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roanofarcc · 7 months ago

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PROJECT SUNSHINE CHAPTER FORTY THREE → CUT THE HEADLIGHTS

summary: steve harrington x oc | on ao3

when another product of Hawkins National Laboratory escaped a long-survived nightmare alongside her sister, she crashed into one unsuspecting teenage boy and dragged him deeper into the dark mysteries that made up their hometown.

word count. 3.3k || masterlist

warnings: cannon typical violence, child abuse, horror, gore, and depictions of mental illness. parts of this story were written pre-season 4 release. cannon divergence.

a/n: steve & sunshine my beloveds <3

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Lovers Lake was quiet just after sunset. The sky was painted a dark, stunning shade of blue that almost looked purple, and thousands of stars twinkled overhead. The little dots of white light were still one of the most incredible things that Sunshine had ever laid her eyes on, and no matter how many nights she spent staring at them, she was captivated. The stars looked brighter in the summertime, and close enough that she could reach out and grasp them in her fingers to make a wish. If she could, she’d wish for the sea of worries to cease their raging inside her head.

On the hood of Steve’s car, Sunshine lay beside him. They were close enough that one small movement could cause their arms to brush, and the mere thought of that happening was enough to bring heat to her cheeks.

Steve had become one of the first people she turned to when she didn’t understand something. He had never made her feel stupid for her lack of knowledge when it came to certain things. Instead, he answered her questions without a second thought. But she couldn’t exactly ask Steve about her confusing flush of feelings towards him.

And those weren’t the only messy and confusing worries that occupied her mind. She was still drowning in guilt for lying to her parents about what happened during the ten years she was missing. It wasn’t the kind of guilt that she could simply fix, either. It was the kind she’d have to live with, and that made her feel even worse. Her parents were two people who truly loved her, not the kind of ‘love’ Dr. Brenner had tricked all of the lab children into believing in. Yet, she couldn’t tell them all of the fears and truths that haunted her. She couldn’t confide in them how children were supposed to be with their parents.

If she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t sure that she would tell them the truth, even if she could without consequences. For two and a half years she had spent trying to regain a semblance of normalcy in her life with her parents. Sunshine was terrified that, if they knew the whole truth, they wouldn’t be able to look at her the same. And how could she blame them for that? They thought she was dead, and when they discovered she wasn’t if they knew about the strange glow of her hands or knew the things she had done inside the Lab, there was no way they’d accept her like they had. That weighed heavily on her, the thought of her parents not being able to love her fully for the person she had been turned into. So, she had to lie.

“Everything all right, Sunshine?” Steve’s voice broke through her thoughts, bringing her back to where she was, with him in the warm summer air.

She gazed up at the star-filled sky and tried to refocus. “Yeah. I’m just…thinking.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him turn his head just slightly and look at her. After a moment, she mirrored his actions. In between the darkness that engulfed them on the gravel shore, she was just close enough to make out the little lines and details of his face. The softness his warm eyes always carried and how they contrasted against the sharpness of his pointed nose and jaw.

The corners of his lips tugged upwards, and his nose scrunched. “Are you thinking about how I didn’t plan for all of the mosquitos that are out tonight?”

A breathy laugh fell from Sunshine’s lips. “No,” she shook her head. “But now that you mention it…” She wore a pair of shorts and a tank top in an attempt to beat the heat, but they did nothing to stop the pesty bugs from attacking her limbs.

The night was so warm, even after the sun had set. It was the kind of heat that made your skin feel sticky and caused sweat to bead by just stepping out the door. The temperature mixed with the still-moving body of water a couple of hundred feet away and attracted all sorts of bugs. Mosquitoes left behind little itchy bites, lightning bugs danced among the stars, and crickets chirped all around them.

“What’s on your mind?” Steve asked, peering at her with curious eyes.

She sighed softly, unsure if she was even able to voice her thoughts aloud. Of course, she couldn’t bring up the whole, ‘I don’t know exactly what a crush is, but everyone seems to think I have one on you’ debacle, so she tried to tackle another issue.

“Does it ever bother you, having to lie all of the time about what we've been through?”

Steve blinked in surprise. “I guess a little,” he said. “It would be nice to not have to come up with or stick to lies all of the time. But, at the same time, I don’t really expect anyone to understand, you know? I hardly believe half of the shit we’ve been through. I can’t imagine anyone who hasn’t been through it believing us.”

He had a point, Sunshine thought. Even if they could tell the truth, they couldn’t describe that kind of horror to someone who hadn’t witnessed it.

“Yeah,” Sunshine sighed.

“It bothers you, though, doesn’t it? Having to lie to your parents?”

A tightness grew in her throat and the urge to cry hit her harder than she was expecting. She was flushed with emotions all of the time, big and difficult to understand emotions. Squeezing her eyes shut, she muttered a quiet, “Yes.”

She felt Steve’s hand brush over hers before he carefully intertwined their fingers. That had become something of a habit between them. The feeling of someone’s hand in hers almost always worked to ease Sunshine’s nerves. That was how she had once been comforted by Ivy, and over time, Steve had picked up on it. The thing was, when his hand found hers, it both eased her worries and caused a flutter inside her chest. He made her feel both calm and off balance at the same time.

“They tried to talk to me the other night,” she confessed, in hopes that talking about the conversation she had with her parents would lift some of the weight on her chest. “They said it was time I told them what happened to me. They said it would help them understand how to help me. And I tried to tell them that I was fine, but they didn’t believe me. But it’s true. I am better. I…I think that they'll believe, eventually, I’ll turn back into this normal kid that I was when I was little. I don’t know how to tell them that I don’t even remember being that kid.”

Whoever Danielle Torres was before she was six, Sunshine had little to no memory of her. But it felt as if her parents were holding out for the little girl they lost in the woods, and Sunshine didn’t know how to tell them she was long gone.

“If it makes you feel any better, from what I remember, you weren’t exactly a ‘normal’ six-year-old either,” he joked, trying to lighten the heavy mood that hung over them. Sunshine wanted to laugh and offer him a smile, but the weight of her feelings held her down. A sadness swelled inside her chest, aching painfully and she couldn’t get herself to respond to him at all. He tensed beside her. “Shit. I’m sorry. That was a shitty joke. I didn’t-”

“No, it’s okay,” she said as she squeezed his hand. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel…I feel too much, I think.”

Steve gazed at her with his brows lightly furrowed. She was scared if she looked anywhere but at the stars she’d start to cry. “What’d you mean?” he asked.

All of her emotions stirred under her skin; she wanted them out, to be soothed, or something. Maybe her parents had a point. Maybe if she just talked about them, she’d feel better, but Sunshine hadn’t spoken much about her time inside the Lab to anyone, including her siblings who experienced it alongside her. She kept everything shoved away in the back of her mind or on the pages of her journal. Writing them down helped, somewhat, but she couldn’t hold it all in anymore; it was killing her. So, she sucked in a deep breath and tried to explain her messy fears to the boy who held her hand.

“Back inside the Lab, I don’t really remember feeling much of anything. I was scared, mostly. But when I would feel something else, I was always worried that it was wrong or that I’d get in trouble for it.” Tears welled up in her eyes, forcing her to close them once more and try to get them to stop. Her vision was filled with The Room and the dark, horrible loneliness that accompanied it. Even if she stepped out of line slightly, she was grabbed by harsh fingers and dragged down the hall kicking and screaming.

“Eventually, it was just El and I left, and it wasn’t even that didn’t want to feel anything. I…I couldn’t. I couldn’t feel anything besides fear, and it was awful. But then we escaped, and I got all of this and it’s like all of those feelings are back, and I don’t know how to handle them.”

Guilt, happiness, longing, excitement, and on and on. All of the emotions festered inside of her in a knot she couldn’t untangle. She went from being a young girl with her nose pressed against the barred windows of her bedroom, feeling nothing but fear of every single corner of the Lab mixed with an awful emptiness in her chest, to a girl who was bursting at the seams with every emotion a person could have. It was dizzying, confusing, and a little sickening, but she never wanted it to end. Sunshine never, ever, wanted to experience such numbness as she had inside the Lab. She just wished there was some sort of manual or instructions for sorting out and navigating emotions you were supposed to have figured out by your teenage years.

“I’m so sorry, Sunshine,” Steve whispered. Sunshine opened her eyes to meet his and noticed the glint of guilt he wore. She felt a pang deep in her chest; she hated the sight of his downturned lips and pity creased between his brows.

“It’s not your fault,” she reminded him. “I just want to feel normal, but I can’t figure it out. I don’t know if I can be normal, actually. I don’t think I can be the kid my parents lost. I don’t even know who Danielle is. All I know is Sunshine and Seven. How can I be the kid that they want if I can’t remember her or remember what it felt like to be her?”

The photos her parents had of Sunshine from her birth to age six were scattered around their house, and every time she stared at them a little too long, she had no idea who the child was staring back at her.

Steve shifted slightly and sat upright on the hood of his car, still holding onto her hand. Sunshine copied his actions and sat facing him. “All your parents want is you,” he said. “You are their kid, Sunshine. Nothing else matters. Danielle or Sunshine, they’re both you, and they always have been. Even when you were in that place, you were still Danielle, no matter what they told you.”

She wanted to believe him and the look of sincerity on his face, but it was so hard to not look at her life as a series of befores and afters. She glanced down at her hand that wasn’t being held and turned her wrist just so as to show the tattoo forever stained on her skin. “My parents didn’t sign up to raise a science experiment. And if they knew that’s exactly what they were doing, I don’t know if they’d be able to look at me the way they do now.” The truth was bitter on her tongue. The urge to scratch the tattoo right out of her wrist was strong, but her other hand was occupied, and she didn’t want to let go of Steve. And even if she could erase the tattoo, it wouldn’t get rid of her abilities.

“Hey,” Steve said, his voice sharp but not startling. “You’re not a science experiment. You’re not. And if your parents knew the truth, that wouldn’t make them love you any less. They waited for you for ten years. There’s no way they’d throw all of that away because of something that happened to you that you couldn’t control.”

There was a love/hate relationship Sunshine had with her abilities. When she used them to protect her friends, they were a blessing. But no good deed she had done with them could outweigh the terrible things she had used them for inside the Lab.

“Just because I couldn’t control it doesn’t mean the things that happened weren’t my fault. It’s more than just having these abilities, it’s what I had to do with them. If they knew…if anyone knew no one would-”

“Sunshine, look at me,” Steve said, stopping her. She couldn’t force her eyes off of her tattoo and she wasn’t sure she could stomach meeting his eyes. There were people she hurt, innocent people that didn’t deserve it. She didn’t believe that was forgivable, regardless of if she had no other choice or say. Every child of Hawkins Lab had their share of secrets and shame they kept locked up in their mind that haunted them.

A warm hand lightly grazed her cheek, forcing her attention onto Steve. Her breath hitched in her throat as he brushed his thumb across her freckled skin and looked at her with a certain kind of carefulness.

“Nothing that happened to you, or your brother and sisters, was your fault. Nothing that happened inside that place was your fault. And there’s nothing that you could say or do that would make your parents or your friends change their minds about you, okay?”

She really wanted to believe that was true. “You can’t say that if you don’t know the truth,” she said.

A small smile formed on his face. They were so close, their noses almost touching. “I don’t need to know everything to know who you are.”

“And who am I?” Because not even she knew, fully.

“A badass,” he answered, almost reflexively. “The coolest person I know. And you care about people, like, genuinely care about them even if you hardly know them, which I admire you for. I think that you’re insanely brave and smart and…and beautiful.”

Sunshine’s face heated up at the rush of compliments, and her heart began to race. Steve’s hand was still in hers and the other on her cheek. For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw his eyes flicker down to her lips and she felt herself lean closer just slightly before a harsh ray of light cut through the darkness of Lover’s Lake, followed by the crunch of boots on gravel.

“Hey!” a voice shouted, startling the teens apart and nearly sending them toppling off the hood of the car. “The lake’s closed for the- oh. Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!”

Clutching her chest, Sunshine strained her eyes in the glow of the flashlight to see who was holding it. A familiar face came into view. “Hopper?”

He wore a disgruntled look on his face as he clicked off his light and placed his hands on his hips in a similar fashion to how he did when El asked if Mike could come over. “What the hell are you two-” He cut himself off with a quick shake of his head. “Actually, no. Nope. I don’t want to know.” He pointed a finger at Steve. “Do you want a ticket, boy?”

“Come on, Hopper,” Sunshine jumped in. “We were just talking…” Her voice trailed off and Hopper rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “I think you two are forgetting that I grew up around her too. Why do you think we do rounds out here? To make sure you kids don’t get any bright ideas after sunset.”

Sunshine resisted the urge to argue, knowing it wouldn’t help their case. She sighed and glanced back at Steve. “Okay. We’re leaving.”

Sometimes it felt as if Sunshine was the fourth Hopper child. Where her actual dad couldn’t and wouldn’t understand, Hopper picked up the slack. He treated her the same as El and the twins, which sometimes was to her dismay.

She and Steve moved toward the car, but Hopper stopped them. “Hold it, Harrington. I want a word with you.”

…

Steve really, really did not want a ticket. His parents had cut him off and the only money he had was the measly paycheck he earned from Scoops. He also felt like Hopper should cut him some slack; there were a lot worse things he had done than be caught with Sunshine at Lover’s Lake after sunset. Still, despite knowing Hopper better than he had a couple of years ago, the man was intimating and made Steve nervous as he was led just out of earshot of Sunshine and toward the lapping water of the lake.

“I promise, we weren’t doing any-” Steve started, but Hopper cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“Just be quiet and listen to me.” Steve pressed his lips into a thin line and braced himself for whatever kind of scolding the chief was about to unleash on him. “I know how this goes, all right? I was your age once, sneaking around with girls all summer to places like this. I get it, kid, I do. And I know I’m not that girl’s father, but she is a part of my family. I need to know, that you understand, that she is not like those other girls you go to school with, okay?”

Steve was confused. He, out of everyone, knew that Sunshine wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met before. Even in the brief memories he had of her when they were little, she’d never been like anyone he had known before.

“I know that,” he replied.

Hopper nodded, his face hardest. “I hope you do because if anything, and I mean anything, happens to her you won’t have to answer to just me.” He paused and let out a tired sigh of what Steve imagined was the sound of a stressed-out dad who cared for his kids and those who weren’t his kids with everything he had. “Just don’t hurt her, got it? She’s been through enough as it is and a broken heart on top of that won’t be pretty for anyone.”

Steve was silent for a moment, his eyes drifting toward Sunshine’s silhouette leaning against the passenger door of his car. He felt heavy and guilty. “Yeah,” he finally said, lost in thought. “I got it.”

With a sigh, Hopper’s expression softened just slightly, and he placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder, bringing his attention back to the man in front of him. “You’re both good kids. I just want both of you to be careful, that’s all.” He gave Steve’s shoulder a squeeze before he let go and cleared his throat, falling back into his ‘chief’ persona. “Now, get out of here and go home. No detours.”

“Yes, sir.” Steve offered him a tight-lipped smile before he started back toward his car with a look that, unknown to him, Hopper knew all too well.

Tagged. @sattlersquarry , @leptitlu , @drunkengodsofslaughter

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things oc #jim hopper #stranger things 3 #project sunshine

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mariana-oconnor · 2 years ago

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The Naval Treaty pt 4

The Moment of Truth

Will my immediate and instinctive dislike of Joseph Harrison be proved right, or will I be forced to admit that this crime is not his? (I make no promises regarding other crimes, however.)

What the object of my friend's manoeuvres was I could not conceive, unless it were to keep the lady away from Phelps...

Here we see Watson's focus on interpersonal matters, rather than on logistics. Holmes could have found a far easier and more sensible way to keep them apart if he wanted to.

...he calmly announced that he had no intention of leaving Woking.

Well no. You can't catch... the person... red-handed if you leave for London, now can you?

Gotta let them think you're in London and do the sneaky sneak.

I may be a little sleep deprived today, so this could be a little more unhinged than usual.

"Watson, when you reach London you would oblige me by driving at once to Baker Street with our friend here, and remaining with him until I see you again."

What, no? You're not letting Watson come? Bad Holmes. FIRST this means we don't get a first-hand account of you catching Jos- the unknown ne'erdowell in the act. SECOND Percy doesn't deserve to be left alone with the guy who hit him with sticks for years. He's been an idiot and failed utterly at both of the 2 jobs he had (copy treaty, don't let treaty be stolen) but he doesn't deserve that. Not to mention that Watson's going to be all sulky.

"It is fortunate that you are old school-fellows, as you must have much to talk over."

Oh yeah, the good old days.

“But how about our investigation in London?” asked Phelps, ruefully. “We can do that to-morrow. I think that just at present I can be of more immediate use here.”

Has no one else realised what the plan is? Percy was pretty good at this last time, I swear.

I'm being unreasonable. I have knowledge of the genre and the tropes that the characters do not have, as well as an awareness that I am reading a story and therefore only things that are relevant to the story are emphasised. Please accept my humblest apologies, Watson and Mr Phelps. There's no way Percy could ever suspect that the document he so carelessly allowed to be taken is in the same room where he was lying for almost ten weeks. Although he must suspect that the 'attempt on his life' was connected in some way.

Still... we must make allowances for the limitations of their vision, trapped as they are within the ink of the tale.

“I hardly expect to go back to Briarbrae,” answered Holmes.

Now that's got to be a lie. How else are you going to catch him... ahem, them in the act?

“You are sure it was not a house-breaker's jimmy?” “Oh, no, it was a knife. I saw the flash of the blade quite distinctly.”

You didn't seem that certain earlier, Percy. And we all know that eye witnesses are notoriously unreliable about things like that. Although I will admit that I would go the other way and start doubting myself. Percy, apparently, has decided to double down.

I don't think that Joseph - or whoever the villain is - wants Percy dead per se, so why a knife. To pry up a floorboard?

"It is absurd to suppose that you have two enemies, one of whom robs you, while the other threatens your life.”

I mean, you could be a little nicer to the guy who has barely recovered from a nine-week-long illness, Watson. Your bedside manner leaves a little to be desired. But you are, in fact, getting to the crux of the matter. The very sharp edge of Occam's Razor, if you will.

“But Holmes said that he was not going to Briarbrae.” “I have known him for some time,” said I, “but I never knew him do anything yet without a very good reason.”

This seems patently false. The man does things without reason all the time. Not on cases, maybe. But he sticks his legs on top of the fireplace and goes off on tangents about the beauty of a rose being evidence of the existence of an allpowerful deity. I don't know if it's in the short stories or the longer ones, but he shoots the queen's initials into the wall of his lodgings.

Although I like how Percy says 'But he said he wasn't going' and Watson doesn't even really respond to that one way or the other. The 'I have known him for some time' could indicate that Watson can tell when he's lying.

But it was a weary day for me. Phelps was still weak after his long illness, and his misfortune made him querulous and nervous. In vain I endeavored to interest him in Afghanistan, in India, in social questions, in anything which might take his mind out of the groove. He would always come back to his lost treaty, wondering, guessing, speculating, as to what Holmes was doing, what steps Lord Holdhurst was taking, what news we should have in the morning. As the evening wore on his excitement became quite painful.

Watson is the worst at this. Stop trying to talk to him about things you're interested in and ask him what he's interested in. If in doubt, ask about his fiancee. That should get him talking, at least.

Also, Watson seems so put out that Percy is worried about the thing that his entire life hinges on. How very Victorian of him. Buck up, Percy. Stiff upper lip.

The next conversation is just so full of Watson being deliberately vague so as not to get Percy's hopes up and Percy utterly refusing to accept Watson talking around the subject. Honestly, at this point, they're both equally aggravating and amusing

It boils down to:

"Do you think Holmes has an idea? Argh, he doesn't, does he?"

"I've seen him solve other cases."

"But what about this one?"

Repeatedly, round and round in circles.

“On the contrary, I have noticed that when he is off the trail he generally says so. It is when he is on a scent and is not quite absolutely sure yet that it is the right one that he is most taciturn."

Ah, finally, an actual answer that's a bit helpful and doesn't promise anything. Was that so hard? The poor man just wanted some reassurance and empathy. I can absolutely understand why the pair of you did not get along at school, you're clearly coming at the word from completely different ends of the Victorian hero spectrum. Well, honestly, Percy from a literary standpoint is firmly in the position of heroine, what with the sudden onset of fever from stress and being shut away in a room with people breaking in in the middle of the night. He's practically the heroine of a gothic novel, and Watson doesn't know how to deal with a man who embodies so many of the more stereotypical 'feminine' tropes. If it had been a woman, he would have thought to appeal to her emotions, I bet, but because Percy is a man, Watson's trying his best blokey comforting methods and failing miserably. He's stuck in the trap of gender roles and he doesn't even see it.

There's honestly probably quite a decent essay there about this story and reframing literary gender roles. I expect someone has already written it.

Sorry, my English Literature degree is getting in the way of a good time. Weird how that happens now, but very rarely happened while I was getting it. 😅

TO THE MEMES!

“He'll be here when he promised,” said I, “and not an instant sooner or later.”

Oh, oh, oh! It is a gift, a gift to the foes of Mordor!

Standing in the window we saw that his left hand was swathed in a bandage and that his face was very grim and pale. He entered the house, but it was some little time before he came upstairs.

What the what now? I was going to say earlier 'don't leave Watson behind; what if Joseph gets violent?' but then I remembered Holmes is more than capable of taking care of himself, so I didn't. But apparently I was right to have that thought.

Joseph Harrison has so much to answer for.

Look... if it's not him, I'll apologise. But... but... it's him alright.

“After all,” said I, “the clue of the matter lies probably here in town.”

No. Because it's Joseph. Motherfucking. Harrison.

I am preparing my I told you sos.

Also, the man is injured. Why would he be injured if he hadn't come across someone in the process of ne'erdowelling? I suppose he could have trapped his hand in a door or something. But we're back to Occam's Razor again. Evidence points to him discovering something at least.

“Tut, it is only a scratch through my own clumsiness,” he answered...

Or he trapped it in a door, I guess. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“This case of yours, Mr. Phelps, is certainly one of the darkest which I have ever investigated.”

Darker than The Greek Interpreter? Because that shit was dark.

“Won't you tell us what has happened?” “After breakfast, my dear Watson."

Percy over here just dying of stress. Don't mind him. Lolol.

“Mrs. Hudson has risen to the occasion,” said Holmes, uncovering a dish of curried chicken. “Her cuisine is a little limited, but she has as good an idea of breakfast as a Scotch-woman."

Well, that's not an English fry-up.

Curry for breakfast in England? And it's not kedgeree? I genuinely can't tell if the comment about the 'scotch-woman' is intended to be a compliment or an insult. But I think kedgeree is more common in Scotland, so maybe that's the connection? I've never had it, only heard of it, and Wikipedia tells me the first known British recipe for it was in a Scottish cookbook. So I guess this is a reference to kedgeree? But chicken?

I know curry is eaten for breakfast in different parts of the world, but it's really not a very common thing over here. I suppose there was a lot of Indian influence on fashions in the Victorian Era, what with colonialism being at its peak and all, so maybe they were just trying it out and it eventually settled down to kedgeree?

"What have you here, Watson?” “Ham and eggs,” I answered.

OK, Watson's going more traditional. That makes sense. Although when did the traditional English Breakfast even originate?

The English Breakfast society tells me 14th-15th century, and I guess they should know.

“Well, then,” said Holmes, with a mischievous twinkle, “I suppose that you have no objection to helping me?”

Oh no. Oh no, Holmes. What did you do? Are you about to give this man another brain fever? I swear, between you and Watson you're going to murder him by accident.

Phelps raised the cover, and as he did so he uttered a scream, and sat there staring with a face as white as the plate upon which he looked. Across the centre of it was lying a little cylinder of blue-gray paper.

Happy surprise! Although still kind of a dick move for a man recovering from a stress-induced illness. Holmes does like to be a dramatic bitch sometimes, eh?

It's a nice dramatic moment, though. I can appreciate why he did it, even if I do feel for Percy in his poor, sleep-deprived, overly stressed state.

And now he's keeling over in a near faint, as well. Gothic Heroine, I'm telling you.

“There! there!” said Holmes, soothing, patting him upon the shoulder. “It was too bad to spring it on you like this, but Watson here will tell you that I never can resist a touch of the dramatic.”

At least Holmes knows it was a dick move, even if he doesn't actually apologise.

“I have not the heart to interrupt your breakfast any further, and yet I am dying to know how you got it and where it was.”

... I'm dying to hear about that damned bell. Seriously. THE BELL.

“After leaving you at the station I went for a charming walk through some admirable Surrey scenery to a pretty little village called Ripley, where I had my tea at an inn, and took the precaution of filling my flask and of putting a paper of sandwiches in my pocket."

This is not relevant. What...?

I'm so glad you had a nice little walk and honestly, a drink at a pub in a Surrey village sounds all kinds of delightful, but really... what?

Get to the bit where you tell everyone I was right all along!

Or the part where it turns out I've committed the heinous crime of being wrong on the Internet, I suppose.

"...witness the disreputable state of my trouser knees..."

No notes, I just love this phrase.

“The key!” ejaculated Phelps.

Okay, Percy. Calm down. That's what he just said.

"I was left squatting in the rhododendron-bush."

Let us take a moment to appreciate the strength of Sherlock Holmes' leg muscles.

"It was very long, though—almost as long, Watson, as when you and I waited in that deadly room when we looked into the little problem of the Speckled Band."

Callback! Take a shot!

"I suddenly heard the gentle sound of a bolt being pushed back and the creaking of a key. A moment later the servant's door was opened, and Mr. Joseph Harrison stepped out into the moonlight.”

(emphasis mine)

“Joseph!” ejaculated Phelps.

Percy is ejaculating all over the place, today.

Also... yeah... that's what he said. Joseph. Mmhm. Jo-seph.

I'm trying to be very calm and gracious about this, but please believe that I actually look like this ⬇⬇⬇

"...he proceeded to turn back the corner of the carpet in the neighborhood of the door. Presently he stopped and picked out a square piece of board..."

I was right about the floorboard too!

Not about him needing the knife for it, because apparently it's a whole plumbing thing, which makes sense and is kind of interesting, but... it counts, right?

“Well, he has rather more viciousness than I gave him credit for, has Master Joseph."

PUPPY MURDERER VIBES!

"Having got them I let my man go, but I wired full particulars to Forbes this morning. If he is quick enough to catch his bird, well and good. But if, as I shrewdly suspect, he finds the nest empty before he gets there, why, all the better for the government."

Another one where the villain is uncaught, although supposedly for the good of the government. (Honestly, the government deserves to have people question its security principles if a delayed cup of coffee is enough to put the entire political system of Europe at risk).

“And Joseph! Joseph a villain and a thief!”

Who...

would...

have...

thunk it?

🙃🙃🙃🙃

“From what I have heard from him this morning, I gather that he has lost heavily in dabbling with stocks, and that he is ready to do anything on earth to better his fortunes. Being an absolutely selfish man, when a chance presented itself he did not allow either his sister's happiness or your reputation to hold his hand.”

OK, fine. I didn't get the motive right. Fine. I accept that I was wrong on that count.

But all this ignores the most important question? WHAT ABOUT THE BELL?

"I had already begun to suspect Joseph, from the fact that you had intended to travel home with him that night, and that therefore it was a likely enough thing that he should call for you, knowing the Foreign Office well, upon his way."

I also totally missed that...

I based my accusations on vibes and vibes alone, and missed all actual evidence to the fact. This seems like a win, but it is, in fact, a loss for logic and reason.

"...you told us in your narrative how you had turned Joseph out when you arrived with the doctor..."

I missed that, too.

Dude. I was terrible at this. Lmfao at my own incompetent, prejudicial blundering to the right idea. I'm a farce. This is hilarious. I love it.

Finding no one there he promptly rang the bell, and at the instant that he did so his eyes caught the paper upon the table.

The bell! At last, the bell! It all makes sense now.

There I was imagining a premeditated crime, but in reality it was a crime of opportunity. Which I would have known if I had just read the text more closely. My high school teachers are all shaking their heads at me and sighing.

"...he had concealed it in what he thought was a very safe place, with the intention of taking it out again in a day or two, and carrying it to the French embassy, or wherever he thought that a long price was to be had."

OK, man was intending to commit treason. Wasn't expecting that. Thought he was just trying to fuck up Percy's life. But no.

“I can only say for certain that Mr. Joseph Harrison is a gentleman to whose mercy I should be extremely unwilling to trust."

Man was sus. Holmes agrees: Bad vibes. I got a Nat 20 Insight, Nat 1 Investigation.

I do not remember The Adventure of the Cardboard Box even a little bit, so that'll be fun next time. I wonder why it's controversial... or maybe I don't want to know. Guess I'll find out either way.

On that note, I will take my bows, and accept all due adulation on my brilliance and impeccable vibe checking.

#Letters from Watson #The Naval Treaty #Sherlock Holmes #long post #I do not deserve to have got that right #my actual detective skills were appalling #I'm embarrassed by how terrible I was #but guy was too nice #Let this be a lesson to everyone #even the most incompetent person gets stuff right once in a while #don't believe that makes them a genius

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trashcankitty12 · 7 months ago

Text

A Snippet From My Upcoming Fic

I'm real excited about this one, even though it's not finished yet and probably won't be for a bit. (All of the chapters so far have been longer than I normally write... And I'm planning for 22 of them. So... Yeah...)

But I'm excited. And I wanted to share a snippet of Chapter One!

This story is from my Grace Au, which is a continuation from my fic "I Didn't Have It In Myself To Go With Grace", which is a story in which I essentially had Griffin murdered by Valtor. On accident. Sort of.

This fic takes place roughly 25-ish years after the initial story and Valtor is being 'recruited' to work for the New Company of Light against his Mothers.

Fun, right?

Anyway, snippet under the cut!

Remembering his manners, he gave a careful bow, thrilled his limbs were starting to get used to cooperating with him again. “I’m glad for the chance to meet the one who got me out of Omega. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Take a seat, we have much to discuss.” Her tone had a slight drawl to it, (Rancorian?), and her tone was one that suggested she was a ‘no-nonsense’ person.

Fantastic.

Valtor gave a nod, taking a seat in one of the chairs, observing as she did the same. “I’m going to cut to the chase, I know you, Mr. Bellan. I’ve read your files, studied the archived footage of battles you participated in and the security footage from the places you robbed from.”

Great start.

“I personally think defrosting you and bringing you here was a piss poor idea.” She took what seemed to be an exasperated sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose. (And just where had he seen that quirk before?)

“Unfortunately, we’re currently in an ‘all-hands-on-deck’ situation and several of my colleagues are big believers in ‘redemption’ and ‘second chances’.” She used air quotes around the last bit.

“I take it you’re more cynical?” Valtor pointed out the obvious, giving a slight smirk. So she had turned out like her mother. “You don’t believe in second chances or redemption?”

If looks could kill, he’d be dead. The way her eyes bore into his, the way her whole body seemed to tense. But she gave a smile, though it seemed more of a grimace. “Actually, I do believe in them. However such concepts only work if the subject is willing to attempt to do better. To be better. And you, Mr. Bellan, I don’t believe you can do it.”

“Tell me, do you still feel justified in what you did during The First War of Magic? The stealing, the murders, the sacrifices made to the Ancestral Coven? Do you have regret for destroying entire planets? Can you even feel remorse?”

Valtor crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. How dare- “We were in a war, things weren’t so cut and dry.”

“Even war has rules of engagement. The Ancestral Coven, you, disregarded all of them.”

“And I confessed my sins during my sentencing.”

“But did you feel regret for them?” Valtor huffed. “Exactly.” She shook her head, glancing down at a file in her hand.

His. “Honestly if the situation weren’t dire, I wouldn’t even be entertaining this idea.” She turned her gaze back to him. “But here we are.”

“Here we are.” He paused, something she said echoing in his mind. “Did… You say the First War of Magic? As in… There’s been others?”

“We’re currently in what the press has dubbed The Second War of Magic.” She answered, glancing back to his file. “Which is why I was outvoted in bringing you here; my colleagues think that with your knowledge, you’d be a great asset to us, and of course, you’d be proving you can do good and be a productive member of society.”

Valtor frowned, his hands tapping along the table edge. “And why would I be of use? What happened after I surrendered?” What did he miss?

She paused, tapping on her files. “Long story short: the Company won The First War of Magic and there was a period of peace and restoration of what had been lost. However the Ancestral Witches apparently had a back-up plan in place and we are now, metaphorically speaking, in the eye of the storm.”

“And because I’m Their son, you think I can help figure out Their next moves and how to stop Them?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, can you? I mean, you said it yourself, you surrendered. You abandoned Them before the final battles, cast Them aside for a pedestal in a frozen wasteland. They may have changed everything about how They operate. But we are willing to take that chance on you.”

“And by ‘we’ you mean your colleagues?”

“Precisely.” She clasped her hands on the table, looking him in the eyes, “so, are you interested? Or am I right in thinking this was a waste of time?” Dragons, she looked like Griffin. His eyes and eye shape, but damn… Dammit.

“If I decide not to help, I go back to Omega, right?”

“If you refuse to help us, I’ll kill you where you sit.” She admitted.

Valtor clenched his fists, his brows furrowing. “What?”

“If you don’t help us, which would mean being monitored and kept on a tight leash so you can’t go gallivanting off to wreak havoc on your own, you’ll be executed. Nothing personal-”

“Feels pretty damn personal!” He all but growled out. She glowered at him, raising one of her hands.

The room’s temperature went up several degrees, sweat immediately breaking out over him as she narrowed her eyes. A warning.

He put his hands up in surrender as she lowered hers, the temperature going back to normal. “As I was saying; it’s not personal, but if we leave you in Omega, other Coven members may come to break you out. We can’t risk you rejoining your Mothers as Their favorite errand boy. There’s far too much on the line.”

“So what’s it going to be?”

#winx club au #winx club #winx club fanfic #grace au #winx club grace au #snippet #fanfic snippet #my writing

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alevolpe · 2 years ago

Note

☆☮️ Minako and Ami!!!

Alrighty!!!

Ami ☆ - happy headcanon

I think everyone knows Ami has always struggled with understanding people. She loves to learn. She cherishes and strives in environments where applied learning is the one true key to happiness and success. Ami studies, Ami gets a perfect score, Ami sees the perfect score, Ami gets praised. Ami receives praise and knowledge. So, why couldn't it stay that simple?

She had secretly always found excuses. She was meant to be THE top tier student, she has to study, there's no time and she's only human. So when faced with the impossible decision of trying to find a balance for her life, she dove head on. Sleep, Study, Social Life. She convinced herself, that was her happiness.

The harsher truth was, trying to understand others, making friends, and learning how to become more approachable was just not worth it. She tried that once, she gained was a group of 'friends', but Ami wasn't stupid. A few study sessions in, Ami was nose down on a large stack of books, the only one at the table, homework abandoned. Everyone else walking around, chanting, TV blasting, various drinks spilling. That was the last time Ami spoke to those people and the last time they spoke to her, but not the last they spoke about her.

So yeah, those very few experiences had made it even harder for Ami to understand, even harder to care.

But sometimes, the hardest of problems have the most simple of solutions. And her answer came in the form of a simple and sincere smile. For the first time she saw a person smile and truly felt the happiness take a hold of her, before she even knew it, a tender smile growing from her own lips.

The sincerity of Usagi and Mako's friendship, I think, is what finally convinced her that maybe, maybe some people are truly worth it. It's worth to put in the work, because they'll happily and openly show you the results. No trickery, no roundabouts, just straight to the point. I want to make you happy. I can try to make you happy. You look, act and feel happy. It makes me happy.

it was a start, at the very least.

Minako ☆ - happy headcanon

I truly feel like Mina is on a constant high of Ultra Dopamine. Not to say she doesn't have her low moments, but you'll find her dead and buried into her 869th incarnation before she's willingly to openly acknowledge the misery of her own existence. That just ain't Venus, that just ain't Minako Aino.

She has duties, both as the leader and as a friend, but fuck if she isn't gonna find a way to make it fun for herself.

A friend is sick?! Minako 'the sexy nurse' Aino is coming over full throttle and full costume making sure that spotlight doesn't dare to stop tracking her for even one second.

Senshi training tonight?! She's the shot caller, arranging all the set pieces, challenging herself with mixing important senshi duties and important 'I must be entertained, me, Minako Aino duties'. Yes, Mars, 3 more sets of single leg squats, cause of course that is very important. For both duties.

My friends are dating, but they are soo awkward?! Nothing that a Firefly 5 Inch Glow In The Dark Dildo can't solve, all nicely wrapped in a surprise box so graciously gifted during dinner (spoiler: it didn't end well...).

Long story short, if Mina has to do something and that something isn't fun, she'll make it fun. Most times at the cost of whatever victims friends she has brought along.

Although there is one thing that has consistently granted Mina with an almost inexplicable sense of sole contentment: Exercise. Mina loves, loves, loves working out. While I see her as having more a gymnast body type, so preferring more cardio and mobility workout, she's not one to turn down any type of workout; Being for Sailor Business Training or just for herself to experiment.

Where these 2 aspects of her meet the best I think is her love of volleyball. Training her body, mind, hand-eye-coordination and team coordination in a beautiful package that still allows her to snatch that spotlight for herself and make sure the people's eye are glued on her for the rest of the game, if she so wishes.

Minako and Ami ☮ - friendship headcanon

Welp, I've actually written about this before, right here. But, basically out of all the inners I think the MinaAmi friendship is def the weakest.

For the longest time, they just straight out didn't like each other, they just never admitted it out loud, I even have them beating the shit out of each other one time. I hc Ami as autistic and that makes it quite difficult for her to understand Minako's intentions from her lack of a clear response in both expression and tone. Her actions really speak to Ami as bullying behavior and that's not totally off. Mina thrives on getting a reaction, so she's willing to go to places where a lot of people wouldn't, just to get a reaction out of people and the times she does it on Ami, it just ends up making her feel very uncomfortable and quite angry. The others do try to stop this from happening if they catch what Mina is onto fairly early.

TLDR: Ami doesn't like Mina because Mina acts like a bully, has unclear motives on why she acts the way she acts and is very much willing to make people uncomfortable to get a reaction out of them (this last one is quite skewed from Ami's perception, since she sees Mina teasing the others the way she does with her, but never puts together that the others 'most of the time' consent to the teasing and are even willing to bite back playfully). Mina doesn't like Ami 'cause she's boring. Ami is very simple on the outside, and while that can be quite the entertaining show, the well runs dry as soon as Ami stops giving Mina what she's looking for, attention.

All that said, I can see them becoming closer as the years run by and mostly as Ami opens up to new expressions of affection and care. Most of the merit going to Michiru, whom I can see making a genuine effort, in her unique Michiru way, to befriend Ami. And sort of succeeding?! Michiru is in now way direct, every word that departs her lips is carefully refined before being handpicked to form the most enigmatic phrasing any human being could ever hope to comprehend. Her expressions, a total enigma. Never has one seen a smile hiding so much mystery since the Mona Lisa herself. And yet, something grew, they are quite content in calling it a friendship.

Beginning to understand emotion without a direct and clear response was definitely a step forward in understanding the blonde leader, since I never see Minako giving up her teasing I think Ami would grow toward more of a competitive side in their late teens and early adulthood. Minako wants a reaction? My turn. I'll practice this new Sailor V game at the arcade until all the top scores look like this:

Mizuno A

"Wow, Ami I didn't even know you played this game. You filled up the leaderboard" Usagi gawked with staring at the old arcade screen.

"Oh, I had some spare time yesterday, so I spent a couple of hours playing. The game is quite easy once you understand the enemy AI and get a sense for the tempo of the platforming"

Mina was quiet. The expression of horror plastered on her face. One to rival her encounter with the Galaxy destroyer Warrior Sailor Galaxia. A couple of hours, I REFUSE! ICAN'T BE! Endless afternoons spent sweating money, tears and MORE MONEY, MY MONEY!! on achieving that leaderboard, just for a couple of hours to

… she dared to peek. Out of the corner of her eye she could see a sight of true defiance and treachery.

Sitting on the worn out leather stool. The genius, her teammate, her friend, sparing her a look. A barely perceivable grin.

Truly the start of a miracle friendship.

#sailor moon #headcanon meme #ty for the ask <3 #ami mizuno #sailor mercury #minako aino #sailor venus #also i couldn't think of a single happy headcanon for either to save my life #so their happy hc is “their happiness”#still counts #maybe #I do think the MinAmi friendship becomes more than a rivalry between the 2 and they learn to chill and be friends #but they gotta go through some phases first #Did Ami really achieve that leaderboard in a few hours?! or is Ami LYING?!

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serenanymph · 1 year ago

Text

writeblr positivity tag

tagged by the lovely @macabremoons! gently tagging @lyssa-ink, @reneesbooks, @scroll-of-aves, @space-writes, and anyone else who wants to hop in! this is gonna be a long one so I'm gonna leave it under the cut.

1. What motivates you to write?

All the lovely comments I get!! I honestly just love seeing how people react to my writing. Also just thinking about my characters in general. They're just a bunch of silly little guys <3 (they are unbelievably traumatized). And thinking about those specific few scenes I'll get to write later in the book too!!!

2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

Uhh honestly I have mostly forgotten and all the good lines really only make sense with context, but I guess I am?? Mildly proud of this bit??

The air smells of sweet perfume. It’s a sharp, potent scent, thick and cloying, overly concentrated and enough for Beatriz to choke on. That’s the first thing she notices. The second things she notices is everything buried beneath it – dust, the faint, lingering tang of chemicals stinging her nose. Decay and rot. The air smells like death.

3. Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?

Wait is this your own OC or someone else's. Okay I can't really pick between my children BUT I do really love @reneesbooks Birdie!! Smol chaotic magic child, absolutely adorable. I want to give her all the pastries she could ever desire

4. What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

On one hand, creating the first draft from scratch is really fun, but on the other, working on later drafts with the knowledge you're refining something and making it better is also so satisfying. Hrm. I'd say first draft wins but only by a small margin (because nothing in the latter stages will exist without it).

5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

Uh. I have no idea but apparently a lot of people have said I'm really good at descriptions?? So. Descriptions. I guess

6. What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?

Honestly I think everyone's answers are gonna be about the same but, y'know. It's the community. Everyone here is genuinely so friendly and talented, and all the games are really fun!!

7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

I use microsoft word which is like. About all I use. Really boring ik but I'm used to it and for whatever reason I think it came with the laptop?? So yeah

8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

I really like exploring the magic system!! Magic for Beasts is largely emotion-based, and can be affected by a variety of factors (everything from target to affinity to environmental conditions) so it's been really fun figuring it out, but still making sure it doesn't become overpowered or a deus ex machina. There's also magic for mages which is a lot more precise and restrained. You can kind of think of it as Beasts having powers while mages have spells.

9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

Honestly most people would probably say something along these lines as well - even though I don't know what's causing your rough patch exactly, the only way to solve this not-writing problem in the end is to write. If you write, you can make it better. If you write, someone out there is bound to find it and love it. So, y'know. Just write. It can only go up from here.

10. Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters

Okay so first off, @allianaavelinjackson (though she isn't really part of writeblr), for always putting up with my insane ramblings about the little people in my head, losing it when reading about the little people in my head, and just being a really great cheerleader. Love ya. Also @lyssa-ink for being one of my first mutuals and having really interesting story ideas!! And @reneesbooks for her continued support and just being a super talented writer (seriously, lacuna lives rent free in my head). Plus @squarebracket-trick, @e-klair and @space-writes for all the STS questions giving me a chance to yell about Beast at someone, and lastly tagging back @macabremoons for all her support!! I could really go on and on and on but then this post would never end but to all my mutuals!!! Know that I love and appreciate every single one of you and y'all are awesome people!!

BLANK QUESTIONS

1. What motivates you to write?

2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

3. Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?

4. What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

6. What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?

7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

10. Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters

#I am so sorry if I forgot any of you!! My brain isn't working #you are all my morbos tho <3 #I am also very sleep deprived so if I sound more unhinged than usual you know why #anyway I had to use desktop to type out this ask and it is not growing on me at all. change it back #okay and uh tags #writeblr community #writeblr #beast #wip: beast #char: beatriz #ser writes stuff #tag game #my posts

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drakothedragon55 · 1 year ago

Text

Here’s the last six devlogs written by my version of Kaycee for the Apocalyption AU :)

— Devlogs and DATA (Part 2/2) —

LOG 7

I found that a portion of my Inscryption-related files got corrupted for some reason, so I moved Olcard’s file to my desktop as I restored my backup. But then I came back to my computer after a small break to see him literally googling things. Like. What?

I moved his file back to Inscryption, but that didn’t stop Olcard from ‘exploring’ my computer. We had a chat in notepad about why I don’t want him to do that, and he seemed to understand.

I know he’s ‘special’ and all, but I won’t hesitate to send Olcard to the recycling bin if he keeps this up. The higherups are starting to notice me and I don’t want him blowing it.

LOG 8

Olcard’s been messing with my computer again. I remember closing everything before turning it off after work yesterday, but when I turned it on this morning, both the search engine and Inscryption were open.

According to the search history, Olcard was brushing up on his spriting knowledge. I almost didn’t want to see what changes he made to the game, but I knew I had to for the sake of my job. Long story short, he messed with some of the Challenger’s sprites. Now this wouldn’t be concerning if it wasn’t for the fact that he completely covered their faces in red.

Olcard must’ve known that I would be mad, as I couldn’t find him anywhere on my computer. This is getting ridiculous. I think I’m just going to keep working on dialogue, and deal with undoing his tampering later.

Speaking of Olcard, I caught a glimpse of him on my desktop for a split second. I might be wrong, but he looked a little bit different.

LOG 9

Olcard definitely looks different. I managed to keep him on my screen long enough to talk to him. He’s still a mass of red pixels, but he’s definitely got arms and what looks like a singular leg now.

You know what? I’m just going to include the conversation we had. It speaks for itself.

Pardon my language, but what the fuck? I don’t have a working microphone on this thing AND the webcam is covered up! How did he know I had a water bottle with me?! It might have just been a lucky guess. Yeah.

I think I’m going to move his folder to the recycling bin, but not emptying it. That should get my point across.

LOG 10

I think it worked. I haven’t heard from Olcard in a few days, and I haven’t found any new corrupted files or tampered sprites. Maybe I should just go ahead and delete him. I mean, he was helpful at first, but as of recently all Olcard did was get on my nerves.

I’m being asked to help test out the mox mechanic. Don’t get me wrong: I hate playtesting, but I feel like I’m in need of a change of pace. I think I can finally put this weird AI thing behind me now.

——

So I’m about to play a few rounds with Magnificus, and I noticed a new, completely static covered card in my starting hand. I played it, and it crashed the game. Now Inscryption refuses to start. Great. Just when my luck was starting to turn.

LOG 11

I managed to get Inscryption to run again, and I only have one thing to say: what the heck is happening? Some NPCs have gone missing, and there’s zero trace of them anywhere in the files. And all of the scrybe’s dialogue keep mentioning ‘the red’ or ‘the data.’

The higherups are asking for a status report. What do I say? “Oh, the Prospector, the Melter, and one of Magnificus’ students went missing, and now Inscryption is starting to look funny. Everything’s a-ok here!”

The game refuses to close, and I’m stuck playing it normally. The bridge is broken in three spots, leaving me with only one option: Leshy’s zone. But the trees have multiplied on the overworld map, and it looks like there’s more than just a cabin now.

I’m not dealing with this. If this is what Olcard wants the game to be like, he should have asked me to make a mod once it’s complete. I did what I should have done a long time ago, which was unplugging the computer.

But it didn’t turn off.

LOG 12

He didn’t let me in the cabin. Told me to wait, so I did. I waited until everyone left the building. Can’t believe this guy is making me work overtime. I am beyond mad at him at this point and can’t wait to finally erase this jerk (after having one last talk, of course.)

As I finally was let into the cabin all the lights in the building turned off, leaving the computer monitor as my only light source. The power had been iffy the last few days so this was just a coincidence, right?

I didn’t see Leshy anywhere inside the cabin. Instead, a red person with an animal-like head was in his spot. I audibly muttered a “who the heck-“ and to my surprise, the figure answered me.

Y̸o̵u̵ ̵k̶n̸o̶w̴ ̸f̷u̸l̴l̸ ̷w̷e̸l̸l̸ ̴w̸h̸o̵ ̶I̷ ̸a̷m̷,̴ ��K̶a̴y̴c̶e̵e̸.̵

I said it before, and I’ll say it again: I don’t have a working microphone on this thing.

I̵ ̴a̸s̷s̸u̴m̸e̶ ̴y̸o̷u̶ ̷w̷a̵n̷t̵ ̸t̶o̶ ̶t̵a̸l̴k̶,̷ ̵y̸e̶s̶?̴ Completely awestruck at this point, I silently nodded.

T̶h̵e̸n̵ ̷c̶o̷m̸e̸ ̸c̷l̴o̵s̷e̸r̷.̷ ̴L̴e̷t̴’̸s̴ ̷h̷a̷v̷e̷ ̷a̴ ̸n̵i̵c̶e̸ ̵l̴i̸t̴t̸l̴e̶ ̵c̴h̴a̸t̸.̴

Part of me wanted to rush up to the computer, it’s fan droning louder and louder in the pitch-black space, but I resisted. Well, I resisted long enough to write this down on my phone.

I’m not going to pass up the chance to give Olcard a piece of my mind before emptying the recycling bin. I’ve had it with him. This ends today.

#apocalyption #inscryption au #story #part two #kaycee #OL_CARD #oc #long post #inscryption spoilers #cw death

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monsata · 2 years ago

Text

4 of 1001

Today's album: King Crimson - In The Court of the Crimson King (1969)

Oh man, here we fucking GO! I love this album. Can and will turn you into an evil scientist.

(in case that's a lost reference:)

youtube

So, spotify only has the "expanded and remastered original album mix", but whatever it's king goddamn crimson.

Now, i can already hear people saying: "wait a minute, The Doors are 'tedious' but King Crimson isn't?" Yeah, i like bizarre spacey prog rock better than drunken meandering calliope bullshit. Sue me.

Gonna just go track by track, since there's only 5 of them here.

21st Century Schizoid Man - starts off amazing and never lets up. A killer first track. Unrelenting guitar noodling, a drum set that sounds like the irritated finger tapping of an angry god who's just about to lose their shit entirely, and the trumpets, my god, the trumpets.

As much as i may love strings, i grew up on a heavy diet of Oingo Boingo and 70s funk, and i love a good brass section at least equally, if not even more than a good string section.

I Talk To The Wind - whiplash engaged! 7+ minutes of drums and trumpets, and that mellow flute intro immediately calms you back down, brings you right back to earth.

I've always loved this song, despite being one of the slower ones here. The lyrics are beautiful and just a bit depressing/haunting, to be honest.

And, not to keep going back to the "religious trauma" well, but 'talking to the wind' always felt like a metaphor for prayer to me. Like: 'I'm just saying these things, casting them out into the void, and the void clearly isn't listening.'

Epitaph - Confusion will be my epitaph. What was i saying earlier about beautiful string sections? Well, here's a great one. And the lyrics are just outstanding.

"Knowledge is a deadly friend

If no one sets the rules,

The fate of all mankind i see

Is in the hands of fools."

I'm just gonna say 'Elon Musk' and walk away from that one. I know it was likely about politicians back then, and it still very much is, since they're damn sure not making politicians any smarter than they were a half century ago, but there are decidedly more powerful fools nowadays.

To call this song prescient sells it short.

Moonchild - upon seeing the name, all i can think of is the kid from The Neverending Story weirdly screaming that word at the end, so, uh, yeah.

A lot of prog rock gets maligned for being "25 minute-long songs about hobbits and elves and dragons and shit" and i kinda feel like this song is pretty guilty of that. 2.5 minutes of weird flowery hippie poetry in a 12 minute long song with A LOT of nonsense and jangly filler.

At least "The End" had the weird "faTHUUR, i WaNt To KEEL youuuuuu..." part to keep it somewhat interesting, this is just plinks and plonks and 'sOuNdScApEs'.

The first half feels... Tolkienesque. Tom Bombadilian, even. The second half feels like: 'everybody in the studio is on really strong acid and we ALL just peaked, time to make some fuckin NOISES!'

The Court of the Crimson King - back from the goddamn brink. The lyrics feel like something i would use for d&d campaign inspiration, but unlike in moonchild, this is actually rad and creepy and evocative instead of just "hey so there's a moonchild, doing their usual moonchild shit in the forest where the moonchild is...'

And the flute soars once again.

The melody throughout is so beautiful and mournful, and the drumming comes back so hard at the end. God damn, what a great song.

I fully believe that Stephen King did a shitload of something and hallucinated The Dark Tower while listening to this song specifically.

Favorite Track: 21st Century Schizoid Man, no doubt. If you haven't heard it, just listen to it and you'll see. You'll know.

Least Favorite Track: yeah it's moonchild. Way too long of a song for not much at all.

#1001 albums #dancing to architecture #king crimson #in the court of the crimson king

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marydragneell · 4 months ago

Text

The Flares That Come From Ashes

(It lost it's formatting, but I hope you still like it! If there's anything you need changed, this is the time to tell me! Make a detailed list and then I'll edit it again :)b If you like it the way it is, then I'll make a receipt for you!~<3)

The Flares that Come From Ashes

Another short story for the amazing Mary!

By: @cutegirlmayra

"La, la, la~" Ember tapped the mic, then garbled some gibberish to clear her throat. "Do, ray, me." She spoke, smiling nervously as she seemed a bit spooked by the stage lights. "Come on, Manic. You really think I'm ready for all this?" Ember twiddled her claws lightly against each other, ducking her head slightly as she tried to see through the blinding spotlights and turned to see the rest of the band practicing in their own respective places on stage. "It just seems... like maybe I'm not cut out to be in a band." She rubbed her arm, shyly admitting her fears of joining his group.

"Nah, girl. You really are ready." Manic, leaning against the side of the stage, finally walked out to reveal himself and stood beside her, drumming her shoulder, then her head, then her mic as she giggled and pulled her head slightly away from his reach. "You just need some confidence singing in front of others, is all."

Ember smiled sweetly, blushing at his cute charms. "This will be a lot different than helping Shadow at..." she gagged, not wanting to say G.U.N's name and still having a biased against them.

"Right. No more secret missions." He winked to her, then leaned with his arms crossed on the mic. "Babe, you really think you can't have a first debut with my band?"

"I'm just..! Psyching myself out!" she shook her head, her long coat swishing with the motion as her tail fluffed out in hopes of getting herself pumped. "Let's practice, just one more time!" she gripped the mic and he moved for her, but placed a hand right where hers was on the mic, then moved it up to show that he would stand there as emotional support. He gripped the mic to hold it steady for her, and for a second, their fingers intertwined, just the pinkie and ring finger, making Ember smile at his tender touch of compassion.

"Remember your diaphragm is your strongest tool, use it well. But it needs to breathe." He teased, leaning to her cheek to and letting their faces touch. His breath was warm, and the scent of their last home-cooked meal made her giggle and wiggle her nose a bit. Tingles came from her hands up to her cheeks, and she blushed at how close he was.

Nodding and swooning at his flirtations, she finally took a deep breath... honing all the knowledge about music, tempo, and breath-control he had been teaching her and began to sing lightly.

"Louder, Ems!" he bounded towards the edge of the stage, "Louder, girl!" then jumped off, moving back and spreading his arms out. "We gotta hear ya in the back!" he started drumming on the chairs, "I can't hear you, and I'm up in the front!"

She tried to sing a little louder, swishing her body back and forth but still nervous and more focused on what he was doing.

"Where's my girl's voice? I thought this was a rockin' concert!" He drummed louder, since she couldn't see through the lights, letting her know he was now towards the back of the venue they were playing at tonight.

She took both hands and pulled the mic's stand towards her, the wires whiplashed and she hoisted it up above herself, belting as loud as she could a powerful note that suddenly blasted through the speakers like an avalanche on a mountain's side.

The whole of the arena shook in the vibrations, making the band behind her almost lose balance and a few plug or stuck a finger in their ears from the deafening sound.

"Whoo! Now that's what I call a lion's roar Friday and no canary Saturday! Yeah!" He seemed to be hyped about her new found sound but his band mates all shook their heads and itched inside their ears again, hearing a ringing from that loudness.

They clearly weren't thrilled about her almost blowing out the mics, but she patted it lightly and whispered, "Sorry." with an embarrassed smile. She just wanted to get back at Manic, trying to prove a point that she didn't want to—literally—bring the house down.

However, Ember was only focused on pleasing Manic at the same time. She still wasn't the best at making friends, but with the ones she was able to gain, she treasured them dearly and without hesitation.

She trusted Sonic and his gang, Shadow—obviously—and lastly Manic... first and foremost.

She was still a little hesitant about Rouge... but that was just because she worked close with Shadow, and she didn't like how close they seemed to be in more ways than just work...

Either way, this was family. What she had wanted from the very beginning. To not feel alone or useless... Manic and the others accepted that she was dangerous, but also that she was loving, funny, and sweet.

Sure, she could be sassy, but only when provoked to and by appropriate means... sometimes.

She giggled, thinking of times she's purposefully ticked Sonic off just to make Shadow smile. Though he'd scold her, it would be a light whack on the head, and she knew by the light pat afterward where he hit her that he was glad she shut his annoying mouth for a change~

Most of the time, she acted a bit like the gang's grandmother. She would pick flowers with Cream, try and help Amy to learn to sing, and duke it out with Knuckles! She wasn't always keen on the technical stuff Tails liked to do, but even then, she let him research her powers every now and then. Showing off her strength was fun too, but Shadow always told her to hold back a bit... which was hard, since Ember could get super competitive!

"Hey, let's go over some songs real quick. We still got time." Manic hopped up to the stage and sat on the edge, pulling out some sheet music and pointing to some parts. "You struggled before with this one but I think you've nailed it since. Still, no harm in rehearsing and making sure it's picture perfect right?"

'Perfect..?'

Ember lowered her mic's stand back down lightly to the stage. sorrowfully, she was pulled out of her funny, perfect memory and placed in another conflicting stance. There was no better word to dampen her spirits than that one... and it hadn't been so long since she felt so imperfect and dangerous. It was definitely something she struggled with, but worked hard to overcome within herself.

Those children... they were still screaming for food or hugs. Maria... and Dr. Gerald Robotnik... they were still marveling at Shadow before he had awakened.

Some things never changed, but her memories of not being able to save anyone... those were the hardest to lock away and turn her mentally gazing eye from.

"Huh? What's wrong, Ems?" Manic got up, noticing her change in demeanor. "Uh oh, did I cramp your style?" He moved his hand in an old 90's way and she shook her head, realizing he was trying to cheer her up again.

"Shadow's the ultimate life form... the perfect cure or whatever..." She swished her body to the side, ignoring his cuteness for a moment to try and explain herself. she nervously held her hands behind her back and rubbed them together too, trying to hide her fidgety nature. She sighed a long, breathy wind out onto the mic from her nose and then felt arms around her waist. "H-hey!" she blushed, getting lifted up into the air, her arms coming out by her sides.

"Well, it's true no one's perfect." Manic tickled her with his long, hedgehog nose by her exposed belly, making her fidget to get out of his grasp. "But your perfect for me, babe. I don't need you to do the world's sense of perfection, but only your very best self should be on this stage. Alright? Otherwise... I'm gonna have to have a private session with you in the back..." he turned her around and began to kiss her neck, making her laugh at his suggestion.

"Oh, no audience, eh? Taking the pressure off?" She teased, patting his chest lightly to pretend to get him off of her.

"Emm... something like that." He head-bumped her forehead affectionately, "Just us two. Playing... somewhat what we're supposed to do." He took her hands and pulled them out a little to her sides, just messing with her and helping her loosen up.

Her tail wagged slightly and she looked up with a red muzzle. He really was a charmer... "Are all hedgehogs born charming?"

"Naaaah," Manic let one of her hands he was holding onto go and waved her compliment off in a comical way, "Your brother was created with his natural, flaring smile." He gestured to his smirk and she fell to the ground laughing. "Engineered to be devilishly handsome, I suppose. Your family has good genes."

"Hand-selected." She teased back and the two fell in howling laughter on the ground, rolling to their backs and having their arms grasping around their waistlines, the tip of their heads right up by each other's.

"Yo, can you two stop acting so precious?" One of the band mates smiled to them, "We need to get back to practice, you know. And you two would be wise to do the same, as well!"

Manic just nodded, pretending to be serious again. "Right, mate. Of course, don't let us stop you guys from your hard work either." He held up a hand and as soon as the member turned around, he expertly threw a lightly spinned drum stick to hit his head.

"Ow! Why you-!" Then the whole of the band started laughing, jumping in to dog pile Manic.

Ember smiled at the ruckus, wagging her tail as she got up to avoid the squabble. Seeing how close he was to them, made her happy... but... She crawled away from the fight, hugging her legs to resist the urge to join them. Though she really, really wanted too jump in and roughhouse with them. She knew she was a bit too powerful to do that though... So her ears bent back and she placed her head on her legs, waiting patiently and enjoying the boys' playful wrestle match, all in good fun.

"We don't care if you bring your girlfriend in to sing, but do you have to be so cute with her, Man!?" one stated and she blushed. They never really officially told anyone... maybe just Shadow, but he denied it fiercely.

She wondered why... after all, Manic kept her away from Shadow most of the time. She stayed out of trouble too... so why was he so opposed to him?

He had stated he was fine with her having friends, so why not a boyfriend? Last time he saved her from Scourge, Shadow had admitted Manic wasn't so bad a guy... maybe he was prejudice against his hippie vibe persona? Though she knew in her heart he was raised in the rough streets where he had to steal most of the time... maybe that could be a player in Shadow's obvious disapproval of him?

"Lay off, dude, I can't help but want to hold her. Got a problem with that?!" Manic grinned from ear to ear, hitting the blokes off in their tussling sport before they all seemed to be done with messing with him. Panting and looking tired, they probably just needed to blow off some of the nerves they were feeling. It was their big night too... Ember couldn't screw it up.

"Whatever, just keep to a schedule. Kiss and coo after the performance, okay?" One went to get his fallen shades for his eyes and shook his head, just making fun of his friend.

"Yeah, at least we can avoid it then." Another stated, giving Manic a nudge in the shoulder as brothers would do.

"The love police, Ember. They're everywhere!" Manic got up with a quickened step, stumbling over as fast as he could back to her, scrambling to stay on his feet but really just crawling to her. She just couldn't help but fall for him over and over again... as he kept falling over and over trying to get to her.

He helped her up and she jumped to her feet, "Maybe we do need to just go solo then."

The band groaned and they laughed, "Don't take our best drummer, Ember." They teased in reply.

But as all seemed to go back to normal, the band rehearsing and Ember warming up her voice, a strange wind storm picked up... there was a rustling in the leaves as they flew up towards the stage lights... causing gentle shadows over the harsh beams of white. The wind blew a warning sound, bellowing as though trying to speak over Ember's singing voice. But in the darkness of the sky there twisted out a small, purple portal. It's mouth gaped wide, spinning with loops of different shades of darkness like blues and purples into a wavy effect in the black sky.

Finally, looking away from Ember a moment as he drummed, Manic sensed something off as his quills picked up in the wind's fierce direction. He stopped by reaching out and touching his drums, stopping the beat and vibrations to look around. "What is that?" Manic held up a hand for the others to also cease a moment... and listen. He then turned to his band, "Get on guard, dudes. There's only one thing that makes me this chilly." He began, getting off the drums and clutching his magical necklace a moment, "Dangerous schemes..." he narrowed his eyes towards the purple portal.

They all hurried to the back of the stage as something misty and liquid dropped like runny goop from the rift in the sky. It began to form from the shadows around it, rising from the ground in what looked like a misty, disfigured water fountain. A figure solidified... rolling its head into place and crooking its two arms out like a scarecrow in the isle of the arena...

The figure had distinct hedgehog quills... then a white tuff that looked almost grey a moment... bluish gleams from its silhouette.

It almost looked like... That obsidian color...

"...Shadow?" Ember stated in disbelief as the rift blasted away as though something fiery were on the other end. Flames that torched the sky and even blinded the band who tried to shield themselves with their arms. "Ahh..!" Ember felt like the flames were brighter than the stage lights... At last, the figure looked itself over, as though checking to make sure it survived whatever had brought it here.

The colors were slightly wrong, the grey instead of the red... what was this? An illusion? Some sort of trick?

His eyes were covered in what seemed like a green glaze, though it was clear it did resemble Shadow, in a striking way.

"Strange... this time was my only escape... I don't have long before Sonic and his friends blow out my other half..." He then sharply looked over to Ember, narrowing his eyes as he felt the pull of an odd chaos emerald. "Interesting... I sense a great sorrow in your chest... mind if I remove it?" he slowly, creepily moved in a zombie fashion with flimsy gestures with his hand to point at Ember. "It won't take long... but it will be painful... hahahaha." He laughed as though an axe hacking at stone.

"This doesn't look so good!" Manic grabbed the silver necklace that dangled loosely by his chest and a set of magical drums—different than his band's—sprung into existence through sparkles from the arena. "Get out of here, Ember. I don't think this guy is anywhere close to being your brother."

"B-but..." She covered her cursed emerald, and looked to Manic. "What about you? I'm not just gonna run while you take on this... this thing!" She was clearly spooked, but would never abandon Manic.

'It could be a clone,' was her first thought, remembering Shadow's stories and how Eggman had cruelly tormented him by making him think he—himself—was nothing more than a fake. Luckily, he was the original, and Ember could tell that right away... though she had never seen a clone.

"Shadow... I haven't heard that name in a long time." The figure slid his foot up to step forward, "Nor have I heard... Brother?" He seemed to twist his head as though stretching his neck back. "I wasn't aware there were more of his kind... but that explains why that dark essence hasn't eaten your life away just yet..." He was like a ragdoll, and quickly seemed to regain himself, rolling his spine as up to straighten himself, but instead his back lurched back and his arms dangled again to his sides. "I need a host soon, or my very being, the will and mind of Solaris, will be destroyed fully in my flame body, Iblis... Which Sonic currently is trying to defeat." His words made no since to them, but Ember gathered that he knew Shadow.

"You know Shadow The Hedgehog?" She stepped forward, but Manic just looked back at her, worried.

"I... drew my form off his shadow." His head lowered as his eyes seemed to pierce like spears through to her core. "And soon... I'll draw form from you as well..."

"Ember, don't listen to him! I can feel his vibes, he's no good!" Manic tried to warn her, getting antsy on his drum seat. However, she seemed entranced with the idea of someone that looked like Shadow... maybe another experiment?

Though she had a perfect memory, she knew for a fact that Gerald hadn't created any similar copies of Shadow...

'Flame body?' she wondered, her ears flicking as she pondered his words. 'Form?'

"Ah, I see you're of the sensible kind... excellent. Hahahaha..!" The figure laughed in his sadist way again, plotting something... "I was ripped apart from my other half by your... brother..." He gestured to his body, "I assume his form now only to survive, but since I have failed after merging with my glorious true form again... I have no choice but to rewrite time while I still have a silver of flame left in me... Reunite me with a new half, and I can tell you what will befall Shadow in the future... The persecution... the misery of his shamed life." He wildly swung a hand out to her, the side of his body faltering as he tilted with his outstretched hand, down and to the side.

Ember was immediately pulled into that promise, wondering what he meant and if he was somehow tied to another time. She stepped forward again, but this time Manic grabbed her arm back, "Ember, don't-!" he warned, but this figure only laughed at his attempt.

"Ember... what a befitting name... the last flares of my life... mixed with the ashes that shall soon be the remainder of your own... It's perfect poetry... hahahaha!" The figure stood like a scarecrow again, laughing as more dark flares formed around him, rolling his head back in dark humor.

At that last sentence Ember stepped back, and the lure he had over her lessened.

However... for Shadow's future's sake... she wanted so desperately to know more.

"I escaped a deadly fate, I only want to release you from your imprisonment... and allow it to be my salvation." He gestured his hand out to speak, seeing he had her strung on his previous words, "But not just my own... but to save your fellow immortal... as well..."

"He has answers. I knew G.U.N would betray us!" she began to grow angry, her fangs bared with her clamping bite as she gritted her teeth and growled.

"Yes... the world will never accept you... After all, we're both of the dark." He lowered his head, having her emerald embedded in her chest glowing the same purple mist with darkness lining its power in his crystallizing eyes with magma red glowing from the sockets... "Together... we can change the future." He flashed in a light and seemed to crystallize fully, "Now then... with the last of my power, I have altered time and come to this world... Ember... Give me of your power!"

"Ember, please." Manic didn't like holding her back, but he knew something was off. "You've accepted yourself, remember? The world doesn't matter, but those who love you do!" he gently tugged on her arm again, trying to get her to stand behind him on this one. "Please... this guy doesn't have your best interest at heart! Isn't that obvious?!"

"But he might have Shadow's..." Her eyes softened, but she didn't want to just shake Manic off. She knew in her heart that would be wrong, "If there's a way I can help Shadow..."

"Keeping you alive and happy will help Shadow!" Manic spun her around, turning her gaze from the figure, who lifted his head in a twitching jolt at losing sight of the cursed emerald... "If Sonic defeated him and he's running, don't you think that's a bad sign?" Manic tried to convince further, "I just can't have you go with him, Ember. Please, listen to me. Just this once, okay? You can ignore me the rest of the concert but hear my words now, at least now, Ember!" He was struggling to have her look at him, but she just kept ducking her head. She hadn't seen him this worked up before, but the idea that Shadow's future could be spared... But was he really a bad guy from another time and world? Would Sonic know of him?

She longed to have joined in that playful wrestle with Manic and his friends... If she was rid of the cursed emerald, could she live a normal life? Would her immortality fade and she could have a life with Manic? Finally end this suffering? Would her super powers fade and she could be a regular lady without a single care in the world?

Or would the world be better off without her... if she was so dangerous, maybe at least... she could leave Shadow with some hope for his future...

Impatient, the figure's being rose in the air. "I am Mephilis the Dark. I'm your only means for salvation." He began to form what looked like a crystal in his hand. It carried down to form a crystal around his body, and soon, he blasted into a hardened form with seemed to have a silver tuff that looked strangely like a bird... "Come to me, chaos emerald! Join your form to a more suitable host!" he formed a purple sphere in his hand and threw it towards her, a large dark beam flung behind her to block the other members of the band from interfering.

A huge ridge was created in the stage, and the others moved away to escape the glowing beam before Manic turned to see Mephilis charging through the air towards Ember, reaching for her emerald.

Ember's eyes looked ready to reflex... but relaxed... as though thinking it was time to accept whatever fate had in store... maybe for the greater good.

"No!" Manic slammed his drum sticks against his magical drum set that blasted out a sonic boom.

Mephilis pulled back to block the attack,... "Grr...ahhh!" In frustration, he was held back.

Manic looked to Ember, a sense of urgency and concern in his eyes, "Look, I've lived on the streets! Take my advice and get outta here or I'm gonna have to fight this guy!" he seemed really serious, "Go!" he was done saying please, and Ember could see it.

With regret at not trusting him right away, she looked back at Mephilis, then Manic. "You run too, then!" she cried out, but he was already locked in a battle with the strange figure now known as Mephilis... as dark orbs launched towards him but Manic played a sick beat that blasted them away.

"No! Go find Shadow! I'll stall him!" He seemed dedicated to the fight. "Trust me, I'll be okay! You guys go too!"

The bandmates all hesitated as well, but then took hold of Ember, trying to pull her back and let them flee with her.

"Noo..!" She shook them off, almost throwing one of them, "I won't leave you!"

However, the bandmates looked to each other and one put their hand on her shoulder, "Look, Ems. He's Sonic's brother, right? If he says he's got this, we gotta trust him." He nodded to her, "That weirdo's after you, right? He's only trying to protect you. Come on, we can fight another day. Especially when we learn more about this impostor!"

She took one final look back at Manic... "Promise?" she knew he would never go back on one...

Manic didn't say anything... but gave a light nod. "Take care of her for me, boys... her brother can keep her safe and I'll figure out more about this dude. Go now!"

"Manic..." She felt tears coming to her eyes but with an orb being sent her way, a bandmate stepped forward and whacked it back with his guitar. At least, he tried, but upon impact the guitar exploded and sent the bandmate flying back.

Ember outstretched her hand and grabbed him, moving with the others to retreat. "You better promise me... in your heart! I'll be waiting for you! Otherwise... I'm... I'm coming for you!" she was rushed with the bandmates out through the back...

"I don't take lightly to people trying to rip my girlfriend apart!" A side of Manic that Ember hadn't really seen in him came out, a protective and hardened side of Manic she didn't know was there.

She knew he lived on the streets, was a thief and all, but he always talked about having honor with it.

As she took off, she could hear him bantering with Mephilis, and knew he'd be somewhat okay. She could picture him winking to her, blowing her a kiss, and saying to find somewhere safe. But the only safe place right now would be... ughh...

She groaned in her thought process, "Shadow's going to be so mad..."

G.U.N HQ

"I didn't bail on Manic! He's not into fighting, true, but he knew something was up and I just didn't listen to him. I wanted to know what future that look-a-like was talking about for you, can you blame me?" Ember tried to explain herself, but Shadow turned around abruptly to cut her off from any further justification she would have thrown at him.

"Yes, and I will." He moved to the other side of the room, "This is bad timing. I get a headache when you say his name, and I can't remember where I would have met him. You say he has my form?" he looked back at her as she nodded, once figuring out he wasn't talking about Manic.

"Truthfully! I thought it was you at first..." she held her head down, worried about Manic again, and then tried to give him her best 'pleading little sister wolfie eyes' to get him to help.

Shadow just sighed, taking a moment to accept that she wasn't making things up for his attention. "Fine. I'll look into it, see if Gerald-"

"No! I know his secrets, this isn't one of them!" She swiped her arm out, declaring it thus. "Let's not waste time with reading insignificant files! We have to go and get Manic!"

"Calm down, sweetie. Your boyfriend's defeated but he isn't dead... yet." The womanly voice flew down from the rafters, flexing her wings out and patting Ember's head. However, the action was taken as a insult, Ember thinking she was demeaning her by making her feel like a child being comforted, "There, there. What a whiny little sister you can be sometimes. Especially since you're a number one target for that escapee recently."

"Rouge." Shadow's eyes narrowed to her, as if telling her to remain silent on that.

"Escapee?" Ember thought a moment, moving her fingers as if trying to put two and two together, then her eyes widened in shock. "SCOURGE!?" Ember gripped her head, then looked wildly to her figurative brother, "Scourge is out now, too!?"

"Apparently, seeking revenge." Rouge walked around her and headed towards Shadow, folding her arms. "You were instructed by G.U.N to track him down, yet you didn't even warn your own sister yet?"

Shadow just verbally let out a groan at her spilling the information without going over it with him first. "I didn't want to worry you." He looked to Ember, "I would have handled it silently, no need to get you fired up over a rematch."

Ember would have liked the idea but now was not the time, "E-Everyone's after me cursed emerald!" she shouted out like an Irish leprechaun, but stuttered in trying to make the atmosphere lighter than what seemed like impending doom... "So he's broken out of prison, there's a time traveling—I guess—looney now. Anything else I missed?" The room remained silent, eyes turning away from her. "Great, this is too much for a young, single, totally attractive immortal wolf to handle." She dramatically leaned against one of Shadow's desks as he glared at her.

"Knock it off. Try and act seriously for a change." He scolded.

"Isn't that why G.U.N... 'let me go'?" she did the bunny ears, but clearly she was fired from working alongside Shadow.

"You were a menace to them. You couldn't see it the way I... no, the way Maria wanted us to see them." He turned back to her, and she was slightly triggered on her name, but just shook her head.

"I've handled way worse before... than just losing Maria." She turned her head away, but knew Shadow was probably throwing daggers into her back with his eyes as she said that. Those kids... it was more than just Maria at this point, so... much more.

"...Look," To break the tension, Rouge stepped in-between, holding her hands out to calm Shadow and try and reason with Ember. She seemed to be struggling finding a good way to accomplish that... however, "You can't stay at G.U.N if you don't work for them, and since your last boot, Shadow and I have lovingly referring to you as the new apprentice to that hippie." She seemed to lower her eyes as if annoyed by that.

"Boyfriend, and I'm not a hippie." Ember folded her arms in protest, then stuck her tongue out at Shadow, knowing he didn't want to refer to Manic as that.

"Is it official, though?" Rouge raised a shoulder up over her cheeky look, disguising her clear curiosity but also sinister ploy to get her to admit that nothing had really happened yet between her and Manic...

Ember flinched, holding back wanting to fight her.

"Either way, your brother doesn't like that crowd, apparently." She looked over to him, "Jealous, maybe?"

"Enough, Rouge. He protects Ember, that's all I need to know." Shadow turned back to the door of the facility, having it open as guards waited with shields and guns, ready in case Ember 'acted up' again.

"And he's not a hippie!" Ember was humored by their efforts but was too busy with other important problems to 'play on G.U.N's fear' though she wanted too... badly.

"I disagree." Shadow kept walking and she walked behind him.

To lessen G.U.N's concerns, Rouge also walked behind her. "Seems to be the underlining case... I think you disagree wholeheartedly." she shrugged her arms out.

"Thank you, Rouge." he didn't pause in his stride.

"-That maybe he doesn't like the fact that you're spending so much time with another hedgehog other than himself." She covered her mouth with the back of her hand as Ember gasped and Shadow tensed up, turning his head around.

"Rouge!" he scolded.

"Uh oh, did I touch a nerve?" Playing innocent, Rouge smiled and looked away from him, seeing as Ember also seemed touched and went to hug him. However, he outstretched his hand in an attempt to hold her back.

Upon exiting the steel facility of G.U.N, the team decide to drop in on Sonic, seeing if the team of adventuring friends had any luck with remembering this enemy... but to their surprise—"Huh?"

"I've never heard of someone with the ability to shape-shift like that..." Tails placed a book down, trying to look through his journals but nothing was popping up about this strange Shadow figure...

"Maybe you have an admirer, Shadow." Sonic tilted his head back and to the side, giving Shadow a cheeky grin sneakily, but Shadow was too observant for his teases. He just rolled his eyes at Sonic's antics, choosing not to entertain him with a response.

"According to Ember, you were in battle with him before." Shadow explained, giving his full attention to Tails as Sonic dipped his head down and smirked, seeing as Shadow was trying to take everything too seriously again for his tastes.

"Oh? Must have trounced him then!" Sonic gave himself a hearty fist swing, as though to celebrate his victory that he didn't even understand had happened or would happen yet. "Maybe he's from the future? We could ask Silver..."

"No good, there's nothing about him here. Technically, if what Ember says is true, he does sound like it's his 'past' to him..." Tails deciphered through Ember's perfect retelling, trying to pinpoint terms that could lead to an answer.

"You assume I'm not?" She played, looking to Sonic to show that his sense of humor wouldn't go unnoticed.

He gave her a quiet snicker with his eyes closed, enjoying the fact that at least one immortal had some charm.

"N-no, of course not!... heeeyyy..." Tails worried he had upset her, but seeing her and Sonic's shoulders bouncing and grins, he knew they were laughing together. "Don't pick on me..." He whined cutely.

"Oh, never Tails." She swished her tail behind her, "Never without the intent to sweetly embarrass you."

He sighed and continued, "Anyway,... we don't know if it's our future or past. Not for certain, but it does sound like something that was currently occurring for him, and he knew he wouldn't be around much longer in that time-frame of space..." Tails tried to think over what Ember said, it was still hard to identify where this villain would have originated from in their timeline.

"Another world? Dimension, maybe?" Sonic questioned, trying to help him out with half the thinking.

Tails scratched his chin, moving his torso around before gripping his head in frustration, "Oh, I just can't figure it out! I need more information..." He looked downhearted, unable to help. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't worry, Tails." Ember lightly patted his head, "Maybe he's just some jerk, that's all we need to know, right? A bad guy..?" She still wasn't sure about that... he seemed to know about Shadow's future...

She was still curious about his origin... but mostly about what he knew of whatever future he had seen or known for Shadow...

"A-Aren't you curious?" Ember turned to Shadow, who walked over beside the couch and folded his arms, facing away from her. "Whether he's an enemy or not? He tried to take your emerald, which I believe sustains your life since you are a prototype. He openly admitted that Sonic had fought him and was winning. Wouldn't that mean he is?" He turned to look at her over his shoulder. "I've always known my path would be full of human fear and deceit. But I don't do it for myself... you know who I promised. I can't withdraw from this life, even if I know it will be misfortune in the end. My form will only be useful for such things as pertain to this world world... If this Mephilis uses my form and seeks to remain in this world by your power, then he is corrupting both our purposes." He tightened his fist.

Ember rubbed her arm, sensing she had struck a nerve. She didn't want to push the subject and trigger the tragedy, but she also knew he didn't understand what she was actually asking, "That's not quite what I-" but before she could finish, the door to Tails's workshop slammed open.

"Get this kid some place to lay down!" Rouge had shoved the door open with one hand and holding Manic by her other arm. He was slumped over, his head down and slowly looking up with a bruised eye, squinting it open slightly to look around. He was clearly hurt, his arm around Rouge to support himself as she tried to get him over the step and into the house.

"E..Em...Ember..." he spoke faintly with a weak strength that barely let him slide a foot under himself to help Rouge move him easier.

His black eye shut again as Rouge looked over to Shadow, "Let's get him on the couch. I went to check on him like you asked me to... but..." Sonic and Shadow moved swiftly, lifting him from Rouge's care and placing him on the couch as Ember's eyes trembled, seeing someone she loved so much in pain...

She covered her mouth, "No... no more... no more hurting..." she shut her eyes, unable to bear the sight any longer.

So many memories... of the ones she's grown to care about hurting so much... because of her.

Manic coughed, being laid on the couch as Sonic gave him a worried smile, "Like old times, eh? What happened to you, Manic? At least tell me you won... right?" He meant to say 'are you okay?' but that was just how him and his brother spoke to one another.

"Oh yeah, I did decently." He tried to open his eye more for his brother, giving him a playful wink. "Ouch..." He flinched, the action might have been too strenious. But that didn't stop Manic from trying to pull it off.

She had pictured that wink... but now it was so very, very different...

He was hurt.

It was all her fault...

Though that villain should be to blame, Ember couldn't help but direct the guilt to herself.

"They got the better of me... still, my Bandmates got Ember to Shadow, and they themselves found me pretty banged up... but those two... they made a deal." Manic's last words had caught the attention of everyone in the room.

He looked over to Ember, seeing as she was lost in her own thoughts, looking anxious. "Hey, don't be afraid, Ems. I'm okay... really..." He tried to grab her attention, but she was lost in her own self-grief and pity. "I just got beat up by some powerful, wicked bad dudes, no biggie. I'm still here, see?" He smiled kindly, though worse for wear, he outstretched a hand in compassion towards her.

He wanted her to come to him... even though he had gotten hurt for her sake?

She slowly approached, but her memories of the fallen were a lot for her to take.

She didn't want him to suffer the same fact as others who had known her.

"Shadow was right." She fell to her knees and cried, unable to grab his hand as the others watched her in shock. "Our only future is misfortune... especially for those around us..."

They all looked worriedly towards her, but remained silent in her sorrowful display, not knowing how to comfort her.

"I should have stayed!" she cried out, "You should have let me fight beside you..!" She wiped the tears from her eyes as he smiled at her gentle display of compassion towards him, but also knowing she didn't want anyone's sympathy, just like Shadow. He was too prideful to comfort her, so he just let her cry, closing his eyes to give her a moment of respectful distance.

"Look at my girl... so strong, like her brother." He looked to Shadow, almost like to mock him for not being emotional about his tragic fate either. "Heh, I didn't want to see you hurt either, Ems. I did what a man should do." He nodded his head back to her, dismissing Shadow, who opened his eyes to try and judge what he meant by that. "Protecting the people you love isn't easy, it isn't easy for anyone, but that doesn't mean you don't take risky chances to ensure their happiness."

"How does this make me happy!?" Ember gripped and shredded some of Tails's wooden flooring... "How does this make anyone happy!?"

"... I am happy, knowing you're not hurt, or worse." He tried to get up, but began to show the pain and couldn't quite do it. "Now come on, Ems. Come sit with... me." Ember worriedly raced to him, skimming his back and letting him rest his head on her lap as she gently eased him into letting her sit down and look after him.

"Dummy, I can heal faster than you!" she helped him relax again and he gave her a huge, dorky grin.

"Does this mean you'll take care of me? Man, so worth it!" he joked, settling into her loving care.

She gently massaged his shoulders, rubbing his chest, and trying to self-comfort herself that he was alive. "I am glad you're alive... but I refuse to just let you talk me into running off like that again... I don't care how mad you get."

"Heh... I guess saving your life is only good for a one-time thing, eh?" Manic closed his eyes, and even with everyone staring at him, he leaned his head towards her and began to try and take it easy. "You're so used to Shadow always partnering up along side you... I just wanted to be a daring, brave hero for you... at least once."

Shadow twitched an eyebrow, but moved swiftly over to Sonic and Manic, seeming to want to change the subject and ignore the two's intimate moment. "We need you to tell us exactly what happened." he spoke with a lot of authority, but also with a hint of annoyance... maybe he just wanted to get more details out as soon as possible?

Manic turned his head slightly to Shadow, then smiled weakly. "What's up, big bro?"

Shadow flinched again, "I asked you a question. It's urgency couldn't be more dire."

"...Isn't that the same thing?" He looked jokingly up to Shadow and then to his brother, "Did you see him march over here like I'm some kinda crook?"

"You do have your head in his sister's lap, bro." Sonic folded his arms, giving him a sly look.

"Ha, I'm not the dog here." He looked lovingly up to Ember, "I'm a gentlemen."

She leaned down to his head, lightly kissing it. "You're a gentlemen rogue." she teased, "Stealing my heart and all."

"But she gave you her lap freely." Sonic snickered under his gloved hand, giving a sideways glance to Shadow, seeing his reaction.

Shadow refrained from making a comment, but it was clear he was starting to get upset.

Ember tilted her head, "Shadow? Does this really bother you?" She couldn't understand why, but wondered if he really was protective of her or not.

Shadow turned his head away, and after a long, awkward silence, Manic spoke up again.

"Can't a man catch his breath first?" he turned his head to Rouge, "Can I get some water? My mouth's a little dry here..." But Ember bent down and kissed him again, instead. "Woah..! Did I die and go to heaven already?" he marveled at her, but she just giggled as Rouge covered her mouth and seemed to enjoy the young lovers having their 'catching up' moment before retreating to the kitchen. She slid her hand over Shadow's arm, whispering something for him to relax and then came back with some water, handing it to Ember to help Manic drink.

"Let him rest a moment, Shadow. There's no use in pushing him too far." Rouge stated, nodding towards Ember. "Besides, your sister can get more out of him than you ever could~" she teased. Ember smiled up to Rouge, realizing she wasn't as bad as she thought...

At least she was siding with her and Manic, for now, anyway.

After gulping down some sips of water, Manic gave out a long, happy sigh. "Ahhh... now that hit the spot. I feel much better, able to talk more now, too." He looked to Shadow. "That guy called himself Mephilis the Dark, right? While we fought, he was insanely strong! No matter how much I hit him, he never seemed to fade in strength all that much... however, I think I almost figured him out, at least his fighting style, but..." He trailed off and looked away, seeming disappointed in the turn of the events, "That's when that Scourge guy showed up with his gang." Manic narrowed his eyes a moment, remember the encounter. " I remember his name alright... They jumped me and my drums formed back into my necklace... they held me down and beat on me as Scourge demanded to know where Ember was, but Mephilis must have saw him as an opportunity to find her as well."

Ember bit on her lower lip, worried about them tag-teaming to find her...

"I don't know why Scourge agreed, but I have a feeling he's not gonna be honest in that arrangement... but then again, I don't think Mephilis was too keen on honesty or trust either... They all look like backstabbers to me, and they're all after your Cursed Emerald, Ember..." He looked up at her again, lifting his hand to cup her face a moment. "But don't sweat it, I'll make sure they never get you. Mark my words, babe." They touched foreheads a moment, as Sonic and Tails looked to each other, concerned.

"We'll try and figure out where Scourge is and what he's up to with this guy. If they are hunting Ember down, we should plan out if we're gonna bait them or hide her." Tails gestured a hand out, stating the necessity for a plan, but Shadow immediately stomped up to him.

"There won't be a need to use Ember." he stated, looming over Tails. Tails moved back a bit, but Sonic countered by moving up towards Shadow, stopping him from intimidating his friend.

"If they've teamed up, who knows how powerful they are now. He interrupted Manic's fight, and are probably after the other emeralds. Me and Tails will try and split up our gang, find out if they're heading to Angel Island or are abandoning everything to find the impure emerald." Sonic tried to bring reason and logic into his actions, which calmed Shadow down a bit. "If you and Manic take Ember, Rouge can go off on her own to try and spot them and stay as a spy. We'll cut them off before they can cause any further trouble. But let's hope they're only after Ember... that trouble we can ambush, sound good to you?"

"...Ember doesn't do well with plans." Shadow glared back at Ember, as though implying that she needs to agree to this too.

Ember nodded her head, looking determined to get back at Scourge for hurting Manic, and also hoping to find out what this Mephilis the Dark guy knew about Shadow... and if it was true or not.

"You've gotta let me come with you, Shadow." Manic winced in pain as he got up, which made Ember panic and grab his arm to help him. "I care about her just as much as you do... I may not be as strong or accomplished at saving things like Sonic is... but I'm just as good as my brother when it comes to protecting those I cherish..."

Sonic nodded, giving his brother a thumbs up for his bravery. "You won't find a better man, Shadow!"

"...Alright." Shadow conceded. "I don't need any further convincing. If Ember wants you along to help, I won't oppose." He began to walk out the door, "But listen... heed this warning... Scourge, we understand his ways, but Mephilis, we do not. We need to be cautious, for Embers sake." He looked to her as if saying she really needed to act mature during this, and Ember just embarrassingly looked away, still holding Manic's arm as he kissed her cheek to try and cheer her up.

"Ugh." Shadow turned away, disgusted by the display of comforting affection, and walked to open the door. "Come on, we should keep a constant movement..."

"Your brother once protected the president before, right?" Manic wanted to encourage Ember that he probably knew best, but she just laughed.

"And tried to destroy him."

The room grew silent.

Then Sonic let out a huge roar of laughter, gripping his stomach.

Scourge and Mephilis, on the hunt...

"We've scowered everywhere for this girl! Why is she so hard to find?!" Scourge kicked over a burning trashcan, watching it's tin tink against the dark street... there were people screaming to escape the fires, and Scourge just looked at his hand, gripping it tightly. "What good is causing mayhem and panic if I know I'm not the most terrifying thing out there!?"

Mephilis had his arms crossed, standing next to him, looking like stone... "I think we'd get along... if you weren't so deranged." He mused to himself, turning to him as Scourge got right up in his face.

"I only make friends with subordinates. We agreed you'd let me do this my way! Flush out the rat with flames!" he threw his hand back to the burning city. "Besides, you look as twisted as I am..." he muttered under his breath.

"I have no issue with you burning the world... but as for sniffing or snuffing her out, I doubt you'd find her." He moved with strange elegance, and placed his hand on the ground. Shadows of whispy, black vines began to mutate around him, "If what you say is true... then her emerald has negative chaos energy... compared to it's seven, pure siblings... it's power can't be controlled or harnessed... It's a mad stone. One who needs a host able to contain and manipulate its madness..."

The darkness began to grow, dodging the fires but being born from their flickering shadows cast to the walls as well, upon the walls they danced... and began to search for every living soul... Like a reign of purple and misty hound dogs, falling over each other as they searched for the same... strange... energy...

"What's that your doing?" Scourge growled, scowling at him doing something without an order from himself. "I don't like things done behind my back!"

"...Finding the diamond in the rough..." Mephilis laughed, his dark power moving under screaming feet, the fires burning everything they touched. He had missed this feeling... but soon, with the Cursed Emerald, he'll have it all over again... "The shadows I'm made of are linked with a strong connection to the ultimate life form... if she is at all with Shadow, I shall know of it... and take what I need to survive."

The shadows, almost like the fire from which they were spreading, continued forth out of Mephilis and searched with a lapping, slithering haste that seemed to crawl everywhere in a furious urgency.

Soon, they were outside the city, spreading themselves into the forest. Little Flickies hid in their tree truck holes and cowered from the impending doom they seemed to send.

One of the shadow tips lingered as though to spike through a piggy that was holding its bunny friend, shivering in fright. It came closer before it sensed something, and immediately slithered towards where Shadow was, diving into his shadow...

Mephilis tilted his head, as Scourge once again grew frustrated. "Did you find something..? Care to share with the rest of the class?" He bent down and gestured a hand up as Mephilis just creepily turned to him, but didn't look directly at him.

"I found him... I'm... listening and looking to see where they are..." He heard Shadow speak and was pulled back to the moment at hand.

Shadow, hiding behind a bush with Manic, were clearly alone for right now. "She's well hidden?"

"I told her to stay put." Manic grumbled, "But you know Ember... she's always excited about a new test of strength."

"This isn't a game, she'll listen to you." Shadow was once again so serious, and it was really bumming Manic out.

"I know, I know. But she'd do anything for you." He smiled to Shadow, "You know, she's really attached to you. It broke her heart when G.U.N said she couldn't work with you anymore. It felt like they were taking something else away from her too." He explained, wondering if Shadow knew.

Shadow remained silent,... a moment went by before he sighed quietly and spoke up again, gentler this time. "I tried to warn her. She wouldn't follow orders... G.U.N is different from the past, they're trying to live better than they were..."

"You forgave them, which I respect." Manic nodded his head to him, "But for Ember... it's kinda a betrayal."

He looked away, "G.U.N was run differently in the past. They've learned to accept my power as long as it's used for good means."

"Their means." Manic countered, fiddling with a twig as Shadow glared at him. Manic was momentarily distracted with the twig, playing with it and bending it but not to the point of snapping before looking up to Shadow and then throwing his hands up in apology, and hoping he may calm down and back off a bit from the intense glare of annoyance. "H-hey, now! I'm only saying what Ember's told me. You know, you two should really talk more... she misses you." He gently put the fallen twig back into the bush. "She feels like this twig here... broken off from every family she ever made. Too dangerous to stay with anyone for too long... and mostly hunted down for her power. You can understand how she feels, can't ya?" He gave him a half-forced smile, "You have to understand... how much she longs to be in a real family..."

Shadow 'hmph'd to the side, "She's always been sensitive." but there was a warmness in that tone... A bond that Manic was happy to see shine through.

"Hey... is that a smile?" He teased, gesturing to the gentle curl in Shadow's lips.

Shadow patted Manic's accusing finger away and flicked his nose, "So she's gathering berries and other wild provisions?"

"While we remain lookout, yeah... she didn't like that plan all to much." Manic made a face and Shadow only chuckled.

"That is Ember." He joked,"And you were pretty useless in that condition... I'm... glad you recovered well." the two shared a mutual moment of fondness for her, and then looked to one another. It was as though Shadow had accepted that fact, that Ember loved Manic, but also that Manic was a good man. For a moment, he gave a look of acceptance, before looking off again. "Ember... Heh." He seemed to be thinking back on their adventures together. "She's headstrong, like Sonic. Doesn't stand still for a moment... all this and more... is why she's who she is. Which is exactly why I worry she may never find a decent job in this world..."

"She's doing pretty good at singing." Manic volunteered the idea, trying to lighten the downplay on Ember's talents but Shadow only made a face. "What? Singing don't jell right with you, big bro?"

"Don't call me that." He looked annoyed again.

"All I'm saying is maybe Ember isn't cut out for army or military stuff. She's not like Rouge, a secret agent and spy. She can't always be stealthy," Manic started.

"She longs too much for the attention." Shadow mused to himself while Manic just lowered his eyes and looked back at him as though thinking he was purposefully being a downer now.

"She's powerful, yes. But she also has a powerful, beautiful soul to her as well." He started drumming the ground, "We each have our own rhythms, Shadow. Maybe her's is better suited to things outside of fighting?"

"Yet, she loves to tumble." Shadow joked again, which made Manic just throw his arms up and laugh.

"You're not gonna give my thoughts on Ember the time of day, are you?" He seemed to realize Shadow was blocking him out, but Shadow just pushed his head down, done talking about this for now.

"Just duck down low and do as you're told... Ember wants you here, that's why you are here." He warned him, but Manic just scooted on up to him, moving his hand and seeing a brotherly side of Shadow showing.

"Hey," he grinned widely. "I've been meaning to ask you... I never did get your blessing on asking Ember to date me."

Shadow seemed to lose the slight smile he had, turning to one of more worry and anxiety.

"I wanted to make it more official after I talked with you about it, but you were always caught up with work," Manic continued, but didn't notice Shadow's shifting eyes, and the fact that he adjusted his squat away from Manic. He seemed so unsure of the topic... but what was really bothering him? "And I didn't want to tip Ember off too early about it... Mind if I ask now?"

"No." Shadow abruptly stated, closing his eyes as though to tune Manic out.

Manic took a moment to wait and process that, before speaking up again, "No..? On the timing or..?" he finally turned to try and read Shadow's expression, but Shadow kept a low-profile when it came to his emotions.

"Ever." Shadow moved away from him, and as he did so, the shadows began to move and peer around him, as though fading and glitching out of reality.

"Now hang on a sec-" Manic got up with him, trying to stop him from retreating during an important—and vulnerable—conversation before seeing the abnormality start rising up and swarming the shade around Shadow's silhouette on the ground.

"W-woah!" Manic got up from his squat, "Shadow, what is that!?" He pointed, as shadows seemed to spray out like vines whipping the ground, like an octopus's tentacles lashing out from a spaced hole on the ground, in the shape of Shadow...

Suddenly, they faded into nothingness... Shadow's shadow... was immediately gone.

"Grk..! GAHH!" Mephilis pulled his hand up, the shadows quickly retreating as if being drained back to him forcefully as he gripped his wrist. Scourge had stomped on his hand, seeing him flicker, and thinking he was going to leave them.

"Where ya going, friend?" he sneered, grabbing him and pulling him up as he continued to glitch out and in of reality, causing Scourge to barely have a hand on him. "What are you thinking of doing? Running!? Getting out of the deal!? WHERE IS SHE?"

in his wildness, Mephilis was also held back by Scourge's team: The Destructix. However, in a flash of light, Mephilis completely broke free of them and sent a blast out to knock them back. Slowly moving towards Scourge in his strange movement way, he then fired out a huge beam of power to skim Scourge's ear, spooking him back...

"You're not king... yet." Mephilis landed a manipulative intimidation, faking that they were one in the same goal. He looked at his hand again, examining the strange rift of time and space... his time was running thin. "I could erase you all from ever being born... but I chose to use my power to aid you... if we don't move now... my existence in this timeline will fade... and my own world events... vanish." He glared, threatened by the limited moments he still had.

Scourge may be in a hurry, impatient without question, but he could tell that Mephilis was trying to deceive him just as much as he was trying to trick Mephilis... "You gonna back-stab me, Dark? Better do it while I'm in a good mood..." He smirked, getting up in his face again and not fearing the power he demonstrated earlier; or at least, shaking it off. "Ember's mine. I'll rip the gem out, then you take it as host, and I control you. We all in accord again?"

Mephilis just stared at him, and as though dismissing conflict, moved Scourge aside with a soft swing of his arm. "When I am host to the Cursed Emerald... you shall have a world that will burn in black flames..." He continued on, dipping as though sinking down into the shadows...

Scourge was getting ticked off, "He'll set me aside for the last time... do you have what I asked for?" the team showed him that the portal Mephilis created did in fact lead to a forested area, and seemed to have Manic with Shadow.

"Excellent..." Scourge put his sunglasses back into place, then adjusted his crown. "Let's stick to the plan for now... we'll deal with Darky later..." he then snapped his fingers for Fiona to speak up again. "What about Sonic and the other Chaos Emeralds?"

"They've fortified the island. It will be tricky... but with Mephilis's portals, we should be able to-" She stopped as he spun around, grabbing her waist, and gripped her to him.

"Shh... you're so fidgety lately..." He cooed, lowering his sunglasses, "Babe, all I'm asking is that we plan for that guy to be smoke and dust by the time I get the Cursed Emerald..."

"R-right." She sweat-dropped, knowing that he planned to ditch Mephilis as soon as possible. "In that case~" she flung the paper back behind her, letting it drift in gentle sways to the burning grounds behind them. It was clearly her report from her spy mission, and decided to loop her arms around his neck, "We'll need a long rope... or you'll have to chaos teleport our merry band of thieves..."

"And I, their king." He shoved his face into hers, kissing her as the others waited while they messed around...

Rouge watched as they all disappeared into the portal... behind them, thousands upon thousands of burnt ruins... and flying pieces of flaming fabrics blew in the wind...

"I have to warn them!" she worriedly began to fly into the alley but turned when someone cried out for help, and flaming beams from streets and houses began to topple over one right after the other, some in the distance and others sparking as lamppost exploded as they hit the ground. "...They need me too, though." In her moment of conflict, she flew towards the burning city...

"Please be alright... Shadow... Manic... Ember..." she pleaded under her breath, "I'm leaving them to you all now."

Ember was forging but finding it hard not to pluck a berry with her claw, and then lick the juices and call it 'not eating' her bundle.

She knew Shadow would disapprove but Manic? He'd probably think it was funny. She hummed as she tried to not think about all the evil people that were after her. After all, it wasn't new, it was just kinda exciting. She was immortal, never really aged, but seemed to have never truly lost her immaturity at finding humor in even the most outrageous and life-threatening circumstances.

Sure, you get hurt, but as long as its only her getting hurt she's okay with it.

She thought back to Maria and Gerald Robotnik, how no matter what went wrong, they were always together.

The kids she'd look after and who'd treat her with their skits and plays to entertain one another... they were always together.

Shadow, however... seemed to be more concerned about his 'duty' then spending much time with her.

She loved going on missions with him, trying to impress him. He always acted like she was a liability though... even though he knew how powerful and capable her abilities were.

She could control some chaos, she could do some amazing feats, why did he always scold her on her strength and acting first before asking questions later? She was very much the same with doing something and apologizing later, her simple mottoes, she supposed. It was just her nature, and it seemed to bother Shadow... Was it truly her downfall? Curiosity only killed cats though, not wolves.

Even so, Shadow was kinda always protective of her, now that she thought of it. Even before he accepted her as his experimental prototype for his creation, he seemed to have a distaste for leaving her be too long. Isn't that what brothers are supposed to do? She couldn't really know... but seeing how Manic and Sonic joked around, verses Sonic and Tails, or Manic with his bandmates... it seemed like Sonic and Manic could goof off, wrestle, and even tease without worrying too much about the other.

So then... what was Shadow's deal? Why didn't he trust her... why didn't he want her around..?

She felt her tail swish down to the ground at the thought... She had always taken care of others, maybe that was Shadow's way of showing affection too?

Wasn't she overprotective? Wasn't she always on-guard? Perhaps she just hoped her and Shadow would be different. A true sibling bond.

She would want to return the favor, but how? He didn't even like hugs... but they did trust each other, right?

She trusted him... he seemed to trust her... was Rouge right? Was that why G.U.N kicked her out? Simply because they did trust each other but maybe two experiments was too much for them.

She paused and looked at the food in her hand, growing sorrowful again. Was the world jealous, or just Shadow?

He was the perfect weapon... the cure to all humanity... and yet, she was meant to protect him.

Then why... does it seem like he's protecting her?

Were they really... ever gonna be like a real family?

Or were they already one? But an imperfect one?

She slowly... let her hands fall and the berries drop out of her arms. Sighing, she looked to where she knew Manic and Shadow should be, "I got the food... some of them aren't stabbed... hehe..." She tried to play off her pondering emotions and licked her claws again. "They're good, at least." she teased.

No one answered...

"Shadow?" she called, trying to look over the foliage and tree trucks. "Manic?"

But no one answered.

She narrowed her eyes... and began to sneak around to see what she could find.

As she twisted herself through the bush, she let out a quiet gasp and plugged her mouth, seeing Manic and Shadow each tied up by what looked like shadowy vines that clung and tightened with their struggling movement.

In her surprise, she comically looked for somewhere that could conceal herself. So while still covering her mouth, she dived into what looked like a mossy patch near some water, and let the moss cushion her hasty fall to hide.

"Chaos... Spear!" Shadow was able to shoot out some beams to hit back Mephilis and Scourge's team, but Scourge took out a knife with a refined blade and held it to Manic, then a gun with a black coating and held it to Shadow's head.

The others had successfully dodged the spears, and snickered at their futile attempts.

"You can't contain me, I'm-!" Shadow began but realized these shadows had a strange power to them... he didn't realize they were infused with his own shadow... thus making them successfully able to contain him and his own power.

"Quick the light spectacle and realize when you're beat." Scourge pressed the gun's barrel against Shadow to move his head back against the tree they were tied up too. Manic couldn't reach his necklace, but Mephilis saw his attempts.

Floating on some shadows with his arms out wide, he turned to instruct Scourge, "Rip that silly trinket by his neck... Let him know true despair, when one holds no power, and takes everything away from you..." sadistically, he held up his hand, as if a dark sense of torment was awakening once again in him. He crushed his fists together, "I want to see the look of helplessness... as I take that light of hope from his eyes..."

"Oui! What'd I say about you giving me orders?!" Scourge flicked the knife under the necklace, "Only I'm allowed to do that!" twisting the sharp side of the blade to his necklace's bond around his neck, he yanked it off of him, pulling back the band and making his neck snap a little back as he tried to resist having his precious, childhood power and gift removed from him.

"Nooo..!" Manic saw the magical necklace fly through the air, glistening in and flipping through the gaps of light through the trees... his most precious possession left to him, which reminded him of his beloved mother... like having his family torn from him when he was an infant. It fell to the dirty soil and barely made a noise, due to the soft ground beneath...

He hunched a little, already seeming defeated by not having any special abilities, and now... not even having his only means to fight back besides his natural struggling force. "Now... I'm really mad." Manic gritted his teeth, some tears forming on the sides of his eyes. "I won't let you get away with this... with hurting Ember... or with taking any of my family from me!" he looked up with eyes full of righteous vengeance.

Shadow had never seen this side of Manic before, and it surprised him somewhat, but now was not the time to be in awe. Instead, he noticed that Manic and Scourge had created a kind of opening. This distraction allowed him to sneakily reach back and get a firm touch on his communication device. Swiftly, and trying to be discreet about it, his G.U.N training kicked in and he began typing in coordinates for Rouge and Tails. Hoping the signal wouldn't get spotted by the others... Shadow hid the device under his gloved wrist as it sent the code, however, transferring it to the others remotely was going to take some time...

Mephilis, highly sensitive to Shadow's movements, rose his head in Manic's defiant spirit and tenacious attitude, but sensed something off with Shadow. He was delighting in Manic's sorrow and frustration, but that would have to wait for now...

"He's fidgeting too much..." Mephilis lifted his hand and in a whirlwind of speed, slashed Shadow in the head and knocked him out. "There... that's better... Hahahah!" his infamous laugh carried through the forest, as Ember's hands twitched in rage.

Her Cursed Emerald began to glow...

"Heh, I like your style." Scourge used the bunt side of the gun to knock out Manic from his neck, "Now what? Where's the girl!?" Scourge turned to Mephilis, pointing the gun to him... "I think you already figured this out but... I don't like to be kept waiting..."

Ember couldn't contain her rage anymore, the insanity from the Cursed Emerald drove her out of hiding, her emotions spiraling out of control. This wasn't the first time, but she wanted it to desperately be the last time anyone messed with her friends and life. 'I'm tired of people telling me not to fight!' she felt her body lose control as she ran on all fours to defend her beloved family...

"RRAHHH!" She jumped into the air, the curse in full swing as her entire body was filled with her insanity mode flaring to life. "Let them go!" Black flames burst from her purple emerald, and Mephilis's eyes reflected their glow.

"Yeeess... You'll do nicely." He seemed fixated on the dark power it contained, seeing it as the perfect host for this new timeline.

Her eyes burned white as she came down, but Mephilis moved quickly back, floating on his shadows as the earth shook and cracked under her power.

"Alright! An ultimate showdown! At last!" Scourge readied himself, but Mephilis drifted in front of him, his shadows like a catching up behind him. "What!? What are you..? Out of my way, freak!"

He shot the back of Mephilis's head, "I'm tired of this game!" But Mephilis's head just bent forward with every shot, and it was clear nothing was penetrating through his crystal hide... The bullets looked squished and condensed upon impact with his quills.

He slowly turned back... "I'll deal with you... after my form becomes permanent in this world..." He was fading, but reached out to Ember, "I can kill Shadow, and he has the power to destroy your beloved friend as well..." He then gestured to Scourge and Manic. "What will you choose? Immortal... a prototype? You were made to be a mistake, to learn from... But with me, I can give you your ultimate purpose..." He lifted his arms up into the air, showing the half-destroyed moon. "There must be revenge that you seek... much like your figurative brother..." He slowly turned his attention back to her. "I have the means to control your cursed emerald... join to me, child of error, and I shall make you the key to all destruction!" he clenched a fist up by her, showing his resolve to want to 'help' her.

However, Ember—still wild—had already broken through Scourge's goons that had come around from behind, and slowly hunched over at Mephilis's words.

The Destructix's lay panting on the ground, remembering last time... and knowing they're efforts were futile.

Even Scourge looked pathetically over to them, seeing that without Mephilis, taking Ember head-on again might be a bad idea...

Her eyes seemed vast and hollow, as though Mephilis's words meant nothing in this state. Instead, they were simply filled with the power of negative chaos energy...

"You have a choice..." Mephilis began, speaking plainly as he could tell that Ember was no longer present, but only the Cursed Emerald's protective recognition remained. "Surrender yourself to me... or let me take over your current host's form." he flicked his fingers out, before jamming his claws into Shadow's side again. "Otherwise... I make your host's life even worse... more alone than ever before... and you, the soul who reigns over her... forever. Hahahaha!" he had figured it out, her emotions got the better of her and let out it's full power. He truly was clever, and using Shadow as a trigger, hoped the Cursed Emerald would be fueled off of her emotions, and get even stronger. "Do you now see where my loyalty lies? Now... let us join together! We shall rule this world with a burning blaze!"

Ember's power skyrocketed as her body jerked forward and then back, seeing Shadow reel back in pain before going unconscious again. It was as though the amount of empathy felt in that moment gave Ember's body the same amount of pain as it saw Shadow endure.

"Mortal... immortal... nothing escapes fate." Mephilis pulled out his claws, his shadows released Shadow from his bonds around the tree truck and he fell forward. Mephilis never ceased in his dark pleasure of torment and pain, laughing and laughing in his sadistic delights, leaning his head back as though to gloat and strike envy. "It never gets old... seeing the fear and hatred on their faces... when I kill all they care about..." Was he speaking to himself? Or to Scourge?

Now it didn't matter what he knew about Shadow's future, it was clear he wanted a ill fate for him, and for Ember as well... Though trapped inside her own mind, Ember clawed for redemption. 'Manic... everyone... if I let this fiend live, he'll tear apart the whole of what I've found!' she pounded against the dark energies that kept her locked up tight. 'My emotions... they're not meant for evil! Cursed Emerald... you're not cursed anymore! You're my power! And I choose to use you to protect my family!"

Mephilis all at once... became her new G.U.N.

Getting a momentary grip on herself, Ember reached into her chest, scratching and digging to try and pull the Cursed Emerald out of her. 'I can't lose him!' she began to cry through the searing pain as her claws bore into her flesh. However, it was instantly healing itself, burning to seal the scars she was making. She couldn't pull it out, and it wouldn't be ripped from her either... soon, it back-lashed and forced her into a full state of control, meaning that it now had full power over her... and was completely consumed in her emotions once again.

"Join me, Cursed one!" Mephilis spread his shadows around her, but the Cursed Emerald controlling Ember's body tilted its head, only interested in destruction.

Bursting into raw chaos energy, Ember's body looked more like a giant, standing wolf than anything else... her power radiated into a beast in it's rising aura...

Mephilis was slightly taken aback, "This power... Iblis would be pleased." He laughed, "Very well, I shall take you on!"

Dark orbs were thrown towards Ember's body, but she shredded through them with her dark energy claws, her true form hidden within the massive dark aura-wolf. It blasted the shadows away that tried to consume the Cursed Emerald, showing that it wouldn't be taken without a fight.

Manic's head looked up, feeling the shadows loosen and weaken from around him as he fell down from the tree he was tied too. "What... what happened?" he looked to his necklace, and reached for it in a sudden moment of clarity.

"Ah-ah-ah." Scourge kicked it away, mimicking Sonic's infamous finger wiggle and grabbing him into a choke hold. "Who said you were allowed to wake up!?"

As Manic struggled, trying to reach for a punch, it was clear Scourge was stronger than him. "Hahaha! Pathetic! She chose you over me!?" He raised an eyebrow, "I'll let Mephilis weaken her down a bit first, after all, I tried to fight her and look where that got me?"

He threw Manic as he slammed against the tree, falling back down and struggling to get up.

"But you? That's the easy part. You don't have your precious little girlfriend to protect you." He pulled out his gun, firing off some bullets as Manic rolled on the ground to dodge them. "Darn that Dark... he took all my bullets like it was nothing..." Scourge rolled his shoulders back, arching his steps around Manic and tossing the gun after it seemed emptied of bullets. "Guess we'll do this the old fashion way..." He took his knife and and then stomped directly on Manic's necklace, making Manic look up and glare in his pain.

"You're gonna end up just like him..." Scourge flicked his head to Shadow's limp form, as Manic gasped, seeing it.

"Shadow! No!" he cried out. "Shadow! Get up! Ember needs-!"

"Nothing but death!" Scourge laughed, "Same's gonna come to you, and I'm not sorry. Let's consider it a mercy kill, eh? You don't have to see your doggy dame maimed before your eyes!"

But as soon as he said that, Manic jumped at him and began to push back, grabbing his arms. "I may not be as strong as you... but I'm ten times more clever than you!" he slid his foot between Scourge's feet, then pulled it back around his foot to have him trip and fall backwards.

Manic's drum necklace skidded from the action over the ground. Manic reached and grabbed it with a tumble, rolling before having it glow in his hands. "And she picked me because I'm handsomer shade of green than you! The ones that not representative of envy!" Manic summoned his drums, then took out his drumsticks and began warming up with a drum roll. "I don't think you can take this beat, Scourge!" he began to fire off sonic booms from his drums, pushing and shoving Scourge down, as the knife in his hand was pulsed back by its sonic power.

"Grr..! No!" Scourge used his super sonic speed to start moving to dodge each drum beat. "You think you're stronger than your own anti-brother!?" but right before reaching the drums and seeing the white in Manic's worried eyes as Scourge reached out for him...

"HRRAHH!" Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles jumped from the bushes, tackling into Scourge as Manic stopped playing in awe.

"Everyone!" Manic's eyes widened and then relaxed in relief. "Thank you." He breathed out, and then looked to see Shadow starting to get up on his feet, gripping his torn and pierced side.

He crawled towards Ember's insane, dark aura-wolf form as though desperate to reach her.

"Em...ber..." He stumbled to his feet, but looked a bit woozy from the loss of blood. "I'm... com-...ing..."

"Shadow!" Manic unsummoned his drums and kept a firm grip on his magical necklace, but grabbed Shadow to help him stand better. "What'd he do to you?"

"Urk... She... needs my... help." He tried to move forward, but Manic helped him not fall.

"I know, I know! But she'd never forgive me if I didn't help you first!" Manic looked to see Scourge's crew start coming too, and Ember's insane form fighting Mephilis. "This looks ugly... I know you guys recover fast, what do you need me to do?"

Shadow gave him one look, and he knew.

Save Ember...

for me, in my place.

Mephilis began compiling all his being into one, super mass of his collective consciousness. "Now... you're mine!" as though a miniature storm, flashes of lightning formed around the purple mass as the shadows circled all around it quickly, helping to move it towards Ember's insanity frame. Diving into Ember's form, other shadows leaped up from the shade of the trees to tie her down as she remained on her feet, growling and straining against their takeover.

"At last... though not Iblis... you and I shall be... Cursembaris!" Mephilis's ball of dark energy blasted the dark aura-wolf as it howled in defiance, but was absorbed into his purple and blue darkness, which then engulfed Ember's body.

No matter the power of the Cursed Emerald, Mephilis the Dark soon sealed himself in fire within it's core...

The shining emerald suddenly dulled with shadows, and soon...

"I can't waste another moment..! You're power must fuse with mine, or I will fade from existence of all worlds! I can't fight any longer without a host... You will do nicely! Hahahaha!" Mephilis got her down to her knees, as her form took on a crystallized state, and her eyes shifted to Mephilis's own...

Suddenly, her form was overwhelmed by flames, bursting up and spreading out to form her into light that mixed with his shadows.

The fire raged and burnt the ground beneath as she was lifted into the air, and then made into a black flame, crystallized, large wolf.

Cursembaris looked at it's new body... moving up to its full height, it laughed manically in a monstrous howl that blasted the wind back and forced the others to brace against the wind storm.

Suddenly, with the power of a cursed chaos emerald, it summoned many shadows. All resembled his previous form: Mephilis, and a deadly horde began to materialize to finish off Mephilis's original goal as Solaris.

"Now... to finish off this world... and burn it all, as I have promised you, Scourge... Hahaha!" Mephilis's voice was mixed with Ember's, and their laughter was more fine-tuned, making it sound even more sinister than before...

"Grk..!" Manic forced himself up, his drums ready for battle again. "I've fought you once and held my own! Release Ember, now!" he hit the drums hard, but the fused creation just flicked his wolf's paw, and thousands of the shadow-horde began to run towards Manic.

Cursembaris laughed through it's crystallized body as though cackling howls from rocks banging against an echoing cave... Ember's voice being drowned out by Mephilis. It stalked around the battlefield as though eyeing its prey, watching Manic desperately fight back against the horde. It kept it's head low, readying to pounce at any moment...

The shadows were destroyed by different drumbeat sonic booms, but Manic was already feeling the weariness setting in. Gritting his teeth, he tried to send the blasts where they needed to go.

"This world will be too easy..." Mephilis mused, holding a clawed, crystal paw out, as though ready to hunt. "I will destroy the ultimate life form... take out Sonic once and for all,... and then leave you as a toothpick for when I'm bored!" Cursembaris's snarl spewed fire through its bared teeth. This was driving Manic insane, he hated it with a deep passion and anger, hearing Ember's lovely voice mingled with such evil.

Shadow, still hunched over, brought out his hand to his side, 'I can't let this stand... I won't lose her. I won't lose anyone else!' He looked up at his sister, seeing a form which he didn't know or understand. His fist tightened, "I had to let you go once... I won't do it again!" He took off his limiters, preparing himself as he stored his power up. "Chaos... spears!" he was able to successfully target a few spears that pierced through the shadows, having them automatically disintegrate and then strike through Cursembaris's crystal hide. They were made of pure light and chaos energy, stabbing with an effect into a dark being like Mephilis and the Cursed Emerald meant it began to weaken the shadows around it, causing actual damage.

It's crystal wolf body was jammed back with each successful spear glowing an area of effect around it, spreading light through its being...

"Hopefully... you can... push through it..." Shadow fell back to his knees, then fell down as his body began to recover and forced him to yield.

It's head slowly looked up to Shadow after examining itself, and almost with concern, it stared... until Mephilis's voice, the dominant sound, rang through again in it's muffled cry. "You'd injure your own sister..? For the sake of the world..? Shadow... I never thought you so cruel..."

Shadow frowned openly, his fangs bared, gripping his injured side as he twitched helpless on the ground. "I'm not aiming for her..!"

Cursembaris tilted it's head, then turned to see Scourge had fought off Sonic, throwing him off of him but seeing his team still apprehended. He glared to it and charged, jumping and grabbing the Cursed Emerald in glowing purple as he was burned by its natural protection of itself. "My turn!" his eyes blazed with power... though the Cursed Emerald wanted to lash back and fight, it was being controlled by Mephilis... So it could only sear him for now...

"This power is meant to be mine!" Scourge used all his imbued Master Emerald strength to try and force the Cursed Emerald out. The natural repulsion was actually working in his favor... The gem began to move out from the spiraling flames and dark purple mist... Thanks to Shadow's Chaos Spears still giving the creature splotches of yellow glowing light to weaken Mephilis's control and power over it.

"N...Nooo!" Mephilis, weakened by the now exploding Chaos Spears Shadow had thrown, felt them pulse off with every hit from Manic's other light and sound based attack...

Soon, Scourge's tug-o-war was actually succeeding, as his gloves were consumed in flame, his insane smirk never left him.

Manic's feelings pounded the drums with a powerful beat that exploded his sonic booms to push Mephilis back and Scourge closer to pulling the Cursed Emerald out. Shadow watched as he flicked his fingers and wrists, letting the Chaos Spears go off one by one in rhythm with Manic's attacks.

Howling into whimpers, Cursembaris reeled its massive form skyward, leaning its head back in the pain and slowly defusing at Scourge's persistence.

"Nooo..! I refuse to lose! I must at least destroy Sonic The Hedgehog! The Iblis Trigger!" Mephilis began to fade... his time running out. He turned to Sonic and his gang, who were unsure of how to approach the creature without getting burned. Bringing out the pure Chaos Emeralds, Sonic turned Super, and stared into the magma stones that made the being's eyes... dead in their centers as his form glowed the same way the Chaos Spears had...

"You want some?" He gestured to his new, light-based form. "Come and get me!" he bolted off at incredible speeds, flying behind Cursembaris and charging into it's neck. Digging his way through, Sonic pushed and punched the Cursed Emerald towards Scourge, helping to remove it.

According to Tails, if the Cursed Emerald was removed from Mephilis, Ember would return. He noticed the shift of polarity around the two converging timelines that were still being affected by Mephilis's presence, and determined that if they stalled long enough, Mephilis the Dark would fade from this reality, his own being wiped out in the process...

"Why... can't I... fight back?!" Mephilis's voice rang through as Cursembaris swung it's head around, trying to resist the urge to create more destruction and hacok. With all these forcing whamming into it, causing great damage to the Dark forces controlling it, the light side began to shine through...

It leaned it's head up, it's eyes filling with the white fire that Ember's would have had if still in her insanity mode.

"I ... won't... hurt... my family."

Ember's voice... was finally in control.

Scourge—at last—had gripped a Chaos Spear that hadn't exploded yet, feeling his hands burn from the light of that as well as the whipping backlash from the Cursed Emerald, and ripped it out of place. He forced it deeper into the beast, jamming it behind the Cursed Emerald and desperately trying to excavate it out as he wiggled the Chaos Spear around to hopefully pull it lose. Finally, he ripped Ember's fusion out from Mephilis as he faded away in a blaze of glory.

"Ah... HAAA...ahhhhh..." Mephilis's form began to drift towards the ground, as Ember's landed in ashes... "Now... I shall truly be... forgotten..." Mephilis's consciousness, a purple mass of shadows, slowly dwindled out on the ground... a puddle becoming less and less... before all at once... getting blown gently out of reality and time...

Ember opened her eyes gently, seeing the ash below her clawed fingers drift as scourged sunglasses tank'ed against the ground near her. As Mephilis disappeared, Super Sonic slowly returned down to the ground, and looked around for Scourge. "Where is he..? What..?" He saw the sunglasses, as Ember seemed to refuse to reach for them.

Super Sonic remained silent, horrified but also dropping his jaw at the fact that the heat had been so intense that perhaps... Scourge was was burnt into oblivion too...

He turned his head down and closed his eyes, but in his moment for the dead, Scourge was glowing green behind him. "Aw, I'm touched." and then sucker-punched Sonic. "But if that emerald won't budge, I'll kill her and take it for myself!" Hearing that he may try and fuse with the Cursed Emerald, Ember slowly got up, clutching her now completely black and soot-covered chest... forcing herself upright.

Shadow gripped his side and stumbled over to Manic, giving him a nod. He knew now that Manic would do whatever it took to protect Ember and keep her safe. Giving him a thumbs up... he turned to Ember, mouthed words she only wished she could have heard... and then collapsed.

"Shadow!" Manic didn't leave his drums again, seeing Scourge crash Super Sonic against multiple trees and then grab Ember, still trying to control her power.

However,...

"You never learn..." Ember muttered, sending him back in a backlash as she moved her arm and let him grab the Cursed Emerald again, but was blown so far away in its fury... She then, seeing the damage done, knew what last thing she should try.

Surrendering fully to its cursed power, she leaned her body back. "Shadow... I love you too. I won't forget again... that you accept the good I see in Manic, and that you don't want to lose me just as much... as I'd hate to lose you too." She let out some tears, as the Cursed Emerald began its last stand at defending itself. "Manic... I've seen you struggle, and do everything within your power to protect me... I won't forget this... I won't forget your love and devotion. Even if you only have the power of a mortal... you fought an immortal cause. You have gained your victory... And I will love you forever." Then she spread her arms out, "I'll remember... but you won't need too... This awful fate... that threatened my friends and family... will never be again." She closed her eyes, as Manic tried to run to her, "Chaos... Unleashed." A huge white light engulfed the entire area...

Time was rewritten, as is what the power of the Chaos Emeralds can do... though this power was reversed in that it could completely rewrite fate only if severely threatened by removal and/or death.

Ember was sitting down with Manic after the concert, leaning on his shoulder. 'Finally... Peace.' she thought to herself, proud that she was able to muster the courage to perform after all the emotional and painful turmoil of the time that never was...

Only she alone remembered... Shadow's figurative blessing to Manic in a simple accepting thumbs-up, and that mysterious figure that she still didn't know who or what he was... She had already called Shadow to warn him about Scourge's escape and they found him right away. It was as though she saved her family without a single soul knowing about it.

'Good... who needs another gloat, anyway?' she joked within her mind, smiling as Manic kissed her forehead, still thinking she was just calming down from stage fright.

Shadow's Chaos Spears had weakened both Mephilis and the Cursed Emerald's power, allowing Scourge to pull her out. Then, when the spears disappeared, Ember had control over her insanity power for a split second, and used it to go back... knowing Mephilis wouldn't be there to screw up her future this time... But the unleashed Chaos came with a price...

She leaned up to look at Manic, "When I predicted Scourge's eventual escape, I also told Shadow how much you cared about me... I think he's willing to see that I want time with him... and with you, too." she gently put her hand into his, grasping it lightly. "Is that alright?" she looked down as though shyly to his hand.

He chuckled to himself, growing nervous. "W-what? What brought that up all of a sudden?" He rubbed behind his quills, but she fiddled with his long-hanging bangs as he smiled warmly to her. "Did you learn my secret?"

"What secret?" she looked away, pretending like she didn't know he wanted Shadow's blessing. She had heard a lot through Mephilis's fusion with her, and his shadows and knowledge of them were something she was able to discover. Though... she still didn't understand his reasoning when she searched his mind for 'Iblis Trigger' or 'Solaris'. It was all too confusing, anyway, and she didn't stay fused for too long either.

But his influence over her was still there... the longing for destruction, the cunning and manipulation... her Cursed Emerald's flame would never glow the same...

"Never you mind how I know things~" she teased, fanning them away and disregarding her own sinister thoughts that she would push away. She was strong enough to resist whatever power was still infused in her emerald... she didn't care. She only wanted to use her power to protect those she cared about. The power would be used for nothing else, "Just come here and tell me what a great singer I was tonight..." she cupped his face, knowing he really did try everything to protect her in that other, erased timeline now. They kissed very sweetly, but he soon pulled her into a deeper, more passionate moment.

"You sang like a dark angel." he slowly moved over her, as she spread her back slowly against the stage's floor, letting him make his way over her. "Like a siren through the sea of lights..." She was feeling her heart rate escalate with the moment when...

Suddenly, a voice came from the rafters.

"Now, now, you two." The alluring woman's voice slyly added, "Play nice! After all, I'd hate to tell Shadow that when he sent me to look after you, that you and your new boyfriend —who he so graciously allowed for you to be with —were being naughty..."

Rouge's voice rang a thousand times in Ember's ears and mind when she pulled away from Manic and shook her fist in frustration. "SHHHADDDOWW!" she whined in disapproval, not liking that he sent Rouge to spy on her, still thinking her a child.

"Hmph!" she folded her arms, turning from Manic and pouting. "He still can't trust me!?"

Manic just laughed, "Ohhh, now I see the family resemblance!" he pointed to her frown and then clutched his head and stomach, belting out a hardy, but joyous cascade of laughter.

She couldn't help it, she may be imperfect but so was the rest of the world. She had a family... and no matter what twists in time or space was brought their way, they would always love each other, and want to spend time with one another.

That brought her peace. Love and family, imperfect people being perfect for each other.

She hugged Manic and laughed too, enjoying the moment with him, as Rouge smiled sweetly down to them and then flew off, giving them their alone time and space... since this was the timeline within this universe's space that they could do so... without any distractions or restraints~!

END.

#sonic fandom #sonic comics #shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #sonic oc #sonic underground #manic the hedgehog

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starsaver94 · 11 months ago

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No need to say sorry, it's fine.

And yeah, I'd love tellin' ya about Akugaki!

Long Story short, he was born to a loving mother who unfortunately died due to complications a few days after his birth, and he was left behind with his much less loving father.

Things sucked for some time since his father was practically a dead beat before hand, and only barely scrapes by to support the both of them. Things get ay worse when Akugaki develops his quirk, which not only makes him super hungry all the time despite not actually needing any more food, is also very, very unsightly when activated. It's hard to describe, but imagine a Xenomorph's second jaw in a human, and there's also more than one.

Anyhow, after a couple more years, his dad had basically had enough and decided to sell him off, which Akugaki barely escaped from by using his quirk, but not before he was already driven off to who knows where.

Already burdened by the guilt of believing he killed his mother, the bullying his quirk got him, and now the knowledge his father absolutely despised him, he believes it all to be his own fault, and lives life out as a street rat, away from society, where he thinks he belongs.

The lil fic takes place in the past, when MHA starts he'd be a couple years older than Midoriya. I'm not entirely sure how to implement him yet, but i just like his concept (and he's a bit of a self insert-)

Interesting. So he has a Transformation type quirk that caused him to become an outcast. I wonder if he'll still strive to become a hero or vigilante, or if he'll become a villain and join the League of Villains (Shigaraki's group).

I don't remember if I told you about my MHA OC or not.

#author answers #star answers #little bro j

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mercy-burning · 3 years ago

Text

Your Favorite — Part 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: When Y/N comes home from college for the summer to meet her mom's new boyfriend, she finds herself in a rather tough spot when she can’t stop thinking about him— And it seems he feels the same... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, masturbation (female and male), minor exhibitionism kink, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, breeding kink (kinda? i think? 😅) Word Count: 7.3k (do you see now why I had to make it a miniseries? alsdjfdk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

DISCLAIMER: In this story, Spencer is dating Y/N’s mom while also having a sexual relationship with the reader herself. Because of that, there are obvious undertones of cheating, alongside some perv-y tendencies when it comes to a partner’s daughter. That being said, Spencer and Y/N’s relationship is consensual. However— If any of what I just forewarned is something that you think will make you uncomfortable while reading, please do not read! If there are any more disclaimers you think I may have missed, don’t hesitate to tell me! There is another post I made HERE with some disclaimers as well if you want to know more about what this story will entail.

NOTE: This intro is already too long, so I’ll just get this out of the way: you can find visual nsfw inspirations for this story over at @mercy-midnight, I’m working on a playlist for this story on my Spotify @/mercyburning, and I don’t know when part 2 and 3 will be out, but you can assume they’ll be here within the next few weeks.

———

JUNE 5th

I hate my mom's new boyfriend.

For the past three months she'd been telling me about this new guy who's "The One" as if "The One" hasn't been like four other guys in the past two years.

And as much as I'd love for my mom to find someone to spend the rest of her life with, I don't believe she'd ever find Mr. Perfect at this rate. Unless she spent more than a few months with them at a time before dragging me home from college for a weekend to meet them, I really don't see it happening.

It just sucks. Because every time she does this, every time I return home, I see the glimmering hope in her eyes and the diminishing spark in his, and I know. I know it won't last, and her heart will be utterly broken within the span of a few months.

I always thought maybe she just had terrible taste in men.

But this time around, when I begrudgingly walk through the door of my childhood home for the summer and see my mother clinging to a man who returns that glimmer in her eyes, I know she's picked a good one.

And I hate him.

His name is Spencer Reid, and he's a retired FBI agent who teaches full time at local colleges now.

He greets me with a bona fide, radiant smile, unlike all the others before, and it sets my insides on fire. And when we sit down for dinner, he's polite (but not in a fake way,) and he seems genuinely curious about my studies and my personality and my relationship with my mother. And when dinner is finished he offers to clean up while Mom and I settle in the living room.

I see the way he looks at me as I leave, a gentle, closed-mouth smile and eyes that linger a little too long on my exposed legs before averting, a glint of shame pooling within them, and it only spreads that fire in my belly.

Maybe I'd been imagining the whole thing, because deep down I wanted him to look at me the way he had... But it's hard to tell when my brain is mostly setting off sirens, blaring "THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS WRONG!" on a loop with blinding lights.

And they're even louder when my mom wraps her arm around me and lays her head atop mine. "Well, what do you think? He's great, huh?"

She's so lovesick, it hurts. It hurts even worse knowing that all I can think about is his big hands wrapped around my throat while he fucks me into the squeaky twin-sized mattress in my bedroom upstairs.

But I can't tell her that, obviously.

And so I decidedly hate him. And I have no choice but lie to her face, embracing her joy and hoping that I'll be able to survive this summer.

"Yeah, Mom. He's really great."

JUNE 19th

It's been two weeks and I can barely stand to be in the same house anymore.

I try to keep myself busy by going outside, to the beach or for long walks in the park; but it's too hot for my liking, and our town is so small that unless I want to spend my time in the grocery store or one of the three bars on Main Street...

I'm stuck either outside where it's hot and uncomfortable, or in the house where it's also hot and uncomfortable.

We have air conditioning, of course, but that's not the problem.

It's Spencer.

I thought by now my little crush on him would have gone, but the longer he hangs around the house, the stronger my feelings for him grow. They're not romantic—nor do I think they ever could be given the fact that if anything serious really were to ever happen between us, my mom would disown me for the rest of my life and murder Spencer with her bare hands—but that doesn't make it any easier on me.

Every day he just exists, right in front of me with that tug-able mop of hair, those warm honey eyes, and his hands that never stop moving. I swear, it's like every time he breathes, his hands are breathing too, challenging me to try and stop them.

But I refuse to touch him. Because I know the moment I do, all will be lost. I won't be able to control myself anymore. And if I don't drop to my knees and try sucking his dick at the dinner table, I'm sure I'll blurt out how I can't handle it anymore and that I need him, and either way I'd be royally fucked.

Right now he's in the dining room, teaching my mom how to do a disappearing card trick. She thinks it's utterly charming that he can do it at all, but mostly that he's patient and willing enough to teach her. And normally I'd agree, but I can barely look at them without wanting to waltz over, grab his wrist, and suck his fingers into my mouth.

It's truly pathetic.

So I try to focus on the television just a few feet away. It's one of those rare instances where I wish our house was bigger, because while I don't mind having less wall-space between rooms, I do mind not being able to watch TV without the kitchen table in my periphery at a time like this. And I think about going up to my bedroom instead for a moment, but I'd have to go past the kitchen, and I just know Mom is going to ask if I'd want Spencer to teach me his magic trick.

And I most definitely do not want that.

In another life, maybe, where he isn't a hot professor and rather an average-looking dude who's way too into fantasy football... But not in this lifetime.

So there I sit, concentrating so hard on Family Feud that my face hurts.

When I hear a flutter of cards and joyous giggling from the other room, it's more than my face that hurts.

It's also my chest, churning and tensing at the hands of the green devil.

Fuck!

I barely even know this man... I haven't really talked to him because I'm afraid that if I try to hold a conversation I'll snap. He's literally just some hot older guy who's dating my mom, and still, my whole body twists and aches with envy when they do anything together, and it fucking sucks. Not only because of the jealousy, but it's also the fact that my mom deserves to be happy.

This time it's different. This time, she's really found someone who returns her every loving gaze, who makes her laugh, who's kind and genuine and not a total douche. She's happier than I've seen her in years.

And the one time she finally finds "The One", every waking second of my life is spent longing for him fuck me.

But it's only been two weeks.

And it's also been nearly two years since I got laid, so maybe that's just my issue...

I figure it can't hurt, so in a spur of the moment decision, I turn the TV off and sprint towards the stairs, right past Mom and Spencer before they can ask questions.

———

I hardly even register the dimness of the light inside the house by the time I glide up the steps, fumbling with the key and trying to make my entrance as quiet as possible. Though, because I'm so used to the dark by this point, the light—no matter how dim—nearly blinds me. The door shuts louder than I'd have liked, and I cringe inwardly, pausing as if that will keep anyone from seeing or hearing me. Not like it'll matter, considering Mom and Spencer are the only ones that are staying here and they'd also been the only ones aware of my plans for the evening.

Well, somewhat, anyway. I told them an old friend invited me out and I probably wouldn't be home until late.

Regardless, that instinct of trying not to get caught coming in late at night is stronger than common sense. Throw a little cheap beer and some shots into the mix, and it almost feels like I'm a teenager again.

The only thing different now is that I have a pool of some stranger's cum soaking my underwear and a man in front of me who stands like an angel. An exhausted, almost scruffy-looking angel more like, but my point still stands.

"You're up late," Spencer observes. It's a simple enough statement— not really judge-y, but I can tell that regardless of his knowledge of my coming home late, he seems shocked to see me coming through the front door right now.

And it's hard to look away from him. Just like it has been for the past two weeks. Still, I try, just barely avoiding his eyes as I cross my arms and fight the urge to clench my legs together. "I'm a whore. What's your excuse?"

Maybe not the best thing to say. But like I said, common sense? Gone.

"O—oh... Umm..." Spencer stumbles through his words, obviously stunned by my response, and the look in his eyes kind of makes me want to curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment. Still, I stand my ground and wait for him to continue.

He settles on a short, "I can't sleep," and then there's nothing else.

"Ah," I express. One syllable. I don't draw it out, I don't exaggerate it... This is the first real conversation I've had alone with him, and I've made it extremely awkward, so I sigh and take a few steps forward, trying to walk past him. "Okay. Goodnight."

I only make it a few steps before he stops me, his hand reaching out to tap my shoulder. "Wait—"

The touch makes me jump, and he pulls it away immediately as I turn to face him. My heart is racing at the speed of light, my panties are soaked through, and if I'm not careful that whole 'no common sense' thing is going to bite me so hard in the ass I won't have one left.

"Can I talk to you?" His voice is barely audible, and the gentle rasp it has to it seems to make me even more wet.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

"Look, I um... Your mom has been totally transparent with me about her relationships, so I know that she's been through a lot of them in a short amount of time... And I know that must be a little difficult for you. Especially now that I'm here... And you've been... distant. And I know that I don't know you that well, so forgive me if I'm assuming anything, but I just want you to know that I don't have any intention of making things difficult for you and your mother."

Too late, pal, I think bitterly, the gentle authority in his tone setting my insides alight. I'm positive that voice could get me to do so many things...

That's the alcohol and sex talking, Y/N, just shake it and move on...

He starts again, but I cut him off with a short wave of my hand. "Look, I... I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I had a really long night, and I'm exhausted. I just wanna shower and go to bed."

I expect more resistance, but Spencer only nods. I still can't bring myself to look him in the eye, though this time I catch his hands clenching at the bottom hem of his shirt. "I understand. Sleep well."

Without another word I turn on my heel and walk a little faster towards the stairs, and I'm about to take my first step when I realize he's followed me. His voice calls out my name softly from a few feet behind, and it stops me in my tracks regardless of my desire to get out of there as fast as I can. And then I turn around and finally look directly at his face.

Big mistake.

His eyes are on my legs again, trailing slowly upwards until he reaches my face. The light over here is dimmer, barely noticeable at all, though I swear I can see red forming on his cheeks.

"I like your dress," he says softly. It's almost meek, like he'd been afraid to say it but took a chance anyway.

It's such a random, small compliment, but with the alcohol and endorphins flowing through my body after the night I'd just had, it nearly makes me quiver.

It also makes me incredibly stupid.

An amused, almost sensual grin forms on my face as I make eye contact with him, and I feel myself throb at the way I can just barely see his throat move. He looks like a deer in headlights, afraid to make one sudden move.

"Turning to flattery to try and win me over, are we?" I say slowly.

I almost think he'll stumble over his words once more, but again he surprises me with a full answer. It's only three words but it's clear, and his voice is deep, and I want to fucking jump his bones right then and there.

"Is it working?"

This has to be the alcohol making me imagine things... I swear I didn't even drink that much tonight, but it has to be an obvious lapse in judgement. The drinking mixed with the sex mixed with the dirty thoughts I've been having about this man lately have to be what's making this feel real. It's all culminating into this one big fantasy (or delusion, more like), and all I need is to shower and sleep it off.

That has to be it.

So because there's no other reasonable explanation that my brain can conjure up, I take a chance and throw Spencer a wink before turning and sprinting up the stairs.

And it's that same seemingly undeniable reasoning for this illusion that doesn't keep my hands from wandering in the shower. Even though those warning sirens in my brain keep blaring, telling me that the common sense is still there for me to utilize, they're drowned out by my thrumming heartbeat and the repetition of Spencer's soothing, authoritative voice, guiding my movements.

Keep rubbing your clit for me, baby... Just like that, nice and slow...

Warm water cascades down the front of my body as I lean back into the wall of the shower, but that's not why I'm so warm. This heat radiates through my insides, spreading like wildfire and bringing out small whimpers and mewls that I know I'll have to contain in fear of waking my mom from her bedroom right next door.

But then the thought of her hearing me next door as I cry out her boyfriend's name only excites me more. I keep it quiet still, but just knowing that someone else is in the house while I'm having these thoughts right now (one of them being the object of said thoughts) is what finally brings me over the edge.

I finish my shower on weak legs, definitely overstimulated now, but also feeling even more tired. I know that the moment I lay down on my bed, I'll be pulled into the sweet, soft surrender of a deep sleep.

Nothing else has ever sounded so pleasant.

———

When I woke up that morning after, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Realistically I knew that my whole 'this has to be an illusion' montage had been less truth and more inebriated babble, and the longer I sat on it the more I thought it'd all turned out for the better.

Turns out, tipsily masturbating in the shower to thoughts of your mom's hot new boyfriend was a surefire way to get it out of your system, right?

Wrong.

It really had been okay at first. I thought about Spencer almost immediately, and yeah, he was still hot as fuck—But there wasn't this overwhelming desire within me to jump his bones when I saw him that morning, his hair messy and his hands clutching a cup of coffee while Mom made breakfast behind him.

But that good feeling I had about all of this? It lasts only about a split second.

Because the moment he looks up and sees me, the mug falls out of his hand and shatters to pieces. His eyes stay glued to me, even as my mother darts over to pick up the pieces of the ceramic that are scattered about the table and the floor. And when she turns back to grab a paper towel, he still stares at me, once again at my legs.

It takes me all of four seconds afterwards to remember that not only did I talk to him briefly last night, but I also flirted with him after he complimented me.

That whole part seemed to have slipped my mind when waking up, and now that his gaze is bringing me back to that moment, that 'this has to be an illusion' montage is starting to become larger than I'd remembered.

It isn't until he finally snaps out of it and starts to help my mom clean up the mess that I snap out of it, too, going back upstairs to clear my head and cool the heat radiating over my skin.

———

There's a knock at my bedroom door about an hour later, and it sounds different than my mom's usually quick two-knock succession. That means it's someone else, and unsurprisingly, my stomach tightens at the thought of seeing him again.

"Yeah?" I call out, turning in my desk chair and meeting Spencer's figure in the doorway. He's changed, a rather nice pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt clinging to his limbs.

"Can I come in?"

"Mhm," I say. I still don't know if I entirely trust myself to say anything more than a few words to him, and as he enters the room and sits on the foot of my bed, I wonder if he can tell.

He tries, really tries, to look me in the eye, but I know that it's hard. I've been in the same spot. And then he takes a deep breath before folding his hands in his lap.

"Y/N, I want to apologize... When we... talked last night... It was kind of weird, and then this morning wasn't really any better..." He can barely get out the words 'talk' and 'last night'... And then he avoids my gaze altogether, staring at the floor and trailing off, trying to put his thoughts together it seems.

And that's when it starts to click into place.

There's one thing that both last night and this morning have in common, and I've noticed it almost every time I've caught him staring at me. At my legs. It's happened almost daily since I've met him. And then, the night I come home clearly having just been fucked, waltzing past him, entertaining his fascination with my legs and then masturbating to thoughts of him in the shower, he finally starts dropping mugs.

He must also really feel something here. Something similar to my own feelings. And really, that should be a red flag, because he's my mom's boyfriend, and it's a goddamned fucking mess...

But fuck, it excites me.

I'm still wearing my pajama shorts, silky and lavender in color, and I use them to my advantage, slowly crossing one leg over the other and just barely gaining Spencer's attention back.

"Yeah, what was that, anyway?" I ask him, amusement dripping off my tongue.

I can tell from his reaction that he wasn't expecting me to ask. A few times he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it , stumbling before panicking. He's been pretty good so far at coming up with answers and explanations, so the fact that this time I finally seemed to have broken him down makes it all the more clear.

He must have heard me in the shower.

Right?

I'm almost completely positive that's what this is about. And there's one way for me to get the confirmation I'm looking for.

"So you heard me, huh?"

I try to keep my voice as plain as I can as not to give away my motives, and with my luck Spencer is so flustered that he probably wouldn't have even noticed it at all. He looks up at me, his eyes desperately trying to find something he can use to make up a lie, but in the end there's no use.

I've caught him. And he knows it.

"Yes," he whispers. He looks exhausted, guilty, and also a little like he wants to cross the barrier and kiss me.

Okay, maybe that part's just in my head. I really can't tell. But I do know that hearing me call his name out in the shower last night is what brought him to this point of severe distress. As much as that excites me, though, it also embarrasses me a little. Maybe if it hadn't happened we could have avoided further destruction.

It must read on my face, because Spencer perks a little. "Oh! Y/N, I'm not... I'm not mad or anything. I really didn't mean to overhear and invade your privacy... Really, I-I'm sorry."

The fact that he's apologizing to me right now, rather than acting all grossed out that I even did it in the first place, tells me he either feels guilty for not being able to help himself from hearing me, or he's just a good guy who loves my mom and doesn't want to ruin it because of a little mishap.

Either way, it's frustrating, because I don't know what to do.

Well, I know what I want to do, but I don't know if I should hint at it.

But then he does something. It's small, and no one would have noticed, but I've been fascinated with his hands since the moment I met him, so my eyes are instantly drawn there.

They're clenched so hard, his knuckles are nearly white.

He's nervous.

To ease his mind a bit, I hold off on poking the bear harder (though it's really tempting to see what will happen if I don't) and nod, trying to make myself look as apologetic and small as possible.

"It's okay... I... I won't make it awkward if you won't?"

His shoulders slump, and his body seems to relax. "Y–yeah. Yeah, deal."

He gets up off the bed and blurts one final apology before heading for the door, but that part of me that wants to poke the bear further makes me stand up and follow him.

"Spencer?" I call out.

He freezes and turns to face me, and I don't think he quite expected me to be as close as I am. I have to tilt my head up to look at him, and the angle gives me an added layer of this innocence I'm trying to achieve.

"I'm sorry, too..."

No the fuck I'm not.

Whether he can sense my lie or not, he doesn't show it. But I think he at least knows that I'm pitching my voice a little higher on purpose, and if that doesn't give it away, the way I'm staring at him sure should.

Still, he only nods and retreats.

All there's left to do is see what happens.

JUNE 25th

For someone who agreed not to make things awkward, Spencer sure can't keep his eyes off of me.

To be fair, I have tried to keep things fairly normal. I only really interacted with him if I had to, I kept my distance, and I saved my skimpier clothing for the strangers I was regularly going out to see almost every weekend.

My lustful feelings for him aren't as strong now that I've been getting some on a semi-regular basis and keeping myself occupied. I've been doing my part.

But I still can't shake him entirely.

Whenever he spends the night (which is surprisingly most nights), the occasional wet dream about him gets me frustrated when I know he's just down the hall and sleeping soundly next to my mom. On those days I try to cut as much interaction with him as I can, though it doesn't keep me from seeing the occasional stare he throws my way.

I wish I could say that I hate it.

But I don't, and it increasingly gets worse. It's only been a week, so there's still time, but honestly, I don't think there's any shaking him.

Today especially is one of those days where it's hard not to give into the incessant need to tease him and coax some stronger reaction out of him.

I talked to Mom earlier this morning about getting some new clothes, and she had this brilliant idea to have Spencer take me. "It would be a good chance for you two to bond a little, don't you think?" she insisted, nudging him in the side and silently pleading with her eyes for him to agree.

I could tell from the look on his face that he really wasn't ready to be alone with me again, but that only excited me.

"Yeah, I think that's a great idea," I piped up, positively beaming.

Mom was so excited for us to 'bond' and also that I was gladly inclined to go through with it that Spencer couldn't have said no to her even if he wanted to.

And I was pretty sure he didn't want to.

Yet here we are, sitting in the car, the air conditioning so strong it's blowing some of my hair into my eyes. I think it had been his way of punishing me for choosing today to wear a short skirt, something I usually refrain from nowadays unless I'm going out, and it makes me smile. I can't help it.

I also can't help the way my fingers play with my skirt, dying to tease him some more. I just want to see, to know for sure that I'm driving him mad.

"No offence, but you seem weird today... Is there something wrong?" I ask him, lifting my skirt just a smidge. The air from the car blows the fabric in waves.

"You're acting this way on purpose."

Well, I hadn't been expecting that answer... All this time he'd hardly been confrontative, and now he's full-on calling me out. It's plain to see that he's finally snapped, and I would have felt sorry about it if I didn't find it extremely sexy.

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N..."

My name on his lips is a warning. He's clearly annoyed, exasperated, and I'm loving every second. "Don't act oblivious. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. I don't want to make you hate me or anything, but you have to know where I'm coming from. I was willing to let the shower thing slide... And you said you were too, for that matter, so I don't know what's changed, but it has to stop now. Understood?"

Oh, all I want is to argue with him. I want to point out that none of this is really my fault because he's the one who hasn't been able to stop staring at me all summer so far. I want to tell him that if he wants this to stop he has to make it stop.

But that isn't going to give me any of the answers I'm looking for or further proof of my theory that he wants me just as badly as I want him. And I am not going to fuck this whole situation up by making a poorly-timed move on him.

I have to know for sure.

So, I fold my hands neatly in my lap, sigh, and look dead ahead. "Right... We said no awkwardness. I'm sorry."

Spencer seems to accept my apology and continues down the road.

When we make it to the mall I think he's calmed down. At least, he seems a little more comfortable around me, and honestly I'm okay with it. As much as his spiel in the car turned me on, it also exhausted me to the point of silence.

Even as we walk around each store in the mall, I just lead and he follows, not saying a word when I pick out a top or a pair of pants or whatever else I need. And when it comes time to pay, he takes the basket from me and pays for it with no question.

Near five bags of clothes later, I figure I could get used to this new dynamic.

But then we pass a lingerie store, and I remember that the main thing I'd needed was new underwear. I start to turn into the store, but stop suddenly, pausing awkwardly and deciding to go straight ahead instead.

"You don't want to go in?" Spencer asks.

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. I can just pick some up later, it's not a big deal."

He sighs then, nodding his head towards the sign. "If you need to go in, you can... I'll just wait out here if you're uncomfortable."

I really want to call him out, ask him if he's the one who should be worried about being uncomfortable. But so far this afternoon has been pretty decent, and I really don't want to make things any weirder than they have to be.

Besides... If my theory is right...

"Sure. Thanks. Uh, how am I gonna pay, though?"

"O—Oh... I'll uh... I'll just watch the counter and come in when you need me."

"Orrrr, you could just give it to me?"

This time I get a laugh out of him. "Not a chance. Go in, I'll wait."

I smile at him and hand him the bags to hold onto while I leave, and it fills me with absolute amusement that he'd just given me one more ounce of proof that I'm right.

He's gonna have to come inside and pay for what I bought. He could have just given me the card, and maybe he truly doesn't trust me with it (which I don't know why he wouldn't honestly), but he chose to come inside all the same.

I browse happily then, going through the displays and picking out things I need, but also things I know Spencer will like.

Specifically, I stumble on a pair of lavender panties, embroidered with flowery trim up top. The pattern from the outside is lace, but there's a thin layer of cotton underneath designed to be more comfortable to wear.

I've noticed that he can never seem to look away when I'm wearing anything, really, but it's more intense when I wear one of two things. Florals, and any type of purple. And these fit both of those bills perfectly.

Now there's just one more bill to take care of.

I stride over to the counter and turn around, finding that Spencer's caught my eye immediately. Either he truly had been paying attention to the counter the whole time, or he'd been watching through the glass, following me with his gaze to the best of his abilities. Either way, he blinks a few times and looks like he's gathering the courage to go in before actually taking any steps.

I laugh to myself, eager to gauge his reaction to this next step.

Surprisingly, he holds up well. The air between me, him, and the cashier is obviously awkward, but he doesn't say anything and barely looks at what she rings up. (I say barely because he tries extremely hard not to look at the purple pair I picked out, inadvertently adding another checkmark to my list of proof.) She tells him the total, he hands her the card, and within a minute, everything is in our possession and we're leaving the mall entirely.

I don't think there are any more steps to my plan today once we get in the car and I tell him thank you. (To which he responds a short and simple, Sure thing, and turns the radio on.)

But then there's a note taped to the front door, and it instantly gives me another one.

My Sweethearts,

I got called in on a work emergency and won't be back until 7. I would have called but I figured you were having a nice time and didn't want to interrupt! I'll bring home dinner, and then maybe you can tell me about how your day went. Can't wait to hear it!

XOXO,

Eve/Mom

I check my phone, seeing that it's almost 3.

Perfect.

But I don't want to give myself away too quickly, so I thank Spencer again for taking me out and tell him that I'm going upstairs to make sure everything fits right. He nods and lets me go, though not without lingering eyes. I can feel it.

The smile never leaves my face as I try all my clothes on. Once each article has been fitted, I throw it in a laundry basket and move to the next, until I get to the last piece.

The lavender panties.

As expected, they fit perfectly, and as I look at myself in the mirror I picture what Spencer would look like when he sees me wearing them.

That's right. When.

I throw back on my earlier outfit and grab the basket, acting as bored and normal as possible to find him sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.

"Hey," I greet him, setting the basket in front of me once I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Everything fits good, I just need them washed now. Could you run these down to the laundry room for me? I think I'm gonna make something to snack on before Mom brings dinner."

It doesn't surprise me to see him look at my legs before my face, even if it is brief. I want to smile, but I hold back, watching him nod with a tight smile of his own.

"Sure."

He disappears and then I wait.

One...

Two...

Three.

I sneak as quietly as I can to the laundry room once I hear the washer door open. I hadn't specifically asked him to put them in the washer for me on purpose, and it looks like now he's doing exactly what I thought he might.

My head peeks around the corner, barely in his range of sight as I watch him empty the basket. He takes one item of clothing at a time and throws it in the washer, and halfway through the basket he stops, just to place a pair of my new underwear on the dryer beside him.

My heart races faster the more I wait for him to get to the end of the basket. Once he does, he pauses again, and I think I know exactly what he's looking for.

Still, he sets the basket aside and picks up the stray pair of underwear, a simple black cotton pair that I'd been getting for years, and drapes it over his hands. My thighs instantly clench, and I try so hard to remain where I am so I can see where he takes this.

He takes it straight to hell, apparently, tentatively pulling his dick out of his pants and gripping it firmly. I can barely see since his back is partially turned, but I see enough, and god he's so fucking pretty. My underwear dangle from his left hand while the other works slowly over his erection, a soft sigh falling from his lips.

I fight to let one of my own slip as my hand sinks down the front of my body, past the lavender cotton and lace that I know he just wishes he had right now.

And then, a few seconds later he's already coming, using my brand new underwear to catch each rope of it, and the sight nearly has me on my knees.

And because I want to catch him in the act, I quickly draw my hand away from myself and step into the room, barely giving him time to recover.

"You come fast."

Spencer looks utterly devastated when he turns to see me standing in the entryway to the laundry room, arms crossed and an amused smirk adorning my face.

"Y/N... I—I... I'm so sorry, I didn't... I..."

"Don't worry about it," I say, taking a step towards him and shrugging. "You heard me, and now I heard you... We're even. Besides, I... figured you might be looking for these."

He's still stunned, but he looks down all the same, watching my hands slip under my skirt and glide the lavender panties down my legs. I step out of them and hold the garment up on one finger, a soft smile still on my face.

"I picked 'em out just for you, you know," I tell him, tossing them past his face and into the washer. "I've noticed that you like purple."

This time he's quick to respond. "Y/N, we... We can't... This isn't right."

"Says the man holding my underwear soaked in his cum..."

He looks panicked again, extremely guilty, but if this isn't going to end in a total disaster, then I have to reassure him that I'm okay.

"Spencer, I'm not mad..." I take another step forward, and it feels much like trying to approach a wounded animal. I can see in his eyes and in his posture that this conflict is killing him, so I decide to show some rapport. "And I know... I know this is messy... I love my mom... And I'm sure you care about her a lot... But are we really going to ignore this? We tried that, remember? And now look where we are."

"I..." He swallows, shaking his head and trying to avoid my eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you... I can't..."

My hand finds his arm, and the light touch has him sighing out, an incredulous, breathy laugh escaping him. "Y/N, please... Don't."

"Don't what?" I ask softly, praying he won't turn me away. If he does, we're just back to square one, only the square is jagged, sharper than ever before, and in serious danger of injuring someone.

When he meets my eyes, I see nothing but a desire for something he knows he can't have. "Don't want me."

Now it's my turn to laugh. My knees start to wobble as I go down, keeping my eyes locked onto his, and I swear I see them dilate fully. I scoot in closer, sliding my hand up his leg and finding the words in my heart to finally say out loud.

"It's too late for that..."

My face moves closer, and the hand of his that doesn't currently hold my underwear flies down to gently tug at my hair, keeping me in place.

"If you do this... God, Y/N, I won't be able to stop myself..."

A smirk dances over my lips as I lean in, breath fanning gently over his exposed skin. "Don't."

He swallows. "Don't what?"

"Don't stop yourself."

I barely get the words out before his hand is completely pulling me towards him, and the second my lips press against the silky skin of his hard cock, he loses it completely.

His fingers thread through my hair as I kiss and lick my way softly up to the tip. Once I'm there, I swirl my tongue out and taste the small beads of cum that had remained after he came, a low, satiated hum radiating through my body and making him shiver under my touch.

And then I wrap my lips fully around the head of his dick, and there's no stopping the most beautiful sound I've ever heard come out of his mouth. It's a broken, desperate whisper of my name. The crack in his voice when he says it spurs me forward, and I take him deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat.

That's when he tosses my underwear in the washer and uses both of his hands to grab my head, roughly guiding me along his cock and fully taking control of my actions.

The fire in my belly doesn't ease up, not even once he's decided that he can't take it anymore and pulls me off of him harshly.

And that's only because now he's fully turned over, finally given into these desires that have been plaguing him presumably from the moment we met.

"I want you stripped and in your bed, on your hands and knees within the next five minutes."

I get up off the floor and walk up to him until our bodies are flush, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

"What are you gonna do to me, Spencer?"

He searches my eyes, and his own grow dark with the purest form of sin I'd ever seen. And when his hands come up over the back of my legs, and under my skirt to grab my ass and pull me even closer to him, I can't help the little mewl that slips past my lips.

He smiles, and if it hadn't been for the grip he held on me, I would have fallen to my knees. "Little girl, when I'm through with you, you'll have to come up with some excuse to your mom about why you can't walk straight... Is that what you want?"

The mention of my mom should send me running in the opposite direction, but his threat only prolongs that fire in my veins and makes me want him even more.

I tilt my head up and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Do your worst..."

———

Turns out he was very true to his word.

Sitting at the kitchen table is somewhat of a relief, but I try not to walk around as much when Mom gets home. She'd asked me almost immediately if I was okay, and I told her I was just hungry and needed to eat something.

She seemed to have bought it, rushing to the kitchen to unpack the fast food she'd ordered for us. Over her shoulder, Spencer gave me a sly smile, and it took everything I had within myself not to crumble.

Through bites of food, I only half-listen to Mom telling us about the stuff she had to do at work because most of the words I'm hearing are in my head— A loop of endless dirty talk that plants deep into the soil of my stomach and spreads out through my whole body. It infects me, like the most beautiful poison, and I never want it to stop.

"Tell me, sweetheart, you ever let a man come inside you before?"

His weight on top of me coupled together with the heft of his voice has me whining out in pleasure, each snap forward of his hips over my ass as he pounds into me from behind the most delectable burn I've ever felt.

"Uh huh," I answer happily, twisting my head to feel his cheek against my own. "That night you heard me in the shower... I walked through the door with a stranger's cum soaking my panties... And you know what?"

He grumbles, his hips hitting into me harder as he waits for me to continue.

"I wished it was yours..."

My legs clench together under the table and I take a large gulp of water.

I feel something graze over my bare shin, and I already know it's Spencer's foot, a silent reassurance of his presence and that no matter what, he'll always be here.

"Here's what's going to happen..."

He has me on my back now, my legs hoisted over his shoulders and bent back so I'm nearly folded in half. His hips are flush against mine and I can feel his cock throbbing as he comes into the condom.

"You're gonna make an appointment to make sure you're clean... You're gonna make sure you're on good birth control... And then the next time I fuck this pretty little pussy, you're gonna really know what it feels like to have a man come inside you."

Right... Like I really need a reminder of his presence.

I can practically feel it still inside me, taking up every inch of space my body could provide. And no matter how long I go without seeing him, I have no doubt that it'll always remain.

"But that's enough about me, I'm sorry." Mom's voice shifts and breaks me out of my fantasy. "So, how did your day of bonding go? You have fun?"

Spencer and I share a look, a smile spreading over his lips that makes me smile in turn.

"Yeah, Mom," I say. "It was great."

He nods in kind. "Yeah... We'll definitely have to do it again."

His foot grazing over my leg under the table cements the unwavering smile on my face, as does the way my whole body burns at the memory of him fucking me upstairs only hours before.

I don't even flinch or get sick to my stomach when Mom reaches over and gives Spencer a kiss.

———

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titan-fodder · 4 years ago

Text

Prima Vista Part I

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.7k Warnings: dubious consent (because of alcohol), just copious amounts of sex, oral, squirting, 69ing, college shenanigans, obnoxious frat boys, terrible fashion choices A/N: At long last, here we have the beginning. Massive thanks to @pleasantanathema and @whats-her-quirk who have been cheering for me since I told them I wanted to right a “little college AU” for a “little collab” June and I have been planning for a while. Also, I don’t know where I’d be without Lauren’s fraternity knowledge, so extra thanks for that, babe. I hope everyone has as much fun with this fic as I did.

God, you hate frat boys.

Their sense of entitlement, all their fucking house pride. Brother this, brother that. It's annoying. Add in the factors of being an athlete on top of it, and they're downright insufferable.

So it makes absolutely no sense that you're at a fucking Pi Kappa Alpha party.

Your friend, Hitch, dragged you here (naturally), and it wasn't like you could really object considering she's the only real friend you have on campus. You study together and switch off between dorms to watch movies and bitch about classes. She's the complete opposite of you in many different ways, but you soul-bonded over biology and that was that.

Unfortunately, Hitch decided she would leave you to your own devices almost immediately, opting to skip over to a game of beer pong and flirt with a boy in her statistics class. You have no idea why considering he has a fucking bowl cut, but she's been talking about him for weeks now.

The party is filled with loud music and too many people with red solo cups. There's no way they're all of age, so you're already paranoid that the cops are gonna raid the place, but there's nothing you can do besides leave. It's a tempting thought.

Before you can, though, there's an uproar in the kitchen, and curiosity gets the best of you. Moving from your place against the wall, you make your way over to peek in and see what's going on. A large group of frat boys, what you think are sorority girls, and whoever else wants to join are raising their cups to cheer. An especially loud voice rings out above the rest, "One win down, eleven more to go!"

Claps and supportive shouts are nearly deafening.

"I think we can do it! Do you think we can do it?"

More cheers, more hollers.

"Let's hear it for UC lacrosse!"

You have to cover your ears this time. Should have known this party was to celebrate the win earlier that day.

When the crowd parts, you see the ringleader, Erwin Smith who is very well-known on campus for three reasons: he will talk your ear off about history if given the chance, he's irritatingly gorgeous, and he will fuck any pretty girl with a pulse.

Again—you fucking hate frat boys.

To ease your bad mood and possibly encourage you to have some semblance of a good time, you shuffle further into the kitchen to grab a drink. You feel a little exposed, not dressed like many of the other girls who are either in rompers or the classic sorority chick outfit (giant college shirts that cover their shorts). You are in a crop top, torn shorts, and a floral cardigan. Not your best outfit, not your worst.

There's no way you're touching any of the pre-poured cups or the jungle juice, opting for an unopened can of mediocre beer.

You feel someone approach you from behind, glance over your shoulder to see nothing but a broad chest covered by a fucking hawaiian shirt.

Craning your neck, you're met with another familiar face, one Mike Zacharias known as 1) Erwin's best friend, 2) one of the tallest guys on campus, and 3) the best lacrosse player on the team.

You haven't spoken a single word to him but that doesn't stop him from grinning at you, flipping shaggy hair from his face, and chanting a low, "Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun!"

"Are you god damn joking me?" You ask with a raised eyebrow.

"Hell no!"

"I have shotgunned a beer literally once in my life, and at least half of it ended up on my shirt."

"That's alright," Mike's smile shrinks to a smirk. "We're all about getting chicks wet in Pike."

Face falling, you scoff, "Yeah, okay, I'm leaving."

You sidestep him, cracking open the beer, but he follows close behind you. It makes a little bit of fear spike in your gut—everyone knows the horror stories that accompany many fraternities—but you're mostly just annoyed.

"Hey, what's your name again?"

Again. As if you've actually formally met before.

"Why do you care?"

Mike does not hesitate when he answers, "'Cause you look like you're having a shit time here, and I'd like to change that."

You roll your eyes, let your head loll over your shoulder to look at him again. If you're being honest with yourself, he's kind of extremely hot with his undercut and flippy hair, not to mention the stubble that's grown out just enough to make you think thoughts for a split second.

"A noble cause," you quip. "Truly."

He chuckles, watching too closely as you take a sip of your beer.

"So? Name?"

After too big of a swallow, you answer him, and light green eyes brighten a little.

"Oh, you're Hitch's friend, right?"

Of course that would be your only identifier on campus. Hitch is insanely pretty and very outgoing. It makes sense that people just know you as her tag-along.

It doesn't stop you from feeling slightly offended, though.

"Yeah, and you're Erwin's friend, right?"

"Among other things," he snorts. "Mike Zacharias." He holds out a massive hand that you eye before taking, figure you shouldn't be too much of a bitch and make a bad impression on the most highly regarded frat at the college.

"I know who you are, dude. Not many people don't."

"Aw, flatterer."

That grin is back on his face, lopsided and far too charming, and you definitely need to get away from him before you down a couple more beers.

"Freshman?" He pries, and somehow you wind up at the staircase, leaning against the wall and praying he'll just stand beside you instead of caging you in.

He does, and you let out a breath of relief.

"Sophomore."

His eyebrows shoot up for a second. "Fuck, you've made it through a whole year flying under my radar?"

You give him a wholly unimpressed look. "Wow, you really know what to say to a girl, don't you?"

"That came off as shitty, sorry. I just mean, like, you're super cute. Feel like I would have committed you to memory if I'd seen you."

Your face heats up probably more than it ever has in your life, but you still snap, "We haven't had a single class together, I never go to your games, and this is the first Pike party I've been to."

Mike nods. "Ah, that explains it. Just haven't given anyone a chance to notice you."

"Sure, let's go with that."

Another several sips. You hiss at the taste, and Mike laughs.

"Can't handle beer?"

"Can't handle shitty beer."

"Ouch. Want me to grab you something else?"

He really doesn't seem to understand the warnings all girls have heard over the years. That, or he just doesn't care. You don't know him well enough to pass that kind of judgement.

"Uh, no. I always make my own drinks at parties."

"That's understandable." Except it isn't. He doesn't have a clue.

"Well, you can go grab one, and I'll just finish this one for you. Don't want it to go to waste."

It's your turn to smirk now. "That desperate to swap spit, Zacharias?"

"Like this?" He laughs through his nose. "Nah. But I can think of other ways."

"We've been talking for literally two minutes."

"I'm perfectly capable of making decisions in two minutes."

"Not any good ones obviously."

Tilting his head, Mike thinks out loud, "Can't tell if that's an insult aimed at me or yourself."

"Take it however you want. I don't really care."

His eyes glint with amusement. There's no way you're escaping this any time soon.

Long, thick fingers close around the top of your can, and he gently tugs it out of your hand then keeps those eyes locked with yours as he takes a sip.

"Gross." You try to keep the teasing tone from your voice.

"Just go get another drink."

You actually listen, mostly to get away from him but also because you could go for something easier to stomach.

A game of King's Cup is going on in the kitchen, a five obviously being drawn because everyone suddenly pantomimes holding a steering wheel. It's surprisingly fun to watch, so you post up next to the counter after mixing orange and pineapple juice with rum.

"Four's whores!"

"Categories! Different beers!"

"Seven heaven!"

"Ayyy, waterfall!"

You shake your head as everyone drinks for way too long. Some people are already swaying in circles where they're sitting. Others are simply red-faced.

"Wanna play?"

"Jesus! You came outta nowhere."

Mike looks too smug for your liking, but doesn't say anything, just crushes the empty can in his hand and throws it into the trashcan next to the back door, all gooseneck and perfect arch.

"Let me guess—you're reigning champ at beer pong."

"Nah," he waves you off. "That's Erwin and Nile. King's Cup however…"

"King's Cup isn't even a competition. It's just flipping cards and getting fucked up."

"Well, yeah, but it's still fun."

You let out a heavy sigh, eyes still trained on the game going on, then concede, "Once this one is over, I'll play. Just to get you off my back." And because he won't have the chance to talk to you for the duration of the game.

"Excellent."

You manage to finish your drink by the time the round ends, have to rush to make another as Mike strides over to the table and steals the two seats that have been vacated. They're right across from each other. You don't know if you'd prefer that or just sitting next to him so he can't stare at you.

Sauntering over, you plop down and place your drink in front of you. The guy to your right is quick to introduce himself with hooded eyes and a self-assured smile. You give him basically the same treatment that you've been giving Mike, making him pout and turn away as a freckled girl deals out the cards.

It's fast paced, and you find yourself drinking more than you'd planned. Mike picks you as his buddy (of course), and the guy next to you makes everyone drink for nearly thirty seconds straight when he pulls an ace.

Still, you find yourself laughing as people scream and curse. You catch eyes with Mike often, and as you finish your second drink, he begins looking very attractive. More attractive than before. So attractive that you allow him to pour your third cup.

"If you roofied this, I'm gonna be real upset with you," you tell him just before taking a sip. He added more rum than you did, but that doesn't surprise you.

"Hey, one of Pike's virtues is being a gentleman."

As soon as he says it, about seven people around the table shout, "Pi Kappa Alpha!" like some kind of sports team, and you roll your eyes so hard it hurts.

You're drunk after this game. And, then you make another drink and get plastered. Meandering around the rest of the party, bodies begin to blur together, the music fades in and out, and you barely know what you're saying to Mike anymore as he follows you close behind in the same state. For every drink you've had, he's had two, and now he's walking around with a cup full of jungle juice nodding at his brothers, smiling at all the girls who look at him.

His room is downstairs unlike most of the others, right at the end of the hallway. It makes it far too easy to end up inside, but as soon as the door closes and his huge hands find your hips, your world disappears entirely.

The first thing you feel when you wake up is a nauseating pounding in your head. The second is a very large body behind you.

God dammit, you think, trying to recall the events of the night before.

Pi Kappa Alpha. Hitch left you, so you hung out with… Mike Zacharias? From the lacrosse team?

Frowning, you try to look over your shoulder, but all you can really see is a head of hair. However, you can feel the coarseness of his beard against your bare shoulder, and that's enough to solidify that it is indeed Mike behind you.

Shifting some brings more of your physical state to your attention—your naked chest under the blanket, the way your legs are pressed together, your pussy between your thighs… swollen? Jesus, what did he do to you last night? You can also feel something dry and crusty on your stomach which is both disgusting and relieving. At least he had enough sense to pull out.

Luckily, his arm isn't wrapped around you which makes it much easier to sit up on your elbow. It takes you a while to locate your clothes around the room from where you are, and even then, all you can find are your shorts, shoes, and bra. You peer around, trying not to groan at the headache threatening to make you black the fuck out all over again, but that pounding as well as the nauseating churning of your stomach is making it difficult.

You slide out of the bed, basically crawling to the little pile of discarded clothes. As you fumble with fastening your bra, you glance around one more time in search of your shirt and cardigan, but it’s no use. What you do see, however, is the obnoxious Hawaiian shirt Mike had been wearing the night before, and well… You’d rather not leave the Pike house topless, so…

Snatching it off the floor, you slip your arms through the giant sleeves and somehow manage to button up about half of it. Then, you’re flying out the door, desperate to be in your own dorm, curled over your own toilet, in your own clothes.

Oh, thank god his room wasn’t upstairs, you praise, trying to remember the way to the front door. There are numerous bodies and tipped over cups to navigate through, and you cringe at the various odors that assault your senses.

You see the door from across the room, so close and getting closer as you try not to trip over anything, but as you pass the kitchen, you hear a smooth, familiar voice greet, “Good morning,” in a smug way.

Erwin is leaning against a counter, smirking over a steaming cup of coffee. He’s wearing only sweatpants, his hair is a little mussed, and for a split second, you understand why he pulls so many girls.

Still, you roll your eyes and continue moving—a classic DNE situation, but the frat boy doesn’t seem to get the message, instead calling out, “Nice shirt!”

“Fuck off, Smith,” is the only thing you utter before leaving, slamming the door behind you.

Mike easily catches the frisbee that spins directly at his face then quickly throws it back to try and catch Nile off guard. It works, and the brunet curses and has to go running after the flying disc.

A few girls watching from the nearby fountain clap and yell his name, wriggling fingers in a wave as if he can actually see that far away. Mike gives one wave of his own hand then turns back to the grass where Nile is jogging back to his place.

“You did that on purpose, you asshole!” He spits.

Mike shrugs his shoulders, yells back, “Get better at frisbee, and you won’t have this problem!”

Nile throws the plastic so hard that it flies off toward the fountain, making all those girls scream and dive for cover.

“Yeah, I’m not getting that,” Mike shakes his head. Nile drags his fingers down his angular face before setting off on yet another trek, apologizing profusely then standing around to flirt like usual.

Blowing hair out of his face, Mike considers joining his brother, but before he can, he sees a familiar figure turning on the sidewalk, about to pass the fountain and head toward Hartley Hall.

His feet are moving before he really registers it, glad his long legs can carry him quickly even at a walk. Mike calls out when he’s a couple yards away, and you turn to him, eyes growing wide before you start to move faster.

He can just barely make out the words, “Nope. Not doing this,” and chuckles, catching up the rest of the way.

“Hey, chill, I just wanna talk.”

You turn to look at him, head tilted up, squinting against the sun, and Mike has never been more thankful for his height because you look so god damn cute all small and irritated with him.

“What is there to talk about? I don’t even remember anything.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, lacing fingers together behind his head. “Shame.”

“Whatever.”

Mike tries and fails to hide a snort, nods at Nile as you both pass him and the gaggle of girls surrounding him. Mike has no doubt his friend will get at least one phone number out of it, if not all of them.

“Did you at least have a good time before you blacked out?” He ventures.

You shrug your shoulders, hitch your backpack up a little higher. “Maybe. But, if I was just around you the whole time, probably not.”

“Aw, come on! What did I ever do to you?”

“You need a list?”

Mike nods. “Would probably help.”

“For brevity's sake, I’ll just say that you started the night trying to get a literal stranger to shotgun a beer and ended the night fucking said stranger and… Not holding back, apparently.” Mike frowns, about to ask what you mean by that, but you elaborate before he can. Voice dropping, you question, “Do you have any idea how fucking sore I’ve been for the last few days? What the fuck do you even have hidden in those stupid shorts?”

“I’d be happy to show you again.” He grins sideways, and when you shoot him a venomous look, he figures it’s time to change the subject. “Anyway, I may have done that and more, but you’re the thief.”

“Excuse me?”

Mike tries to sound nonchalant as he accuses, “Stole my shirt and everything." Honestly, he's a little upset that he didn’t actually get to see you wearing it.

“I—”

“That’s my favorite shirt, you know?”

You laugh. Finally. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“That shirt is fucking heinous, okay? You’re lucky I didn’t burn it.”

“Does that mean I can have it back?”

You make a little noise in your throat, something between a grumble and a growl, but you check your phone and tell him, “Fine. My next class isn’t for another couple of hours, so just…Follow me.”

It takes immense effort to not skip to your dorm like a little kid, but Mike is excited. He’s not gonna try anything weird, but just seeing your space? He’ll be able to get a better feel for you. So far, all he knows is that you live and breathe sarcasm and can’t handle your liquor well. It’s enough to get him a little more than interested, but it’s not enough to go off of.

The two of you gain a few looks as you make your way through the shared study space of the dormitory, heads turning, eyebrows raising in recognition. No one should be all that surprised; it’s not like Mike and Erwin haven’t frequented a lot of these rooms.

You lead him down a hallway, and Mike looks at all the little dry-erase intro boards hanging outside of every door. He’s a little surprised to see that the one by yours isn’t blank. Your name is written in bubble letters, surrounded by little hearts, and when you catch him looking at it, you’re quick to tell him, “Hitch.”

“Ah. Of course.”

He follows you inside, staying by the door to not invade too much of your space, but he doesn’t even try to be subtle as he looks around the small room. Pennant for the college hung up over a cork bulletin board that’s a mess of photos and sticky notes. Cluttered desk with just enough of it cleared to fit a laptop. Tiny succulents on the window sill. Double bed covered in a quilt. And there, in the open closet, Mike catches sight of his shirt—pastel pink and littered with palm trees.

After dropping your backpack on your bed, you step over to the hanging clothes and grab it, muttering, “Ridiculous,” as you hand it over.

Mike laughs as he slings it over his shoulder. “You know what’ll make you hate it even more?” You quirk an eyebrow, probably doubting that anything could, but your entire face falls when he informs you, “I have matching shorts to go with it.”

“No you do not.”

“Definitely do.”

“That should be a crime. You should be arrested.”

He chuckles, has a retort on the tip of his tongue, but something catches his eye—a bookshelf tucked away in the corner by your bed overflowing with novels and knick-knacks. Mike sees a particularly thick paperback, recognizing the black background and small desert picture on the spine.

“Bro!” He walks over, plants a hand in the middle of your mattress, and reaches for it. “Is this fucking Dune?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“This is, like, my favorite book, dude.”

“Seriously?” You sound just as disbelieving as you do disinterested.

Mike begins flipping through it, scanning over highlighted passages as he nods. “I have the whole series back home, but I only brought this one and Messiah with me to college.”

He straightens up but keeps a knee on the edge of the bed, and you plop down to sit on it, watching him closely as he continues to look over the notes scribbled in the margins.

“I had to read it in high school," you tell him. "Then my cousin gave me a lot of the books after I talked with him about it one time. I haven’t gotten around to reading them, though.”

“You really should,” Mike urges. “I mean, I know you probably have a shit ton of reading for classes, but if you ever get the chance, you should at least read the next two.”

“You some kind of closet nerd, Zacharias?”

“Kinda,” he admits, putting the book back on the shelf only to grab a worn copy of Fellowship of the Ring. “I mean, Erwin and a few others are well aware, but I don’t really broadcast it.”

“Not good for the cool guy image?”

“Nah, people are just more interested in other things,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on the tiny print.

“Mike Zacharias,” his gaze flicks to you as you laugh quietly. “Lacrosse god and big fucking geek.”

He closes the book and uses it to lightly hit you on the top of the head with it. You half-heartedly smack him right in his abs only to push against the muscle harder and ask, “Jesus Christ, what do you have under there?”

“You know, that’s the second time you’ve asked what I have under my clothes,” he points out, a little too satisfied. “Better watch out, or I’m gonna start getting ideas.”

You huff, but your hand is definitely still on his stomach, unmoving but warm through his shirt. Mike told himself he wouldn’t do anything weird once he got here, but you’re already on the bed and touching him, and he’d kind of really like to have this particular experience while sober, so he very slowly takes your wrist and moves it away.

It makes you look up at him, a question dancing in your eyes as your lips part. Mike makes sure his own stare conveys everything he’s thinking, wishes he could just transplant his thoughts into your brain so that he can put you a little more at ease around him.

You’re onto him, though, tugging your hand from his grip and blinking a few times. He figures you’re about to point to the door and tell him to take his fucking Hawaiian shirt and leave.

Instead, you pull on the fabric covering his ribs so that he loses his balance and has to catch himself before crashing into you. It puts his face level with yours, and you take the opportunity to kiss him—hard, desperate, and a little confused judging by the way you’re frowning.

Mike grunts, holding himself up with the arm on the side of your hips then uses the other to slide under the thigh closest to him and pull you further onto the bed. He’s straddling you in no time, up on his knees so that he doesn’t crush you.

Hearing the sound of shoes hitting the ground, he tugs his shirt off over his head, and then he’s curling over you again. Your mouths grow slick with spit. He slides his tongue past your lips, and you arch into him, fingers tangling in his hair. Mike pushes you back down so that he can strip you down to your bra and panties then takes the time to rid himself of his shoes and shorts.

“Oh, fuck,” he hears you breathe, and when he glances up at you, he finds you staring at what he knows is an intimidatingly large bulge under his boxer briefs. “It makes sense now—the soreness.”

Mike chuckles, slots his forearms on either side of your head and mutters, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

You lick his lips and he bites yours, bodies clashing together as he grinds himself against your covered pussy. Eventually Mike is able to snake a hand down your body, making sure to brush over your ribs so that you squirm beneath him. Fuck, he already loves the way you squirm. And, when he moves your panties to the side and teases your little hole, already wet just from making out, Mike discovers that he loves the way you moan too.

He’s slow as he pushes a finger in, groaning when you clench around it. Pumping it in and out, he gently works you open and wonders if he was courteous enough to do this the other night. He hopes he was.

You spread your legs for him, start bucking into his hand, especially when he hits that special spot inside you.

“Fuck, fuck, fu—” You grab his face, bringing it close to yours again so that you can muffle curses against his lips.

When Mike adds a second finger, your jaw drops, and you start to tremble.

“Too much?” He asks.

You shake your head, stutter a breathy, “N-no. Just—ah—slow. Go slow.”

He moves to suck on your neck, promising, “I will.”

Mike waits until you’re dripping into his palm and spread about as widely as you can be underneath him. Then, and only then does he shimmy out of his underwear and question, “Condom?”

“Bookshelf,” you huff. “In the jewelry box.”

When he opens it, a little ballerina spins, and Mike has to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “That’s twisted.”

“Shut up.”

He grabs one of the gold packages and tears it open, then rolls the latex over his cock and discards the wrapper somewhere.

Mike only gives you his tip first, sits right inside your entrance so that you can squeeze him and get used to the feeling before he pushes in any more. You barely shift your hips back and forth, like an experiment. It’s just enough for Mike to see slick coating the end of the condom, and he nearly starts drooling.

He presses in a little more, appreciates the way your eyes roll into the back of your head, then adds one more inch.

“Jesus Christ.” Your breaths are coming in short gasps, words slurring together. He’s not even halfway in, and you’re already fucked out.

Your cunt is spasming around him, and Mike tries to get you to relax more by lightly rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb.

You leak around him, pussy slowly but surely opening up a little more so that he can slide in further. He gives a few shallow thrusts that make you whine, then reaches up to grab one of your pillows which only sends him deeper.

“God dam—”

Mike lifts you and shoves the pillow under your hips, smiles in a way he’s pretty sure you hate, then jokes, “Better to fuck you with, my dear.”

“In...sufferable…” The annoyed tone is lost when you cry out. Mike buries himself as far as he can without hurting you. He isn’t quite balls deep, but you feel so fucking good that he doesn’t even mind.

Starting a steady rhythm that has every upthrust dragging over your g-spot, Mike watches through foggy eyes as your mouth opens and closes, chest rising with stuttering breaths before you exhale and moan. He dips his thumb between your folds to gather a little bit of slick and return it to your clit. The circular motion makes you arch again, and Mike abandons the little bud for just a moment so that he can unclasp your bra and pull it off. The sight of your tits bouncing in time with his thrusts almost does him in, but he holds back, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to gather himself.

You’re just clamping around him so perfectly, pussy drooling and creaming on his cock, and Mike is not a quickshot, but for you—

He pulls out all at once, flips you so that you’re on hands and knees, then spreads you open to lick into you from behind.

“Holy—”

Mike’s cock is throbbing where it bobs against his stomach, but he can ignore it for the most part, focused on eating you out, sucking at your messy lips then dragging the flat of his tongue over your hole. He moves his face back and forth, wants to leave his mark on you in the form of stubble burn between your legs.

“Mike, Mike, fuck, please.”

He’s positive you can’t actually hear him when he teases, “Please what?” right into the crevice of your ass.

You growl, push against him, and swallow enough pride to beg, “Please fuck me.”

Biting his lip, Mike straightens up enough to watch his fingers disappear into your pussy. One, two, then a third that makes your messy entrance stretch for him. He lowers his face again, feather light licks around your sensitive hole, and when he twists his wrist so that he can tap on your spot, you come immediately.

A mixture of slick and squirt drips from your cunt and soaks into your quilt. Mike pushes more out as he continues to finger fuck you, humming at the way your arms give out and you fall against the mattress.

This is the perfect position for him. He replaces his wet fingers with his cock and ruts into you quickly, chasing after his own impending orgasm. Pretty little whimpers fall from your lips, fuck drunk as you babble, “Oh, god, Mike, Mike, fuck…”

He’s gripping your hips too tightly, pulling you back against him, shoving his cock deeper and deeper until he finally comes with a shudder and a low groan.

Mike pants for a few seconds, then leans down to press a few kisses to your spine, but instead of the usual happy sighs he gets from most girls, you just roll your shoulders and mutter, “Stop that.”

He does, then pulls out, takes a second to stare at your pussy—worked open from his size and still dripping. It would make a very pretty picture, but Mike wouldn’t dare try that with you.

You roll onto your back, a huff of air leaving your lungs as you scrub a hand over your face then tilt your head to him. It looks like you have something to say, but you just chew on your bottom lip, eyes moving from Mike to the door.

And, he can take a hint. You don’t have to say it.

With a self-deprecating snort, he pulls the condom off, tying it then tossing it into the trashcan by your bed.

“Yeah, okay,” he nods. “Let me just…” Mike tugs his clothes back on, kindly tosses you your top so that you can cover yourself like you obviously want to.

He makes sure to grab the Hawaiian shirt that brought him here in the first place, tossing it over his shoulder then striding to the door.

Chancing one more glance at you, you force a smile and try to pad his bruised ego. “Don’t worry, it was good. You were good. It’s just not gonna happen again.”

Mike fights a smirk, raises a hand in a wave, then steps out.

Not gonna happen again, he chuckles to himself. Yeah, right.

You don't understand how this keeps happening, how you keep ending up in bed with Mike fucking Zacharias.

This time you had gone to the disgusting bar right off campus, got one whole drink in your system before the familiar trio walked in. They were all in khakis and pastels—Erwin in blue, Nile in yellow, Mike in pink. Again.

You actually slammed your head down on the bartop because despite how basic he looked in his light polo, Mike was still hot.

Is still hot.

Back at the Pi Kappa Alpha house, you're a mess of limbs on his bed. You take immense pleasure in tugging his shirt off, and once his arms are free again, he's lifting the hem of your little skirt and mouthing over your thong.

You're more than tipsy after a couple more drinks but nowhere near as drunk as you were the first night. It hadn't taken much convincing from Erwin for you and Hitch to play pool with them, and when Mike had come up behind you to help you line up your shot, you knew you were a goner.

While he's busy between your legs, you take off your shirt and bra. Green eyes flick up as soon as you toss both articles on to the floor, and without any hesitation, Mike reaches up to grope your tits.

He's clumsy and distracted as he tongues over the warmth pooling in your underwear, squeezing plump flesh and pinching your nipple so that you whine and push your hips further into his face.

Mike groans, just as drunk if not more so. He's messy as he kisses your thighs, nearly rips your thong when he pulls it off of you.

His tongue feels good, too fucking good as he laves over your entrance, soothing an ache that isn't quite there anymore but definitely was a few days ago.

"Taste so fucking good," he grumbles, slurping and sucking and making you squeeze your thighs around his head.

"Okay," you pant. "Okay, okay." You grab him by the hair and lift his head from you, stomach flipping at the sight of the bottom half of his face absolutely covered in slick.

God dammit, why is he so sexy?

Your mouth waters, and the thought of possibly giving him head this time crosses your mind. You're just inebriated enough to stay relaxed, didn't drink to the point of throwing up, and he has gone down on you the last two times so...

Lizard brain taking over, you sit up, tell him to flip over, then start making your way down his body.

Mike grabs you before you can turn to face him, fingers digging into your thighs and pulling you down to sit on his face.

"Fucking—I'm trying to blow you, for Christ's sake."

He moves his head just enough to tell you, "So? You can do that while I do this."

And, he's not wrong. It just means that you're gonna get distracted.

For a while, all you can really do is control your breathing and undulate on top of him, but eventually you fall to your elbows and lick up his shaft from base to tip.

Mike really does have a nice cock—a beautiful cock—bigger than you've ever taken in terms of both length and girth, and veiny in the perfect way. Even his balls make your pussy throb, large and round, the right just slightly bigger than the left and now dripping with saliva as you lower your mouth further and further onto his cock.

The feeling of his tongue buried in your cunt is making you delirious, eyes rolling, muscles going slack as you gurgle around the tip hitting the back of your throat.

Mike groans into you, his legs starting to shake, and you assume in your half aware state that he's trying to not just skull fuck you into oblivion.

You know you're making a mess, both on his face and on his cock. The fingertips that have been holding you open shift, one of them slipping into your clenching hole, and your hips begin to move on their own volition, riding what he'll give you while moving your tongue back and forth.

You've only taken about half of him, doubt you can take any more. He's hot and heavy in your mouth, and when you pull off to breathe, you can taste pre cum on the back of your tongue.

It triggers something in you, makes you raise up and clumsily turn around so that you can work him inside of you.

Mike groans a long, "Fuuuck," and immediately starts thrusting upward.

You're lucky you're as wet as you are, but the burn that comes with getting so stretched out still makes you hiss. You brace yourself on his broad chest, feeling the dampness of sweat forming a sheen on him, and your own body starts to feel too hot.

You had wanted to ride him to feel in control of the situation for once, but you quickly realize it's not gonna happen, Mike gripping your hips and moving you how he sees fit.

He's raw this time, a thought that should scare you, but he feels so good even through the discomfort. Every vein and ridge hits all the sweet spots inside of you, the flared head of his cock smooth as it presses just where you need it to.

You're squirting again—he just seems to be able to fuck it out of you. It's not the high you're looking for, but the release in pressure still feels divine.

Mike seems to enjoy it too because he looks down at where you're connected, swears at the way you gush on his cock, then starts swiping fingers over your clit so quickly it almost hurts.

More fluid leaks from you, and Mike breathes a low, "Come on, baby, come on, 'm gonna fuck you dry tonight."

Hearing him talk like that—his hand rubbing over your overstimulated clit, his thick cock threatening to split you in two—causes heat to travel up your legs and down your arms until it settles in your stomach and floods you.

You cry out, stars and tears behind your eyes as Mike keeps going, taking everything he can from you until he's laying in a huge wet spot in his bed.

He lifts you just in time to shoot cum upward on your chest, white splattering then dripping down in strands to pool on his stomach.

You stare down at him, mouth hanging open and find him looking up at you with the same expression.

It's hands down the best sex you've ever had, but you're not about to tell him that. Instead, you dismount him like the fucking horse he is and stand on weak legs, actually have to lean on the bed for support.

"Just stay the night." His voice is deep and full of gravel. It's entirely too hot.

"Absolutely not." You shake your head, grab your shirt and his boxers then ask, "Where's the nearest bathroom?"

"Down the hall on the right, but you don't have to sneak out the window or anything. Just use the front door if you're tryin’ to run away."

You can't help but snort. Stupid. "I'm not trying to escape, dummy. I just need to pee."

"Oh. Right."

You slip out of the room, hoping it's late enough for everyone to be asleep, but you have no such luck as the door to the bathroom opens and fucking Erwin steps out.

He hums, looking you over for a moment as his lips lift on one side.

"Don't say anything," you grit through your teeth.

He holds his hands up in surrender, chuckles, acting all innocent. "Wasn't going to."

You squint, not believing him for a second, then move around him to get to the bathroom. Before you can shut the door, you hear him mutter, "Another one bites the dust," and consider running out and strangling him.

"Please please please come with me to this game," Hitch begs, her hands clasped together, imploring eyes wide and doe-like.

"No. You have plenty of other friends to go with. You don't need me there."

"But, I want you to be there. It's gonna be such a good match. Rival schools and all that."

You roll your eyes. "Hitch, in all the time you've known me, have you ever seen me give a single fuck about sports?"

"No, but you'll finally get to see Mike and Erwin and Nile play."

"All the more reason not to go."

"Do you not like them or something? Why wouldn't you like them? Everybody likes them!"

She doesn't know, and you don't want her to. She had been too caught up with that Marlowe kid at the party, then was kept busy playing pool with Nile to see you and Mike slip out of the bar together.

It's the only secret you've ever wanted to keep from her. You will take it to the grave.

"I just… I just don't, okay? I get a… Sleazy vibe from all of them."

You really don't. Not exactly. You're not a big fan of the 'fuck-every-chick-on-capus' mentality, but most college boys think like that. Only difference is these three can actually achieve it.

Hitch crosses her arms over her chest and gives you a look you've seen on your mother's face many times, usually when she has a point to prove.

"You know I'm just gonna keep bothering you until you come to one, so why not just get it outta the way?"

And, there's that point.

"Ugh." You know she's right, and you really can't put up with this all semester. "Fine, but I'm gonna bitch the entire time."

Hitch squeals and claps, bouncing where she stands. "Yes! Wouldn't have it any other way."

You dress in school colors, put your hair up so that it won't be on your neck as the sun beats down, then take Hitch's little hatchback to the field. You try to talk her into sitting toward the back of the crowd that's gathered on the bleachers, but she just pulls you to the front without acknowledging your request.

Even with the helmets, you can easily make out who's who, mostly because of their size. Mike and Erwin are doing some kind of pregame ritual where they hit their sticks together, shout something, and chest bump. It's the most alpha thing you've ever fucking seen and makes you question why you ever thought screwing one of them was a good idea.

To be fair, you never really did think it was a good idea. It just kind of happened. Three times.

But, it needs to stop.

You repeat that thought to yourself as you watch Mike sprint across the field and launch the ball into the goal several times. You repeat it as he dances around his opponents with ease, quick footwork until he can throw them off. You repeat it as he stands on the sidelines and takes his helmet off to shake out sweaty hair and squirt water into his mouth.

And, none of it really helps. Mike is pretty incredible on the field, especially with Erwin and Nile backing him up. Everyone in the stands is screaming, yelling their names and chanting. It's a little contagious, you have to admit. You get as far as clapping but refuse to actually cheer.

At some point, Erwin jogs over to the bleachers and waves his arms for everyone to get louder, and they sure do. Even through his helmet, you can see his sparkling white smile, and your own lips curl up as you shake your head at him. Unbelievable. He has all these people at his beck and call.

Erwin has to get back on the field, though, fueled by the crowd like the other nine players. They end up pulling ahead of the other team and finishing the game eleven to seven.

Naturally, Erwin announces a party at the Pike house, and naturally, Hitch drags you to it.

This one is even bigger than the last. It offends every one of your senses—too loud, alcohol permeating the air, bad drinks, worse dancing, and strangers rubbing against you as you pass them.

You give up on your beer before you’re even halfway through with it, just set the can on one of the counters and start milling around. You’d rather be anywhere else but here. Your head hurts from the game earlier, baking in the sun and not drinking enough water. Should’ve taken an Advil… And some Benadryl. Hitch wouldn’t have been able to bring you here if you’d been unconscious.

All of the lacrosse team is there, flanked with guys who won’t stop slapping them on their backs and girls who won’t stop batting their eyes and squeezing their biceps. It’s comical, really, the fairweather trend. There’s no way this would be happening if they’d lost their last three games. Instead, the team would be getting harassed and pestered, not so subtle comments about practicing more and replacing members. You’ve seen it all before.

Leaning against a wall, you watch it all unfold. It’s probably the most entertaining thing at the party other than the group of sorority girls dancing on a table. Things are getting out of hand already, and you would prefer not be here for the aftermath, but just as you're about to leave, Mike breaks away from the group and strides over to you.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you.” He takes a sip from his cup, smiling around the rim.

You use your usual excuse: “Hitch,” and he nods.

“Right. Did you watch the game today?”

Crossing your arms, you mumble a, “Yes,” that Mike can’t hear but can definitely see.

He beams then asks, “You gonna tell me I played well? ‘Cause I did.” He’s all cocksure and giddy, and it makes your body run hot in a few different ways.

“I don’t think you need anyone else fawning over you,” you say with a condescending laugh.

“You mean you don’t want me to flex for you?”

“I’m leaving. Right now." When you push past him a little too roughly, it causes him to drop his cup, and your shirt is suddenly plastered to your chest and stomach. The white isn’t discolored, which leads you to believe, “Fuck, is this just straight vodka?”

“No, Christ,” he cringes at your wet state, looking genuinely apologetic. “It’s just water. Sorry.”

You scrunch your top up to wring it out, wondering what he’s doing drinking water instead of liquor, but you’re not about to pick on him for staying hydrated.

“It’s fine. I was about to leave anyway.”

He’s quick to stop you with a, “No, don’t. Just… change into one of my shirts or something."

Narrowing your eyes, you contemplate how many ways this can go wrong, how much you should not allow this, and even go as far as accusing, "You're just trying to get me in your room again."

"You wanna stay in a wet shirt?" Not really. "Come on."

He jerks his head toward the hallway, and you end up following him, grumbling the whole time because you swear to God if you end up on your back for him again, you're going to be very upset with yourself.

Mike beelines it for his dresser as soon as you're in the room, much quieter than the rager outside. He digs around in it, flipping all the way to the bottom then pulls out a heather gray tee.

"It'll probably still be a little big, but it's from high school, so you shouldn't drown in it."

He tosses it to you then, to your surprise, turns back to the wall to give you the privacy to change. You eye him the whole time, peeling off your top as well as your bra since it soaked through. His shirt still covers your little shorts, and you assume you look a lot like one of those sorority girls, but it's good enough, has that super soft feeling from being worn too much.

"Thanks. You can, uh… You can turn around now."

Mike looks over his shoulder, like he's making sure you're decent, then turns around fully.

"I was trying to get outta there anyway. Spilling a drink on you was a good excuse."

You open your mouth, choking on a scoff, then ask, "Did you do that on purpose?"

"No! It really was an accident. I'm glad it was just water, but I still feel bad."

You're squinting at him, but now you're curious about something else.

"Why'd you wanna get away from the party?"

Sighing, Mike shows a tired smile. "Honestly, I'm still worn out from the game. I'm already sore and covered in these god damn bruises. I just wanna relax."

"If you're covered in bruises, I can't imagine how the other team feels. You smacked the shit outta some of 'em."

"So, you were watching."

"I may have glanced up once or twice," you lie. "Anyway, why don't you just hide out in here?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "Erwin insisted I show my face, and I didn't want him to give me shit about being a recluse."

You can relate. It's why Hitch drags you everywhere. You wouldn't even leave your dorm for classes if you didn't have to.

Still. "Dude. You're definitely not a recluse. You're fucking everywhere. All the time."

"So? I can get tired too."

He's got a point.

"Can we just chill in here for a while?" He asks you.

"Why do you need me to chill? You basically just said you needed a break from social interaction."

"Yeah, but not all social interaction," he corrects with a small grin. "Please? I've got movies and video games, Zelda and shit."

Again, the contemplation kicks in, all the pros and cons. You know very well what this can (will) lead to, but you also want to escape the party. And, if Hitch whines about you leaving, you can tell her you were there the whole time. Not like it's a lie.

"Fine, but I have some stipulations."

"Oh, do you?"

"I do."

Mike waves a hand for you to go on. "Let's hear 'em then."

Holding up one finger, you tell him, "You have to let me snoop around your room—" he laughs. You lift another finger, "—and we are not, under any circumstances, having sex."

"Deal."

You tilt your head, taken aback at how quick he is to agree. "Wait, seriously?"

"Seriously. Go ahead. I'll pull up Hulu."

You hum, still suspicious, but start making your rounds, taking in photos from what you assume to be the high school soccer team he played on, then a fishing trip with Erwin, a middle-aged couple with a dog, and some pinned up tickets to sporting events he's attended.

He has a bookshelf against a wall, textbooks at eye level, but the top and bottom shelves are filled with sci-fi and fantasy novels that make you smile. His TV is fairly large, big enough to see the picture from his bed which is also sizable and draped with a plush comforter. The last thing that catches your eye is his closet, halfway open and full of jerseys and Polos. A few different pairs of shoes sit at the bottom, but pushed all the way in the corner are a few boxes of fucking Magic the Gathering cards.

"Oh, man. You really are a closet nerd. Like, literally."

"Huh?" Mike looks over at where you're kneeling, realizes what you're looking at and actually sounds self-conscious when he admits, "Yeah, uh, I wasn't joking the other day."

"I've never played—too technical for me—but my friends in high school did."

"There are baseball cards back there too if that makes me any cooler."

"It doesn't," you say bluntly before straightening up and reaching to shut the door to his room. Plopping down on the floor next to him (where he was smart enough to sit), you add, "But even I can admit it's kind of endearing."

"Oh yeah?" He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, that stupid lopsided grin on his too-handsome face.

"Don't get cocky, Zacharias."

"You wouldn't let me if I wanted to."

Both of you agree to a Batman movie, and you make yourself comfortable, kicking your sandals off and leaning against the bed behind you. You're a little too aware of Mike's body beside yours, but you're able to ignore it for the most part, keeping a few inches between your arms and legs. Of course, he still brushes against you when the movie ends and he takes the time to stretch. His shoulders roll, making his shirt strain over his back, and when he holds his arms out, linked at his fingers, you can't help but take a quick look at his bulging biceps.

"Fuck, I'm gonna feel like garbage tomorrow," he complains. You can see the bruises littering his arms, some of them thick lines while others are almost perfectly circular from where he was hit with the end of a lacrosse stick.

"You have any classes?" You ask.

"Just my ten o'clock and three o'clock."

You make a noise of acknowledgement then fall silent. You're not sure how to hold a conversation with him that isn't sarcastic or snippy since you haven't actually done a lot of talking in the first place.

"Sucks," is all you can come up with.

"It's alright. I've probably dealt with worse."

"Probably?"

"Well, nothing really comes to mind, but I'm sure I have."

You should get going. It's late, and you have a nine AM tomorrow. Plus, the longer you sit next to Mike, the more ideas pop up in your head. Dirty ideas. Ideas that will leave you disappointed in yourself.

"Well, I'm gonna head back. This has been…" You're unsure of what word to use, don't want to get his hopes up by saying 'fun'.

Mike figures you out and offers, "Tolerable?"

"Yeah, we can go with that. I'll get your shirt back to you sometime soon."

Mike chuckles and gets to his feet. "Just whenever you can." He grabs your wet top from the ground and holds it out to you, then reaches for the door as you slip on your sandals.

You feel him close behind you, close enough for his chest to push against your back when you straighten up. His arm is pressing into your side, hand curled around the knob and twisting it, but he's unable to open the door as you let your head fall against it.

"God dammit."

"Hm?" You can tell he's leaning down because his breath falls just over your ear.

"I said we weren't—"

He cuts you off, "But, you want to."

He's too hot and too smooth, and you can’t stop yourself from turning around and breathing, "Yeah, I want to."

It's different tonight. Mike takes his time undressing you, kissing and sucking your neck, your collarbone, your nipples that pebble against his tongue. It's unnerving even as you squirm and moan.

He eats you out lazily, flattening his tongue against your folds then dipping into your slit so that he can slip into your twitching hole.

When he adds a finger, you immediately grind down on it, silently begging him to work you open enough to take his cock, but he doesn't move any faster, apparently content to just drive you insane.

You're nearly begging by the time he turns you on your side and moves to lay behind you, hiking your leg up and pushing most of his length inside of you in one faultless motion that makes you choke and sob his name.

That stretch is back, delicious as it is painful as he splits you open. His thrusts are the same slow pace, cock dragging against gummy walls as he drapes an arm over you to toy with your swollen clit.

It takes you both longer than usual to come, but when you do, your whole body trembles against him, and you have to suck in several deep breaths until you feel like your lungs start actually filling with air.

Mike paints your back with warm cum, groaning right in your ear as he rubs against you, his cock sliding easily up and down your skin and making more of a mess.

That unnerving feeling blooms in your chest again, crawls up into your throat.

Tonight had been too casual, too natural. The way you hung out and watched a movie was already a little strange. Him fucking you from behind, holding you tight against his body, was too tender. And, now, after he leaves to grab a wet towel and uses it to clean your back, you find yourself searching for words again only to come up with passionate—intimate.

And, words like that scare you.

[ n e x t ]

#miche zacharias x reader #mike zacharias x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #aot fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #mels prima vista #mels frat house

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solomonish · 4 years ago

Text

Way To Go MC, You’ve Allowed Yourself to be Poisoned (Demon Brothers)

CW for: descriptions of food and eating, brief descriptions of choking-like symptoms. (mainly in the intro, though the individual stories mention coughing, (light) blood and fainting). there will be talk of food and keeping an eye on what is being eaten in the individual character stories as well.

Ahh thank you nonnie! I got tired and stopped at the demon brothers but I’ll finish the nowdateables later if you want! Which let’s be real, I’ll probably do soon because I wanna write for Solomon lol

I hope you like it!

---

It started off like any other night, with you grabbing a seat at the dinner table as the last of the food was placed in the middle. Someone beside you took your plate and gave you your portion for you, smiling at your murmur of thanks as they set it down. You waited until the last person, Levi, sat down, smiling at him as he muttered something about finishing a level to nobody in particular.

The moment you ate your first bite of food, something felt...off. Your tongue was tingling the slightest bit and you swore you could feel an uncomfortable heat follow the food as it slid down your throat. Thinking it was just a weird Devildom spice - after all, you’ve been here for how long? and nothing has happened yet? - you take another bite and immediately regret it.

Though such a food was no big deal for demons, it was powerful enough to knock you out of your chair and hunch over, grabbing your stomach as you cough forcefully in a desperate attempt to get the food out. Your insides were burning, your airways closing in and your chest crying out in pain the more you coughed. Soon enough, tears clouded your vision, and though you could hear the chaos around you, the only thing you could focus on was what felt like fire burning you from the inside out.

When you start coughing:

The moment you let out a little cough, his eyes are on you curiously. It’s just a remnant of the days when you were still so new to it all: the fragile little human makes a strange noise, be prepared to save a life.

He almost let his eyes fall from you, but he noticed that you weren’t stopping. It wasn’t the first time you had caused a scene at dinner, saying something afterwards about it “going down the wrong tube.” Still, this seemed...different.

When you fall off of your chair, he’s out of his before you even hit the ground. He’s kneeling by your side a second later, trying to tilt your head towards him so he can fully understand what is happening.

He finally realizes that you aren’t just choking and this is much more urgent when the blood starts coming out of your mouth.

He takes his attention away from you for a moment to ask who cooked dinner, and the brothers promptly rat out Mammon.

Though Lucifer is clearly agitated at that, he decides to lecture later and instead ask what Mammon put in the dish. Everyone erupts at once about halfway through because “How could you have forgotten what that will do to a human??”

That’s the last thing you remember for yourself - whether from the poison itself or being unable to breath through all your coughing, you passed out fairly quickly afterwards

Taking care of you afterwards:

Lucifer isn’t the type to panic in the moment. He’s very accustomed to taking the lead and having everything under control.

That’s in the moment, though. When he has Satan mix up the remedial potion, he’s fine, checking over you and keeping his brothers a safe distance away while he makes sure you’re still breathing. Once you’re safely in bed, brothers having been banned from your room until at least morning, and he’s the only one left lingering in the doorway, that’s when it all begins to set in.

There’s less regret and more general uncertainty in these moments - it starts with him wondering if he should really leave you alone, and soon enough it spirals into him reminding himself just how careful he needs to be with you in the Devildom. (And really, after taking charge of seven demon lords on accident, isn’t it just like you to get killed by a spicy leaf? Honestly, he should’ve known better.)

Once you finally do wake up, he tries to act like his normal “down to business” self - “I’ve told my brothers they are not to overwhelm you today, though we both know how that will go. I’ve made Leviathan figure out what bland foods are safe for humans, you’ll have to take it easy for now as your stomach is still irritated. Let me know immediately if you feel woozy or nauseous for any reason-” He prattles on and on, and though you’ve stopped paying attention you can still feel the softness in his tone

He tries to be gentle with you, and you have to remind him that you were just poisoned, not bedridden for months. Sometimes he’ll shoot you a glare and try to justify himself by saying it’s just like you to make another foolish mistake, but others he just won’t say anything and will keep the hand he has placed on your lower back “for safety”

Firmly believes in establishing as many preventative measures to keep this from happening again, so the next few weeks are going to be....a lot.

Sets up an alarm so he can remind you every lunch not to pick any of the “not safe for humans” options. Probably also gets you a seat in a class that goes over poisonous plants in the Devildom.

Do not try to skip this. It’s easier for everyone if you just let him ease his mind how he likes.

When you start coughing:

At first, Mammon assumes that you just heard the joke he made and (naturally) started laughing so hard your weird little human body couldn’t take it

So essentially, you start choking and he starts laughing at you thinking you’re laughing together

That all stops the moment you fall out of your chair and double over, suddenly dry heaving on the floor.

He sort of short-circuits for a second, not entirely sure what to do until one of the more knowledgeable brothers stoops down beside you

They tell him to just keep your airways clear and make sure you’re still breathing while they go to get the elixir they need, and he does. It’s one of the few times they see him so serious - he just doesn’t want to mess up, so he doesn’t focus on any of their comments or bite back

(”Gee, Mammon’s actually stepping up for once” “Yeah, too bad he was the one that poisoned them in the first place”)

(Lucifer: he WHAT)

Taking care of you afterwards:

Mammon is usually the first thing you see in the morning, so that doesn’t come as a surprise. What does surprise you is how quiet he’s being.

When you sit up and groggily ask, “Is something wrong?” (barely getting the words through your swollen lips) he is torn between trying to say something smooth (”N-not now that you’re okay!! not that i care....”) or calling you a dumb human. So instead he just stares at you

Eventually you can get it out of him what happened, and it explains why your face feels like it had been burned and your stomach feels gross

Mammon says he’s going to come up with a surefire way to protect you so nothing like this ever happens again, but his version of protecting you is sticking by your side 24/7 and he already does that so?

You’re the one that’s going to have to take the lead. Make a list of common ingredients that are SUPER deadly to humans and make sure you both have one for reference

Soon enough, though, he figures out how he can help you without your guidance and you catch him pointing out what’s safe without you having to ask

He follows you to the lunch line and examines the clear plastic boxes until he can point out a few human-safe options. He’ll bend to whisper in your ear in line at some fast-food joint. If you’re not sure, he’ll be the first to ask before you even remember that’s something you should be doing anyway.

He’ll even try to make dishes he thinks you’ll like without the poisonous ingredient! Sometimes it takes a few tries but if he wants you to try something with him, he WILL make it himself

When it comes to you, Mammon really will give you the best care he can. Sometimes he just needs that extra push to think things through.

(And if this wasn’t a push. a hard shove. over a cliff. into shark infested waters)

(don’t do this again, mc. his demon heart can’t take it)

When you start coughing:

Levi has never mentioned how his brother don’t normally speak much to him at dinner and he’s just learned to be highly attuned to you. He notices a lot of little things you do, and is normally the first to realize when you’re choking or something.

That’s why, when you start coughing this time, he is the first one to panic. He knows that that isn’t a normal cough, he just doesn’t know what to do about it.

He looks down at his plate and realizes what’s on it, something he cries out right when you fall to the ground, clutching your stomach. You’re on the other side of the table and his brothers are already crowding around you, so Levi doesn’t get to see the blood and can only hear your coughing.

When your coughing gets weaker as you faint, he freaks. the. fuck. out. Did you die?? Even as he tries to look over his brother’s shoulders, he can’t get a good grasp of what happened until somebody tells him.

(It doesn’t matter much though. He’s still stuck in a loop of wondering what he could’ve done if he had gotten to dinner sooner, if he had managed to score a coveted seat next to you, if he had just looked at his plate or offered to take over for Mammon...)

Taking care of you afterwards:

You wake up in your bed and Lucifer is the one who comes in, asking you how you feel and if you’re up to classes to die.

Being poisoned sure does take a lot out of you, so you ask to stay. Lucifer gives a quick nod and warns you not to shirk your duties, wishing you a fast recovery and letting you know that (human safe) food has been set aside specifically for you.

You doze off soon after (hey, a sick day may as well be spent sleeping in, right?) and when you wake up, somebody else is there, looking at you with inquisitive orange eyes and nearly scaring you half to death.

When you scream, he screams, backing up into your dresser and knocking some of the things off of it.

“I-I’m sorry-! I was just- told to check up on you- just in c-case....I’ll leave now!”

Boy’s gonna make you chase after him when you’re basically sick smh

If you go to his room and demand to be let in, he will - and he’ll let you stay under the guise of “well if you have to check on me every hour it’ll be less of a hassle if I just stay here...”

You won’t be able to get him to say he feels guilty for letting this happen, but when you pick up on the signs ensure him that he’s doing fine taking care of you. HIs cool room helps soothe your mouth (which is still a little irritated), and you’re honored he has an alarm set to check up on you

You know he’s feeling better about it all when an alarm goes off and he just asks “Hey you good?” and he chuckles a little bit when you respond “Hold on I gotta check my own pulse....... yeah i think i’m good”

Overall he is worried but he doesn’t know how to communicate it? So it’s a lot of quick, worried glances and double checking nutrition facts on packages before he hands them to you.

He kind of leaves you to your own devices, but he does send you worried glances every now and then until you’re recovered. He also makes it a point, when Mammon’s on dinner duty, to tell him exactly how he prepared the meal, though you don’t know if it’s for your sake or just to bother him. Probably both.

When you start coughing:

Satan has taken to leaving his books in his room for most dinner and talks to you in their place, so he notices what’s in the dish pretty quickly.

However, the second step of realizing what it could do to a human doesn’t quite hit him until you’re already on your second bite.

He reaches out to grab your wrist anyway, watching you cough while also staring at him in confusion. As he watches your face redden and your mouth swell, you take your wrist from his grasp and cover your mouth with your hand.

He’s the one who knows what to do, so he appoints someone to keep and eye on you while he runs (yes, runs, but he’ll act all cool about it if his brothers bring it up later) to his room to get some potion that’ll (hopefully) negate the effects

(Don’t let him hear me say this but) he’s similar to Lucifer in that he’s very level-headed when it happens - somebody needs to be focused on the cure when some of his more dramatic brothers are screaming (looking at you, Mammon and Asmo)

Taking care of you afterwards:

Satan might be the best at taking care of you, but he’s probably also the least fun.

Once he realized a while ago how fragile a human could be (and that he was interested in actually keeping you alive rather than just watching how long it takes for something to hurt you), he put in an effort to read up on how to help a poisoned human in the Devildom.

He knows how you must be feeling, and he offers you soothing teas or even a (human safe!) numbing lip balm to help you out.

(He finds great pleasure in how ridiculous you look, now that the danger’s passed - though he won’t tell you outright, you can tell it by the amused grin he isn’t even trying to hide)

Don’t be surprised if you catch him eyeing your plates of food for a while after the incident, and any time you catch him in the act he’ll look at you, take a drink out of the nearest cup and lift his eyebrows in a weird little acknowledgment that he’s been caught before saying “It looks tasty.”

Overall, he’s the standard amount of worried? Even though he will take every opportunity to tease you about how you looked afterwards or how feeble you are to be taken down by something so small (jokingly), he won’t ever get out of the habit of double checking your food to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

When you start coughing:

Asmodeus eyes you warily when you start coughing, but continues with his entertaining until you hit the ground.

He’s by your side in an instant, hands hovering over you as if he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself (he doesn’t).

He doesn’t remember calling for Satan, but Satan is the one who kneels by you, so maybe he does? His focus is on you and deciding on something he can do to help.

This ends up shielding your face, puffy and a mess from your tears and retching, from the others who are all peering over at you in concern. He knows it’s not the most pressing detail, but he figures that maybe he can preserve your dignity a little bit, no?

He follows the action with his hands covering his mouth nervously, watching as they have to force a potion down your throat now that you’re unconscious. He’s allowed to stay by you once they determine that you’re safe since he normally doesn’t cause too much of a fuss - not when he looks as pale and miserable as he does now, anyway.

Taking care of you afterwards:

He’s not too experienced in the healthcare field, but boy does he know self care! He knows how to get your skin feeling less gross after the rather...irritable reaction it had and the best way to rest is if you feel totally physically relaxed, right?

For a while, if your stomach still feels like it’s churning or you’re otherwise unfocused, he’s the first to defend you from anybody who thinks you’re overreacting.

Also makes sure nobody outside of the house knows how...unsightly of an ordeal it was. He isn’t shaming you internally or anything, but he’d loathe to have such an unpretty picture in people’s heads when you’ve been nothing but showstopping the whole time beforehand!

Will make sure to grab a seat across from you juuust before you take a bite for a while. It doesn’t matter if he’s across the room in the middle of a story or if you’re at a cafe with someone else and he’s still home. You’ll find him sliding in wordlessly to the seat across from you and watching you intently, making sure you’re eating something that isn’t going to burn you from the inside out.

Has multiple websites bookmarked on his D.D.D. that tell him what is poisonous to you and makes sure YOU are aware of what you’re putting inside your body before you eat it. He seems to genuinely think you’ll forget to save yourself from such a life-threatening situation, but the pout he gives you when you try to get him to stop is enough to convince you to live with it.

When you start coughing:

When you start coughing, he reaches over and starts patting your back absently in the way that usually helps.

He notices the way you grasp onto the table in an attempt to keep yourself up, coughing into your other hand as it gets worse by the second. When you almost slip off, he reaches out to catch you before you hit to floor

Is ready to do the Heimlich when one of his brothers stops him because 1) he’d probably snap you in half, and 2) that’s not what’s happening

He watches blankly as Satan approaches him, laying you down gently as instructed. That’s probably worse, watching you writhe on the floor like that.

He’s the one instructed to help hold you down so they can feed you the potion cure. He wants to hold your hand but it’s covered in blood, and he doesn’t want to risk loosening his grip on you and you somehow spilling it.

Taking care of you afterwards:

He’s the one most shaken up about the whole ordeal, I’d think? While the others are definitely worried he’s the one that has the BIGGEST problem with the feeling of helplessness so I think it would bring back some memories

He definitely keeps a watchful eye over you until you can tell him coherently that you’re okay, and even then he’s still treating you like porcelain for a short while

He can’t help it! Any time he’s reminded of just how frail you can be (and how unexpectedly something horrible can happen) he just...needs a few gentle moments to collect his thoughts.

Does NOT want you even looking at anything that has that plant in it (or anything else poisonous for that matter). Will straight up eat an entire dish from the pan if you give it a glance that he thinks means you’re thinking about eating it. He can usually get away with it since that’s similar to what he already does, but every now and then you see the look in his eyes and wonder if there’s something more to it

He’ll warn you in the future if he knows something is poisonous, but if you’re trying something new he’ll automatically ask you “Can you eat that?” If he doesn’t know, he can at least remind you to check for yourself.

When you start coughing:

Very few things can snap Belphegor out of a drowsy dinner stupor. You suddenly falling on the floor and coughing your insides out is one of the things that can.

If his brothers weren’t so concerned with you, they’d have a few quips about how quickly he startled awake

The first thing he does is dart his eyes back to the table, where he quickly realizes that they just inadvertently poisoned you. When he turns back, it seems the others have already come to that conclusion and someone is running off to help you

He knows that he doesn’t have much to offer in terms of help, but he will tear somebody (Mammon) away from you and kneel next to Beel.

He keeps himself under control by comforting Beel as he holds you down.

There’s definitely a sick feeling in his stomach, something familiar about you lying on the floor and bleeding that he doesn’t like. He pretends to be averting his eyes at the sight of them forcing a potion down your throat and not some regrettable memory.

Taking care of you afterwards:

You wake up and Belphie is curled up next to you in your bed. Nobody else is in the house and it’s 3 PM. You feel gross and you can’t reach your phone to actually confirm what time it is and you have no idea what the fuck is going on until he wakes up

Which he does, after you poke and prod him enough and he’s very grumpy about it

“yeesh, you get poisoned and suddenly you think you’re the princess of the devildom”

“I get WHAT”

Definitely is planning to get Mammon back tenfold

He tries to act nonchalant about it but he does keep waking up ever few hours and lifts his head to like. check that you’re good for the first day or so.

Sometimes he gets this sad look in his eyes and you have to smooth his hair back and reassure him that everything’s okay. It works a little but if he thinks he can trick you by pretending to sleep and then steal a few moments where he can Brood on his own while STILL cuddled up next to you, he will.

Suddenly takes an interest in what you’re eating. Every day. Every meal.

He doesn’t go to check on you but he does text you a few minutes before lunch or if you’re getting dinner somewhere other than the house “What are you planning on eating?”

Gets real huffy if you don’t give him a straight answer. Usually will respond with a “Whatever don’t get yourself almost killed again”

If you decide to get cheeky and answer “Probably straight poison, like right out of the mysterious bottle with a skull on it” he will just say “ugh, sounds like you. have fun.”

“...”

“...seriously, don’t do that mc.”

he sets alarms to wake up so he can make sure you don’t ingest literal poison be a little nice to him please

991 notes · View notes

andreafmn · 4 years ago

Text

Choices - Part 1

Word Count: 3,913

Requested: by me; inspired by a TikTok POV

Story Description: After the snap (Y/N) and Steve decided to shift their friendship into a romantic relationship. After the Battle of Earth, and Thanos’s ultimate defeat, Steve had to travel back in time to return the stones, but what (Y/N) doesn’t know is he’s not returning. The man leaves to his best friend the hard task to break the news to his lover. But what will happen if Steve returns in an unexpected manner?

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Part: 1/3

A/N: I just gotta say I only have spoiled knowledge of what happens in Endgame because I refuse to acknowledge its existence and I’ll never watch it. Anything I write that is not cannon, whoops. But this one-shot is inspired by a POV I stumbled upon in TikTok and I just needed to write. Had to divide it into two parts because it was getting too long.

Follow Me!

Next ->

***

It had taken 6 years and losing almost everyone we loved for Steve and me to admit our feelings for each other. After seeing our closest friends dissipate into fine dust we decided life was too short to wait for the right time.

That was 5 years ago. Our relationship had been solidified as the years went on and the loss of Nat and Tony in the Battle of Earth only bringing us closer.

But something had changed. These past few days Steve had grown distant and quiet, only acknowledging me when we were in our bedroom or stuck in training. All I could attribute it to was that he was nervous about traveling to return the stones. Normally, he would talk to me about what was clouding his mind but nowadays he was acting as if we were strangers.

Thankfully, I had a friend to occupy my time with. Bucky and I had developed a close friendship since meeting him back when he still was the Winter Soldier. Being part of his recovery was the catalyst to the relationship we have today. Losing him in the blip was horribly heartbreaking but it brought me and Steve closer. Now that he was back, I was able to have someone I could confide in the understood the Captain’s brain.

“Hey, Buck,” I announced my arrival as I saw Bucky getting some water in the kitchen. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Not really,” he sighed. “The nightmares, you know?”

He was right, I did know. Although I wasn’t blipped I had my own demons I was still battling with. “Yeah, I get it. I’m making grilled cheese, do you want some?”

“Grilled cheese? At 3 am?” He chuckled. “What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, (Y/N). You only eat grilled cheese at this time when you’re worried about something.”

“You know me too well,” I sighed. “It’s Steve. He’s been really weird this past few days.”

“Weird how?”

“He’s been kinda avoiding me lately and I don’t know why.” A few tears were threatening to spill, but I did my best to dry them before they fell. “It’s like nothing I do is good enough, like he’d rather be anywhere but close to me. Does he hate me? Is it something I did?”

Bucky got up from the chair he was sat in and wrapped me in a hug. I couldn’t hold off the tears this time. “There’s nothing you could do that would make that man hate you, he’s probably just in his head about traveling in time.”

“I thought so, but why wouldn’t he talk to me about it. There’s not a single thing we haven’t been able to talk about up to ‘til now. What’s so important about this that he can’t talk to me about it.”

“Don’t stress yourself over this, doll. I’m sure after tomorrow everything would go back to how it was.”

Bucky’s POV

And at that time I did believe it. Knowing Steve I really thought he was just nervous about the journey he had to take in the morning. That was until he said he needed to talk with me.

“What is it, punk? You too nervous?” I chuckled until I saw the serious face he held.

“I need a favor from you, Buck, and you might not like it.”

“You’re scaring me, Steve. What’s wrong?” I couldn’t help but think that this had to do with why he was avoiding (Y/N).

“When I go back today, I’m not coming back in 5 seconds.”

“What are you talking about, Steve?”

“I’m going to stay back and have a life with Peggy. This is my last chance to be with her and I’m taking it,” he ran his hands through his face. He knew what he was asking of me and he knew it wasn’t fair. “I need you to tell (Y/N) for me once I’m gone. She’s gonna need someone to lean on and I need it to be you.”

“You can’t do that, Rogers. It’s not fair to me and it’s definitely not fair to her. (Y/N) loves you with her whole being. This is going to crush her.” He had been ignoring her out of guilt and he was leaving all these feelings behind in a couple of hours, leaving me to deal with the aftermath. “You know, she’s been beating herself over you avoiding her and I thought it was just nerves. But this is a new low; the Steve I know would never do this.”

“Bucky, I’m sorry. I just think it’ll go over quicker if it comes from you.”

“What you’re doing is cleaning your hands of a mess you’re making.” The anger was boiling inside of me by now. (Y/N) did not deserve this ending, she did not deserve to have her heart broken in such a cowardly way.

“Please, Bucky. I don’t think I could tell her face to face.” He took a paper out of his back pocket. “I wrote her this letter, hopefully, it’ll help things to smooth over. Please, Buck, please. You have to believe me when I tell you the last thing I want to do is hurt her.”

I snatched the letter from his hands and guarded it in my jacket pocket. “I’ll do it only because I owe you my life and she’ll need someone once I break her heart for you. But, I get it.”

“Thanks, bud. I know that for now, it must seem like a horrible thing to do but hopefully in time you’ll see my point of view.” I accepted the hug he offered. Although my head was telling me to be loyal to Steve, my heart was breaking at the thought of breaking (Y/N)’s.

Before I knew it, Sam, Bruce, (Y/N), Steve, and I were standing in front of the machine that would be the catalyst of inevitable heartbreak.

3rd person’s POV

“Well, this is it,” Steve whispered. They were standing to the right as Banner made sure everything was ready for Steve’s trip.

“You know, it’s not too late to back out,” (Y/N)’s hands traveled to his chest. “We can have someone else go.”

“It has to be me, (Y/N). But I’ll be back before you know it, doll.” His head lowered and left a deep kiss on her lips. They lingered for longer than usual, and she couldn’t help but imagine that there was an underlying message to it. “You know I love you, right? And I would never do anything to purposely hurt you, right?”

“Of course, Steve. I love you, too.” (Y/N) smiled and kissed him once more, allowing him to engulf her in a tight hug. “Be careful, okay? I can’t lose you too.”

“I will,” he smiled. “Now, I’ve gotta go.”

“I know, be safe.” She smiled once more as she watched Steve get on the machine. She made her way over to Bucky, his arm circling her shoulders. “It’s just 5 seconds, right?”

“Yup,” he smiled, ignoring the burning sensation coming from the paper inside his jacket. “Just five seconds.”

“Ready, Cap?” asked Bruce from behind the control panel. Steve nodded, one hand on Mjolnir and another on the case that held the Infinity Stones. “Alright, we’ll meet you back here, okay?”

“You bet,” he responded. Two of the people present knew that it was a lie, but no one else had picked up on it yet. His head was encircled by the helmet and he stared at the two people that meant the most to him in this lifetime. Hurting them was the hardest thing he had to do, but he had been living for everyone else for too long. He decided that it was time to do something for himself.

“Going quantum in 3, 2, 1,” Bruce announced. A breath hitched in (Y/N)’s throat as the time went down, all she had to do was brace herself for five seconds. Banner hit the button and (Y/N) had to blink various times to fully grasp the disappearance of the man she loved. He had vanished as quick as a thought, one second there and the next just a memory. “And returning in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1....”

Nothing. Bruce clicked the button and nothing happened. The body of Captain America was nowhere in sight.

“Bruce, what the hell is going on?” (Y/N) spoke up, but she wasn’t sure if her voice was heard. Her mind raced a million miles an hour and she could feel her legs giving out. Had it not been for Bucky’s left arm, she would have crashed to the floor. Bruce stammered with his words, not knowing what to say. “Bucky, where is he, Bucky? Where’s Steve?”

Bucky knew it would hurt to see her cry, but this was shattering his heart. Her body was falling limp in his arms and the tears were streaming out of her eyes faster than he could dry them. Her words were slurred but he understood the gist of it. She was hurt; she was betrayed; she was beyond heartbroken.

“Come on, let’s sit down.” Bucky led her to the tent that was propped up behind them. “There’s something you should know.”

“What is it, Buck?” She sobbed.

“Please don’t hate me, but Steve is not coming back.” The girl looked up at her friend, not know what emotion she was feeling in the moment. Her tears stopped momentarily, needing to hear the words that would spill from Bucky’s mouth. “Steve decided to go back in time and have a life with Peggy. He needed you to know that he didn’t want to hurt you. He also left you this note.”

Her shaky hands extended to take hold of the piece of paper Bucky handed her. She dried away the tears that were clouding her eyes and began reading.

My dearest doll,

If you are reading this letter, you know I am not coming back. I decided to take hold of the chance to have the life I would’ve had if I stayed in the 40s. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling in this moment, and I’m sorry for all the hurt I know I’m causing you. I need you to know that I never knew I could love someone after Peggy and I’m thankful for all the years we had together. I was in love with you and I still am, but I could not continue on knowing I have a chance to answer one of my biggest ‘what if’s. I could not go on in our life with the weight of my past on our shoulders, you deserve better than that. I hope you can pardon how big of a coward I am being in the moment, I knew I couldn’t do this face-to-face and you deserve at least a worded explanation of why I left. You are strong, amazing, beautiful, and deserving of all the love in the world; I’m sorry I couldn’t provide it. I want you to promise me that you’ll move on and be happy, even if it’s not with me. I also hope you don’t hate Bucky for being the bearer of bad news, he didn’t know until today and I gave him no other choice thant to tell you. If there’s someone that can understand what you are feeling right now, it is him.

I hope one day you will forgive me for this,

I love you until the end of the line.

Steve

She folded the paper back up and broke down once again. Bucky engulfed her in a hug and held her as she shook. “He’s gone, Buck. He went back to be with Peggy. I wasn’t enough for him.”

“Oh, doll, I’m so sorry.”

“Guys, we’ve got to head back,” Sam peeked his head through the tent, heartbroken by the view in front of him. “I’ve got her, Buck. Go get the truck started.”

Bucky released (Y/N) into the arms of Sam Wilson, and left to start the car to head back to the tower. Sam ran his hands over the sobbing girl’s hair trying his best to soothe her. Even though he didn’t fully understand the situation she was in, he got the jist of it. After everything was packed back up, (Y/N) had fallen asleep in Sam’s arms, so he picked her up and laid her on his lap to not wake her. She would be needing all the rest she could get.

“You guys good back there?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah, she’s out like a light,” Sam whispered.

“Good, she’s gonna need all the energy she can get to recover.”

“What happened?”

“Steve decided to stay back and be with Peggy; left me to tell her the news.” Busky gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were pale white, his anger building up inside him.

“Wow, I never expected that from the Cap. I don’t think it’ll be easy for her to move on from this.” He looked down at the sleeping figure in his lap, wiping away the few tears that had slipped out in her slumber. “She might be physically strong, but she’s very sensitive and rarely gets attached.”

“I still don’t understand why he chose to do it this way. The little punk.”

The duo waited until Banner was inside the truck before leaving the spot they were in and back home. Unbeknownst to them, behind the trees, a figure stared at the scene in front of him with a broken heart.

***

It had been almost three weeks of robotic movements from (Y/N). She would wake up, sometimes eat, sit in front of a window and stare down the New York skyline; other times she would lay in bed wearing one of Steve’s shirts and sprayed the room with his cologne as she sobbed into his pillow. There were the nights that she drowned her sorrows in a bottle of whatever liquor she could find, until the other members started hiding the bottles. But that didn’t stop her from stashing a couple of bottles in her closet. Nighttime was always the hardest. (Y/N) had grown used to falling asleep in Steve’s arms and being engulfed in his warmth. Now, she thrashed around in a bed that was too big, too cold, and too uncomfortable.

The rest of the team had tried their best to lift her spirits, but nothing seemed to work too well. Sam tried his best to make her favorite meals, which she gave thanks for but rarely ate, pushing the food around in the plate; Bucky tried to entice some emotion by asking her to join him in clearing his list of movies to watch to catch up on the times, but she would zone out for most of the movie; Bruce would ask her to join him in his afternoon reading sessions, but every time she picked up a book she re-read the same page over and over not retaining a single word; Wanda would try her best to get her to partake in normal hygiene practices, which the girl had held off on for a couple of days, only getting her to shower every other day.

(Y/N) was a walking zombie, doing the bare minimum to survive.

But today she had woken up differently, her heart hurting a little less than the other days. She got into the shower, brushed her teeth, and even got dressed in her own clothes. It was three in the afternoon, but she was up. She was detangling her hair when her bedroom door opened.

“You’re awake?” Bucky said, startled to see a clean and awake (Y/N) in front of him. “Don’t mean to sound so surprised, but I came in here with the intention to startle you awake once again.”

The girl chuckled and continued her brushing. “Thought it was time to do something by myself.”

“Here, let me.” Bucky took the brush from her hands and started brushing through her damp hair. It finally smelled of her normal shampoo and conditioner, and not a mix of her hair oils and Steve’s cologne. The smell of strawberries and vanilla emanated from her head and Bucky couldn’t help but breathe in deep. His left hand ran the hairbrush through her hair as his right hand smoothed it down. (Y/N) leaned into his touch and smiled at the comforting strokes he was providing. Unknowingly, Bucky started humming a lullaby under his breath.

“What are you humming?”

“It’s a Russian lullaby I overheard one night while under HYDRAs hold. There’s not much I like to remember from those times, but this I don’t mind.”

“I like it,” she rocked to the movements of his hands and smiled as she listened intently to his humming. She couldn’t see him, but the veteran was smiling at her. It had been the first time she had shown any kind of emotion in the time that had elapsed. He finished her hair in a sloppy braid, not fully understanding the mechanics of the three-strand braid. “Thank you, Buck.”

“How’re you feeling today, (Y/N)?” He finally asked.

“I’m feeling better, don’t know how long it will take to get me to 100% but I’m feeling like a 45% today.”

“That’s good to hear, you know. It’s better than where we started.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind and she leaned into him, enjoying the warmth his body emanated. “So, what do you want to do today?”

“Have not gotten up to that point.”

“Well, Sam’s already cooking up something in the kitchen and I’m on the second movie of The Lord of the Rings, so we can watch that one.”

“Okay, that sounds good.” She smiled at the man that was next to her as they exited her room.

The rest of the team had gathered in the kitchen, working on ways to cheer (Y/N) up when they saw her emerge from the hallway with a small smile on her face. Everyone’s jaw fell open when they saw the girl looking partly human and with a spark of energy. It had been a while since she had resembled the (Y/N) they knew and loved.

“Guys, please pick up your mouths off the floor, your eyes do not deceive you.” (Y/N) joked.

“Glad to see you’re alive, (Y/N),” Sam spoke. “Come have some food.”

She smiled at her friend and sat next to Wanda as Sam placed a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of her. Bucky served himself and her a cup of coffee and added the cream and sugar she enjoyed with her drink. She happily munched on the food as the people around her stared in astonishment.

Thankfully, the staring didn’t last long. Wanda and Sam had a quick recon mission and Bruce had some work to finish in the lab, leaving Bucky and (Y/N) to enjoy The Two Towers in peace. Bucky had the curtains drawn and the movie all set up as (Y/N) took out blankets and made a hole between all the pillows that adorned the couch. The duo settled into their spot and bundled themselves in the blankets, settling in for the 226 minutes of the extended version of the movie.

She wasn’t sure at what point in the movie she fell asleep, but she was woken up by Bucky softly shaking her awake. She mumbled something she didn’t even understand, so Bucky decided to carry her to her bed. (Y/N) had burned too much energy by being around too many people too fast. It didn’t seem like a lot but being around the whole team had taken a toll on her. The sun had started to set and so were the last slivers of happiness she had felt.

Bucky set her down on her bed, tucking the blankets around her. He turned to leave when a small hand wrapped around his right wrist. He looked down and saw a teary-eyed (Y/N) looking up at him.

“Stay, please.” Her voice was barely a whisper and it trembled slightly. She was the vision of the heartbreaking scene that had hurt him three weeks ago.

He smiled softly at the girl and went around the bed to climb in. “Today was hard, huh?”

“Yeah, I thought I was ready to go back to normal, but it took too much out of me. I feel so useless.”

“You are far from useless, doll. You’re hurting, darling, we all understand.” He pulled her in close and laid her head on his chest, the thin layer becoming wet with her tears. “It’ll get better someday, that’s the only thing I’m sure of.”

“How do you know?”

“Because we all do, after a while we all get better.”

“I wish we knew how long a while was. Everything would be easier.”

“I know, doll, but let’s take it all one day at a time. Just remember you’re not alone. You have me – and the rest of the team.” He cleared his throat trying to disguise the importance she held in his life. Bucky would have never said anything, but he had fallen for the girl. He held her already in high regard for the care she had given to his best friend, but his feelings had started to shift when she started caring for him while they were on the run.

“Thank you, Buck. I don’t know where I would be without you.” She laid a kiss on his chest and drifted to sleep with Bucky’s arm rubbing circles on her back.

One more week had gone by and (Y/N) had grown used to having Bucky sleep with her at night. He had helped her pack away all the things Steve had left in the room – specifically the cologne that still hunted her, – he started waking her up earlier and making sure she got at least two full meals a days before she went to bed, and he made sure that she didn’t spend her nights crying for a man he called his best friend.

All of Bucky’s efforts didn’t go unnoticed. The remaining Avengers had noticed how the ex-assassin cared for the broken girl, going further than the rest of them did. And his feelings for the girl did not fly by the mind-reading witch that currently stared at him preparing lunch for (Y/N).

“When will you tell her how you feel?” The redhead spoke, casually sipping on a cup of coffee.

“What do you mean, Wanda?”

“What she means is that you’ve been in love with that girl for far too long and it’s time you confess already,” Sam jeered. “Nothing’s stopping you now.”

“Except for the fact that she’s still reeling from my best friend breaking her heart by going back in time and leaving her to be with someone else. I’m sure she’ll be jumping with joy if I confess right now,” he mocked. “Anyways, how did you know?”

“You’re not very secretive about it,’’ Sam laughed. “You’re always in a sour mood but magically when you’re with her you become someone else. The White Wolf become (Y/N)’s puppy real quick!’’

“I am not that obvious with it.”

“Okay, lil’ pup.”

“Whatever. Anyways, it’s not the right time for that.”

“When will it be the right time then, Bucky?” Wanda inquired.

“I don’t know. But it’s not right now.” He plated what he was cooking and headed to (Y/N)’s room. The last thing she needed at the moment was a new relationship, even if that’s all Bucky wanted.

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