly.

“What are you doing?” he asks, watching as you skip after the ball.

“Playing soccer!” you smile, and Kyle fights the urge to shake his head again.

“That’s not how you play soccer! You clearly don’t even know what you’re doing,” he says like he’s some expert, so confused by the way you’re running that he doesn’t even notice that he calls it the American name.

“That’s not true. I play on a team with my friends and I was voted best player.” For the first time since meeting you, you don’t have a smile on your face. Your brow furrows and you look at him disappointed. Kyle doesn’t really believe the best player story, but he can sense that he’s on the verge of hurting your feelings so he changes the subject.

“What if we play something else?” he suggests. That seems to appease you and you brighten again, back to the smiley joy he didn’t realize he was already used to.

“Sure! I have my favorite Barbie doll with me, but I don’t know where I put it!” Your brow furrows again as you turn wildly to find where you tossed your Barbie.

It’s at that moment when Kyle steps back to give you some space, he hears a crack that sounds suspiciously like a Mattel doll being fractured in two. Kyle freezes, hoping that if he doesn’t move any further, you won’t notice the fractured Barbie underneath his right cleat.

You turn to him with a glare in your eye.

‘Oh no,’ Kyle thinks to himself.

♡ ♡ ♡

When you open your eyes, Kyle’s nose is about two inches away from yours, and his chest rises and falls slowly and steadily. You cross your eyes to count 35 freckles scattered across his cheeks and chin. Most annoyingly, he is currently cuddled up with your teddy bear that you insisted on bringing to this sleepover.

After a very dramatic Barbie funeral, you reluctantly accepted that Kyle wouldn’t be going back to London (it took stealing your brother’s encyclopedia and two very long conversations with your Mom to understand that you can’t just deport a six-year-old for Barbie homicide - no matter how justified it feels.) So you’ve decided to try and befriend him, mostly because your mother says you have to.

It hasn’t been going well.

Kyle warmed up to you quicker than anyone expected, and somewhere between April and October, the polite British boy you first met was replaced by a full-blown menace.

Every time you try to play house in the backyard, he chases you with frogs. You give him daisy-chain flower crowns; he shoves mud pies into your hands. You want to pick sunflowers, and he’s more interested in running wild with your older brothers and playing “football” as he calls it.

As far as you can tell, Kyle has little to no interest in being your friend, and frankly, you’d be okay if he stayed on his side of the backyard forever.

Which leads you to this predicament.

You two, at another kid’s sleepover, are stuck sharing a sleeping bag, and he is hogging both the blankets.

When one of the other kids forgot their sleeping bag, everyone figured that since you and Kyle were being raised like siblings at this point (and fought like it too), there was really no issue with you two sharing.

You actually had fun for most of the night, painting ghosts and smiley faces on your pumpkin, sneaking extra candy, and laughing with the other kids — until one jumped out from around the corner and tossed a rubber spider on you.

The weirdest part of all is how Kyle had been acting. You had expected him to laugh along with the others when you screamed at the spider, but he pushed the kids aside, mumbling “It’s really not that funny.” before pulling you with him.

After that, he was weirdly nice the rest of the night — he even snuck you the last sugar cookie, even though it was his and you’d already had one.

Despite his kindness earlier, Kyle doesn’t really understand the concept of sharing— at least, not when it comes to sleeping bags — and you watch irritably as he gets more and more comfortable under the blankets as the room gets chillier.

You tug, and he tugs back. And you’re seconds away from losing your mind before he begins to blink, slowly coming to.

“What are you doing?” Kyle asks, rubbing his eyes blearily, and for a moment, you see Kyle as his real age. You know he tries to act older and more mature, a product of his father's upbringing and all, but it’s rare to see him so childish unless he’s tormenting you. You secretly wish he would act more like a kid, even if it means it’s at your expense.

“You kept stealing the blankets,” Both of you aren’t whispering, not really understanding how to be quiet, but you do see another kid turn over and quickly put a hand over Kyle’s mouth.

Kyle looks at you bewildered, and you fight the urge to laugh. When the other kid finally settles, you remove your hand as both of you break out into silent giggles.

He seems to finally notice that he has taken over the entire sleeping bag, and shuffles to give you some more blanket space. His skin burns slightly red as he wordlessly hands you your teddy as well.

”I’m sorry,” You’re not entirely sure what he’s apologizing for, since they’re just blankets and you’re almost 90% sure you probably kicked him in your sleep, but it seems important to Kyle, so you decide to hand him back your teddy bear.

He smiles as he gets comfortable, and soon, his breathing evens out next to you, falling back into those slow and steady rises, and you let yourself relax too.

It wouldn’t kill you to be nice to Kyle for a night, either.

So, you simply pat his shoulder and turn to the other side.

Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind Kyle sticking around for a while.

♡ ♡ ♡

July 28, 2005 - 11:42 P.M.

“Kyle.”

That can’t be right. Kyle’s solving an equation he can’t quite remember the formula for. That’s not what confuses him, though. It’s you, sitting next to him like you belong there. He doesn’t understand why since you have language arts when he’s in maths, but there you are, staring at him urgently. He wants to respond and ask why you’re here, but instead, he focuses back on the algebra problem in front of him.

“Kyle!” Your whisper comes across more urgently and he whips his head to you, trying to figure out what it is that you could possibly want. You sound annoyed, which is common in conversations with him, but there’s something more. He feels a slight breeze and wonders why you’re leaning towards him before a blunt punch in the arm jerks him awake.

“Ow,” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing at his arm, already sure there’s a bruise here.

“You sleep like the dead,” you respond matter-of-factly, upside down over his head as he wakes up. Kyle knuckles his eyes slightly, trying to adjust to his surroundings, quickly realizing that he’s not actually in his year six maths class, but still at the summer camp your parents shipped you both to every year since you were seven.

“_____,” he hisses, sitting up to look around him. “You’re not even meant to be in here.”

The rest of his cabin mates seem to be asleep, unaware of the girl standing at the edge of his bed in a strictly boys-only cabin, and for a moment he worries that his counselor will walk in and catch you two.

He stands up, ready to walk you out the door until he really looks at you.

Your eyes are glassy, tears streaking your cheeks in the moonlight, and Kyle forgets about getting caught. You’re crying, and that makes his stomach twist worse than any trouble could. He knows that camp had been rough for you this year — your braces are just the latest thing. Every week, Cassidy Shelton finds something new to pick apart.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“You’ll laugh at me.”

“I’d never laugh at you.”

“Even when I fell down during the pep rally?” You raise a brow at him, and even though he tries to stop it, he does snicker at the memory. You laugh quietly as well, before rubbing at your cheeks to wipe your tears away, and Kyle’s heart sinks even further.

“C’mon, let’s go for a walk,” He suggests, already grabbing his jacket. He notices you’re holding his blanket, and grabs it to tug you slightly towards him.

“We can’t leave. That’s against the rules,” You hiss, eyes wide with terror. He holds back a laugh, knowing that the two of you are already pushing it with the amount of noise you’re making and someone is bound to wake up soon for a midnight pee or something. Only you would break into a boy’s cabin, breaking the biggest rule of all, but be terrified by a midnight walk.

“No worse than you sneaking into the boys' cabin, is it?” He shrugs, already headed to the door. If it wasn’t for the midnight quiet, he would’ve missed the barely audible whisper of ‘I just wanted to talk to you.’

The darkness in front of you seems to stretch for miles only illuminated by the tiny sliver of the moon above. The earth is slightly damp beneath your feet as you follow Kyle further through the campsite.

You don’t know where Kyle’s taking you, but you trust him — just like you trusted him enough to climb through the window of Cabin B in the first place.

He’s been a constant in your life for the past six years, and you’re unsure where the shift from childhood neighbors turned into tween best friends. You’ve never had to wonder where you stood with Kyle — he just showed up.

Lately, you’ve needed that loyalty more than you’d like to admit.

Cassidy’s been relentless all summer, never far away with a comment or a look. She made fun of your swimsuit during pool day, made a joke about your retainer when the boys were around, and “accidentally” left you out of the cabin photo.

But today, she made sure to taunt you in front of the entire cabin, everyone crowded in the bathroom to get ready for bed.

“The braces help, seriously” she says, brushing out her hair in long, perfect strokes. “At least now you have a feature people will notice before your nose.”

You tense, trying to rush through brushing your teeth so you can crawl into your bunk where she can’t bother you.

“I mean,” she sighs wistfully, like she’s offering life-changing advice. You know better, know that what comes next is nothing but the punchline to one of her cruel jokes. “You’re just so lucky you’re funny. Some guys like that more than looks.”

A few girls snickered, and that had been the final straw. You felt the need for comfort, missing home more than usual and your feet found there way to Kyle like they always did.

There’s a slight breeze that tickles the ends of your hair, and the crickets slowly fade into a melody in the background as you realize that Kyle is leading you toward the lake. You cross your arms at the chill in the air, and Kyle turns to frown down at you. He’s gotten so tall since the beginning of the summer, and you know deep down that he’s happy he no longer has to look up at you anymore.

He stops in front of you, shaking you out of your thoughts as you almost run into him. He sets his blanket down next to the canoe racks, and you smile. The first summer you spent here, you and Kyle had accidentally capsized a canoe after arguing over the correct way to steer. The next day, the counselors made you both sit out, and you spent the whole hour just talking. It’s become one of your favorite spots to hang out at between activities since.

He sits down and looks up at you, eyes searching yours. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head, already feeling kinda childish and guilty that you had dragged Kyle out of bed to comfort you. He has always seemed so mature, and even now, you feel unsophisticated as you clumsily move to sit down next to him. Where you had been teased and picked on this summer, Kyle seemed to blossom over the past few weeks, breaking records for the fastest time in rock climbing and always being first to be picked in dodgeball.

Everyone wanted to talk to him, and no one seemed to understand why he was always so content to just hang out with you.

Kyle’s silent, and you wish for a second that you could know what’s going on inside his head. You turn to look at him but find that he’s already staring at you, and you both quickly look away.

”Look, you can see Orion tonight.” You look over at him and follow where’s he pointing to the brightest constellation in the sky. He lies down on his back, and you follow his lead, both of you gazing up toward the night sky. “And there’s Andromeda.”

You try to look up to where he’s pointing, but can’t make out the shape. Your hand brushes his as you point upward.

”Where?” you ask, and he grabs your hand, tracing the outline of the shape in the stars. You pause, taking in the fact that you’ve never seen so many at once, before quickly realizing that Kyle is still holding your outstretched hand, and both of your faces burn as he quickly drops it.

”How do you know all this?” Kyle shrugs the best he can while still lying down to your question.

”We learned about it in science class a few months ago, and I thought it was interesting. I read some books from the library, too. They all have these crazy stories behind them. Like Andromeda. She was like…brave or something. And Orion’s a hunter.”

Kyle begins to get excited as he starts to ramble, and you smile. Not only is he great at sports, but he’s also one of the smartest people in your grade, and loves to show off whenever he can.

”That’s Ursa Major, and there’s Ursa Minor. They’re both the bears. And that one’s…. well, I forgot the name, but it’s the prettiest one. And it’s always right there. Like you.” Kyle stops talking so fast it knocks the breath out of you. Your head spins.

You’re not sure what you expected him to say, another fact, maybe a joke, but definitely not that.

You feel Kyle squirm next to you, clearly mortified, and you’re certain that if you turned to him, his face would be flushed from the heat of his unexpected confession - if you could even call it that.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him trying very hard to keep his gaze fixed on the stars, like maybe if he doesn’t look at you, the words won’t count.

And somehow, that makes you smile.

You’ve never even thought of Kyle that way— sticking to daydreaming about boyband members and teen actors, so you don’t know why your pulse keeps stuttering at his revelation. It’s Kyle, and you know the girls in your grade are already starting to become interested in him, have already started whispering about who he might ask to the seventh-grade dance next year and how they hope it’s them.

You wonder how Cassidy would react if Kyle accidentally compared her to the prettiest constellation in the galaxy.

”You shouldn’t let what they say get to you,” he whispers, and you find that he’s looking at you this time.

”Who?”

”Cassidy and them. I don’t know why you care what they think. You’re way cooler than them.” He stares at you intently, and now it’s you who has to look away, who focuses intently on the constellations above instead of the boy next to you.

”Thanks, Kyle,” you sigh, moving to get more comfortable. All of a sudden, you feel exhausted—the day finally catching up to you. Kyle grabs his jacket, draping it over you.

“You’re way cooler than them too,” you mumble, and from the corner of your eye, you see Kyle smile.

The rippling of the water and the cricket sounds slowly lure the both of you to sleep until the next morning when your counselors find you hidden after spending the past hour freaking out over two missing campers.

You both get dish duty for a week. But at least you’re together.

♡ ♡ ♡

April 7, 2010 - 12:57 A.M.

Kyle feels like his black bow tie is choking him, and for what feels like the thousandth time that night, he tugs at the collar of his tux. He’s not sure if it’s the collar that’s making it hard to breathe, or if it’s just you.

Sweat beads lightly on his forehead as he forces another bright smile under the camera flashes.

”One more! Do not make that face, Kyle! It’s only one more picture. I just can’t believe how big the both of you have gotten,” his mother coos, sentences trailing over one another in her excitement. You’re applying a fresh coat of lip gloss as your mum fixes your gown, and Kyle can’t stop looking.

It’s the night of your senior prom, and Kyle originally had no plans on going. But after your date stood you up, he grabbed the black suit from the back of his closet to accompany you on the night you had been looking forward to for the past year.

And Kyle had always known you were beautiful.

He just didn’t know it could make his chest ache the way it does now.

Up until now, Kyle thought he’d seen you in every outfit imaginable. But the blush pink gown wraps around you like a whisper, like you might break if the wrong hands touch you. His throat dries as your glossy lips catch the light as you press them together to smooth everything out. You seem to glow, an outright supernova that somehow made its way to Earth, a divine cosmic intervention that Kyle could only count himself as lucky to experience.

He knows he’s being dramatic, but when you look over at him, eyes bright and smile wide, he feels like he could write a sonnet about you just like he learned in English.

He makes himself keep his eyes on yours, even as the slit of your gown sways closer with every step. He thinks the lights are making him delirious because he swears you float to him in a cloud of tulle and shimmer.

”Okay, one more, and that will be the last one, Beth,” your mother chides, guiding you to stand next to Kyle. He looks down at you, at how you now barely reach his chin, even in your strappy high heels.

”How much do you want to bet this isn’t the last one?” You mutter under a beaming white smile, and for a second, Kyle sees the same six-year-old who once crawled over his backyard fence.

He shakes his head, pulling you closer to him. It takes everything in him not to breathe you in and hold you tighter.

Kyle hasn’t left your side all night.

Which is normal for Kyle. You two won “Class Inseparables” for a reason, but what isn’t normal is just how clingy he’s being.

Kyle had spent the year making it extremely clear that he didn’t want to go to prom, and while he didn’t outright say it, you know that with the recent death of his father, he’d much rather stay at home and do…… whatever it is that Kyle wants to do.

You had struggled to be there, as he shut you out more and more while dealing with his grief. You blamed yourself for not knowing the right things to say, what to do, and most of all, feeling like nothing you did was ever enough to show him he wasn’t alone. It was just something he had to work through on his own, and you made sure to always be a shoulder for him when he called.

So when your mother found out that your date canceled on you last minute, she spoke to Kyle’s mother, and the both of them decided that it would be good for the two of you to go together — one last adolescent celebration before you two fully entered adulthood.

And although you hate to admit it, they were both right. You couldn’t have imagined spending the night any other way, dragging Kyle through all the cliches of photobooth pictures and slowly dancing to pop songs. His laugh infectious as he clumsily dips you to the floor, almost dropping you in the process.

So when the two of you made it to an afterparty, you were surprised to not see him next to you as you exited the living room barefoot to the backyard deck. Already buzzed on a few drinks, your head pounds to the bass of the song blaring and you welcome the muffled quiet you get as you shut the door behind you, heading to the railing to look up to the sky.

Only a few moments later, you hear the sliding glass door open, and without looking, you know Kyle has found his way back to you.

“I can’t believe this is it,” you whisper, eagerly welcoming the bottle of water Kyle slides your way. He takes a sip from his own, and as you dazedly watch him swallow, you notice that he ditched his bow tie somewhere between the limo and the shot of Smirnoff you took with your friends. The first few buttons of his dress shirt are unbuttoned, and he looks more relaxed than you’ve seen him in a long time.

“What’s it?” He questions, and you smile at his accent creeping through. In addition to class inseparables, Kyle also won the senior superlative for best accent (a category you’re almost certain they created just for him), and to this day, you don’t know how he maintained it despite living in America for most of his life. A part of you thinks it’s due to the yearly trips to England he takes with his family, and another part thinks that it’s just the way it’s meant to be because he wouldn’t be Kyle without it.

“I mean, we’re done. No more high school,” you sigh wistfully. The big decision of ‘what’s next’ seems to loom over everyone’s head as graduation creeps even closer. You had already committed to a college for the fall, but Kyle had kept unusually silent about his decision on what to do next. You tried not to pry, knowing that he was already dealing with more grief than anyone your age ever should, but it worried you that he didn’t have a plan, and a tiny voice in the back of your head won’t stop whispering he’s keeping something from you.

“I thought you, more than anyone, would be glad to be done,” he laughs, taking another sip of his water.

You suppose that’s true, school had never really been your favorite. But the thought of leaving Kyle to go out of state? You’re not sure how to feel about it. He’s always been a fence away, and your hands begin to twitch as you’re suddenly overcome with a weird urge to hold his hand.

You don’t know what to call your feelings for Kyle. If anyone ever insinuates that there could be anything more between you two, you almost immediately deny it. Tell everyone and anyone who can hear that “he’s just a friend, more like one of my brothers than anything else,” but late at night, in the wee hours when you feel the darkness can hide any thought you’re too scared to say aloud, you entertain the idea of ��what if?’

You had tried - once in ninth grade because everyone said that’s what two people with “chemistry” like yours were supposed to do, but Kyle had too much of a crush on an upperclassman girl to focus on you properly and you had always felt like your “dates” felt too much like hanging out as friends to ever take it seriously.

But now at the cusp of adulthood, you’re beginning to see Kyle as something more, and it terrifies you slightly.

“Of course, I’m happy to be done. But I don’t know what I’m going to do without you next year,” you admit, softly, the truth coming out before you can bottle it back down. “I mean, you’re my best friend, Ky. Promise you’ll come visit me next year?”

Kyle doesn’t look at you, letting out a heavy sigh.

”Of course, I’ll visit. It’s just-” He stops himself, running a heavy hand through his hair, and looking up towards the sky. Your heart begins to beat faster, trying to anticipate what he’s not saying, and for once, you wished Kyle spoke as carelessly as you did instead of watching every word to make sure he never said the wrong thing.

“What is it, Kyle?”

He takes another drink of water, fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt before turning to you with his full attention, staring you deep into your eyes.

”I’m moving back to London at the end of the summer. I’m going to enlist in the military.”

You recoil at that bombshell. You know you shouldn’t be that surprised; Kyle’s dad was in the military himself, and with everything that’s happened, it makes sense that he’d want to follow in his footsteps.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You hate how selfish you sound, knowing that it’s not about you, and the edges of the room start to blur as you try to catch your breath.

”It was just never the right time, and I couldn’t figure out how. Plus, you were so stressed about college applications that I didn’t want to add that on to everything else you were dealing with.”

You try to see how that logic would make sense to him, but as the timeline catches up to you, you start to realize that you have a little over 100 days until Kyle is almost 4,500 miles away from you.

Your heart begins to beat even faster.

You want to be happy for him — proud, even. Because of course, Kyle would do something so brave and selfless. But your stomach churns as you think about everything he’s still carrying and whether running towards something like this will really let him outrun his grief.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” You murmur, eyes burning as you slide down the railing to sit on the deck.

”Don’t do that, love. You’re going to get your pretty dress all dirty.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes because only Kyle could be focused on the state of your appearance while you’re on the verge of falling apart. “C’mon, let's go inside.”

He leads you through the crowded living room, ignoring the whistles and cheers as he takes you down the hall to find an unoccupied spare bedroom.

As soon as the lock clicks, you lay face down on a scratchy pillow, a violent sob racking your body.

You feel the bed dip as Kyle sits beside you, gently stroking your back until your tears quiet. You wonder if he thinks you’re being melodramatic about this situation, if his leaving is as big a deal to him as it is to you. You count down every moment you two have spent together, and wonder if he’s done the same since he’s decided to enlist, if he’ll cling on to the same memories that you will a year from now.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” you whisper. You don’t want to say it, not wanting to ruin this momentous decision with your own emotions, but you feel him slipping away, and selfishly, you want to hold on as tight as you can without letting go.

“I know this can’t be easy for you either… but I just — God, I don’t know how I’m going to do this without you,” you sniffle slightly.

”I’m going to miss you more, darling,” he whispers back, moving to lay beside you. He cuddles up behind you, holding you tightly, and the comfort of having him near you is enough to calm you down. You lay in silence for a few moments, letting the sounds of the party outside drown out every fear you’re not ready to name.

“Y’know, when we were six, I wanted you to move back to London,” you laugh, and he snorts too.

”Did you? Why was that?” his embrace softens, and you begin to feel quite tired as the heat from his body envelopes you.

”You broke my Barbie and made fun of my ‘football’ skills,” he laughs at the exaggerated posh accent you put on before you continue- ”As far as I was concerned, you were enemy number one.”

“How lucky am I,” he drags, sarcastically. “that I changed your mind to keep me here.”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” you murmur, your voice small now. “Because now I don’t want you to go.”

He stiffens slightly before relaxing into you more.

And just like that on a borrowed bed in your formal wear, you reckon with the fact that this is the last night of your childhood.

You grab Kyle’s hand and drift off to sleep.

♡ ♡ ♡

November 28, 2014 - 3:19 A.M.

Kyle hasn’t seen you in two years, and yet here you are, sitting in front of him in the tiniest black dress he’s ever seen in his entire life.

Both of you are crammed into a booth in a dark, sticky club, and he tells himself it’s the bass of whatever EDM track is rattling the walls that’s making his head spin — not the way your chest presses together when you lean over to grab your drink.

He takes another sip of his own. You’re spending the summer interning at a finance firm in London, and Kyle secretly hopes they’ll offer you a job after graduation — just so you’ll have a reason to stay. Which is how you found yourself out with him and his friends to celebrate their first deployment going so successfully.

They’d started the night at a proper pub; pints, darts, and all — much to your confusion when you showed up like you were headed to a rooftop in Miami.

“What are you wearing?” He asks, eyes scanning over the smokey makeup and sky-high heels that stood outside of the door of his flat. “You do realize we’re going to a pub, yeah? Why the dress?”

“You said we were going to a bar.” You push him to the side since clearly he wasn’t going to move to let you in, and toss the oversized leather jacket you were wearing onto his couch without a second glance. “This is what you wear to bars.”

Kyle’s almost positive he didn’t say that, any American slang, wiped from his vocabulary since moving back to the U.K., and despite growing up together, he still isn’t sure how the two of you manage to miscommunicate.

You turned to him then, lips already pouted, eyes bright with mischief as you looked him up and down.

“What, you don’t like it?”

The problem is Kyle likes what you’re wearing a little too much which is how he found himself in a basement club in central London. You had gotten along well enough with a few friends he made while away, gleefully sharing embarrassing stories with his new military friends (“Kyle, mate, why didn’t you tell us you used to do ballet?” “Piss off, I was like seven.”). So, when you light up at the suggestion of going dancing, staring at him pleading when his friend, Elliott, mentions a club nearby, he grabs his jacket instead of heading home like he wanted, where he’s found himself spending way too much money on drinks and watching how your skin seems to glow under the flickering strobe lights.

You giggle at something Elliott whispers, no doubt a joke at Kyle’s expense, with the way you flash him a wicked grin afterward, and Kyle’s jaw clenches. He takes another sip of his drink as you lick a drop from your lips.

Kyle knows that he needs to stop watching. That soon you’re going to catch on that he’s looking at you in a not-so-friendly way.

But whatever it is, he can’t stop watching the way you move. Can’t stop imagining what it would feel like to pull that dress up around your hips and slide his hands over the skin he’s been dying to touch since you walked through the door.

He tells himself to stop looking and keep his thoughts chaste as you unintentionally pout your lips as you look at him to see why he’s so quiet.

But, fuck, he can’t stop the way he feels.

Like a live wire pulled too tight, every look tossed his way hitting him in his chest. In his gut. Lower.

You were always beautiful, but this — this is different.

Grown. Self-possessed.

Devastating.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom, both men watching as your hips slightly sway as you try to find your balance.

“Jesus, mate. You never said you had a girl like that waiting on you.” Kyle watches Elliott for a moment too long. Watches the way he’s already looking at you like a challenge that he could win you over. He’s seen that same look in almost every guy at this club when they look at you tonight, and his fists clench.

“She’s not my girl. We’re just friends.” A sour taste forms in his mouth as if he’s swallowed something acidic, and he watches Elliott light up at the info.

“Really? Is she seeing anyone? Or keen to be?” Kyle almost chokes at the waggle of Elliott’s brow at the last part. He doesn’t understand why he’s feeling this way, you’ve both dated other people before so this is nothing new, but the thought of you going home with anyone other than him makes his chest hurt.

“Dunno. You’d have to ask her.” Kyle shrugs, but it comes out too sharp, too fast. He swallows hard. It’s not a joke to him anymore. He takes a proper look, assessing the man sitting in front of him. It would never work between you and Elliott, would it? He’s military, too determined, too focused — too much like Kyle. And if you were going to be with somebody — why couldn’t it be Kyle?

“Gonna check on her, yeah?” he murmurs, rising before he thinks better of it. The rest of the drink burns on the way down, but it barely registers. Not over the heat crawling up his spine.

Admittedly, you got a little lost on the way to the bathroom, the three drinks catching up to you all at once. The club pulses and spins around you, lights strobing as the bass vibrates within your bones.

What was supposed to be a quick trip becomes a full lap of the dance floor, and you’re flushed and slightly dizzy when you walk up to the bar to order another Sex on the Beach. You’re halfway leaning over the counter to pass your card when someone drops theirs ahead of you.

The scent hits you before anything else: sharp, clean, with that rich warmth you’d know anywhere. Tom Ford. Kyle’s favorite.

You go still. Heart thudding.

You don’t turn around to look at him yet, suddenly, feeling too warm, too aware of the way your dress clings to your skin, the way your breath stutters in your chest. You tell yourself it’s just Kyle.

But it’s not the same Kyle, is it?

The one standing at the bar is taller now, sharper around the edges, all quiet confidence and serious demeanor. His gaze tracks you like he’s hunting, like he’s already read your next move and is deciding what to do with it.

And then there’s his body.

He’s broader now, chest and shoulders stretching the sleeves of his shirt, arms thick with the kind of strength that isn’t just there for decoration, but for utility and purpose.

Sun-kissed skin, dark mustache, and a lean athletic figure that has enough stamina to go for hours, whether that’s on the battlefield or —.

But the thing you find yourself staring at the most are his hands. What were once smooth are adorned with callouses, each one holding a war story that he’s yet to share. Like they’ve seen battle and want to learn softness now. Like they could leave bruises shaped like constellations on your hips if you asked nicely.

You take a large gulp of your drink like it might drown the thoughts clawing their way through your head. The alcohol burns, but it’s not nearly enough to dull the way your body thrums when Kyle gets even closer.

You turn around, and there he is — smiling dangerously like he’s hyper-aware of what path your thoughts have taken. His voice is a whisper in your ear, low enough to curl straight down your spine.

“Thought you were looking for the bathroom?” he murmurs, and you hate that your first instinct is to lean in like two opposite ends of a magnet.

“Got a little lost,” you say, breathier than you mean to, and take the straw into your mouth again slowly this time, just to see if his eyes drop to your lips again.

They do.

“What are you drinking?” he asks, and you push your cup toward him without thinking.

“Try it,” you say, soft. “It’s all juice and sugar. You probably won’t like it.”

You expect him to grab the cup and tip far from his mouth like he always used to when you were kids, but instead, his fingers skim your jaw, and he catches a drop from the corner of your mouth. You freeze.

Then he brings it to his lips.

“It’s sweet,” he says, slow and deliberate, still watching your mouth. “I like it.”

Your heart punches against your ribs, wild and frantic, and you barely stop yourself from chasing the taste on his lips. You fumble your drink with a clatter, cheeks hot as if you could be any less smooth.

He grins, cocky and all too pleased with himself, and slides in closer, setting the cup aside like nothing else matters.

The scent of him hits you — cologne and sweat and something deeper — and suddenly it’s like your entire body is one raw nerve. Your thoughts scatter. Your pulse stutters. You want to touch him. You want to climb into his lap. You want him to grab you by the hips and ruin every thread of self-control you’ve ever had.

He’s your best friend.

Somehow, you don’t care.

You try to collect yourself. Breathe in. Out. Focus on your heartbeat. On anything other than the way your skin is still buzzing from where he’s touched you.

But when you glance up, Kyle’s already looking at you half-lidded, pupils blown so wide that you almost have to squint to make out the thin ring of gold surrounding them.

You don’t even realize you’re moving closer to him until your hand brushes his, chest mere inches as you drink in Kyle in front of you. He takes your hand, fingers tracing the inside of your wrist. Your pulse skips a beat.

His doesn’t.

He opens his mouth, whether to speak or kiss you, you’ll never know as two of his friends come barreling in, ripping him away with slurred words and half-assed apologies.

“Oi, Kyle, some tosser thinks I’m flirting with his bird. Tell him he’s having a laugh, yeah?”

And just like that, the moment shatters. The lights, the music, the crowd pressing in — it all rushes back at once.

You even register the annoyed looks from people trying to squeeze past the two of you.

How long had the two of you been standing there?

“Can’t leave you guys alone for two seconds,” He mutters, catching his breath. His hand lingers on your wrist as mouths ‘be right back.’

You reach for your drink, spinning the liquid as if it’ll hypnotize you to keep your thoughts from spinning too.

“He’s pretty good, right?” Elliot slides in next to you, watching Kyle make his way through the crowd. “He was always the most level-headed in basic training. He probably broke up more fights than he was in them.”

You smile at that — of course, Kyle would gain the reputation of being the strategist, the fixer, always thinking things through.

“—- told him in training to go after what he wants, but it seems like he still hasn’t listened,”

You tune back in at the end of his sentence, narrowing your eyes at Elliott.

“I’m sorry?”

Elliott just grins.“Lemme buy you a drink, yeah?”

You should say yes- he’s cute, really fucking cute, and obviously interested by the way he’s been flirting with you all night.

But as you shift you weight from one foot to another, deliberating, your gaze slides to the other side of the club where Kyle is already watching.

You swear his jaw clenches when Elliott moves in closer to you.

“Oh,” Elliott laughs, catching the look. “You’re both a little fucked then.”

You blink. “What?”

He shakes his head, something almost kind about his expression. “Better that I’m not the one to tell you, right? But -“

He stops himself like he shouldn’t be saying something before shrugging his shoulders and tossing back the rest of his drink.

“Plenty of the lads at basic had birds back home. None of them ever talked about their girls the way Kyle talked about you.”

Your stomach twists at Elliott’s words, but you’re not sure if it’s from the implication or the confirmation. You’ve known Kyle was acting different tonight — the stares, the softness, the tension that always seemed just shy of crossing a line. You want to ask what Kyle said, how he said it, when he said it, take every sentence and dissect it syllable by syllable. But you don’t get the chance.

Because Kyle is back.

And he looks… different. Not just under the strobe lights, not just with his shirt rumpled and curls damp at the nape of his neck. He looks like someone who has made a decision.

His eyes skim over Elliott, land on you, and stay there.

You barely register Elliott muttering something about giving you two a moment before disappearing into the crowd. Kyle doesn’t say anything — not at first. He just stares at you like he’s trying to memorize every feature on your face like this is the last time he’ll see them.

“What did he say to you?”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Because if you open your mouth, you might admit that you’re shaking. That something about this — him, you, tonight — has shifted past the point of pretending. You don’t know how to flirt with Kyle because it never felt like you had to. But right now, standing in front of him with your heart in your throat, you want to be brave. You want to try.

So you just say, “You already know.”

Kyle blinks. His jaw twitches. Then he grabs your hand.

He pulls you into the crowd, the bass drowning out every thought except the feel of his fingers tangled in yours, the way his body moves ahead of you like he’s cutting a path through the world just to get you somewhere quieter, darker, closer.

Your skin sparks under his touch. Your blood hums with electricity.

And you don’t even realize you’ve stopped moving until you’re suddenly chest to chest, breath to breath, the rest of the world nothing more than sound and color. Hidden in some back hallway away from any interruptions or prying eyes. He stares down at you like you’re something divine. Like if he blinks, you’ll disappear.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he says like it’s a confession pulled from his ribs.

His palm slides against your lower back, anchoring you to him as if any distance will push you away. You smile, ready to make a joke, to tease him, to play into this push-and-pull you’ve somehow found yourself in.

But the look on his face punches the air out of your lungs.

Any ounce of self-control has fled from his body, replaced by a primal desire that seems to bleed from him. His hand trails up your spine, every hair on your body standing on end as you come to the complete and utter realization:

Kyle is going to kiss me.

And before you can even process what that means for your friendship, his mouth is on yours.

Suddenly you can’t think, all thoughts flooding straight from your brain as they’re replaced by one single, repetitive thought: ‘Holy shit, Kyle is a really good kisser.’

His hands find your waist, then your hips, then your ass, like he doesn’t know where to hold you because he wants to touch you everywhere. His tongue sweeps inside your mouth, tasting like gum and pints of lager, and a hint of the cigarette he bummed earlier, and that combo would be so disgusting on anyone else, but of course, it works for him, and you hear yourself gasping into him.

Your fingers fist into the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, and he groans deep and low like the sound is being pulled straight out of his chest.

“Fuck,” he mutters, lips moving against yours. “Why do you taste so fucking good?”

He kisses you like he’s trying to ruin you for anyone else, and you think it’s working. You will never be able to kiss anyone again without thinking about the way Kyle took you apart, thread by thread, with just his mouth. You pull him in closer, feeling slightly depraved and insane. You want to crawl into his skin, get under him, inside him, anywhere where he can hold on to you like this forever.

You shift, and your thighs brush against him, forcing you to feel him — thick and hard through his jeans and pressing right against your hip. You moan before you can stop yourself, and he grips you even tighter, pulling you flush against him.

“You’re driving me insane, sweetheart,” he rasps in your ear, dragging his mouth down your jaw. You drag his face back to yours, and he kisses you again —deeper, messier, needier— but it’s still not enough. You want more, need more, need to know what it feels like for him to be inside you, fingers buried in his hair as you fall apart for him over and over again.

But for now, you just let him devour you. Kissing you with a promise of what’s to come, like he’s starved and you’re the first taste he’s allowed himself in years.

You break away first, barely breathing hard as you take in Kyle’s swollen lips and chest heaving as if he just ran across the country.

His hand is still gripping your waist like he’ll fall if he lets go, and he rests his forehead against yours. For a second, you think he might kiss you again until he exhales hard, coming to terms with the situation that just happened.

”Fuck, we — we weren’t supposed to do that, sweetheart.”

His voice is wrecked like he’s ashamed of how badly he wanted it. Of how badly he still wants it.

You don’t move. Your fingers are still twisted in his shirt, and your neck still tingles from where he dragged his lips across it. You finally open your eyes to look at him.

And when your eyes meet his, he looks absolutely ruined.

“Stop looking at me like that, love.” His hand twitches like he might pull away, but he doesn’t. Just takes a deep inhale. “We’re friends, right?”

The words don’t match the way he’s staring at you, with lips parted, pupils blown, and you still feel the weight of him fully pressed up against you. And whatever line you two were pretending existed has already shattered.

So, you look up at him, bold and tipsy, and braver than you have any right to be, and whisper in his ear: “I don’t want to be just your friend tonight, Kyle.”

Something settles in between you two, the words impossible to take back, so Kyle just gives a deep nod before calling a cab.

You slide into the cab first, and Kyle follows, close enough that your legs touch, close enough for him to smell the sweet sting of your perfume and whatever’s left of the drink on your lips.

The door shuts, and for the first time all night, it’s too quiet — he hears his heartbeat in his ears, and his nerves continue to dial themselves higher and higher.

You shift, and his gaze drops down to where your dress rides a little higher from the movement. He can’t help himself, his hand settles heavy over your knee, thumb dragging slow, deliberate circles on your bare skin. It feels delicate, pretty, soft and he wonders if you’d feel that way all over.

Your skin warms instantly, and he can feel the heat coming off you in waves. You glance up at him, eyes silently begging for him to move again, for him to kiss and touch and worship you like he craves.

And God does he want to.

Kyle leans in closer, mouth brushing just behind your ear, making sure to keep his voice low enough that only you can hear,

“If we weren’t in a fucking cab right now…”

You still.

“My hand wouldn’t just be on your thigh.” He makes sure to draw a deliberate line up the inside of your leg, stopping just short of where your dress ends, hiding where he wants to see you the most. “It’d be under that fucking dress, halfway to making you come again.”

Your breath hitches. The driver coughs once, and Kyle forces himself back,hand still on your leg, grip just tight enough to remind you that he’s still here, just as wanting as you.

You don’t say a word for the rest of the ride.

Neither does he.

The car slows to a stop, and before Kyle can stop himself, he tosses a large tip to the driver before taking your hand like a man possessed and dragging you into his flat.

The second the door clicks shut, Kyle’s mouth is back on yours.

He barely registers kicking the door shut before he’s got you pinned to it, hands firmly gripping your waist to anchor himself to this moment. He wants to take his time, to memorize how you feel under his hands, how you sound when he kisses your neck, commit this to memory in case he never gets the chance to again, but desperation takes over, and all he can think about is how badly he wants more. How badly he wants you.

Your purse hits the floor, but he doesn’t really care. You let out another gasp into him, and he’s never been angrier at himself. For pretending, for years, that this was inevitable.

He drags his teeth against your bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to suck and bite until it’s flushed red.

Instead, his hands move free of his control, down your thighs, under your dress, until he’s rubbing the front of the thong you have on, and he moans slightly into your mouth.

You’ve completely ruined yourself, underwear drenched, and your hips jerk as he presses a light circle to your covered clit.

He smiles, using his other hand to pin you to the door, and he feels you shaking like you might detonate against him as he continues to draw light circles around your covered heat.

“Kyle,” you whine, and it feels like a livewire has been cut deep inside him as he moves your panties to the side, and slides two fingers inside of you.

And all he can think to say is, “Fucking finally.”

God, you’re tight, warm, and just fucking perfect. Your hips jerk against where his hand is moving, like you’ve been shocked and he feels his breath stutter against the high-pitched moans you make, raw and startled like you didn’t know you could want him this much.

Kyle presses his forehead against yours, cursing when you gasp at the curl of his fingers. And he feels the confession bubbling up, tries to push it back down where it’s supposed to remain hidden and locked away, but you sound so sweet when you whine his name that he just starts … rambling.

“I’ve thought about this,” he rasps, voice wrecked and low. “I tried not to, sweetheart, I really did, but you were always there in my mind at night. What you’d sound like, what you’d look like coming undone, what you’d feel like when you finally let me touch you.”

Surprisingly, you don’t jerk away from his confession, call him a creep, or tell him that he’s supposed to be just a friend. Instead, you clench tightly around his fingers, moaning a little bit louder throughout his admission, and adoration begins to fill your eyes.

It only takes a few more pumps of his fingers, before you fall apart, and Kyle holds you through it, hand steady, mouth skimming your jaw as he tries to brand the shape of your body to his memory.

You’re still trembling in his arms when he pulls back, and he watches you blink, dazed and flushed and impossibly beautiful. He’s never been so hard before, and you reach for his belt, his body slumping forward as you brush a delicate hand across the rough outline of his cock.

He wants you so badly it hurts. But it can’t be like this. Not the first time.

“Baby,” he rasps and you whine at that, grasping the print of him a little harder and he grabs your hand to still you.

“I want you so badly right now.” He cups your face, brushes against your cheek, and whispers against your lips, “But our first time will not be against a bloody door.”

He pulls you in again, lips pressing as he drags his tongue against your mouth, hands drifting down to take a firm grip of your ass.

And just like that it shifts.

Kyle picks you up like it’s nothing, and cradles you close, as he carries you through his flat to his bedroom like you weigh nothing at all. Lays you down so softly like you’re made of glass.

And then you kiss again, softer, slower, as if he’s truly taking his time to learn who you are. He reaches down, pulling your dress off of you, and the look in his eyes makes your breath catch.

He looks as if he’s seen a divine being, wanting nothing more than to lay you down at the altar and worship you until you bless him.

So, he does.

He takes his time, kissing down your chest, your ribs, your hips, like he’s tracing down a map to something sacred. He removes the last barrier you have, the last of your clothes, and you open your legs for him. His eyes darken, the edges lazy with want, and he sucks a deep, bruising kiss at the apex of your thigh.

And then his mouth is on you. If you could even describe something as monumental as simple as that. As if you could describe the starburst that floods your vision with such a crass term as “eating pussy.”

Kyle lays everything out with the broad strokes he licks into you, groaning as if he can’t imagine anywhere else as perfect as in between your thighs.

You cry out, one hand flying to the wall, the other buried in his hair, as he traces soft circles into you.

You hear yourself call out his name, all your senses locked into the way he smiles against you. ”Been dreaming about the way you’d say my name.”

He sucks at you like he wants your legs to shake, like he won’t be satisfied until you come completely and utterly undone for him.

So when you come for the second time, it’s no surprise that it’s with a broken cry that leaves him shuddering.

You think he might stop there. Takes the time to let you recover as he strips himself. But he’s above you again, and you take the time to run your hands across broad shoulders that lead down to a tapered waist adorned with a perfect set of abs.

He hangs hot and heavy between your legs, and you sigh as he takes you in for another kiss, briefly tasting yourself on him before he pulls back,

“Is this still okay?” He whispers, eyes looking for any doubt.

You nod. “More than”

And he sinks into you with a groan that’s been clawed from his chest.

His pace is unhurried and measured, forehead against yours as you clench around him when he presses a kiss against your forehead. His pace falters before picking back up as he mutters “fuck, love, you feel like heaven.”

You lock your ankles around his waist as he laces your fingers together. His mouth catches yours mid-moan and refuses to let go. You wish it felt wrong like this is a dark and dirty secret that will never be touched, but as you come for the third time, you know that you’ll never be able to live peacefully knowing what it looks like to have Kyle fall apart above you, mouth on your neck as his whole body trembles into yours.

He slowly pulls out of you, lying next to you before pulling you close to his chest, and pressing a familiar kiss to the top of your head.

You’ve never felt so serene, so calm, so at ease, and you want to say something to break the moment. To bring you both back down to the level you normally operate at, with friendly jokes and ribbing and teasing.

Deep down, you feel that coil snap, that something’s changed between the two of you. You wonder if he feels that too, but when you look at him, the only thing you see is the same devotion he had a few moments earlier.

So you shove all your thoughts away and close your eyes

You wake up missing the familiar weight of Kyle next to you. The bed is cold, the sheets pulled into a precise military fold, and the only sign he was ever there is the dent in the pillow next to you.

You grab something discarded from the pile of clothes on the floor, Kyle’s shirt, and tug it on before padding out barefoot to the kitchen.

“Morning,” you whisper, voice still scratchy with sleep.

He startles just slightly at the sound of your voice and straightens before turning around.

There’s a small smile on his face, but it doesn’t quite meet and doesn’t feel as genuine as it should be.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, standing on the other side of the island. He nudges your cup towards you, tea prepared the way you’ve always preferred and you hold the burning cup in your hands, lines forming between your brows.

“I’m fine. How do you feel?” you ask, guarded.

Kyle looks exhausted, not the face of someone satisfied after a night of good sex, and you start to second-guess yourself. You’ve seen Kyle with ex-girlfriends, and he’s the picture of romance - flowers, kisses, constantly holding hands and all over them.

For a moment last night, you thought you saw that Kyle when he was with you, but you don’t recognize the man in front of you- guarded, drawn back.

Off-kilter, you take a sip of the tea you’ve been holding, dropping the mug when it burns your tongue. The clatter echoes through the quiet flat, and you immediately bend down to grab the mug, muttering apologies as you check for chips in the ceramics. ”Shit — sorry, I didn’t mean to —”

“It’s fine,” Kyle says quickly, already kneeling to help. His hand grazes yours, and you both freeze.

You look at him, and his eyes stay firmly trained on the mug. The silence stretches across the apartment until becomes unbearable.

“I just — I wasn’t expecting you to be gone,” you say, voice childishly quiet. “When I woke up.”

Kyle runs a hand through his hair, already mussed from sleep, and still refuses to look at you. ”Didn’t want to wake you.” He sounds just as young as you just did, and your heart does an unusual pitter-patter.

“That’s it?” you ask. “After everything?”

His face falls, and the expression tells you everything you need to know. He’s already halfway gone, leaving you again like he did when you were both 17.

You don’t want to ask. You don’t want to know.

“Do you regret,” you pause, struggling to get the words out. “what we did last night?

Kyle’s head whips to you, eyes panicked. “No,” he says. “It was… Fuck, it was—” He swallows hard like something is lodged in his throat. “This just isn’t something I can do right now.”

You blink. “What do you mean?”

His eyes meet yours like he’s seeing you clearly for the first time all morning. “I leave in six weeks.”

“And?”

“And I’ve watched what happens when people try to wait,” he says. “What it does to them. I’ve seen it ruin people and wreck lives. And I care too much about you to let that happen to us. To you.”

Us.

Your chest caves a little at that.

“So you thought it’d be better to fuck me first?” You laugh sardonically. The words come out sharper than intended, and you see the hit land.

Kyle flinches. “That’s not — don’t make it like that. It wasn’t like that.”

You hug yourself, pressing your lips together to hide the wobble in your voice. “Then what was it?”

He doesn’t say anything, sits across from you in silence, and you understand. That knowing the truth would hurt too much. That Kyle is still trying to protect you from all the things that could hurt you in this world.

Only this time it’s from himself.

You nod once, jaw tight. “Got it.”

You turn to leave, and this time, he doesn’t stop you.

♡ ♡ ♡

December 24, 2022 - 10:24 P.M.

Kyle listens to the fire crackle, as cousins, aunts, and uncles trickle into his grandfather’s house. The first Christmas he’s spent with his family in years is a big one, and he briefly wonders how they’re all going to cram into the tiny sitting area.

He pulls the tartan blanket over his cousin sleeping next to him before moving to sit next to his mother. In 29 years, he’s never seen his mother look so tired, so weathered, so worried. He knows that it’s because of him, that it must be impossible to sleep at night, knowing that there’s no guarantee that your son will return to you safely. The chime of laughter coming from the kitchen brings him down from where he feels he’s floating a million miles away. He takes his mother’s hand and runs his thumb gently across her knuckles, grounding himself there.

”How are you doing, mum?” he asks, softly, and she turns to him with bright eyes. Kyle’s mind wanders to what if his dad were still here. Would he still have joined the military? Entered the SAS? Met the 141? Maybe he would have ended up here anyway. But the look on his mother’s face says otherwise.

”I’m just so happy to see you here, Kyle.” Her eyes water up, and Kyle knows instantly what’s not being said. He tries not to think about that day too much, the bullets ricocheting off the helicopter, as the only thing keeping him alive is a fraying rope. It’s become a bit of a legend amongst new recruits.

“Can you believe the sergeant fell out of a helicopter and survived? I heard he took out 5 men while dangling from a rope. No, it was six.”

A ringing starts to fill his ears, and he focuses back in on his mom who’s looking at him with concern again.

”I’m happy to be here, Mum.” He mumbles, and suddenly, he feels exhausted. Being tired isn’t a new feeling - he hasn’t had a real night's sleep since before he joined the military, but this exhaustion feels deeper, like it’s carved into his bones. He’s so used to waking up at six a.m. and running 5 km that the stillness of a peaceful night is almost foreign to him.

“He would’ve been proud of you, y’know?” Kyle jerks up at that, turning to his mom. She doesn’t often talk about his father, doing the small things to keep the memory alive on his birthday and the anniversary of his death, but the pain always seemed too much to bear. “He would always say when you were younger, ‘My boy, he’s going to accomplish great things.’ He just would’ve been so proud.” Her voice wobbles a little before she catches herself.

”I know, Mum,” and the funny thing is he believes that. He knows that he’s accomplished everything his father had dreamt for him, grown into the man his father started molding the second he was born. Yet he still feels like something’s missing.

Kyle hears the door open, and close, wondering who the late addition could be. At this point, every family member has arrived.

“Darling, you mustn’t be upset, but she has no family out here. We’ve had her over every year since she’s moved,” His mother rushes out, worry quickly replacing the melancholy that lined her voice.

Before he can even process what that means, who he could possibly be upset about seeing, he hears a voice he hasn’t heard in over 8 years—

Yours.

A part of you thinks it’s weird that you spend every Christmas with Kyle’s family despite not speaking to him for 8 years.

Your job had brought you to London a few years back, and you were more than happy to spend the day eating Chinese takeout and rewatching old Christmas movies. But your mother found out and gave a call to Kyle’s mother and well, “Family doesn’t let family spend the holidays alone, do they?”

Which is how you find yourself at their Christmas Eve dinner every year.

Kyle never shows up, always on duty or leave, but you find yourself holding your breath every year hoping he’ll walk in.

And you’re disappointed every single time.

You shouldn’t be, you don’t even want to be and you don’t know why you anticipate him being there as if he wasn’t the one who said you two were better off as friends and then slowly stopped responding to your texts and calls.

Your friends all tell you that you’re better off, that Kyle fucked up and doesn’t know what he’s missing. And you try and pretend that you don’t look for him in every guy you see, looking for brown eyes and a protective heart in every Bumble date and one-night stand you meet.

So when Kyle turns around, your breath hitches, shallow and fast, like your body’s bracing for impact.

You thought of this moment for years, the moment where you can yell at him, scream and curse, and cry for breaking your heart. Inflict a fraction of the pain he caused you back onto him, make him feel all the nights that you spent crying, mourning the loss of your best friend.

But what stops you in your tracks is how absolutely exhausted Kyle looks.

He’s still Kyle, but his whiskey-colored eyes are rimmed with dark circles and wrinkle a little more when he smiles. His beard has grown a little more, a rarity for Kyle who has liked to be as clean-shaven as possible since the moment he started growing facial hair.

You had heard about the accident, how he barely survived — and his mom had begged you to give him a call. But every time you reached for the phone, something stopped you.

What do you say to someone when there’s so much that’s been left unsaid?

The door creaks shut behind you, breaking the awkward showdown you’ve found yourself in.

“Darling!” His mother is the first to react, walking over to where you awkwardly hesitate in the door, one step away from bolting. She brings you into a warm embrace, running a comforting hand through your hair.

”I’m so happy you could make it. He won’t say it, but I know he misses you. Still puts up the ornaments you two made in primary school,” she whispers in your ear. Your eyes catch Kyle’s across the at this, and you press your lips together in a firm line. You don’t want to be bitter but if he really did miss you as much as she said, why is he still there — still putting distance between the two of you?

She lets go of you, helping you out of your winter coat, and then a few of Kyle’s younger cousins are dragging you to the kitchen, wanting to gossip about all the things you normally do when you come over, and you forget that once again, Kyle is watching you walk away.

And despite his presence being so loud in the middle of this party, you’re able to continue like you normally do. You laugh and eat roast and mince pies, and even participate in Secret Santa, where you receive an absolutely horrid sweater that will never see the light of day. And it all feels so normal that your heart swells, that if you keep your focus on certain parts of the room, it’s like Kyle isn’t even there.

But whenever your eyes meet, Kyle goes completely still — like something has knocked the breath out of him. He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t move. Just stares like he’s seeing a ghost he thought would never come back to haunt him.

Your stomach churns — it was a bad idea to stay. You should’ve feigned an illness as soon as you saw him there because unhealed wounds are starting to bleed the longer his wide-eyed gaze follows you around the room.

So, you begin to pack up. Walking around from family member to family member to say goodbye, accepting all the kisses on the cheeks and leftovers to eat for the next few days. It’s not until you’re standing by the coat rack to put your jacket on that you shiver from the feeling of a large figure behind you, your body remembering him before your brain can catch up. He’s silent on his feet in a way that can only come from years of military training. He had never been so quiet before.

“Are you leaving already?” he rasps, and your knees almost buckle from hearing his voice for the first time. Your stomach flips like it’s trying to turn yourself inside out.

“Yeah, I need to start driving back now before it gets too late,” you whisper, not wanting to speak too loud as if he’s an apparition that’ll disappear with any quick movements.

“What’s this about you driving home,” Kyle’s mother interrupts, eyes narrowed. You didn’t even realize that she was standing there, but from her crossed arms, you knew that you fucked up.

“It’s only a short drive, Ms. Garrick. Swear, I’ll be home in twenty minutes,” you promise, hoping she won’t beg you to spend the night. Tonight had already been heavy. You spare a glance at Kyle, but his gaze is solely focused on his mom, listening intently to what she’s going to say next.

“But it’s already so late. Why don’t you just spend the night here? You can stay with Kyle, it’ll be just like when you two were kids again,” she beams, and you don’t have the heart to say no.

“Mum,” Kyle protests, already beginning to form an argument but his mother silences him with a wave.

“Really, Kyle? You’re going to make her drive home alone in the dark. I would’ve thought I raised you better than that. Besides it’s just one night,” she dismisses the two of you with such finality you have no choice but to follow Kyle upstairs as he shows you which room he’s staying in.

“I can sleep on the floor- or the couch, give you some space,” and for a moment, you’re tempted to take him up on his offer. But the way he’s slumped, you knew it would be awful to subject him to subpar sleep because of an 8-year grudge.

“It’s fine, Kyle. I’m the one intruding. You take the bed,” you say, and are already grabbing your pillow to head to the door to go back to the couch.

For a moment, it’s just you and Kyle and the ghosts of a hundred sleepovers past — whispered secrets under shared blankets, the safety of knowing he’d always be there

But now there’s an invisible line between you, drawn sharp and painful, and neither of you know how to cross it.

Kyle shifts closer, hesitant, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he moves too fast.

You pause in the doorway, pillow clutched awkwardly to your chest. Kyle shifts on his feet, the floorboards creaking beneath him.

“You sure?” he asks, voice low and rough from exhaustion. And suddenly it’s just the two of you, standing in a too-small room with eight years of distance stretching between you.

“Why don’t we just share? My mum would kill me if she found out I made you sleep on the couch.”

“Okay,” you whisper, following Kyle back to the bed, shakily pulling the covers back one by one if anything to delay sleeping next to him again.

He follows your lead, slowly crawling under the bed, back towards where you’d be sleeping. You sigh softly, before following suit, back facing his.

You don’t know how you’re going to sleep tonight, feeling overwhelmed by every shift and movement Kyle makes, the heat of his body next to yours, the careful distance he keeps between the two of you to make sure you don’t touch.

You wait, counting as the seconds turn to minutes in your head. Waiting for him to say something, anything to acknowledge that he has his back turned to what was once the closest person in his life.

It’s all too much, and your throat begins to burn. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself not to cry.

Then you feel it.

The lightest brush of Kyle’s fingers against your hand, hesitant and trembling, as if asking for permission.

You freeze.

He doesn’t grab, doesn’t force. He just …. waits. His pinky hooked barely against yours, a question hanging between you.

For a second, you want to pull away. You should pull away. But you don’t.

Instead, you shift your hand just a little, letting your pinky catch his.

You wait, wondering if his graze was accidental or if he’s going to acknowledge where you two are linked. You feel your stomach twist, and you watch the trees gently sway under the moonlight. You try to calm yourself down and inhale as quietly as possible before exhaling when you just barely hear it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and you get hit with a familiar feeling. Of you two sharing a bed before and him whispering those same words.

You feel as if you should turn, and face him to see what he says next, but you are still frozen, petrified that any moment, you’ll wake up to find you’re still in your apartment and Kyle is still a million miles away from you.

“I don’t know why I didn’t call you or talk to you. I - I was 21, and you were the most important person in my life. I, I just couldn’t lose you.” his voice cracks at the end, and he sounds absolutely wrecked at the idea.

“And then I did.” he continues “It was stupid, but I didn’t know how to be your friend after knowing what it’s like to kiss you, to hold you, to be with you. And it fucking killed me, it - it haunted me. And every day we didn’t talk, I didn’t know how to reach out to you. And then you were gone completely.”

You’ve gone completely still. Of all the things, you expected him to say, you didn’t think that would be it.

“Please, just say something, love. Anything.” he pleads, and releases a bone-rattling sigh.

“Kyle,” and you hear your voice tremble. “I was in love with you. And you- you left me.”

As soon as you say the word love, you hear Kyle shift over, and turn to face you, and you know you should follow suit. Turn to face him and brace this reconciliation, but the thought of dealing with his rejection again keeps you in place.

He shifts, moving to grab your hand but pausing. The burning pressure behind your eyes is throbbing, and you have no doubt that you’re fully crying at this point. You feel Kyle’s stare at your back, and you crawl into yourself more, leaving only your hand outstretched for him to still anchor onto.

"That day," Kyle starts, voice cracking a little, "the one where I fell out of the helicopter..." He swallows hard. "The first thing I thought of was you.”

You suck in a shaky breath, clutching the blanket tighter.

"I thought about—" His voice catches. He scrubs a hand over his face like he's trying to pull the words out by force. "I thought about how if this was it, if I was gonna die, you'd think... you'd think I didn’t love you.”

You’re certain that the entire house could hear the sob you let out at that. Without even realizing it, you’ve turned over to him, and Kyle looks just as devastated as you do.

Kyle’s eyes are red-rimmed, his mouth pressed tight like he’s holding back everything at once. He starts to reach for you, then pulls back, and fists the sheets instead.

"I wanted to call you," he says hoarsely. "A thousand times. I just—" He laughs once, brokenly. "I didn’t know how to fix it. I didn’t know what to say to make it better."

You stare at him, blinking hard, heart hammering against your ribs.

"I just..." His voice goes nearly silent. "I missed you so much, love."

He lets the silence stretch between you. A lifetime of things unsaid crowding the room.

"I'm sorry," he says again, almost inaudible. "For all of it."

You don’t say anything, close your eyes for just a moment to process what was just said to you. Kyle continues to breathe shakily, closing his eyes as well.

He’s thrown out his lifeline, laid every card on the table, and you feel your heart break — for all the words unsaid, for all the time missed.

You tentatively grab his hand, intertwining your fingers together fully.

Kyle chokes on a sob, shifting closer so your foreheads touch, closing his eyes to breathe you in, holding tight to the fact that you’re just there, close and in his arms once again.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, and you two stay like that, fingers intertwined as you fall asleep.

♡ ♡ ♡

October 12, 2024 - 1:28 A.M.

Kyle mentally runs through the wedding planner’s checklist to make sure he doesn’t do something stupid, like tripping on an untied shoelace and face-planting down the aisle.

He glances down at the daisy chain wrapped around his wrist, something you had woven for him the day before, tucking it into his palm with a kiss to the cheek before vanishing behind closed doors until today.

It took time to get here. To rebuild the foundation, and Kyle wishes he could say it was easy. That things simply slid back into the place the way they used to when you were kids.

He took the time to learn you again, the woman you’d become in those eight years, no longer just the girl who climbed over his fence or the teenager who spun with him under disco lights.

And the more he found, the more he fell.

Nobody was surprised when you finally announced that the two of you were dating. Both your mums claimed they knew all along. Kyle suspects they did.

Then the violins start.

Everyone stands.

And Kyle has to remind himself how to breathe.

Your silhouette appears at the end of the aisle, and his heart pulls so tight it aches. You glow, so soft and radiant in white, and walking arm in arm with your father. And suddenly he’s seven years old again, dressed in his favorite Easter outfit, as a circle of stuffed animals bear witness to your first “wedding.”

The memory clings to him now, tugging at his ribs like a second heartbeat.

You catch his eye, and he smiles widely.

You smile back even brighter.

You take your time crossing the aisle, careful with every step, the train of your dress sweeping heavy behind you.

After Christmas Eve, everything shifted. Kyle called every day, texted when he could, and reached out in whatever way to let you know he was thinking of you. And you, despite everything, met him there, refusing to run and instead letting him show up.

After what feels like an hour, you finally make it to the front of the alter, your father kissing your cheek before handing you off and you step in front of Kyle.

“Hi,” he whispers. His cheeks flush pink, and suddenly you see the six-year-old boy you met all those years ago, with red skin and scraped knees, and honeycomb-colored eyes that you secretly hope your kids get.

“Hi,” you whisper back, sounding so giddy to your own ears. If anyone were to look at you, you’re sure you're glowing with love as you look at the man who is about to be yours forever.

You hate to admit it, but the ceremony blurs by you until it’s time for your vows, and Kyle is shakily unfolding a piece of paper.

“The day we met, I remember I was so amazed that I could be in a place so bright compared to rainy London.” The audience laughs lightly at that, as the rain drums steadily against the chapel roof above, like London itself is blessing your vow.

“And then you came along, somehow making everything brighter. I didn’t know it then, but that was the moment everything changed.

You’ve been in my life so long, I don’t remember a version of myself without you in it. You’ve seen me through every season —every good bit, every broken bit — and you never stopped showing up. So today, I’m promising to do the same. To show up. To love you properly.

You’ve always been my home. And I’m so bloody lucky I get to spend the rest of my life coming back to you.”

You can’t hide your tears if you try, and you hope that the officiant finally says you can kiss the bride by the time you lunge toward Kyle and pull him towards you. Luckily, Kyle is just as eager and he kisses you like he’s waited half his life for this moment, the audience laughing as Kyle flips off Johnny’s suggestive coughing.

The hotel is quiet, the kind of quiet that only comes after hours of laughter and champagne and dancing until your feet ache. You’re still in your dress, the zipper half-undone, your lipstick mostly gone, when Kyle carries you through the doorway of your honeymoon suite.

It’s calm, the way you know he is, arms around your waist, forehead pressed to yours, fists balling the fabric of your dress like he can’t bear to let go. Like he might go another decade without you again.

He sets you down gently on the bed, and for a long moment, neither of you moves. You stare at one another, drinking each other in. You know every line of his face, could sketch a portrait blindfolded and backwards, but tonight he looks new. Lit from within.

In love.

“Come here,” you whisper, voice breathless with happiness, and Kyle follows the sound like a prayer. His lip finds yours, and he kisses you slow, deep, and steady. Taking his time to permanently cement this moment.

He unzips your dress like he’s unwrapping something sacred, fingertips dragging over your skin like he’s trying to memorize it all over again. You tug at his shirt with clumsy hands, and he chuckles in disbelief into your mouth, letting you pull it over his head.

“What?” You ask, smiling a little breathlessly at him, and he runs his thumb across your cheek.

“I just can’t believe it’s you,” he says, awe in his eyes and in his voice. He presses a kiss to your collarbone, moving down to your shoulder, your ribs.

You don’t have a clever reply. All you can do is kiss him, slow and deep, like saying me too without words. Your hands cup his jaw, your thumb brushing over the slight curve of his smile, and you think about how you’ll always get to kiss him like this.

When he finally moves between your legs, it’s patient, worshipful. His hands fit perfectly against your hips, like he was made to hold them, and you wrap your legs around him instinctively, already breathless from the weight of him against you.

“Sill okay?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth.

“Always,” you whisper back, and he slides into you with a groan so soft and reverent it nearly breaks your heart.

“I love you,” he whispers against your mouth, pulling you in for a deep kiss.

There’s no rush, no teasing, just him rocking into you slow and sweet. His hands lace yours again like he did all those years ago, and he kisses you like he’s trying to tell you something he can’t put into words. Like saying I love you isn’t enough so he has to show it with his body.

You cry a little when you come. It’s embarrassing and messy and overwhelming and Kyle just holds you tighter, kisses your cheeks, tells you how good you’re doing, how beautiful you are. He follows soon after, soft curses pressed to your throat, hips stuttering as he falls apart with you.

You stay like that for a long time, just holding one another. Breathing each other in.

“I love you,” you whisper, tracing a light thumb over his cheek as he smiles at you.

“Forever and always,” he whispers back and kisses the inside of your wrist.

You smile against him as sleep pulls you both under.

Like gravity.

Like home.

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cececat · 2 months ago

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STH FanStory Recommendations:

As well as writing, I have found myself also reading an awful amount of Sonic-related fanfiction and comics recently… So, I thought I’d share a few of my favourites in case anyone else has found themselves hyper-fixating over this fandom like I have recently 🦔

I’ll try to put them in sections but please note that quite a few of the topics tend to overlap. Oh and also, there happens to be an awful lot of Sonadow shipping too, because even if it’s not always the key focus in the story, it always seems to make its way into the things I consume now apparently 😅 So I’ll be sure to tag with 💙🖤❤️ if that’s relevant.

I hope you like this list (it took quite a while to put together) and be sure to show all of these stories and creators some love! 👇👇 👇

And obviously I had to start this list by plugging my own fanfiction stories, because I've been putting so much work into them and they will be updated regularly, while also making lots of other stuff as well... So please follow and/or subscribe for that... 😉 archiveofourown.org/users/cececatcreates

Live Action Universe:

Concord by EvieNyx (@evienyx) - [Complete] 💙🖤❤️ Focuses on Shadow after the third SCU movie. It’s really cute, and I feel like it accurately portrays movie-Shadow’s thoughts and memories, mixing together elements of the films with fan theories and other STH media canon.

Project Guardian by AealZX @aealzx - [Ongoing] Again, after the third SCU movie (there’s quite a few of them 😅) but Shadow is taken in as a fourth Wachowski sibling, who has to recover from severe injuries. Some art is included, and it’s just really sweet all-in-all.

Secrets In Our Quills by @nebrasska-alasska - [Ongoing] 💙🖤❤️ I’m sure many of you are already aware of their amazing stories, but this one is the longest so far, and also the closest to being completed. But if you like Sonadow slowburn and plenty of gay fluff, you should definitely read all of their incredible fanfics.

A Junk Yard Of Possibilities by CrazyForClones (@crazyforclones) - [Complete] This story looks at what happened to Agent Stone after Dr Robotnik’s death and focuses on the potentially adorable friendship that could blossom between him and Tails.

Family Loading… Please Wait by Humanities_Handbag ( @humanityinahandbag) & Invader_Sam (@smerfols) - [Ongoing] This quickly became a favourite, as it did with many others. 💕 It starts all the way back with the Wachowski’s adopting Sonic and then Tails and Knuckles and eventually Stone and Shadow, and it’s just the biggest, cutest family dynamic.

What Makes Us Who We Are by EmmaSmoke ( @emmasmoke8) - This is about the Mobians doing certain things their Earth animal counterparts would naturally do. My favourite parts are definitely Tails doing adorable fox things and Tom and Maddie trying to figure out what the heck all their anthropomorphic alien children are doing. 😅

Suspended by CheetahBoy (@90sfr3sh) - This looks at what could have happened if Sonic and Tails didn't get rescued by Maddie and Rachel during the second film. It's such a cool concept, I'm very excited to see what happens next! 😁

General / Alternate Universes:

Sonic Wave by Sharp_Silver (@sharp-silver-fanfic) - [Ongoing] I really love this story! 💕 It’s basically a full retelling of the STH universe lore, taking elements from all different bits of media. It’s been crazy good so far, so please give them your support!

Weird Science by satan_official - [Ongoing] 💙🖤❤️ This one is really interesting and it sort of makes me think of Equestria Girls (for any MLP fans out there!) but instead it’s Sonic and Shadow who are stuck in human bodies on the human world. It’s a bit different but really great so far 😁

Fixing Fractured Worlds We Briefly Broke by TheLittleStar_tm - [Ongoing] 💙🖤❤️ This is a fellow Prime fanstory, focusing on the trauma of all the Green Hills characters we already all know and love in the aftermath of season 3. 💔

Boom To Another Dimension by Gamerblade - [Ongoing] Explores what could happen if the SCU Live Action film characters were sent to the Sonic Boom universe, with pretty regular updates being uploaded so far. 😊

Into The Tailsverse by TheCatCacoon - [Ongoing] This one has a bunch of my favourite little two-tailed foxes, and, as someone who is also exploring bringing different Miles Prowers together, it’s intriguing to see how someone else writes these characters 🦊

Culture Shock by foggystarrs (@foggystarrs) - [Ongoing] 💙🖤❤️ Purely a Sonadow fanfiction, but it looks at hedgehog / Mobian courting behaviour and is just really cute 🥰 If you are a fan of oblivious gay and alien hedgehogs, you’ll probably love this one.

Others / Comics:

Sonic Desolation by Wren Rivers (@sonicdesolation by TrenchCoatGecko) - [Ongoing] This is a crazy detailed comic set around the events of the Sonic Forces game where Sonic is struggling with PTSD from what Infinite did to him during his imprisonment.

Heart Of A Monster by SuperEmeralds (@the-heart-of-a-monster by @superemerarts) - [Ongoing] Another insanely detailed comic, which is a retelling of Sonic Unleashed. Its so well done, plus there's a gentle sprinkling of platonic Sonadow.

Team Dark Supernova Odyssey by @sharpedgedfool (@teamdarksupernovaodyssey) - [Ongoing] This is a space opera comic revolving around found family and adventure themes, set as a hypothetical spin-off to the Shadow the Hedgehog video game.

Sonic Boom Revisited by @multiisketch , @mama-qwerty. & @star-stages (@sonicboomrevisited) - [Ongoing] This comic is amazing. A bit darker than the original series, but has just been so gripping so far. Regular updates too! Definitely recommended! 👍

Second Chance by @sumju - 💙🖤❤️ - Who doesn’t love a Sonadow comic?? Plus Tails is adorable as usual (and reminding Shadow of Maria 😭) so that’s an added bonus 🧡

Infested by @flightyalrighty - [Ongoing] Viewer discretion advised for this one, it seems pretty dark...

Ask the Sonic Verse by @verizzafai (@asksonicverse) 💙🖤❤️ - [Ongoing] This is a fun, silly ongoing series which focuses on different versions of Sonadow all being stuck in the same room and getting sent questions from the audience.

Low Light by @verizzafai (@soniclowlightau) 💙🖤❤️ - Only a few pages so far, but looks very promising!

Broken Future by @teamchillidogs 💙🖤❤️ - [Ongoing] A tragic re-telling of an alternate ending of Sonic Adventure 2.

Silver's Parent Trap by @evilgenius-prower 💙🖤❤️ - A silly AU where Silver is actually the adopted future child of Sonadow and goes back in time to try and save his dads lives.

Eggsperiments by @prince-less - This is a new concept so there's not much content about it yet, but I really hope it becomes either a proper comic or fanfic or something similar, because I'm such a sucker for alternate stories of Sonic and Tails being the best brothers, and this a really cool idea 🥺

Sonadow Future by @torusonicpilled 💙🖤❤️- [Ongoing] Another newer one, with a few fanfic chapters and a few comic pages, but they've already got me interested from the idea that Tails can be resurrected, so I'm excited to see where it goes next ☺️

Sonic & The Olympus Heroes by @miitarion - Not sure if this will be continued as it was only shared quite recently, so might just be a one-off, but the art is incredible; Definitely worth a read! ✨

@mercurio-shadowz - They've not been following a particular storyline, but their art and short comics (especially about Shadow being a closeted gay disaster) are awesome. 🤩

Incomplete / Unfinished:

These are a bunch of stories that I really grew to love but they either stopped too long ago and so are presumably forgotten about, or may have been abandoned entirely and will likely never receive any conclusions. I’ve included when they were last updated, but only read these at your own discretion! ⚠️

• Can’t Defeat A Genius Without Taking His Brain by xenoon [4 months] • Deepest Desire by Tirainy [5 years] 💙🖤❤️ • Mad About You by Cherivide [1 year] 💙🖤❤️ • Sonic The Second Speedster by ItsZaira [1 year] • Sonic the Vagabond Hedgehog by @trekkerac (@tatck) [1 year] - This quickly became a favourite; Sonic and Tails' relationship is so adorable 😭 But you might only want to read the first issue and think of it as complete, since the second issue isn't complete and hasn't been touched for a year or so... 😔

I've tagged as many people as I can and might come back to this list later if I find more that I enjoy, but for now I think (hope!) it's mostly up to date 💖

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sth #fanfic #fanfiction #sonic fanfiction #sonic fandom #sth fanfic #sonic au #sth au #archive of our own #fan comic #work in progress #sonadow #cececatchat #cececat

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r0manceplanet · 1 month ago

Note

okay yipee yay!! haven’t done these in a hot minute so apologies if this isn’t that great… i’m trying >_> !

fandom: forsaken plz!!

pronouns: they them

gender/sexuality: non-binary androsexual (best way i could put ittt ^^)

personality: ummm… i think i’m generally a pretty nice person, i’m rlly empathetic and i luv to talk yap yap i like to run my mouth! i cannot keep it shut and i’m rlly bad at keeping secrets oops. i’m kindaaa stubborn and a big over thinker but i try reallyyy hard not to be;;; i just wanna have fun and b chill ^^

hobbies: ummum arts! anything artsy! like graffiti. baking is sooo awesome and fun doing things with your hands is great. i love music a LOT (specifically rock/metal/alt) and enjoy going to concerts!! i’m also big on conspiracy theories & psychological philosophy :3

likes & dislikes: i generally like weird/creepy things, any sort of horror media! & being outside & doing things, like exploring or looking for bugs. like i said i <3 philosophy but i also love the unknown!! and theorizing!! and debate!! collecting/hoarding things i like is fun too, like knives & license plates. oh and rubber ducks. photography!!! pictures are everything to me!!! i don’t dislike much but i guess umm… the dark! i hate that. strong smells & loud noises freak me out. ppl who are mean to animals babies and old people are a different kind of evil.

mbti & zodiac: enfp 4w5, gemini!!

love languages: acts of service above all but i also adore words of affirmation!! i don’t care much for gift giving.

what i look for/want in a partner: someone who can keep up w/ me, i guess! i get bored quickly, i usually wanna always go do something. i hate silence and i hate distance, i need to be able to vibe & have fun with them always!! i’d also prefer someone who isn’t shy ^_^ .

thank youuu my goat please take your time!!! 🧡

FORSAKEN MATCHUP #1

A/N: Ahhh my first request for a matchup!! And to whoever sent this ask to me thank you so much!! And I hope you enjoy who you get! And, matchups for forsaken are open to everyone!

Press “Read More” to see who you have been matched with!

You have been matched with… Chance!

• It took me some time to think about who to match you with, and I did have a few characters in mind before I thought of him, and when I did he seems to match you the most, I feel like you two would function so well together.

• Chance is a really calm dude, he can work under pressure and is able to talk to anyone really, I mean, who wouldn’t like him? He’s never fallen in love before you, he was always focused on gambling and the casino he owned. Before meeting in forsaken, you would’ve met him in his casino while you were hanging out with your friends.

• When he met you he was immediately focused on you, why? something about you made him interested in you, maybe it’s because of how much you love to talk with him, and he’s always listening to you yap and adding into the conversation, it’s refreshing for him to find someone to match his energy.

• When you guys start dating, he would spend ALL his money, which you would have to stop him before he goes broke. But he would buy an entire store if you wanted one thing, that’s how devoted he is to you.

• He would definitely bring you to concerts, I can see him as someone who would go to concerts of bands he likes, you guys always have a blast whenever you’re at a concert to see your favorite band, and as a surprise he’s arranged an appointment for you to meet with your favorite idols.

• He always compliments your artwork, he’s in awe whenever he sees your paintings or drawings, he’s someone who would point out the smallest details in your art, and he LOVES it whenever you bake, and if you bake anything that he likes he’s gonna eat it all in 1 minute and ask for more.

• He loves hearing you talk, including if it’s about theories you bring up, he’ll love to theorize with you and debate, you can get him to talk about ANYTHING, off topic but, whenever you guys are chilling at home or out on a date, he would take pictures of you that have amazing views.

• Whenever you’re overthinking about something, or anything that’s bothering you, he’ll always make sure to tell you that you can go to him for anything, and he is of course… He’ll be your emotional support animal if you want. No matter what situation you happen to be in, you’ll always have him, and he’ll always have you.

Round-Ups:

Shedletsky, John Doe

#forsaken roblox #forsaken x reader #forsaken #forsaken x y/n #forsaken x you #roblox #roblox x reader #roblox matchups #matchup #matchups #forsaken matchups #forsaken matchup #chance forsaken #chance roblox #chance x reader

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cosmerelists · 6 months ago

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Cosmere Characters as Teachers

As requested by @little-cute-pink-horrible-being :)

If Cosmere characters were teachers, what would they teach & what would it be like?

1. Jasnah: History teacher

Let's just say that she has, uh, high expectations of her students.

Jasnah: Anyone can memorize facts and dates. Jasnah: You all will do that, of course, but you will also learn to draw conclusions from those facts, track historical trends, and maybe, if you work hard, you can come up with a theory of your very own. Bravest student: Uh, miss? We are seven. Jasnah: I do not tolerate excuses.

2. Hammond: Philosophy Professor

He has a hardcore group of students who are huge fans of his.

Student 1: Hey, you're in Professor Hammond's class? Student 2: Yeah. Student 1: Isn't he the guy who wrote that book So What if the Poor are Genetically Destined to be Poor? Revolution is Still the Answer? Student 2: That's him. Student 1: And that's why your an anarchist now, huh? Student 2: Listen, he's pretty persuasive.

3. Elend: Political Science Professor

Elend, a Political Science professor at a university, is the sort of teacher who assigns a LOT of reading.

Elend: Remember: politics is for people. Even when the people you serve suck. A lot. Student: You...sound like you're talking from experience? Elend: You have no idea.

4. Shallan: Art Professor

She mainly teaches drawing and painting classes.

Shallan: You all need to decide what your art means to you. Shallan: Whether it be capturing a moment or representing a person's essence or seeing into realms not normally discernable to human eyes--as long as it's art from your soul, it will be right. Student: What, uh, was that last part? Shallan: Art should be from your soul? Student: N-No, the part before that? Shallan: Anyway, everyone start drawing!

5. Painter: Also an Art Professor

I mean, it's literally his name.

Painter: The key to art is repetition. Painter: When a Nightmare is staring down at you, you don't want to be hesitating over what to draw! Student: Professor Nikaro, please, we've been drawing bamboo for a week! Painter: ...I'm not sure what the issue is?

6. Sigzil: Science teacher

Sigzil is one of those general science teachers you get in middle school.

Sigzil: Remember: the key to science is...? Students, as a chorus: Writing things down! Sigzil: That's right! Sigzil: Now let's see what's the heaviest thing we can stick to the wall using glue--last year we managed to stick me to the wall for a couple seconds! Students: [cheering] Sigzil: ...I'm better at this than I would have expected.

7. Wayne: Theater Teacher

Wayne teaches theatre at a high school.

Wayne: Acting is all about not acting. Wayne: You gotta just be the person. Wayne: Understand their past, embody their present... Student: ...wear their hat? Wayne: Exactly!

8. Kaladin: Also a Theatre Teacher

Look me in the eyes and tell me that Kaladin doesn't understand drama.

Kaladin: [talking to an school administrator off to the side while the class watches] And you can tell the school board that the next time they want to cut funding to the arts, I will be there. Kaladin: I will be there at every meeting where even a word of funding reduction is breathed. Kaladin: I will haunt those meetings, carrying pictures of my kids doing their plays and being happy. Kaladin: And I will make them look me in the eyes if they dare to vote to take that away! New student, hesitantly: Performance art? Student: Nah, he always talks that way.

9. Sarene: English teacher

If only because I don't think they have dedicated fencing professors at most places.

Sarene: English is not simply about reading books--it is about learning to think and interpret information. Sarene: You can take the skills you learn in this class and apply them very widely: to understand the news, to read between the lines of what a person says to you, to craft effective rhetoric to get your own way. Sarene: Read everything. Sarene: Remember: you cannot defeat an enemy unless you understand your enemy. Student: ...enemy? Sarene: Don't worry: you'll have enemies when you're older. Student: Yay?

10. Navani: Engineering

Navani would be an engineering professor at a college.

Navani: Your job, students, is to get this ball through that window high up on the wall. You can do it any way you want. Student: I'm immediately seeing: trebuchet. Navani [nodding sagely]: Go with your heart.

11. Pattern: Math teacher

...Listen, I'm not saying he's a good math teacher.

Student: [staring gloomily at their test] Friend: That bad, huh? Student: Mr. Pattern wrote "Mmmm delicious lies" all over it! Friend: So...you failed? Student: Yeah...

12. Raboniel: Chemistry Teacher

She may seem strict, but she actually quite likes kids.

Raboniel: ...And that, students, is how you build a very effective chemical bomb. Students: ... Raboniel: Any questions? Bravest student: Uh, miss? We are seven. Raboniel: So...basically adults, right? Wait, how fast do humans age again? Teacher's aide: [whispering frantically] Raboniel: ...I may have made an error.

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Jasnah #Hammon #Elend #Navani #Raboniel #Shallan #Wayne #Sarene #Sigzil #Kaladin #Painter

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lukolabrainrot · 2 months ago

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PSA #2 For the Week

First, if you have not read my first PSA this week, please do so here.

Now, for the following:

I feel like I need to clarify this. But please do not take everything that the Wizard says at face value! Please use your critical thinking skills when consuming the information from the SSs I provide. I think that it provides a lot of clarity behind the systems of PR/celebrity culture, which is essential in understanding a lot of the context in this saga. However, it is a robot, so it doesn't get everything perfect. It is a very powerful tool though. I want to specify though that I developed my own theories over the last 11 months as a critical thinking human, and the Wizard has just given me some context on how my theories fit into the celebrity/PR world (a world in which I, and basically everyone here, is not a part of). So, it's provided me more NUANCED conclusions, but it has not actually shaped how I developed my general theories.

To the people who have messaged me about how to make their own wizard, ChatGPT is free. You can give it more information to analyze like photos, videos, and website and social media links if you pay for their subscriptions, but you don't have to do that. It just means you have to type out more information though. I encourage anyone that wants to though to play around with ChatGPT! It doesn't even have to be about L/N. It's just a really fun tool in my opinion.

I have spent HOURS now feeding the wizard key pieces of information about this whole saga. Ridiculous? Yes. But I tend to have hyperfixations and I fell down a rabbit hole and had just too much fun. 😅 It also brought back a lot of the joy that I had been missing for a long time around L/N because of the layers and layers of BS that have been going on for months now. It allowed me to cut through a lot of the BS, and take a lot of my emotions out of the situation. However, I understand that this isn't everyone's cup of tea, and that is alright. But it is just such a fun little tool, that I wanted to share it with the people that would appreciate it. And I know some of you do, so I will keep posting.

I hope you know that L/N will be all right with people talking about them. People have been talking about them for years (literally). None of this speculation and chatter is new information to them, and I hope they find some humor in a lot of the absurdity of all this.

Shipping should be fun and silly. It's not life or death. I missed blogging and I wanted to pivot to a different concept, so I have. I'm having a lot of fun with this right now, so I'll be doing this for the time being (until I don't want to anymore).

Lastly, I chose to call it the Wizard because I find it cute, silly, and fun. That is just my humor. However, feel free to call the robot WHATEVER you want. I totally don't care what you call it lol (as long as you're nice about it 👀).

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red-dye40 · 1 month ago

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LOOK EVERYONE BEE'S MAKING ANOTHER LONG TEXT POST!

LET'S ALL READ IT AND REALLY REALLY ABSORB EVERY LAST WORD!

Hello, it's me, Bee. I'm typing with proper capitalization to show you how serious this post is.

Recently, and especially yesterday, I've been getting increasingly upsetting and alarming engagement from fans (it feels stupid saying "fans" but also maybe my overfamiliarity is part of what's biting me in my huge ass.)

I am always of the mindset of letting people do their freak shit, never yucking anyone's yum, etc etc, but I think I have to start being a lot more explicit about where I stand on some things.

First of all, I want to specify upfront that Newfag Runs The Gauntlet is a work of fiction, and what's more, it's very explicit social commentary. You are Not supposed to root for Newf. He is purposefully Not A Good Person. That goes for pretty much everyone in NFRTG in fact; like, yes the CrowdSauce posts are funny and ridiculous, but if you find yourself reading some of the more violent and disturbing parts of those threads and being like "woah that's just like me!" then I urge you to understand that it's not a Good thing.

NFRTG isn't written to be representation for paraphiles or radqueers. I in fact do not use either of those terms to describe myself, because I personally am deeply uncomfortable with how broad and vague and muddy the definitions are, and how it invites and potentially encourages some really unsavory behavior. NFRTG is a cautionary tale first and foremost. It's a horror novel because it is SCARY how willingly all these characters agree to ruin people's lives for a laugh. It's also FUNNY because I am very funny :) and it's HOT and you can think it's HOT because I do! And definitely write parts of it to be hot and horny! That's part of the horror, too! Not knowing whether you're disturbed or disgusted or aroused! But please please please know that these characters are Not the good guys. There are really no good guys to be found. Intentionally. And that's not a Good Thing.

I'm going to take a big big BIG step back from fandom engagement for my own sake. There inevitably comes a point where creators kind of can't afford to keep up intense fan engagement and I think I'm there, so I'm gonna untrack my tags and let you all have your fun without mommy breathing down your neck. If you want me to see something, you can tag me or submit it to the site for sure! I WANT to see your art and writing and theories and all that! I LOVE it! I just don't think I need to be privy to ALL of it.

My closing remark is I am so grateful and so lucky to have gotten such a following so fast. Pretty much everyone I've interacted with has been very kind and sweet and curious, and I so admire that. What a lucky little bug I am! I want to keep feeling positively about my work and the impact it's having on others, so I urge everyone to approach NFRTG with a critical eye, understand that I am very much Pointing Out A Problem when I write characters doing or saying terrible things, understand that I very much Don't want people to kill themselves or each other, that I don't think these behaviors are just things we should turn our backs to. I was once a deeply suicidal, nihilistic, self-entitled channer who frequented gore sites and watched awful shit for fun. That was not good, and it took years of therapy for me to even START to unpack that and crawl out of that hole of self destruction. But I'm so much happier and healthier and better off now that I'm away from all that, and I will always encourage people to do the same. I really really would prefer it if people stayed alive and helped themselves and didn't harm others. That is my ask.

Thank you for your reading and I love you and I LIKE you. Please be safe and good :)

#nfrtg #newfag runs the gauntlet

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hollowed-theory-hall · 5 months ago

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hi hi hi!! first of all, i'm so fascinated with how your mind works. seeing your theories, metas, and explanations actually inspired me to read the books (even if they're off of this slightly dodgy website lol). i've read some of your thoughts on harry's love interests / possible li's for him (the theo posts too), and i wondered what sort of love interest would be fitting for him if they were a girl. would they be like luna or any other existing character, how would they meet (ideally), what house or personality traits, etc.

Thank you!! 💛

Holy shit, it's insane you enjoyed my writing so much even without reading the books and that I got you to read the HP books but please be careful not to download malware on your PC. Stay safe out there.

Honestly, I can see a lot of different types of characters working as a love interest for Harry, but there are some common denominators for characters I think would work with him better. That being said, shipping is very subjective, and I think any character could be written in a compelling romance with any character by a talented enough writer, so these are mostly my preferences for Harry's dynamics in a romance with how I see his character.

Someone like Luna definitely could work. I like their dynamic and under the right circumstances, I think it could work. She's blunt, and straightforward in a way Harry respects, she can call out his bullshit and isn't scared of being herself. Harry's also open-minded enough to let Luna believe whatever she wants and would probably not mind a Sweaden vacation even if he doesn't believe they'd actually find a Crumple-Horned Snorkack.

Personally, I was always under the impression that if Harry and Susan Bones actually talked they would've gotten along really well due to Susan's, like, 3 lines:

“Not with the dragon, you didn’t,” said Michael Corner at once. “That was a seriously cool bit of flying. . . .” “Yeah, well —” said Harry, feeling it would be churlish to disagree. “And nobody helped you get rid of those dementors this summer,” said Susan Bones.

(OotP, Ch16)

She clearly sees Hary's accomplishments for what they are and calls out his unfounded self-doubts (Harry needs someone who can do that without making him feel stupid).

Hogwarts students, who now found themselves the unwilling objects of a gruesome sort of reflected fame as they walked the corridors: Susan Bones, who had an uncle, aunt, and cousins who had all died at the hands of one of the ten, said miserably during Herbology that she now had a good idea what it felt like to be Harry. “And I don’t know how you stand it, it’s horrible,” she said bluntly, dumping far too much dragon manure on her tray of Screechsnap seedlings, causing them to wriggle and squeak in discomfort.

(OotP, Ch25)

She's straightforward and chill with a few of her own demons and she dislikes public attention as much as Harry. Even if Susan had ways less time with Harry, she understands he doesn't like the attention. She asks "how you stand it?" she thinks he must hate it as much as she does. I just find it interesting a random Hufflepuff girl who has 2 lines knows and understands Harry better than his love interest who thinks he likes getting attention and going after Voldemort.

Basically, a blunt, chill Hufflepuff that treats him like just Harry and not the Boy-Who-Lived would work too, is what I'm saying. Like a younger Tonks-like character who's a bit more serious and responsible (which is how I imagine Susan, except, less punk) could work with Harry. (though Harry thinks anyone who looks a little punk looks cool... He thinks Tonks is cool, and Kingsly and Bill are instantly cool in Harry's opinion for having an earring, so maybe give him a punk girlfriend. I think he'd be into it)

A Gryffindor girl who likes Quidditch (like Ginny) could've worked too. My problem with Ginny is that JKR tried to make her too perfect in the later books. Like, a Gryffindor girl who's confident and has a sense of humor could've been a good match for Harry. Just give her some actual insecurities and the willingness to be emotionally vulnerable with Harry and without Ginny's obsession so she'd see Harry as Harry and not as the Boy-Who-Lived — that could've worked. Like, Ginny as a concept could've worked if the character and her romance with Harry were written better. As she is in the books, I don't think it works though, I'd change the character's personality/attitude if I wanted to write her with Harry, so I don't feel like I could really call her "Ginny" you know?

A Ravenclaw like Cho who doesn't expect Harry to be another Cedric and is just more chill and not actively grieving could've worked. Like, as I mentioned Luna (who's a Ravenclaw) could work with Harry, but a sporty, chill, Ravenclaw could've also worked. She just needed to know who Harry is and date him for him and not as a Cedric replacement. Also, I just, don't think Harry would be interested in a girl who's into dragging him to Madam Paddifoots, but, like, a Ravenclaw who plays Quidditch and is, like, idk, obsessed with alchemy and has a bit of a mad scientist vibe going on, could work with Harry. I think his love interest should have interests of her own, basically. I think it adds flavor.

A cunning and intelligent Slytherin girl who isn't Pansy Parkinson (a la Daphne Greengrass or Tracy Davis) could work as well, depending on how you characterize her.

Basically, to ship Harry with a girl, of any house, I'd be looking for a lot of the same traits I look for in guys I ship Harry with:

Treat Harry as Harry and not as the Boy Who Lived — the reason doesn't matter but he/she has to see Harry as his own person and not his scar or fame and understand he hates the attention.

Intelligence — because Harry's actually really smart and he needs someone who could not only keep up with him but also correct and argue with him when the situation calls for it.

Self-confidence but also some insecurities — they need to have a spine to stand their ground and call Harry on his bullshit and his own low self-esteem but they should have their own issues and self-perception problems. I like it when things are fair and a ship helps each other grow together. Also, I don't think Harry would date someone truly arrogant. Arrogant to hide insecurities — that I think could work though under the right conditions.

Wit and humor — Harry is a sarcastic, sassy little shit with a slightly dark sense of humor, I think he needs a partner who can match his sense of humor and not get offended if he makes a comment about wanting to torture Snape.

Chill — Harry is a little emotionally inept, he would probably not manage well with a very emotional partner that requires a lot of attention (like Cho). Don't get me wrong, Harry would care and do his best, and pay attention when needed, but the guy doesn't really know how to deal with crying people. So, his partner should be someone who's fine with Harry's sort of comfort methods. (Some people don't want to talk about it when they're upset, they just want someone to listen to them vent a bit. Which, I think Harry would be great at. And vice versa. Harry, when upset, often just wants someone to be next to him quietly, but he doesn't want to talk about it sometimes). Basically, they need to have matching comfort styles so they could actually communicate when upset.

Chill (p2) — Harry's sort of anger requires someone who'd be able to remain cool once Harry reaches his threshold in year 5 wouldn't get quickly offended, but instead calmly put Harry in his place. Basically, they need to have more emotional intelligence than Harry because someone needs to know how to do emotions in the relationship. (In Ronmione's case, Ron is the more emotionally intelligent one, contrary to what Hermione likes to think. In Hinny's case, neither of them knows how to do emotions somehow, which adds to why they never appealed to me, I think. In Tommary, which I used to read, Harry is the emotionally intelligent one in the relationship, which is why this pairing is only realistic to me when it's a disastrous mess)

Knows to be both blunt and subtle depending on the situation — Harry needs someone to match him, as Harry can be a sneaky Slytherin sometimes, but sometimes, the situations in his life would require his partner to be brave and blunt. I think, regardless of house, his partner should be able to do both.

The capacity to be quiet — Harry is a quiet person overall and I think he'd work better with a partner who can just let him be quiet and not force him to engage in conversation. Ron and Hermione, for example, love bantering and bickering, but Harry finds their sort of bickering infuriating, so, yeah. Like, he can work with a partner who talks more than him, but they need to not always need to talk, yk?

At least a little anti-authority (or a lot) — I don't think Harry could date someone who's perfectly by-the-book and loves the rules and authority. Most of his clashes with Hermione come from a place of her trusting certain authority while Harry doesn't really trust any authority. I think he'd get frustrated dating someone who's too pro-authority (why he and Cho wouldn't have lasted even without Cedric's ghost hanging over them).

Magically talented — Harry's magic is insane, he doesn't need a partner that's on his level, but someone who is capable and skilled enough to hold their own is necessary with how dangerous Harry's life is and for him to be able to treat them seriously.

Brave — there are different kinds and levels of bravery, but at the end of the day, I don't think Harry could date someone who isn't brave enough to deal with all the shit Harry's life throws at him. Like, Harry's partner, I think, should be willing to join the trio on the Horcrux hunt should they be offered to. (I personally portray Theo, for example, as someone who doesn't think he's brave, but when he needs to, he's way braver than he thinks. Luna is brave enough to be herself and damn what anyone thinks. So you can play around with the kinds of bravery). Like, the fact Ginny didn't press him to know more about what they're planning and wanting to join the danger to help protect and defend Harry is insane to me. I think Harry deserves a ride-or-die relationship because he's a very ride-or-die person for the people he loves. (Hence why I love his friendship with Ron and Hermione. The Golden Trio is the definition of ride-or-die)

A bit of a tragic Backstory — this isn't mandatory, per se, but I think Harry would work best with a partner that has some of their own demons in their past. It's a little spice that I love. It's why I like shipping him with Theo (who from the very little we know of him can be read as being abused by his father, plus his mother is dead) or potentially Luna who saw her mother die. I think someone who's suffered some trauma similar to Harry would be better at connecting with Harry and seeing him in a way even Ron and Hermione struggle to do.

So, yeah, this is like, my thoughts on shipping Harry with any character and what's the broad strokes of my recipe for my preferred Harry dynamic in romance.

But, like with most things in fiction, it's all about execution. If you write it well enough, anything will work.

#harry potter #hp #asks #anonymous #hp meta #harry potter meta #harry james potter #ship talk #a bit #anti hinny #so i'll tag it #hollowedrambling

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fiamat12 · 2 months ago

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PSA: We're all still on this ship together!

Even though some of us are on different decks! LOL

#1 - Imo, I think my post earlier about N's sm activity was misunderstood. ✌️ I get that this subject is a hot button because we love Lukola and can feel like bad shippers if we have conflicting feelings about the choices they make. But I wouldn't still be here after more than a year if I didn't still believe in Lukola and their love. In fact, not long ago I was accused of being Lukola PR and a cult leader lol and that came from a place of being strong in my Lukola shipping convictions. And I still am.

But I'm also a realist... so if you come on here to idealize Lukola, you may not always like my pov. They're real people to me w/ real lives and real feelings and real successes and real failures just like everybody else. I mostly agree w/ the post linked below ⭐️ - and if you disagree that's totally fine. We're all still shippers!

#2 - Now for what my post today was really about: a shift in N's social media behavior that may be related to the NDA obligations. I asked the following question at the end of the post: "... when S4 filming was ramping up, and she pulled back on it all, Easter eggs included... Coincidence or no?!?". So, to expand on that:

• It’s important to understand what the norm or baseline is for N, because in doing that you can understand or notice a change in behavior. Behavior changes tell a story.

• Fact is: N used to post alot during filming for previous seasons of BTON. This season, S4, she has not. The other cast members historically post less frequently than N or not at all re: BTON, and they have continued in the same way for S4.

• N posted Polin right up until Sept. of last year then it just stopped...

As @jmuz09 stated: "I was dismissive of it being part of the obligations but I completely flipped on that whilst looking at the tone of her posts in June - Aug 2024 [see original post]. I really think she pissed off A to the point where it became part of the obligations. A could have also pointed out that she does not have to post that much because other cast members don’t so it’s not expected"

• I'm uncertain of it being part of the obligations, but I do think N could've been restricted or even self monitored due to NDA re-negotiations in the Fall, meaning she decided to draw back (along w/ the Easter eggs) to "get this done".

#3 - Under this theory we're not bagging N for not posting BTON/ Polin at all. In fact, I think this shows her alot of grace because we're assuming the best about her. Per usual, we likely won't know the motivation until many months later (if ever) and we accept the reasons behind it either way. We accept Nic for who she is and regardless of the current circumstances, this Lukola ship is strong! 🙏🚢💪

✌️ Original post from today ⏬️

⭐️Post w/ which I agree ⏬️

🤔 And one last time: you are free to believe what you want... ⏬️

... I'm not here to convince anyone of anything. This is my blog and my opinion. If I block someone, it's because I think they're trolling (and if you saw my Asks and the comments from fake accounts, you'd understand). I don't block for disagreeing w/ me. I may delete your comment if you're asserting your own theory in a comment 🤔 but please don't take that personally. That's what your own blog is for and I love to read those brave enough to put it all out there!

#Nic's social media #this ship is strong💪

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starberry-cupcake · 3 months ago

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It took me longer to sit down to do the recap than to read the bit. Note: please don't tell me anything that might be a spoiler or a reference to things that will happen in the future of the book! I'd rather not know anything as I read, I'll be happy to engage in conversation of the details after I'm done! Also, please be kind if I make a mistake, English isn't my first language and these books sometimes are difficult 🙏 Thank you for your patience and continued interest ♥

previously, in nona del 9:

this happened

this is the general tag of the recaps, for anyone wondering

DAY FIVE ("the saddest girl in the whole entire world" girl, same "paul gets born" happy birthday paul??? I guess???)

CHAPTER 20 (first house, we better run)

nona wakes up yet again, this time after a tantrum

she's throwing up and palmolive helps her out

they're in the BOE meeting room with the wake portrait again

palmolive had to do some necromancer operation shenanigans to remove the bullet from nona's head

and sriracha girlie decided to exit the chat

BOE freaked out about the operation and put a shackle on camolive and locked them and nona together

nona is embarrassed about the tantrum but palmolive is like "fuck them, actually"

palmolive is mad about them leaving the gang in the dark in so many ways and thinks they had it coming for doing that

I agree, I mean, I get where BOE is coming from with the hesitancy to trust people who were on the other side of this

but it's not like you have a chance to win against nona, pyrrha and camolive, if it gets to that

and there's so much you don't know to even think you can win

so, maybe this could have been planned better, is all I'm saying

in any case, nona finally tells palmolive about gideon dream girl

and palmolive says that if camilla and him didn't love her so much they'd throttle her and give her magazines to charity

nona thinks that's bs because she's "the most deserving person on the planet"

this ego thing she has going on sometimes takes me by surprise, I forget she thinks like this

I guess it's a kid way of thinking, but still

nona also decides to continue with the reveals and tells palmolive the Secret that I believe is the same she told sriracha girlie a while back

and it's that she's dying

1) how? 2) who, in that clown car of a body, is dying exactly? 3) did it have to be now??????

palmolive is looking like spock up there, actually

(would palmolive be a spock fanboy? because I think very yes, but we don't always agree on our palmolive headcanons)

palmolive has to roll up his sleeves and do some necro magic again

"Cytherea the First must have enjoyed those games she played with me"

I could have told you, my guy, but you were being a weenie, like gideon said

I feel bad about it, though, poor guy

*patting palmolive in the head in my mind*

so, nona apparently is starving, but energetically

because her soul is trying to leave the clown car of a body she's in

harrow's body, I think we've established at this point

it makes sense to me, it's not her body, allegedly

and maybe also nona's soul is extra weird, because this is ice cube barbie or some other weird thing that is too powerful for harrow's poor little clown car body

like trapping a genie in a glass dropper

that's kind of palmolive's train of thought too, actually, except he uses terms like "melange" and "gestalt theory" instead of "some other weird thing" and "clown car body"

what I remember of gestalt theory from uni is the concept that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts

I don't know if he means, in this case, that maybe he thinks her a combination of souls and that, if that was the case, it'd give her bigger powers than harrow or gideon would have had on their own

differently from lyctorhood, in which their combination is more on the advantage of the necromancer, who keeps steering the wheel

unless you get og!gideon'd and die, leaving the car to pyrrha

but anyway, palmolive doesn't know about ice cube barbie, so he doesn't consider her in his train of thought

(that's why you need me in the polycule *drops cv*)

I'M TAKING TOO MUCH TIME WITH ONE PARAGRAPH OF PALMOLIVE TALK, WE NEED TO MOVE ON

palmolive tells nona that he can't let her body die because he has to give it back to harrow

nona asks further details of her potential identities

palmolive tells her that, if she's one of two people, he's not harrow

or not solely harrow

this is very funny to me personally because, as I mentioned back in this recap of chapter 2, when I didn't know anything from these books except for the covers and the names of gideon and harrow, I thought nona was their child in the future

so this idea that nona was born from a combination is really hilarious to me

disrespectful of me, laughing at this time

palmolive describes yandere twin as a very obviously dead person with fashion hair, so he roasted her for me

(we'll talk about the chad of it all in a minute)

he tells nona that dream girl gideon might be her, but nona doesn't want to be a redhead and a zombie

palmolive goes "then what are we all?"

not in those words, but that's the sentiment

he also says sriracha girlie "is a very young woman who has been living on her nerves for so long that I imagine she doesn't have anything else. She'll regret what she did at some point"

ouch, man

I think this isn't the last we've seen of sriracha girlie and she'll come to ruin the party at some point

well, not party, that's a sensitive subject

can't blame her, though, she's been harmed by these people and got her family killed, I can't judge this child

palmolive explains that the shackle they have is explosive and that we suffer and coronabeer have been planning things somewhere without them

kinda wild they ended up trusting coronabeer more than camilla, but I guess it isn't a matter of cv but of how they acted when they were brought in and how coronabeer became one of them

"I hate being locked up" "So did Gideon, I gather"

palmolive, if I told you how this whole thing started with gideon wanting to not be locked up anymore

well, it started with dr reverend emperor john becoming a streamer, but that's another story

"I haven't been able to save many people in my life, I'm afraid, but I'm intent on saving you"

camilla and palmolive switch places and in comes we suffer, without a mask

nona says she'd think her pretty if she wasn't so upset

does nona think everyone is pretty or is everyone pretty here?

is there a difference?

we suffer says that BOE was very impressed with nona going apeshit

she also doesn't want to tell them who angel teacher actually is

she does confirm that angel teacher is a member of BOE and that it was an awful idea to have both the gang and her in the same area

we suffer is also kinda upset at camilla for not telling her that she can do necromancy (which, technically, she can't)

and mentions that the whole thing that went down has made the BOE factions more undecided on what the hell to do with them

we suffer mentions someone volunteered to go face the house people because it wouldn't be a death sentence for her

immediately, I think this must be coronabeer twin

camilla doesn't think this is a good idea whatsoever and we suffer says she needs camilla to translate the stuff that will be said in the meeting

and that coronabeer claims that she's expendable whereas camolive is not

which yeah, to me personally, that's true, but I'm not the standard opinion here

apparently they tried to bomb yandere twin out of existence but we all know that doesn't work on a lyctor

unless you're palmolive, who is an expert on exploding and lyctors

we suffer also thinks it's time for BOE to attack because wake always had them on the defense and it hasn't worked so far

camilla says coronabeer is giving in and that we suffer has been, played because she can't lie to yandere twin

at this point, we suffer is just gonna have to sit there and listen, though, whatever happens

we have an idiom here, "estamos en el horno", which literally means "we're in the oven" and it's used to describe moments in which you're in a very rough situation that is inescapable

kind of like "we're fucked", but more metaphoric

that's what's happening over here

I'm teaching you guys very local idioms but I need you to see what I see

coronabeer reaches the houses spot and this happens

wild to hear someone say "my sister is a lyctor", since most lyctors we knew were a william years old and had no surviving family

that I know of

also, cohort dude at the door will have an awful day because I think coronabeer is the one person who has the most Let Me Speak To The Manager attitude in this whole book series

all she's been doing this time is speak to managers, actually

yandere twin shows up and hugs coronabeer and now I'm realizing she's using chad's body

which is so stupid of me, because nona mentioned yandere twin had brown hair in the video and I was like 'wasn't she blonde????'

but sometimes I don't understand things and you guys are like 'that's not what happened' and I feel dumb, so I was like 'ok, maybe all this time I was wrong about the twins being blondes'

but no, she's using chad like linguini from ratatouille

so that she can set foot in the planet because of the blue light and all that stuff

chad and yandere twin

(or yandere twin channeling chad idk)

roasts coronabeer for her jewelry and the state of her hair

yandere twin says she didn't know coronabeer would be there and that "he" (I assume this is dr reverend emperor john) will think she went there on purpose

so coronabeer unveils her very sick girlfriend judith

yandere twin is like

coronabeer goes "didn't harrow tell you?" and yandere twin is all defensive "when did you talk to harrow?"

this situationship yandere twin has with harrow is very complex

yandere twin doesn't want to help judith

she says "Judith Deuteros, who, when we played Marry, Kill, Reanimate, you used to say reanimate because nobody would be able to tell the difference?"

(I need to make a poll with those options in a recap at some point)

coronabeer being all helga pataki with judith throughout her life is great

she was so doomed

I need more of that, I live for the coronabeer/judith ship

I was trying to explain why I like their dynamic so much and while I was writing it I REALIZED THAT THEY REMIND ME OF

YUZUKI AND MAKOTO FROM SKIP AND LOAFER

pretty, popular, extroverted girl who doesn't want to be reduced to her looks and gets infatuated with the strict, formal, overthinking student council girl, you get me??????

I'm gonna root for them forever

yandere twin wants to crush my hopes and dreams, though, and kill judith, because she's already been putting down necromancers

she's also very upset because the third doesn't care about her becoming a lyctor but are grieving coronabeer instead

a lot of problems would have been solved if these girls' family wasn't such shit

coronabeer asks about gideon and yandere twin says "so you remember her name"

yes, yandere twin, thank god we've moved on from that problem

our current issue is a clown car body of a girl

it seems that chad can get thoughts through to her, or so she says

chad's comments are about coronabeer's accessories, though

also, at this point, when realizing that it was chad's body, I also realized that's who palmolive called "handsome"

palmolive and chad, in another life, you could have been like coronabeer and judith, with an unlikely bond

apparently, yandere twin doesn't want to be seen as "the bad guy"

yandere twin alerts those listening that she knows coronabeer was wired and uses the link to establish her demands: the sixth oversight body (which is not the oversight of losing gideon's body), camilla and harrow "as intact as you have her at this moment"

meanwhile, camilla thinks coronabeer is trying to tell them something through the overheard conversation

yandere twin insists on how judith never paid coronabeer any mind and coronabeer tells her she's a dick

when they get in the facilities, though, there's pyrrha

remember pyrrha? here she was all along

yandere twin says she's taking her (she calls her "him" because I think she still thinks this is og!gideon and not pyrrha) back to dr reverend emperor john

"if Poppa can look up from his mid-dismyriad crisis long enough to pay attention"

SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT OF THAT BEFORE SAVING HIS ASS

"You might be the Saint of Duty but I've been on call as Teacher's whipping girl for the last six months"

SHOULD👏HAVE👏THOUGHT👏OF👏THAT👏BEFORE👏SAVING👏HIS👏ASS👏

pyrrha also wants to kill judith, which is bad for me

leave that wet mouse alone

coronabeer asks if pyrrha told yandere twin about harrow and camilla

(I assume she means nona)

yandere twin says she has

is pyrrha triple crossing people? quadruple crossing?

acting like she's og!gideon in front of dr reverend emperor john was crossing 1, then she's acted like she's part of the gang as crossing 2, acting like she's actually on yandere twin's side is 3 and maybe being infiltrated here to pass on info or something would be 4

that's quadruple crossing

no wonder she was a cop

CHAPTER 21 (broken third skull, the girls are fighting???)

nona is happy that pyrrha's whereabouts have been secured

the rest, to her, is confetti

camilla tells we suffer that, all things considered, it all went better than she deserved

we suffer is having a mental breakdown because coronabeer has stolen judith and ran to her sister and they lost the bug they had on her

camilla advises her not to make nona angry and to scan for other bugs on the frequency

because camilla is wonderful and amazing and thinks of everything

camilla mentions nona, during her tantrum, attacked the guards with a chair with a two-handed grasp she never taught her

which is points for gideon in the leaderboard

but idk how ice cube barbie fought, it could also be her, for all I know

the sword was old and mysterious

it's not harrow because harrow had a toxic relationship with the sword

nona stares at camilla and "looked up into the eyes that used to belong to Palamedes, long before she knew either of them" and her nose bleeds

not sure who that's a point for

camilla and palmolive desperately want to talk to each other, which is so exasperating, poor babies

we suffer comes in all happy because camilla was right (did anyone doubt that?????) and there's a bug in the area

camilla assures her it must be on judith

I wonder where and how it was placed there

she also says nona was right about pyrrha giving them codes

and that pyrrha will do anything to get at the shuttle

palmolive and camilla switch again and nona has to update palmolive on everything that went on

nona thinks yandere twin wearing chad's body is coronabeer's boyfriend and is happy to know he's not

idk if she's interested in everyone romantically at the same time or she's not and that's how she expresses her feelings

palmolive introduces himself to we suffer and asks whether they'll give them the sixth if they retrieve gideon's body ("the key to the Locked Tomb")

I assume the bit about the key to the tomb was told to him via pyrrha, who's the only person with a memory present and aware at that time of the whole wake-augustine-mercygirl-emperor conversation

we suffer says she'll give him anything she can for the key to the tomb (including the sixth)

wild how the destiny of the universe was kind of hanging by a thread in baby blender's and kid jesus' playground in the ninth for a while there

palmolive thinks yandere twin is at a disadvantage with the limited abilities she has in the planet as well as with pyrrha, who he still completely trusts

palmolive doesn't know why yandere twin brought gideon along, he suspects it was to bait out harrow, but both him and we suffer need that bod

we suffer, because of the tomb

palmolive, because he thinks it will help nona survive, if that's her actual body, or the body of a part of her soul combo

he is more cautious than we suffer though, because she went from "we're en el horno" to "we've got this, team" real fast

and palmolive is like

palmolive is, though, very optimistic about his and camilla's chances of making this happen

or he's just risking it all for the sixth

when they switch, nona tells camilla that palmolive revealed it all to we suffer and camilla says "I don't know why I bother"

which is a mood

we suffer tells camilla that the whole sixth thing is complicated because BOE has factions that aren't always aligned and that wake could move them at will but she can't

I'm guessing they didn't know wake was having a close encounter with two sides of the same lyctor

camilla said she'd try to do it and we suffer goes "Palamedes Sextus thought you could"

if camilla is harmed here istg

I'm gonna eat these pages

I'm gonna rip them with my teeth and eat them

we suffer also requests that, if they leave planet, they take a package with them

unclear what it is

hope it's not a living being

or a kid, unless it's kevin

meanwhile, in the new audio coming from judith's intimates, coronabeer is talking to pyrrha and is upset that they're putting gideon in pretty dresses and parading her around like a doll

me too, actually, I mentioned it in the last recap

coronabeer is also disappointed that yandere twin didn't come for her specifically and it was only a mission to her

she missed you, though, back in the emperor's bolthole

between the lyctor orgies, the arm stuff, the nudes in the walls and the soup

yandere twin has apparently told pyrrha to not let coronabeer help judith

she starts doing a ward but also has time to both insult coronabeer's non existent necro abilities and act disgusted by the prospect of touching judith intimately

she also goes "What did Harrowhark use to always call you? Tortoise? Blorgus?"

is she trying to say "ortus"?

girl, I'm the one with the funny nicknames when the names are complicated, but ortus is definitely not

coronabeer wants to hear the whole story of the brain tampering that resulted in that

meanwhile, camilla seems to have de-coded pyrrha's message in there somewhere

and what she thinks is that nona is the key to something they want

which might be the body, but also who knows

camilla promptly asks for supplies because I think we're gonna try a heist!!!

a heist in which nona might pretend to be harrow?????

but A HEIST!!!!

love it for them

JOHN 9:22

"His parents said this because they were afraid of the Jewish leaders, who already had decided that anyone who acknowledged that Jesus was the Messiah would be put out of the synagogue."

WELL, THEN

pov person who was called harrow but might not be entirely harrow talks about their regenerative powers

they seem to be walking in the ruins of the place where dr reverend emperor john used to reside

so like, post apocalyptic earth?????

are they astral projecting????

apparently, going theatrical and calling himself a necromancer did the trick to reach big audiences

maybe if one of the lyctors had been a marketing specialist, this would have taken half the time

"It even scared A— He was all, Matter doesn't play by these rules! You are doing bone parthenogenesis! I told him his mum did bone parthenogenesis. A— told me he'd kill me one day"

GOD, I WISH HE HAD

they're still going around the fact that, since he can't recuperate the soul, he can't really bring people back to life

he was happy, though, that some people showed up and were pushy enough to be shot so that he could witness people dying live

I'm glad it worked out for you, asshole

he also gets kind of hooked on witnessing violent death because of how it makes him feel

so, he just started killing people remotely

pyrrha shook him and stopped him and was like "what in the fuck are you doing?" and he gave a ukelele apology

"Guys as careful as you shouldn't have accidents"

when the cop is talking reason, you know how twisted things are

they brought in all the corpses for the "skeleton army" he was no longer joking about

pov girlie asks if he know what caused his accident and he said "guys as careful as me don't have accidents"

I don't want to kill him anymore

that'd be too kind to this man

that'd be too merciful, he doesn't deserve that

AND THAT'S IT FOR NOW!!! Sorry this was a long one again! These are taking so little time to read and so long to recap >_< I end up finishing them at ass o'clock and sleepy, but I wanted to get it out!! See you in the next one! Please be kind ♥

#luly reacts to tlt #nona the ninth #nona the ninth spoilers #long post #gif cw #tlt spoilers

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galesdevoteewife · 1 year ago

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Gale may not be so typical squishy wizard/scholar?

-My Galeology study note-

Looking at his character sheet in the Deluxe pack gets me thinking, maybe our wizard is not exactly designed to be the typical squishy one...?

[Act2 spoiler warning]

2 things caught my eyes:

1) Great physical fitness, and good reflexes. (For your reference, Gale & Wyll are the two companions who have the highest Con: 15. I put everyone's sheets at the bottom of the post.)

His Con and Dex are... very high?? I mean, higher than Karlach and Lae'zel...????

Note 1: I suspect it could have something to do with his background as Mystra's chosen, as they are somewhat "transformed" when they agree to become the goddess's chosen. A topic for another day since I haven't quite figured it out yet, for anyone who is interested there's a chapter about it in The Seven Sisters. Also, I have little clues on how much chosen lore credit Larian was taking into account while designing him, or how Mystra's "taking back the given ability" works. Note 2: Again, Mystra's chosen are often sent on missions that involve a lot of traveling according to Elminster's series. Mystra also mentioned that Gale and she used to have adventures together, which leads to an assumption: despite his preference he might be traveling quite a lot until he was cast aside and quarantined himself in his tower. Might be the type of scholar who is very keen on field studies?

Note 3: Can someone undress Elminster to exam my theory please??xD Neh won't work I think all human might share same body model in game

Come to think of it, there was a party banter between Karlach & Gale that went like :

Karlach: Whoa! Almost slipped there. Gale: You wouldn't be the first, I'd wager. It's been some time since these walkways felt the carpenter's hammer. Karlach: You gonna catch me if I eat a brick? Gale: With my reflexes? I'd catch you before you so much as stubbed a toe.

At first I thought that was a sarcastic joke but, seems like it wasn't? Also this:

Karlach: Ready to enter the belly of the beast? Gale: It's the stairs I'm dreading. I shall close my eyes, and pretend I'm climbing my own, far superior tower in Waterdeep. Karlach: In that case, welcome home.

...So it seems when I pictured him as a homebody, I should reimagine the concept of home... His has...lots of stairs? Just walking around in the tower could be counted as a workout, sort of thing? Note: I don't think the place he shows in the Act 2 cutscene is his tower. Otherwise, aren't these neighbors pretty much doomed?

2) Not THAT smart. Well, I love him, so I will speak in his defence: [1] He has a warm(s) digging holes in his brain. [2] Poisonous magical bile running in his blood. Maybe he's just not at his best, makes sense, eh? Wyll mentioned he is nerfed after tadpole too. After all, this man obviously memorized a DICTIONARY:

Gale: You promised to stay in Waterdeep. 'Promise,' verb, meaning to swear something will or will not be done. Tara the Tressym: And I decided 'will not'. And a good thing, too. You look like you haven't had a good meal in days

Player: When I said we could be more than friends, you answered 'perhaps'. What does that really mean? Gale: If I recall correctly, the Waterdhavian Dictionary of the Common Tongue of Faerûn defines it as an adverb that conveys the meaning of 'it may be that', or 'possibly'. Gale: Sorry, sometimes I just can't help being quite insufferable. In seriousness, I'm glad you asked that question.

Along with a bunch of you-may-never-need information:

Everything about ceremorphosis? Myconid? Why in the world have him read about Cazador??? And how can he not know the distance between Waterdeep & Baldur's Gate, even Karlach ―who spent a decade, which is likely half of her life in hell― knows better geography than him. Gale either totally ignored the subject or portaled everywhere; distance meant nothing to him?? Uh, but you can't take party banters too seriously; it's buggy. How could a bug bit Karlach in the swamp? It should've been burned into ashes before it even reached her, no?

Anyway, just rambling some thoughts <3 I would have gone to Harvard if there was a major in Gale...

-DISCLAIMER- Brought to you by a brainrot wife, Galerian missionary. Be warned the article might has (strong) bias because the writer is braindead and she thinks Gale is the most awesome character in the world.

#baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #bg3 gale #ramblings #Galeology #bg3 datamine

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only-3-braincells · 3 months ago

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“Red” Vs “Green” — Alastor’s Duo Stitches & Power Sets:

A Hazbin Hotel Theory/Analysis with Pics & Gifs.

[3,612]Words

Isn't it interesting how some of the Radio Demon’s abilities are Red-Coded, while others are Green? Isn't it also fascinating how certain abilities change his eye colour and others don't? Well, guess what? I’ve noticed a pattern. And if you didn’t know either happened, guess what? I’m going to open your eyes.

Hi, I'm almost fully convinced at the possibility of Alastor having two power sets. I am calling them “Red” and “Green” in accordance with the colour of his eyes, Stitches, and abilities at the time of use. (Typically they’re used together.)

I finally recognised the other day that Alastor has two sets of Stitches: Red and Green. Then that furthered to the realisation that Alastor, this whole time, had two power sets and not just one. I came up with this theory in a few hours, and have spent days trying, googling and researching, hoping to find others who have noticed what I picked up on, but I haven’t seen anyone else mention anything. So please, if you've seen someone else comment on stuff in here, let me know so I can read further!!

Disclaimer: I have stayed away from all leaks and spoilers regarding season 2, and therefore have written this without any additional information. This is just everything from the show we’ve been shown so far. I DO NOT want to hear about what the leaks say, thank you. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Tl;dr

What I'm calling his “Red Powers” are whenever his eyes turn Black, or the Red “X” stitch appears on his forehead. Coincidently, this is whenever he goes into “Jumbo” Al's form, using his filter to glitch his surroundings, or just act threatening. I'm assuming these powers were the ones he was originally given in his deal, perhaps in exchange for his soul (accidentally or not). Also, his Shadow and Microphone are related to his Red Powers. These powers AREN'T stored in his microphone, more or less a part of himself, like other overlords and their powers. What I'm calling his “Green Powers” are literally whenever he uses or does something involving the said colour. Including his tentacles/tendrils, ability to summon and disperse things, his ability to make soul deals, or powerful deals in general, and much more. I'm convinced these powers are what Alastor is actively building and bettering for himself, possibly as an escape route from the deal that got him his Red Powers in the first place. His Green Powers ARE stored in his microphone, and he needs to be physically touching it to use them. He can use both Power Sets at the same time; however, the two sets of Stitches haven't yet appeared together; it’s always one or the other.

You can also read the very bottom for my list of assumptions.

Okay, getting into it.

“Red” Vs “Green”

Here is what I'm referring to with each:

Alastor's “Red Powers” are what he was given by whomever he made this “Deal” with, referenced in episode 8.

Maybe Alastor traded his soul for his Red Powers (accidental or not) judging from the show’s use of Black Eyes meaning such? Pieced together with his lyrics of “The constraints of my deal surely have a backdoor,” in the finale.

Alastor's “Green Powers” are abilities he is actively making for himself, they appear much stronger, and he seems to use them more than his “Red” abilities.

Maybe creating and bettering his Green Powers is an act of escape from his deal? The quote: “I'm hungry for freedom like never before,” Is interesting since this man, and the entire show, never mentioned anything about freedom.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Abilities from each, or the list I have picked up on:

Belonging to Red:

Red-Radio-Dials-on-Black Eyes

Red Stitches & the forehead “X”

His Shadow

His ability to teleport (using the Shadow)

Jumbo Al’s form

His microphone (eye glows Red.)

Belonging to Green:

Eyes are normal Red-on-Red or Green-Radio-Dials-on-Red.

Green Stitches

His ability to own souls (husk’s chain is Green)

His ability to do deals (Charlie's deal)

His ability to summon & make things disappear.

His tentacles/tendrils.

The shield over the hotel in the battle

These are simply sorted judging on the two colours his powers and Stitches seem to come in, or depending on the colour of his eyes at the time.

He can use both sets of powers together. That is proven throughout the show. There are also times when he is using just one instead of the other (Will explain further in “Proof of Two Power Sets: Using Both Together Vs Just One.”)

His Shadow is an intriguing anomaly, while I am putting it in his “Red Powers,” I don't think it's an actual power of his, more of a creature that's tied to him. Alastor can use his “Green Powers” to disperse it, signifying just how powerful these Green Abilities are.

Maybe his Shadow isn’t a power ability as such, but a creature tied to him because of how he got his Red Powers in a “Deal?”

I'm on the fence with these guys. Their eyes are Red, but they also have a Green glow in episode 8.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Proof of Two Power Sets: The Stitches

Red: The Red Stitches are very minimal, being just at the corner of his mouth and an “X” on his forehead. While the Red forehead “X” is a constant sight, the corner Stitches are only seen in the pilot and at the end of Stayed Gone.

Green: Interestingly, there are more. Thus, under this assumption that anything Green is what Alastor is making for himself, in classic Al style, he's been given something he doesn't like (his soul being owned), therefore, is pridefully, egotistically working with what he has. Overriding and improving to benefit his goals instead, to the point where he won't need the others anymore. Very “Al,” if you ask me.

So far, the Green Stitches have only been seen once, in the deal made with Charlie.

Maybe the Green Stitches only appear in deals?

There was no Red “X” on his forehead when the Green Stitches appeared. Likewise, the Green Stitches have also never been shown when the Red is present.

Maybe the two colours of Stitches cannot coincide, it’s always one or the other?

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Proof of Two Power Sets: His Eyes.

His Red Powers always trigger his Black Eyes with Red-Radio-Dials. Always.

If there's a scene with his eyes going Black, he is using his Red Powers.

His Green Powers do not change the colour of his eyes. (The only exception so far is his deal with Charlie. Will explain further in This Section.)

Proof?

At the start of his fight with Adam, his eyes remained normal (Red-on-Red) whilst he fought back with just his tentacle/tendrils. However, once Alastor jumped and taunts: “You’re sloppy,” was when his Black Eyes appeared. Which, he, in fact, turns into Jumbo Al at that moment, only furthering my theory of two power sets at play — Where only one changes his eye colour, and “Jumbo” Al is part of it (Will explain further in “Proof of Two Power Sets: Ability colours.”)

His eyes are also seen not changing when making that deal with Vaggie, summoning or dispersing things, and setting up the shield in the final battle. Never did his eyes change.

If his eyes ever change to Black whilst using his tentacles/tendrils, that is because Jumbo Al is involved.

Expanding further on the shield: Yes, it does have a strong Red appearance, but it also has a Green glow. Furthermore, it sprouted axe-wielding tentacles/tendrils — all parts of this “Green Power” and not “Red’s” (Will explain further in “Proof of Two Power Sets: Ability colours.”)

The only exception to this “Eyes don’t change in Green Powers” rule, is in his deal with Charlie:

Look at his eyes. Ignore the blinding new Stitches, or the glowing Green Powers behind him — or the severe lack of Red anywhere — his eyes are entirely different. They are not Black-With-Red-Radio-Dials like expected and shown throughout the show, they are Red-With-Green-Radio-Dials. Never seen before, or shown again (for now). If he had just one power set, why weren’t his eyes the usual Red-on-Black?

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Proof of Two Power Sets: Ability Colours.

Red:

Following the assumption that whenever Alastor's eyes turn Black, he's using his Red Powers; that's all the times “Jumbo” Alastor appears, or when he’s either threatening, fighting, or when he's using his glitching filter.

Green:

The reason I'm calling them his “Green” Powers is because of their literal colour. His Green Abilities seem more dangerous and severe. Starting with the mass of Stitches he has, to how Green corrupted the hotel in Charlie's deal, but also the weaponised tentacles/tendrils he uses in fights.

Addressing the Neon:

I’ll admit, I am a bit on the fence with the neon colour changing that he does. Definitely not ignoring it, especially since it has made two appearances: In Hell’s Greatest Dad and the Pilot. I’m slightly certain it’s a part of his Green Powers, due to two factors: 1. The literal colour and 2:

Now where have I seen eyes so similar to that?

Oh yeah, his deal with Charlie, (As mentioned in “Proof of Two Power Sets: His Eyes.”)

The reason I am sceptical over it is that his normal eyes (red-on-red but without radio dials) are also the same colours in this neon, so it’s challenging to tell what true colours they are under the filter.

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Proof of Two Power Sets: Using Both Together Vs Just One.

I’ll make this short, Alastor can use both power sets at the same time. In fact, throughout the show, they're used in this way — together — almost more often than just one at a time. (Though, he does use “Green Powers” more by themselves than “Red’s.”)

Using Them At The Same Time; Most Notable Example:

Jumbo Al with tentacles/tendrils.

Jumbo Al with the tentacles/tendrils is the most noticeable example of using both at the same time. Considering that his Red Powers are whenever his eyes change to Black, and his Green ones are any ability coloured Green, Jumbo Al always causes the Black Eyes and typically has the Green tendrils. Which, to me, indicates confident proof that Alastor can use both power sets at the same time.

One At A Time; Most Noticeable Example Of Each:

As said in “Proof of Two Power Sets: His eyes,” it was interesting how Al was using an ability (his tendrils/tentacles) without his eyes going Black, thus hinting to a duo power set. But there's more, there are in fact two notable moments in the show where Al is only using one power set at a time.

Red: The end of Stayed Gone.

I'm fully convinced this is him using only his Red Powers. The threatening Jumbo Al, the Blackened-out eyes, the Red Stitches, and the lack of colour Green Anywhere, all hit it home for me. Additionally, there's another crucial factor I've picked up that has me believing this is just his Red Powers (Will explain further in “And Finally… That Damn Microphone Scene.”) Something my days worth of googling haven’t found anyone connecting the dots yet.

Green: His deal with Charlie.

I always thought there was something missing on Al in this scene. Turns out I was looking for a Red “X” on his forehead. In fact, there is a severe lack of Red anywhere in the room, and the mentioned-before change of eyes. This is wholly different from normal Al using an ability where his eyes are supposed to change to Black.

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The Importance of The Microphone

Broadcasting.

This is very difficult to explain in the “Red” Vs “Green” theory because it’s complicated to interpret the truth from what we’ve seen in the show so far.

Alastor uses his microphone — a device for announcing — to broadcast his victim’s screams and himself. But interestingly, in accordance with the colour schemes, it’s shown to perhaps use both powers to do so. So, here is what I’ve narrowed it down to.

Red: Only broadcasts himself, as shown in Stayed Gone.

Green: Broadcasts the screams of his victims.

Maybe Alastor’s microphone was given to him in his deal for his Red Powers rather than him making it himself, for him to broadcast his own voice and make a platform for himself, as shown in Stayed Gone?

Maybe Alastor, using the mic he was given, then worked with his green powers to record, store and broadcast the screams of his victims, as per the colour schemes in Mimzy’s story?

The reason I’m very uncertain if this is true is simple: Angel, Charlie & Vaggie’s pilot outfits all made an appearance when the show touched on their past. However, Alastor’s backstory by Mimzy does not have him in his pilot clothes, representing, to me, symbolic hints that Mimzy is an unreliable narrator; therefore to be cautious when believing her tale.

Maybe we cannot trust Mimzy’s take on how Alastor grew to power due to evidence of her being an unreliable narrator? Thusly, we cannot completely believe how Alastor came to power or what coloured power he uses to broadcast.

His Powers.

Alastor’s powers are stored in his microphone and therefore, he needs to be touching it for them to work. That is a known fact. He refuses to let go of it, regardless of what form he is using or what he is doing.

I cannot stress enough that Alastor needs to be physically touching his undamaged mic for his powers to work.

Most notably, Jumbo Al never let go of his tiny microphone while slaughtering the loan sharks for Mimzy in episode 5. That detail encompasses the idea that his powers are inside his mic, as though he can’t let go of it, or his powers will disappear.

Well, his Green Powers, at least…

I repeat, only his Green Powers are inside that microphone.

The reason he cannot let go is that his Green Abilities — the ones he actually uses to kill — will disappear. There is no scene in the show where Alastor let go of his mic when using his Green Powers. Likewise, there is a multitude of proof that I have found to show Alastor has other powers — his “red” ones — outside his microphone and therefore, the mic’s condition doesn’t matter (Will explain further in “The Microphone Is Broken, Now What?”) Including something that debunked the idea of Alastor needing contact with his mic for all his powers early in the show. (Will explain further in “And Finally… That Damn Microphone Scene.”)

Maybe only his Green Powers are inside his microphone, they require him to have physical contact with the mic to use?

Maybe his Red Powers do not require physical contact with the mic, since they are not in it?

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The Microphone Is Broken, Now What?

Alastor has no Green Abilities, but his Red Powers are still intact. What happened before and after he got hit-down proves this.

To understand it fully, here's the chronological order of the fight’s final moments:

This is the frame of Alastor before Adam slashed him and his microphone. There are no Black Eyes, only tentacles/tendrils, which, if you've been following, means he was only using his Green Powers. And after the microphone broke, there was nothing.

Why am I pointing this out? Well, I thought it was an interesting choice, and I'm heavily wondering about its intention. Alastor’s eyes were, in fact, Black leading up to that pose, but then they suddenly weren’t. This was no animation accident, in studios and shows like this, every little detail is planned out with a reason, so I refuse to believe it was unintentional.

Instead, I speculate: What if there had been a Jumbo Al with Black Eyes in that frame? To me, there are two ways of it going: he loses his tentacles/tendrils, but his eyes are still Black, or he loses his Black Eyes with them. The latter would have completely destroyed my running theory that his Red Powers weren't in his microphone, and that would’ve sent me into a spiral. Likewise, I wonder if the first option of keeping them would have been too obvious, and so, would that be why the animators didn't?

That aside, the microphone is broken, all his Green Powers are gone, but his Red ones — that aren't in the microphone, and therefore, unaffected — are still there.

Proof:

This is why I believe his Shadow is part of his Red Powers (that, and it’s glowing Red eyes in some scenes.) If his Shadow is connected to what I've been calling his “Green Powers,” it should not still be there. And yet, it is. To me, this is just evidence of two powers, and while the Greens are out of commission, his Red Powers are living on.

But there’s more proof without the Shadow.

What was the first thing Alastor did after being hit down?

He flashed us the Black Eyes.

This, to me, is the show screaming the hint to us, that certain powers — his Red abilities — are still very much active. Because of this, I don't believe his Red Powers have a place they're stored, they're just a part of him, the same as how other overlords’ powers are just a part of them.

Maybe his Red Powers have no place they're stored, but are a part of Alastor?

Maybe his Red Powers are still there; however, they could be weakened along with the rest of him?

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

And Finally… That Damn Microphone Scene.

Before I go into the scene that kept me up a few hours of a night, I want to reiterate what I’ve already went over:

Alastor has two power sets.

He can use both powers at the same time.

His Green Abilities are stored in his microphone.

Alastor needs to have physical contact with his mic in order for his Green Powers to work.

The microphone destroyed means he does not have his Green Powers post battle.

His Red Abilities are not stored in his microphone

Since his Red abilities are not in the mic, they are not affected by the mic’s damage, more likely affected by his physical damage, instead.

And to bring in the new concept: Since his Red abilities are not in the mic, he never needed to physically touch the microphone to use them.

Now… there was no way of knowing that what I'm calling his “Red Powers” could be used without his microphone in hand, before it broke… right?

Except, there freaking was!!!

Picture this, a few hours after my discovery of a possible duo power set, I’m in bed about to close my eyes for the night, when my brain decided to remind me of an iconic scene. Needless to say, I remained awake for a few more hours.

I’ve been referencing a detail that no one has (to what my hours and days of googling have led me to) mentioned or brought up before. Something crucial I only picked up later on, something to help prove two power sets for good, and, well, it’s all in the microphone.

“Alastor needs his mic for his powers,” was a major detail the fandom knew. He refuses to let go of it, regardless of what he’s doing or his form.

I’m about to prove this is only partially true. His Green Powers, yes, they require physical contact with the mic to use, but the Red ones don't. For, there is a debunker scene from the very start, first quarter of the show, showing Al not touching his microphone and using only his Red Powers.

Stayed gone.

(I asked you to keep it in your memory, I wonder if you managed to.) At the very end, when Alastor is saying: “I'm Gonna make you wish that I'd stayed gone. Tune on in…” etc. Especially “Tune on in” and onwards, look what he does.

He puts the microphone down.

“Alastor needs his mic for his powers.”

And yet, he put it down and proceeded to become Jumbo Al in this scene. The scene that I labelled back in “Proof of Two Power Sets: Using Both Together Vs Just One” as the most notable place where he only used his Red Powers. His Red Powers that I'm fully suggesting aren't stored in his microphone; therefore, he doesn't need to touch it.

As I said before, this is a proper studio, everything is deliberately animated the way it is for a reason. And that scene had such emphasis on his hand letting go, they were just shoving it in our face. They could've just had him place it down on the side in the previous frame. But they didn't, and now I'm heavily convinced it was a massive hint from the start.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The End/Season 2; What's Next?

Therefore, I'm saying his Green Powers are broken (perhaps not gone completely) but Al's Red Powers are still at the very least active.

Alastor is now stuck with the powers he was given in the first place; all the ones he made by himself are gone. All his work may be erased and his stuck back with the ones he didn't like in the first place.

Considering that Season 2 will be all about backstories. I wonder if this theory is taking the right path towards it.

Maybe Season 2 will dive into how Alastor got his duo power sets, or just one, since it will be about backstories?

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

PS. Do not ask me why this lighting is here. I do not know.

Maybe the Green lighting in the Radio tower is hinting for a Green Power comeback?

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

My List of Assumptions: “Maybe’s”

Maybe his Shadow isn’t a power ability as such, but a creature tied to him because of how he got his Red Powers in a “Deal?”

Maybe the Green Stitches only appear in deals?

Maybe the two colours of Stitches cannot coincide, it’s always one or the other?

Maybe Alastor, using the mic he was given, then worked with his green powers to record, store and broadcast the screams of his victims, as per the colour schemes in Mimzy’s story?

Maybe only his Green Powers are inside his microphone, they need him to have physical contact with the mic to use?

Maybe his Red Powers do not require physical contact with the mic, since they are not in it.

Maybe his Red Powers have no place they're stored, but are a part of Alastor?

Maybe his Red Powers are still there; however, they could be weakened along with the rest of him?

Maybe season 2 will dive into how Alastor got his duo power sets, or just one, since it will be about backstories?

Maybe the Green lighting in the Radio tower is hinting for a Green Power comeback?

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Once again, if you have seen someone else talking about something in here, please let me know! So I can reference them too!! I spent days googling, hoping someone else picked up this stuff, but it all slipped under my radar.

Disclaimer: And again, I have stayed far away from leaks and spoilers of this show and want to keep it that way. So please, do not mention the leaks even if it’s relevant. Let me discover the knowledge of this being right or wrong on my own when I watch season 2.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #lil me post

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