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masumiet · 4 months ago

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The Strand of Fate (Loki x female reader)

summary: In the peaceful realm of Asgard, tranquility reigns. Life within the palace flows in its usual rhythm: quiet and predictable. The routine is disrupted by the sudden arrival of a young princess from Alfheim, sent away from her homeland by her father. Officially, she has come to stay with the royal family of Asgard for an indefinite period, under the pretext of gaining experience in courtly receptions and strengthening ties with their allied realm. P.S.: add your name instead of the written. And good readings to everybody :)

Chapter 1: The Arrival

Sylveya sat in a large marble bath filled with steaming water. She lazily ran a cloth over her skin, washing away the dust and grime that clung to her after the exhausting journey in the carriage. Her eyes were slightly swollen from tears, her gaze hollow and fixed on an empty void.

The room was bathed in the soft morning sunlight pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Numerous pots with living flowers were arranged around the room’s perimeter. It seemed the servants had taken special care to prepare them for her. The inhabitants of Alfheim were renowned for their love of nature. Her homeland was abundant with gardens—both man-made and wild. The light elves dedicated much effort to nurturing the small beings they regarded as the true children of nature.

A pleasant aroma of honey, mint, and lavender wafted from the water. The maids who had prepared the bath explained that they had added a special herbal infusion to help her recover from the long, exhausting journey between realms. The fragrance soaked into her warm, damp skin. The calming scent of lavender soothed the princess, leaving her indifferent to her surroundings.

Sylveya submerged herself completely in the water. A scene from the morning before, back in her homeland, flared vividly before her eyes.

***

The young woman burst into her father’s study without knocking. Her movements were abrupt, her eyes blazing with fury. Freyr, the King of Alfheim and the god of peace and prosperity, lifted his head from the papers scattered across his desk. His brows furrowed, his eyes narrowed. Setting the delicate quill aside, he crossed his arms over his chest. His blue gaze was heavy and stern.

“How dare you barge in like this?” His voice thundered. Watching his daughter, so desperate and fierce in her actions, he sighed. He had anticipated this—he knew she would come. He had expected her resistance. The man understood that his command would not be obeyed without protest.

“Father, how could you give such an order?” the girl cried, halting before his desk. Her petite frame was taut with anger, her cheeks flushed with indignation—a stark contrast to her pale, delicate complexion. Her blue eyes, icy in hue, roiled with a storm.

The man exhaled deeply, studying her silently for a moment. His forehead creased with lines of tension, his lips pressed tightly together. He saw her mother in her—just as emotional, willful, and untamed. He lamented the loss of the gentle little girl she once was. But those days were gone, and a wall had risen between them—a wall he knew he had helped to build.

“You left me no choice, Sylveya. You have forgotten your status and the responsibilities it entails. You dared to act recklessly and with undue liberty. You dared to forget yourself!” His tone was sharp and unyielding. He was firm in his actions, certain of the command he had issued. “When you go to Asgard, you will not behave as you do here. Under the royal tutelage of the King and Queen, you will learn to conduct yourself with the dignity befitting your station.”

“I don’t want to!” she shouted, her voice breaking with emotion. Tears brimmed in her eyes, threatening to spill over. “I don’t want to leave my home, Father!”

“You will,” Freyr said gravely, his expression unwavering. “If you refuse to go willingly, I will order you taken there by force. It is your choice how you wish to present yourself before the King and Queen of Asgard—bound and humiliated or with your dignity intact.”

Sylveya was stunned by her father’s words. He had never spoken to her with such cruelty and severity before. Her eyes widened in disbelief and hurt, a tear slipping down her cheek to wet her dry, parted lips. She stared at her father for a long moment, struggling to process his declaration.

“Why are you doing this to me?” she whispered, still unable to grasp what was happening. A storm raged within her, her anger flaring. “My brothers said I’m like Mother. They told me I’m her image, that my gestures and expressions remind them of her. Is that why you don’t love me, Father? Because when you look at me, you see her?” she spat bitterly, her words laced with venom.

“Enough!” Freyr slammed his palms on the desk, the sound reverberating through the room. His daughter flinched in fear. “You know my decision, and you will obey! By evening, a carriage will be waiting for you, so I advise you to prepare yourself. Now leave! And do not shame me before the royal family of Asgard.”

Sylveya stared at her father in disbelief, unwilling to accept his words. Tears spilled freely from her eyes. At last, she let out a cry of anguish and frustration before fleeing the room, slamming the door behind her as she ran past the guards.

***

Emerging from the water, Sylveya gasped for air and opened her eyes. Pain was etched across her face as the memories resurfaced. She regretted her words to her father—she knew she had caused him pain, speaking to him in a way no daughter should address her parent. Letting out a heavy sigh, she stood and stepped out of the bath. Streams of water ran down her body, pooling on the sun-warmed floor. Gently, she picked up a large, soft towel from the stone table and began drying her skin.

The maids entered the bathing chamber, their gazes lowered. They approached her carefully, holding out a robe to help her dress.

“Your Highness, please follow us. With your permission, we will assist you in getting ready,” one of the maids said, bowing slightly in deference.

Sylveya gave a brief nod and walked toward the exit of the bathing room. Pausing at the open door, she reached out to a nearby plant, lightly brushing its petals with her fingertips. She felt the life and harmony pulsing within it, and a gentle smile graced her lips at the sensation. Stroking the stem one last time, she left the room and returned to the quarters prepared for her by Her Majesty.

***

Sylveya sat at the vanity, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair cascaded down her back in loose waves, glistening in the sunlight thanks to the natural oils crafted by the royal artisans. As one maid wove tiny, jeweled flowers into her hair, another delicately applied a light floral perfume to the princess's neck.

Dressed in a white silk gown, with a natural glow to her face, bright eyes, and her luminous pale skin, Sylveya embodied the archetypal image of an Alv—a Light Elf of Alfheim. Though her lineage was divine, her delicate appearance came from her mother’s heritage.

The door to her quarters suddenly opened, and Frigga entered with poise and grace. Sylveya immediately rose from her stool, turned to the Queen of Asgard, and executed a deep curtsy, her head bowed in deference.

“Your Majesty, thank you for your warm welcome. It is an honor to be your guest,” Sylveya said softly, her tone respectful and serene.

The goddess smiled warmly at the young Alv and stepped closer. Sylveya noticed the calming aura emanating from her—a serenity that the princess herself could not share. Her body was tense, her soul burdened by the recent quarrel with her father.

“I am glad to see you in Asgard, Sylveya,” Frigga said gently, taking the princess’s hand and examining her face with maternal affection. “Your mother was a dear friend of mine, as you must know. I have wanted to invite you here for quite some time, and when I received your father’s letter, I couldn’t refuse. How do you find your quarters? I personally oversaw their arrangement—I heard you favor light tones and greenery.”

Sylveya’s eyes darted around the room. Everything was indeed to her taste. These quarters even reminded her of home. The thought of Alfheim filled her heart with longing, causing it to ache with homesickness and sorrow.

“Everything is simply wonderful, Your Majesty. It is an honor to reside in such luxurious chambers,” she said with a polite smile. Sylveya wanted to bow again in gratitude, but Frigga stopped her with a firm yet gentle squeeze of her hand. Sylveya’s eyes widened in surprise, meeting the goddess’s steady gaze. Frigga smiled softly and released her hand.

“Please, call me Frigga,” the Queen said kindly. “I have known you since your birth, and you are like a niece to me. I wanted to tell you that the entire palace is at your disposal. The maids will show you our gardens, stables, or library—wherever you wish to go.”

The maids, lined up respectfully at the side, bowed deeply to affirm the Queen’s words.

“Additionally, I wish to inform you that a ball has been planned for tomorrow evening in honor of your arrival in Asgard. I hope you will take the opportunity to make some friends at court and enjoy yourself. My sons are currently away on a mission. They should return either late tonight or early in the morning, so I decided to schedule the ball for tomorrow. This way, you’ll have time to rest from your journey and adjust to the palace.”

“It is a great honor, Frigga,” Sylveya replied with a grateful smile. She smiled because it was expected of her. Yet the thought of being presented to so many strangers, who would surely stare and gossip behind her back, did not appeal to her. She was well aware of the nature of courtly society.

Late that night, Sylveya sat on the windowsill, her knees drawn to her chest. She hugged her legs as she gazed at the midnight view. The windows of her chambers faced a part of Asgard relatively free of structures and floating isles. Before her stretched the open expanse of sky, scattered with stars, and the radiant dome of the Bifröst’s gateway.

She had been sitting there for hours, lost in thought. She couldn’t imagine life away from home, but she had no choice. Regret weighed heavily on her heart—regret for the words she had hurled at her father. She regretted not embracing him, not kissing him goodbye as he stood by the carriage and helped her into it.

Her melancholy was interrupted by a brilliant pillar of light descending from the cosmos to the gateway of the Bifröst. Sylveya pressed herself against the glass, straining to see what was happening. But the pillar of light appeared and vanished as quickly as it had come. She kept her eyes fixed on the bridge, her father’s words about its workings echoing in her mind. Such light could only mean someone’s arrival. Patiently, she waited for the travelers to appear.

Finally, she saw them: a group of riders on horseback galloping across the bridge toward the palace. There appeared to be five of them. Sylveya watched them intently as they drew closer. Two riders led the group, their laughter echoing faintly even from a distance. One had dark hair and wore Asgardian green, while the other was blond, clad in steel armor with hints of red. She tried to get a better look, but they were still too far away.

"So, these must be the princes of Asgard," she thought, curiosity lighting her weary gaze.

#loki x reader #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki x reader smut #loki x yn #loki x you #loki x female reader #loki odinson x reader #loki laufesyon x reader

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lemon-zest-art · 2 months ago

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Faster than You _ Prologue

"I can't believe it!"

Exclaimed happily a certain hedgehog, wrapping his arms around his two race partners.

"The trio in the top 3! I mean, it's not surprising for Sonic as he's always in first place but y'know-"

Silver continued, continuing on about how great his friends are. Sonic couldn't help but chuckle while Blaze rolled her eyes with a smile on her face, this wasn't out of the ordinary for them.

Being co-workers and friends for a couple of years sure does help the whole

"teammate bonding" thing.

Once silver finally let go, the top 3 could start walking towards the paddock, receiving hundreds of "congratulations!" "great race guys!" Sometimes flowers even.

Sonic especially loved the time he got a little blue teddy bear. He has kept it through all these years and even uses it as a good luck charm at times.

But even that wasn't anything new for the blue flash. He's always enjoyed the attention he must admit, although he'll probably never truly get used to it.

As his fellow racers stopped to converse with others, he couldn't help but notice a car he'd never noticed before.

He furrowed his brows slightly

'Since when does the ARK even compete here..' he silently thought to himself

"Right sonic?"

He suddenly heard, snapping out of his thoughts and nodding. humming a response, turning his head back towards the blabbering hedgehogs.

As silver opened his mouth to continue his ranting, sonic couldn't help but interrupt

"Have you guys ever seen that car before?"

He mentioned his chin towards the new car in question.

Blaze followed his head movement, raising a brow slightly out of curiosity.

"I'm surprised you're not yet aware"

As she went on to mention some probably pertinent information about the ARK, Sonic’s focus was already long gone.

He couldn't help but notice a small group of people around the car in question. He was particularly intrigued by the one who very obviously was its racer. When he finally got a glimpse of the said owner he couldn't help but stare.

The man was wearing a complete black racing suit, adorned with red stripes going up both his arms and legs. along with multiple logos from various sponsors and the words "ARK" written in big white letters across both the back and chest area in classic car racing attire.

He seemed in pretty good shape, if only he'd remove his helmet...

And as if sonic had sudden magic powers, the rookie did just that, and mesmerized would be an understatement.

The hedgehog wore red stripes in his quills matching perfectly the outfit. Eyes that matched the exact same colors, not to mention the deep yet mysterious look said eyes came with.

He was simply gorgeous, to say the least.

Suddenly, Blaze's voice pierced through Sonic’s thoughts.

"Thats the new ARK rookie;

Shadow the Hedgehog "

#shadow the hedgehog #sonic fandom #sonadow #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #blaze the cat #silver the hedgehog #fanfiction #yaoi #shadow x sonic #sonic x shadow

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wishforhome · 2 months ago

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so so late but rules of engagement for the wip folder tag game thing?

I really wanted someone to ask about this one so I am PLEASED.

This is from my wardencrow polycule series, in which Viago (of course it's Viago) insists that they need to agree on rules for their relationship and sign a contract.

I'm struggling with it because it's basically just an INSANELY LONG conversation. I have most of the dialogue written but I need to fill out all the stuff *around* the dialogue and it's a drag and I kind of hate it.

I kind of feel like I need to throw out what I have and maybe approach it differently, because I'm just not sure the current format works.

But here's what I've got so far for the intro, plus the actual rules. Under the cut for length!

The house is dark and quiet, with candles set glowing around the room. In the hearth, a blazing fire casts flickering shadows across the walls. Four goblets on the table, filled with wine. The four of them sit around the table in various states of undress: Viago and Lucanis are wearing trousers but nothing else; Rook is in one of Lucanis’s shirts, loose and unbuttoned; and Teia – of course – is completely bare, leaning back in her chair with one foot resting in Viago’s lap. “This is the third time,” Viago says, and he draws towards him the sheet of paper and writing implements he had asked Lucanis for. “If we’re going to keep doing this, we need to set some ground rules.” Teia throws her head back when she laughs. “A contract, Vi? Really? That is so you.”

But Lucanis leans forward in his own chair, his elbows on the table. “He’s right, though,” he says. “It’s a good idea. It keeps things neat.” Rook eyes her lover, quirking an eyebrow. The whole thing feels a little … silly. “I understanding wanting to keep things clear,” she says, “but a contract seems a bit excessive. Do we have to sign it in blood?” Viago’s expression is as serious as usual; only the fact that he’s determined to write the document while half-dressed points to the absurdity of the situation. He taps the tip of the quill against the page as he explains. “It wasn’t a big deal when this was just a thing we did once or twice for fun. But if we keep doing it – if this becomes an ongoing arrangement – there are risks. Big ones,” he says. “We’re Crows, most of us, and this is dangerous. A contract is how we keep things clear. We all agree, we all sign – ink will do – and it protects everyone.” Rook frowns. “Dangerous?” she echoes. “But it’s just sex.” Viago shakes his head. “In the Crows, it’s never just sex.” He writes a handful of words across the top of the page. Teia leans over towards him and stifles a giggle. “‘Mutual Agreement for Discretion and Proper Conduct,’” she reads out loud. “You’re taking this very seriously, darling.” “It is serious,” Viago insists, but there is a certain brightness in his eyes and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Now, who wants to suggest the first rule?”

The Rules:

First Rule. We respect each other’s boundaries, and we never push anyone to do anything they aren’t interested in. Second Rule. We keep the lines of communication open, and we only lie to each other when absolutely necessary. Third Rule. It should be fun. If it stops being fun, we stop doing it. Fourth Rule. It should be mutually beneficial – politically, personally, and physically. Fifth Rule. Nobody falls in love; this is not a romantic arrangement. Sixth Rule. It must be secret. No matter how trustworthy someone seems, nobody outside the four (five) of us can ever know. Seventh Rule. Outside of the bedroom, we are never app together without a good reason. Eighth Rule. No threesomes. When we’re together, it’s all of us, or not at all. Ninth Rule. If anybody wants out, it’s over – no questions asked, no hard feelings, no consequences.

Bonus: My favourite part of their conversation, about rule eight.

R: Nobody gets left out. Nobody gets left behind. V: Are you really bringing your Warden mission protocols into this? R: (dryly) Yes, my group sex Warden protocols, that’s exactly what this is. We have a manual and everything, you know. Training drills, the works. T: I didn’t realize the Wardens were so … progressive. R: Oh yeah. All those long nights in damp, dark forts. You get bored, you know.

#warden crow polycule #dragon age fanfic #wip #dragon age fanfiction #da 4 #dragon age the veilguard #viago de riva #lucanis dellamorte #teia cantori #rook thorne

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crimsononsnow · 4 months ago

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The Owlery Farewell

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

quillkiller oneshot

The late afternoon sun dipped low, bathing the Owlery in hues of gold and amber. Its ancient stone walls, weathered by years of wind and rain, glistened faintly as though they carried the weight of a thousand untold secrets. The rustling of feathers and the soft, occasional hoots of owls filled the circular room, punctuating the stillness. Standing near the tallest window, Rita Skeeter gazed out at the horizon, her quill poised but idle in her ink-stained fingers. Her notebook lay open in her lap, its pages filled with half-formed thoughts and fragmented sentences. For the first time, the words refused to come. Rita Skeeter, ever sharp-tongued and quick-witted, found herself at a loss. It wasn't the empty page that held her captive—it was the ache in her chest, a feeling she couldn't quite name. Behind her, the sound of boots against stone made her shoulders stiffen. She didn't turn. She already knew who it was.

"Still scribbling secrets, Skeeter?" Bellatrix Black's voice cut through the quiet like a blade. Sharp, confident, and yet laced with something unspoken. Rita smirked faintly, her eyes still fixed on the sky. "Always," she replied, though her tone lacked its usual bite.

Bellatrix leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, her wand dangling loosely in her hand. Her dark hair, wild and untamed, framed a face that was usually a mask of haughty defiance. But now, something softer lingered in her eyes, an emotion she would never dare to name. They watched each other in silence, the space between them heavy with tension and unsaid words.

"You're leaving soon," Rita said at last, breaking the stillness. Her voice was steady, but the faint tremor in her hand betrayed her. Bellatrix shrugged, her gaze sliding toward the window. "My parents expect me home for the summer," she said, her tone deliberately casual. "There's... business to attend to." Rita's mouth twitched into a wry smile. "Business," she echoed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You mean Voldemort." The name hung in the air like a curse. Bellatrix flinched, her jaw tightening as she turned sharply toward Rita. "You don't understand," she snapped, her voice low and dangerous. "You never could. This is my world. My family's world. I don't get to choose." "That's rubbish," Rita shot back, her words sharp and unyielding. "You've always had a choice, Bellatrix. You're just too afraid to make it."

Bellatrix's knuckles whitened around her wand, her eyes blazing with fury. For a moment, it seemed she might lash out, but instead, she let out a harsh laugh. "You think it's that simple? To walk away from everything? From everyone who's ever mattered?" "Yes," Rita said firmly, rising to her feet. Her green eyes locked with Bellatrix's, unflinching. "If it means not losing yourself, then yes, it is that simple." Bellatrix's defiance wavered, her expression softening for the briefest of moments. Her hand fell to her side, her grip on her wand loosening. "You don't know what it's like," she whispered. "To carry the weight of a name like mine. To stand at the edge of something dark and know it's pulling you in." Rita took a step closer, her voice softer now. "Then fight it. Fight it before it swallows you whole."

The silence stretched between them, taut and fragile. An owl fluttered down from the rafters, landing on the ledge beside Rita. She reached out absently to stroke its feathers, her gaze never leaving Bellatrix. "Here," Rita said, pulling a folded piece of parchment from her pocket and handing it to the owl. "Take this to my mum." Her voice steadied, but her eyes shone with a fierce determination as she turned back to Bellatrix. "I'm going to keep writing. I'm going to keep fighting. And maybe one day, you'll read something I've written and remember this moment. Remember that you had a choice."

Bellatrix's lips parted, as though she wanted to speak, but no words came. Instead, she stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Her hand brushed against Rita's for the briefest of moments, the touch so fleeting that Rita almost doubted it had happened at all. "Goodbye, Skeeter," Bellatrix said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. There was no malice in her tone, only a quiet resignation. Then she turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing softly as she disappeared down the spiral staircase. Rita watched her go, her chest tight with something she couldn't name. The sun was dipping below the horizon now, casting long shadows across the stone floor. She turned back to the window, the cool evening air brushing against her face, and picked up her quill. This time, the words came. They flowed easily, raw and unfiltered, spilling onto the page like a confession. It wasn't just a story—it was a truth she needed to tell, even if no one ever read it. As the last light of day faded into twilight, the Owlery grew darker, but Rita didn't stop writing. Somewhere, a bell tolled, marking the close of another day. But for her, this wasn't an ending. It was a beginning.

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marinaiguess · 2 years ago

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I've always imagined a small one shot of Sonic and Blaze having a playful sparring match, I'd love to see your take on that idea (if you want to ofc) x

ahem. this took. 7 months. im so sorry, hope this is worth the wait lol. i hate action sequences but i'm always up for a good challenge, amirite? I'll upload this on ao3 once i'm able to:/ The ending was inspired by a @hishighnesstheprincess fic that I absolutely love. Read it afterwards so that you don't get spoiled:)

playing with fire

warnings: violence, blood

It was a while since the last time he enjoyed a nice and calm afternoon like this one, surrounded by nature and its beautiful creations, like the picture-perfect painting across the sky, the colors seeping through the canvas, staining the grass, the trees, the field.

The table they were all gathered around.

He took a breath and allowed his lungs to be filled with the air that had previously been knocked out of him due to the realization that dawned upon him while looking at his friends.

That wasn’t a regular occurrence, he mentally noted, while the sound of laughing in the background was drowned out by his own thoughts. It wasn’t often that he felt overwhelmed, but of course, when he did, it was because of his friends; only they had the power to knock him down. Yet, what was also quite rare, was them gathering together like they did today, especially without being interrupted by any mad scientists and their evil plans.

A smile was adorning his expression, a small one, directed at no one in particular, as he looked into the distance, behind the pink hedgehog that kept on talking about her adventures.

His ear flicked as he picked up a different sound; a foreign one. He whipped his head to the source of it just to witness another rare moment; Blaze the cat laughing.

Well, it was more of a giggle because she tried her best not to be loud (and was successful) but that didn’t mean they didn’t hear her or that they didn’t see the joy that was written all over her face.

Sonic exhaled softly at that. The fact that Blaze was here, in his world, was a scarce incident on its own. And he was very happy that she was here, that she visited them, deciding to leave her world, lay off from her duties to relax and have some time for herself. On top of that, she chose to spend that free time, with them, with her friends. She sure has come a long way; how could he not be happy?

Gold eyes met his and he soon realized he had been staring at her, judging by the confusion prevalent on her features.

His own dumbfounded face was quickly replaced by a nonchalant and reassuring grin before he turned his attention towards Amy who was talking about… the chao races?

Okay, so, he might have been a little too happy about Blaze, but he didn’t like that everyone else could tell. He’d always hide his emotions quite well and he never enjoyed others knowing how he felt (maybe he never enjoyed dealing with his emotions himself) but in this specific case, something felt off. Out of control.

“Mr. Sonic?” Cream had called out a little while after Blaze’s arrival, when she had been taken away by Amy who was too excited and impatient to show her a photo album she made with Cream’s help.

“Hm? What’s up kiddo?”

“You seem very happy today!”

“Well, I am happy! We’re having a tea party!” he bent down to squish her cheeks, Cream escaping his attacks, giggling. “Isn’t that great?” He smiled widely.

“Yeah, but that’s not what I mean.”

A tilt of his head was enough to make her elaborate her statement and thoughts.

“You’ve been smiling…a lot. From the moment Blaze visited!”

“Huh.” He scratched the back of his quills nervously. “I didn’t realize.”

“You must have missed her.”

He tried to intervene but didn’t have enough time to.

“I’ve missed her too, so I understand! You like Blaze just like I do.” She smiled.

Sonic kept smiling, ignoring whatever weird feelings this conversation had brought up. “Of course, I like her, Cream. Same goes for you and all my friends.” He explained, refraining from opening his heart too much, his face was betraying him enough as it was.

“That’s very nice of you Mr. Sonic!”

If Cream could tell Sonic was just a tiny bit giddier than usual, then Amy would too and who knows who else, so that was a little worrisome. Especially if Vanilla had caught up, then, yep, he wouldn’t be able to save face anytime soon.

His shoulders relaxed a bit when he reminded himself that he didn’t actually care about all that because he didn’t need to have a justification for his delight, he didn’t need a reason to be happy for his friends. Why was he even so worried about it in the first place?

“So, yeah, the maze part was crazy but taking those guys down? Real trouble.” Amy’s storytelling was abruptly cut off by her groaning. “Man, just the memory of it gives me a headache.” She said closing her eyes and massaging her temples to soothe the pain. She really got into the story, huh?

Both Cream and Blaze looked a little taken aback by the whole story and Sonic couldn’t blame them; either of them is used to dealing with robots or having these types of adventures on a daily basis just like he did. In fact, part of why Blaze was here to begin with was that there was no threat in her world, she told them that much. Which was ironic at best, since his own world never seemed to be at peace, they were somehow always fighting against mad scientists who only caused chaos—

Sonic bit his lip as he remembered the one thing that almost destroyed them all: the metal virus. He glanced at Cream as the image of her broken form, of her lifeless eyes, inched into his brain, the way she had lost all hope the moment she lost her mother. It was painful to recall, (guilt still taking the best of him sometimes) but he couldn’t imagine how Cream was handling the aftermath of that—now gone—threat or how hard it would be to handle any other hurdle that life threw their way after that one.

Even now, she looked hesitant, sinking into her chair slowly until half of her face was hidden. Sonic raised a brow at that. Was she…scared?

“Amy…” she squeaked, everyone’s attention now on the youngest of the group, “…that sounds like real trouble. What if you couldn’t beat the robots and get out of there in time?”

Amy cringed visibly at that, Sonic’s eyes widened in surprise and the two hedgehogs were silently sharing the same thought. They knew where this question, this hesitation, was coming from, why Cream was afraid of them losing.

Because they almost did, not too long ago.

But Blaze didn’t know what their shared glances meant and didn’t care to understand at that moment as she only paid mind to Cream’s visible fear, carefully rubbing her shoulder without thinking twice about it.

“I’m sure it was nothing spectacular.” She smiled reassuringly. “They had it under control. They’re both safe, see?”

Cream peaked at the hedgehogs, gaze finally settling on the blue one, on the famous hero who everyone relied on. Sonic’s eyes flicked between the people who were staring at him, Cream and Blaze, like they were waiting for him to confirm that they were indeed safe. Because he was Sonic, he had to be the one who could make that confirmation, right? He was expected to.

The world always fell on his shoulders.

But as the thoughts multiplied and the words dried out in his slightly open mouth, Blaze took it upon herself to take his role.

To help him carry the weight he so desperately tried to carry alone.

And he was thankful for her help.

“They’re right here with us.” She tilted her head closer to the bunny in an attempt to gain her attention, to allow her eyes to communicate whatever else she wanted to add but wasn’t able to say through words.

Cream gulped and nodded slowly, registering what she meant.

“Besides,” Blaze bent backwards. “I didn’t lie before. I’m sure these robots were nothing spectacular. I could have taken them all down by myself no problem.” She smirked cockily as she crossed her arms.

Maybe this was her trying to sound confident enough to convince Cream that no one was really in danger but the way her lips curved upwards, made Sonic think otherwise.

Especially when she popped one eye open to directly look at him.

He knew this was a challenge.

So, he acted without thinking twice. He got up and walked next to Blaze who hadn’t flinched an inch despite having heard him alright. His footsteps on the grass were all that could be heard along with the occasional howl of the wind because everyone else had gotten silent. Was it the look on his face that caused this? Was the excitement too obvious? He wasn’t sure and he didn’t really care.

“So,” he speaks once he reached her side, hands planted on his hips. “you’re sure you could have taken them all by yourself?”

“Oh yeah, I’m most certain.”

Getting cocky, are we? “Then, I don’t think you’ll have trouble taking me down?” Sonic countered, jabbing his chest with his thumb.

“Where did this come from?” Blaze side-eyed him, unable to fully conceal her grin.

“I just wanna see how high you think of yourself princess.”

Blaze scrunched her nose at the nickname. “Are you suggesting we fight?”

“I wouldn’t call it a fight.” He crossed his arms. “Battle is a better word, to decide who is the…better one.”

“We did ‘battle’ the first time we met, Sonic, and it ended in a tie.”

“Yeah, but I was going easy on you. Right now, I can win no problem.” He closed his eyes as if that settled it, with a satisfied grin plastered on his face.

“Oh, a bit overconfident, aren’t we?”

“Uhhh, guys?” Amy interjected, suddenly feeling like she was covered in cold sweat. “You don’t have to—”

“Oh, don’t worry Amy, we just need to settle this, it won’t take too long.” He popped one eye open as he bent closer to his challenger. “Right, your highness?”

Blaze inched closer as well, almost making Sonic stumble back. Thankfully, almost. “If you keep calling me that, it certainly won’t take too long, yes.”

Sonic stepped back as his grin widened, cocking an eyebrow at the equally overconfident cat. “Huh.” He exclaimed in amazement. To say he was excited with how things have turned out would be an understatement.

“Whatever you say—” he bowed, still holding her gaze, “your highness.”

His added wink only infuriated Blaze more. She jumped out of her chair, not wasting another look on the hedgehog as she headed towards the open field not that far from where they had been spending their afternoon. Sonic snaked his hands between his spines before following her, his attitude exuding relaxation and assuredness.

They took their positions opposite to one another, a good 10 feet apart. They locked eyes as they prepared themselves, taking the same pose without really intending to do so. Besides, everyone knows bending your left leg forward and stretching your other one far back is the best way to get a good head start before boosting.

“Hey Ames, do me a favor and count down from 3 for me.” Sonic spoke, without taking his eyes off of Blaze.

Amy on the other hand, flicked her eyes between the two of them, waiting for either one to back off. Her hesitation was short lived though, upon seeing as none of the two moved away or towards each other. They were really waiting for her. So, she gave up and did as she was told, grabbing ahold of Cream’s hand to direct her behind her. Yet Cream tilted her head on the side to be able to look at the oncoming fight.

“Fine,” Amy sighed. “3, 2…1.”

Blaze was the first to get on the offensive, wasting no time to lunge forward, her fist directed right at Sonic’s face. Sonic understood her intentions and knew he would be able to outpace her, so he stayed there with a confident smirk plastered across face, waiting to evade at the last moment.

To his detriment, his confidence was predictable.

Blaze retrieved her fist and began sliding on the ground, aiming at his feet with her own. Sonic’s eyes narrowed at the incoming danger as he jumped just before she reached him, avoiding Blaze by a very small margin.

Using the momentum from his leap, he turned around with his right leg raised, aiming right at her, only for his kick to be blocked by Blaze’s arm.

How did she—?

Her other arm charged a punch at him which he easily avoided by landing a backflip. It seemed like he didn’t have much room for mistakes. But he didn’t have to worry about that if he started his offence right now.

And that’s what he did.

He boosted off at her direction with a very clear target. If his smirk had faded away, it returned in no time, especially when he witnessed Blaze dash as well, right at him. Just at the moment they were ready to crash, Sonic dodged by side-stepping, readying his kick at the back of her head.

What he was unable to predict however, was Blaze’s powerful kick that she delivered before he even had the time to comprehend her moves; bending her body forward and pirouetting with an outstretched leg, sent him flying at the bark of a nearby tree. He heard it crack as he slid down, his hand bracing his abdomen in an attempt to soothe the sudden pain that he definitely hadn’t accounted for.

He closed his eyes as he winced, trying his best to pull himself together as quick as possible but that was until something else caught his attention. A hunch. As if on instinct, he ducked, only to witness a punch landing just above his head, one which left another crack on the tree trunk behind him. The severity of it was obvious and Sonic found himself to be very lucky that this specific hit didn’t land on his face.

He shook his head and faced forward again, straightening his legs and launching himself at her feet with his own, using his entire body weight without thinking twice about it, giving little time to his opponent to react.

Next thing he heard was a thump. He craned his head to find Blaze lying on her back.

That was it. That was his chance to deliver the finishing blow. This fight was truly fast after all.

But just as Sonic readied his attack, Blaze raised her legs and gained significant momentum, using it to do a handstand and then land with a back flip. Her attempt to also kick Sonic in the process was in vain, as he was able to evade the hit this time around.

Well, to be fair, he wasn’t expecting such a recovery. Maybe she even faked that fall to trap him. He grinned at that thought as he playfully wiped his nose, watching her back away from him, possibly planning how she should attack next.

“Oh, I see you’ve gotten faster.”

A smirk spread across her lips as she skidded to a halt by planting one hand on the grass, her free arm stretched outwards in an attempt to keep her balance. When she sat up straight, still wary of her opponent’s movements, she turned her head to face him while the sunset in front of her illuminated just the outline of her features with a bright orange hue, making them glow like the flames on her palm.

“Or you are just too slow.” She said as he was approaching dangerously.

Sonic stumbled mid-air, feeling as though time had slowed down and for a short span of time, for a mere millisecond, he was overtaken by hesitation, unable to directly land the punch on Blaze and he didn’t know why. Maybe it was her comeback or that damned smile that accompanied it, but despite it all, it was exactly what Blaze needed to duck out of the way unharmed. Sonic’s fist met the ground not long after, eyes widening as he felt blood rush to his cheeks all of a sudden.

Battle. He reminded himself as he realized he had his back turned-on Blaze (bad decision), quickly side-stepping to narrowly avoid the incoming attack he had predicted with ease.

Of course, it’s getting hot, he tried reasoning with himself, I’m running around trying to take her down, I knew it would not be easy, she’s tough. He grinned at the ground before getting up and turning around, ready to keep up the fight.

And that’s the fun part of it.

“I can’t catch a break, can I?” he flicked his nose, grinning at her.

Blaze answered with a smile of her own, using her flames to boost herself towards Sonic at unprecedented speeds.

Sonic blocked her attack with an air cancel, a trick that helped him use the air to his advantage, by raising dirt from the floor with his feet. That would be enough to mess with Blaze’s sight for a little while. But as he was upside down, not yet stopping his “attack”, his head was momentarily close enough to the ground to notice fire shooting from underneath Blaze’s shoes. It was minimal and if he weren’t in that position at that time, he wouldn’t have noticed it. So, he steadied himself by landing on both his feet.

He witnessed Blaze shooting upwards with her makeshift rocket shoes, in an attempt to avoid the debris. This gave him a few seconds to think about it as he relaxed his body, the realization hitting him like a brick.

“You’re holding back?” he asked, not sure if she heard him.

She hadn’t used her flames to attack him or even restrict him yet. She was giving him a hard enough time as it was so maybe it was because she knew her powers wouldn’t contribute much to stopping him or slowing him down. But she also knew he liked to play with fire. If anything, he was concerned.

Blaze kept looking at him, the hint of a smile she wore until now suddenly gone as she extinguished her flames and used gravity to her advantage by doing another back flip. As she descended, she aimed a kick right at Sonic, clearly never letting her guard down. In order for him to be able to block the attack, Sonic had to use both his arms and even that got him pushed a couple feet back, planting both his feet firmly on the ground so as to prevent his fall.

A series of kicks and punches followed all of which were avoided by Sonic. Though, each time he evaded, he found it increasingly harder to get out of the way in time for the following attacks.

“Does it look like I’m holding back?”

Well, she was right to an extent. She wasn’t holding back physically. Heck, here he was hyperventilating, trying his best to keep his breathing in check.

However, he smiled, closing his eyes.

“Where’s the fancy fire then?”

Blaze blinked, lowering her fists, just a tiny bit. “I don’t need to use fire to defeat you.” She said expressionless.

It reminded him of that cold-blooded girl he met a long time ago. That expression; her way of hiding her emotions. Sonic didn’t like that. He didn’t like what that implied. Blaze was one with her flames; without them, she wouldn’t be the same. Her being hesitant to use it in this battle only meant that she hadn’t fully come to terms with her powers yet. Or even worse, she was afraid that she might hurt him and that’s why she was holding back.

“Come on Blaze, give me everything you’ve got.” He winked, smirking at her and her surprised face.

----------------------------

A punch sent him flying backwards. His eyes widened in realization when he saw what was in front of him and managed to curl himself into a ball to minimize the damage from the unavoidable hit. When he hit the rock, he couldn’t do anything but allow his body to land on the sand, thankfully a few feet away from the sea water.

The damage wasn’t that bad. But it didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt.

He kneeled on the ground as he coughed, holding one hand around his abdomen to support himself.

He looked up through blurry vision to find his opponent looking back at him, waiting for him to get up.

That look… A sense of déjà vu washed over him.

He suddenly recalled their last battle. The one where he was worried about her holding back.

He huffed a short inaudible laugh at that while mustering whatever energy he had left to stand on his feet, wiping his sweat with his forearm. He remembered how, if he were being honest, that he himself was also holding back during that battle, lest he hurt her.

The situation right now was similar, at least on his part; he was still holding back against her. Then again, he always had. From the very first moment they met.

But she wasn’t. And she was more ruthless than the first time they got into that fight.

She was burning everything around her to the ground, leaving nothing but ashes in her wake. No hint of fear could be seen on her emotionless expression. No remorse. No hesitation.

Her dark eyes were piercing through him, as he was focused on her glowing form, glowing brighter, more fiercely than the sun rising behind her. The sun that overtook the darkness, that started painting everything beyond the hills, except for her form, as her fur remained white, that unfamiliar color on her which he had learned to despise already. He wished the sun had the power to paint her fur back to its normal color. He wished her real self, the one that wasn’t affected by the fake Sol Emeralds, would come back to him.

And Sonic silently wished, if nothing else, that she would hold back against him, even a tiny bit, just like she had back then.

Or that he could find it in him to not hold back himself.

Sonic forced a grin as he spat out blood. “Come on Blaze, give me everything you’ve got.”

He was always up for a good challenge.

#A LONG ONE #3.7K WORDS LETS GO #hope you like this guys:)#why am i so nervous help #why did it take me so long lmao #sonaze #sonic the hedgehog #blaze the cat #sonic #sth #sonic idw #fanfic #fanfiction #sth fanfic #sonic fanfiction #amy rose #cream the rabbit

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dirty-bosmer · 2 years ago

Text

The very talented @sheirukitriesfandom came up with this writing game. Thank you so much for the tag! I'm finally recovered enough from my trip to take a stab at all the tag-games I've missed. It was both nice and a bit challenging to revisit my old works. Forgot a lot of what I had written, honestly 😅

Tagging: @atypicalacademic @justafoxhound @elavoria @kookaburra1701 @nuwanders @thequeenofthewinter @skyrim-forever @gilgamish @chennnington @throughtrialbyfire @thana-topsy @mareenavee @paraparadigm @ladytanithia @nine-blessed-hero @wispstalk @sylvienerevarine @expended-sleeper

And as always no pressure if you're not feeling it. Also consider yourself tagged if you see this and are interested in joining in :D

The rules are to share:

A line from your fic that makes you laugh

lmao I don't think humor is a strength of mine, so I combed through very briefly and pulled at the first thing I saw that made me snort.

Mathieu swore he'd had conversations of more substance with mudcrabs while five brandies deep, and yet it always fascinated him how little his Speaker could say in so many words.

(from The Illusionist Part 2)

A line from your fic that makes you sad

If she could hold the quill steady, she would write it ten times over. She’d say, I miss doing nothing with you, being nothing but with you. If nothing were as blissful as those hours spent beside you, perhaps I wouldn’t fear it so.

(from The Illusionist Part 2)

A line from your fic you're proud of

The Midyear sun blazed high and proud above Kvatch. Below, the city scrambled on. Another Midyear, another Middas. Magnus rose, its ascent resolute.

(it's actually the first line of The Illusionist Part 1, and it has surprisingly remained unchanged since my first iteration of the fic??? Unfathomable to me lol)

A line from your fic you think could have been better

Only one? 😅 Truth is, I'm perpetually editing old chapters, so I could pretty much insert the entire series of The Illusionist here.

A line from your fic that makes you want to punch a character

Lucien gurgled or perhaps chortled, then spat out a mouthful of blood. “I thought you preferred silence, dear Sister.”

(Lucien sucks so baaaaddd and I get progressively meaner to him, sorry. Kinda hate what I've done to him, but he is a loser and someone has to bully him, and the burden so happened to fall upon me 🤷‍♀️)

A line from your fic that makes you go 'aww'

Nim's hair draped around his face, shielding him from the dancing flames of the brazier, and when Raminus closed his eyes, she was the only light that existed in all of Mundus, brilliant and blinding.

(Crying about my nerd Raminus Polus, what's new.)

A line from your fic that's full of symbolism

The shop windows taunt him from his periphery, but he will pass one hundred more if that’s what it takes to prove his presence. His footfalls are heavy. He persists, learns how to walk again, how to exert his body upon the world if only to feel it press up against his feet.

(From Treacle)

A line from your fic that contains an Easter egg

“If we’re such pious servants, then why does Nana always speak of the Daedra as though she drinks with them every Fredas?”

From Slither and Writhe. It is referencing an OC of mine so idk if its really an easter egg, but I just think it's funny how the protagonists in TES games go about collecting daedric artifacts like they're halloween candy.

A line from your fic that's shocking

And if her mother had only been more inquisitive about her work, she’d know the difference between the stench of decay and fouled wounds and that of flesh mending itself together beneath fresh stitches and salves that Sylawen lathered on diligently with deft fingers everyday.

(from Slither and Writhe. A lot of lines in that fic are kind of er... gross 😅 It is about a necromancer, after all)

A line from your fic you want to talk about more

Abrim is gilded in the torch flame. Every part of him is a different shade of brown such that Scar-Tail needs only look at him in flickering light to feel he’s travelled all of Tamriel’s woods, seen every kind of tree there is.

Ramble time. While trying to describe this character, I was thinking of my uncles, how dark their complexion, how different the shades of brown are in their skin, their eyes, their hair. Growing up as a latina I used to find brown so boring and so common because I was preoccupied with a set of beauty standards that women in my community paraded about, only to realize they were full of internalized colorism :D Anyway, that was a decade ago, and there's this line I remember reading, and I have no idea where from— somos el color de la tierra, we are the color of the earth, and I think more people should be romanticizing brown because it's so diverse and so beautiful 💕

#tag games

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true-blue-sonic · 3 months ago

Note

Also, Knuckles outright calls Silver rude in Rivals 1:

Silver: He certainly knows how to run, I'll give him that... Hey, you there! Did you see that guy carrying something strange? Knuckles: Actually... He has this weird camera that changes things into cards... Wait a minute... Who are you? Silver: What'd you say!? How did he get a hold of it? Knuckles: You...! What are you mumbling about? Silver: Got no time to explain it to someone like you... See ya! Knuckles: "Someone like me?" Hey, I'm Knuckles! Haven't you heard of me? How rude! Asking questions without having the gall to introduce himself! Silver: Like I said before, I don't have time to deal with you right now. See ya! Knuckles: You little... Get back here!

And in Rivals 2, Silver tells Knuckles to shut up in Knuckles' storyline, to Rouge's displeasure:

Eggman Nega: Well, well. Looks like you acquired my Emerald Detector. Now, what else do you require? Knuckles: We still can't find the Master Emerald and I think you know where it is. Eggman Nega: Maybe I do and maybe I don't. Knuckles: Stop these games, Eggman! Silver: Shut up, Knuckles. I need to talk to him so just get out of here! Rouge: Hey, watch your mouth, kid! Don't take that tone with us! Eggman Nega: Silence! All of you! I'll give you all a REAL reason to be upset!

I stopped reading IDW after issue 64, in part because I was incredibly done by Silver's portrayal in the comics. On the one hand, there's just a problem of bad writing: things like the girls not picking up on Duo's "I couldn't save Silver and now he's dead :(" two seconds later "I was going to get help!!!!! D:", or the writers seemingly completely forgetting Whisper has a recorder in her mask that thus goes entirely unmentioned, which got kinda handwaved in a later issue. But an IC Silver would not have folded to Lanolin like he did: I would say Silver only cares for the authority of people who've proven to be on the same page as him, like Blaze or Espio. What has Lanolin done to prove that? She picks Duo's side immediately, and Silver just rolls with it without arguing with her about it and goes off to sulk instead of being proactive (I guess maybe as a callback to '06? Except in '06 Silver's entire worldview got rattled for a bit there by Amy, which issue 63 really did not achieve to that level). Silver's a proactive guy! He doesn't sit around waiting for troubles to come, he actively goes and does his best to solve them. And it's also just dumb things like issue 64 showing him all clumsily tripping or his quills poking out of the bush all obviously, or him (aka Meteor Smash guy) being unable to catch Duo in a one-meter fall. I agree with the fact that it's frustrating to see; it feels like Silver just does not get taken seriously.

And on that topic, a lot of Silver in the comics seems to be written to be very... cutesy, I think is a good way to describe it. Very uwu baby cinnamon roll, I've used as terms before too. Must protecc him, he's got no social skills because everyone in his future is dead and he was always alone and he's never been rude to anyone ever. Except the problem with Silver as a character is that he's not meant to be cutesy, I would argue, and the previous sentence is rife with misconceptions. He's got a deep-ass voice in Japanese and uses rude language and rude gestures up the wazoo, he's 100% down to murder someone to solve his problems and save the world, in the Rivals games he's got an insult or just general obstinateness ready for basically everyone, in the fourth and fifth line of his intro in '06 he mentions other people in Crisis City and both Rivals games show what a jerk he can be... That's really not uwu baby cinnamon roll material, in my opinion. What could arguably be cutesy is his naivety, but then indeed what Siggie describes: him not realising that not everybody shares the knowledge he has and sees things in the way he does. Not whatever IDW is pulling with him. But as for a solution, I don't know; if the writers think Silver is inherently meant to be a cutesy socially awkward li'l guy, I presume that's what they'll keep writing him as. To that end, I hope the Sonic Channel medias and the video games will keep providing a more in-character Silver!

What’s your thoughts on idw silver, I personally think he is ok but I feel like the idw comic didn’t really do very well with his character.

I can't say I like him... at all.

American Sonic media already has a history of needless and quite frankly terrible changes, whether made out of ignorance, xenophobia towards Sonic Team/SoJ, some vague, made-up sense of marketability, or all three. So, I'm already wary of media like that. They always change fundamental aspects of Sonic's appeal and are supremely unenjoyable to me as a result.

To stay on track here - why do I dislike IDW Silver? The main reason is that I think he's portrayed as way too polite and nice to people. He has no backbone. It's as if he was just based off of popular fanon or Archie comics, rather than the source material. I don't blame anyone for thinking Silver is some timid, polite sweetheart if fanon and IDW/Archie is all they have consumed, but I'm doing my best to dispel that notion for the sake of conquering misinformation. As a casual fan, it is understandable to have misconceptions, but I'm going to be much more harsh to official media.

I need to hammer home the fact that Silver is rude and often talks down to people. Sonic '06, Silver's debut game, showcases this very well. In an '06 cutscene, he talks down to Sonic after attacking him when his guard was down. The casual stride over to a wheezing, incapacitated Sonic kills me. The disrespect is fucking crazy.

In the level Flame Core, he acts haughty and superior about his abilities, even letting out a light chuckle at how pathetic the enemies are. And, a detail that is easy to miss, he doesn't even apologize for trying to kill Sonic.

That's not even mentioning the Rivals games being a wonderful source of Rude Silver™, where there are too many snide remarks to count.

IDW Silver is a telltale case of Silver's nuance being stripped so that he only represents one trait of his- that trait being "naivety." Silver's naivety is mentioned twice by Blaze in Sonic '06 because this is relevant to the story. Naivety is Silver's fatal flaw that leads to him being easily manipulated by Mephiles. However, his naivety isn't due to some innocent, childlike outlook on the world. Silver takes everyone at face value and always assumes people are telling the truth to him due to a lack of social skills. This is why, when Silver mentions something outlandish or unbelievable to people, he is confused why they don't believe him. This is shown in both Rivals 2 and the Sonic x Silver wallpaper cover story.

IDW seems to completely miss this nuance and conflates "naivety" with childlikeness and innocence. When you realize this, decisions put towards Silver's characterization in IDW makes a lot of sense - his hyperactive excitement and adulation over Whisper is a good example, but how he doesn't talk back to Sonic calling him "flatware" in Issue 8 particularly bothers me.

Realistically, Sonic would immediately get thrown into a wall if he said this to Silver.

Portrayals like IDW Silver are just so utterly confusing. How in the world does Silver get misconstrued this way, into something entirely opposite of what he is, in both fanon and official media? To be completely honest, it makes me frustrated. I want things to change and I feel like I have to speak up. I ended up writing an essay about Why Silver is Rude. I'm sorry anon.

#I think issue 8 suffers from the same problem as That One Cutscene in TSR between Sonic and Silver #it's got mischaracterisations on both sides: Sonic's depicted as a jerk and Silver as very meek and ~silly~#in English!TSR Sonic is *incessantly* pushy about getting Silver to race him with lots of banter and joking... which Silver just lets slide #and I'm here like 'Sonic‚ he's NOT INTERESTED! He's your friend‚ show some support for his worries??'#and on the other hand we have Silver 'doesn't understand trash talk' the Hedgehog......#in a game wherein he extensively trash talks other people in the dialogue snippets that play during racing. Make it make sense!#it's got that 'ignoring established characterisation to do something cutesy' vibe written all over it #Silver going gaga over Whisper in issue 8 and Sonic being all deriding about his lack of social skills there #and Silver not understanding Sonic's trash talking in TSR and Sonic huffing about how he doesn't get it #it's meant to show Silver to be a cute socially awkward little guy while he wouldn't act that way in either situation #and that's annoying! I'd rather have an IC Silver because that personality is the reason I like Silver #fans don't look #anti-idw sonic

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waywardstation · 2 years ago

Text

Quills

Ingo rushes Akari back to base camp after they both get poisoned in the middle of a massive mass outbreak.

I wrote this using a request specifically for my minutes drabbles, to write about Ingo ignoring a wound in order to help Akari. This is almost twice as long as a usual drabble, but I didn’t want to cut down what I had written haha

OR read here on AO3!

Enjoy!

————

Qwilfish toxin was not like sneasel venom.

Palina had told him the stories of how these territorial, toxic Pokémon were the bane of fishermen’s work down by the coasts, and sometimes caused trouble for herself and Iscan, but nothing he heard was as real and frightening as first-hand experience. This was only becoming more apparent to Ingo as he hurried across the slippery terrain of the coastlands, rain beating against his back with Akari in his arms.

First, he had learned that it was hard to notice when one had been injected with qwilfish toxin. Sneasel claws were thick and bulky, meant to hurt, and leave venom to seep into open gashes. Qwilfish toxin was different - stealthy, and designed to be injected undetected. Ingo certainly hadn’t noticed the bunches of fragile, needle-like quills sticking out of the length of his own leg, until he moved to grab Akari, and pull her out of the Qwilfish-infested water.

Second, qwilfish toxin boiled. Sneasel venom tingled like a static shock, locking up muscles and paralyzing them with a numbing sensation. But Qwilfish toxin blazed like fire once it seeped into its victim’s veins, and settled into their muscles - one wasn’t technically paralyzed, but became immobile out of the searing pain that would flare up with every movement. Ingo became well aware of this agonizing sensation as he forced his legs to keep moving, traversing the slope off the cliffside, leading down towards the shoreline.

Third, qwilfish toxin was much more potent. Sneasel venom was certainly strong on its own, but it was mostly meant to slow the victim down so the offending sneasel could catch up and land the final blow. Qwilfish toxin, Ingo was certain, was supposed to finish the job itself. Vertigo attempted to flip his sense off-balance as waves of nausea made his guts cramp, and cold, clammy sweat mixed with the rain as it ran down his aching neck. He felt lightheaded, and his cab wanted him to do nothing more than to drop down somewhere and pass out.

Fourth, qwilfish toxin worked much, much faster than sneasel venom; Ingo was sure it was meant to take victims out quick, not slow them down for a hunt, like sneasel venom. It didn’t help that he was straining himself and his heart, forcing it to unwillingly pump the spreading toxins through his body even faster, but Akari had started going downhill from the moment he pulled her out of the waters of Islespy Shore. They had just barely made it up the cliffside of Veilstone Cape before he had to start carrying her.

Ingo couldn’t remember the last time sneasel venom had made him feel this sickeningly disorientated. And he was a grown man, with a body that had become accustomed to shots of sneasel venom invading its system.

He was used to poison.

The smaller girl in his arms, fragile hands wrapped around his neck, was not. And she had received a much higher dose than he had, having been ambushed by the majority of the massive mass outbreak before he could reach her and warn about them. He’d say for every quill he took trying to get her out of there, (which was a lot), she took about two.

With his larger size, slight immunity, and comparatively lower dosage, he was confident he would be fine in the long run after this initial bout of nausea. He was not so sure about Akari, however.

It had been near impossible to correctly identify the barbed Pokémon crowded together in the waters in the middle of the dark coastal storm. Even he had not realized what they were until it was too late - something he found he was already beating himself up over.

While the situation itself had been dangerous, this aftermath could have been avoided had they simply brought a few pecha berries with them.

“Akari,” The warden slightly jostled the survey corps member as he felt her grip slipping around his neck. She was falling unconscious, and he couldn’t let her do that before he reached the Galaxy Team base camp. The toxin coursing through his system made his muscles flare with hot pain at the pressure she put against his arms, but he did his best to ignore it. “-Akari! Remain at the station with me, do not depart yet!”

To Ingo’s slight relief, Akari took a deep (though crackly) breath, readjusting her hands back around his neck for support. He held her closer in an attempt to shield her from the downpour with his own body; she was not moving to protect her face from the rain. “Still here-“

“We have almost reached our destination,” Ingo attempted to reassure himself just as much as he tried to reassure her. He tried not to look at the sheer number of broken barbs still sticking out of her various extremities; after feeling the burning sensation immediately intensify when yanking a couple of the quills out of his own thigh, he opted to leave hers in. He was afraid that attempting to remove them would only squeeze more toxin into her veins. However, he couldn’t avoid noticing the sickly pale color her skin was turning; he wondered if he was faring much better, appearance-wise. He certainly didn’t feel like it.

Vertigo lurched Ingo’s sense of balance off-center, and he stumbled for a moment to try and regain his bearings as he reached the bottom of the cliffside’s slope, making it to Castaway Shore. Oh, why had they gone so far away from base camp?

Akari did not tighten her grip as he stumbled, only making it harder for him to regain his balance.

A flock of murkrow, congregating together in an outbreak under the downpour of the storm, took to the sky as Ingo hurried past them. He counted himself lucky that they had not run into a more aggressive crowd of Pokémon yet.

“Akari,” Ingo attempted to get another response out of her as he pushed himself forward, fighting the urge to drop to the ground and pass out. Oh how his everything burned- “y-you have pecha berries stored back at base camp, correct?”

He knew she did, having seen the berries in her storage box earlier (Thank Arceus he had seen it; they didn’t have time for him to go randomly looking through tree branches - he wasn’t sure he’d be able to properly identify any berries anyways, with his strained vision). He just needed her to keep talking to him.

“I-“ The words caught as the walls of her throat stuck together, having found it difficult to swallow. Her eyes were screwed shut, in apparent pain. “-I don’t know. Ingo, I feel…really bad.”

“I know, I know,” The warden’s heart ached to hear her say those words like that - so weak. He was losing her to unconsciousness. He was not so sure she would wake up if she slipped into sleep, and that terrified him. “It’s alright, we have almost entered base camp. Please remain at the station.”

Akari did not respond as Ingo began climbing the hill towards the camp, now pushing against the wind; vertigo confused his directions and made it hard to even tell which way was up, and his muscles were starting to unwillingly stiffen out of pure fiery agony, but he had to keep going - the base camp was just at the top. They were so close.

Black crept into the edges of his blurred vision. If he passed out here, he wouldn’t get her the urgent attention she needed, and-

“Assistance, please!” The warden called out to the base camp’s stationed guard as he stumbled to the edge of the camp, a limp Akari unconscious in his failing arms. “Qwilfish…sh-she’s been poisoned-“

He doesn’t remember if he said anything else.

————

Ingo sat within the base camp’s dry tent, safe from the subsiding rain as he took his time chewing mashed pecha berries from a cup. Akari leaned close against his side, slurping from her own cup as she itched at the various bandages covering where venomous quills once buried themselves. It was strong wrapping - the stationed guard must have had to patch wounds frequently.

“Miss Akari, I’d advise against itching the injection sites.” Ingo warned as he swallowed down his mouthful - pecha berries certainly neutralized toxins fast, but the more he got into his system, the better. And eating distracted him from wanting to itch at his own bandages as well. “It will only lengthen the tracks to healing. You should have more pecha.”

“But it’s so itchy,” Akari complained, though she did her best to resist, turning to look into her own cup. She took another mouthful of mashed pecha and forced it down - her sore, swollen throat wasn’t the only thing making it hard to eat.

“Blech, when will everything taste normal again..?”

“I am assuming sometime tomorrow, if Miss Palina’s stories were correct.” Ingo glared down at his own cup, almost empty; the sweet flavor of the pecha berries had been replaced with a bitter, irony taste - a side effect of the toxins that would affect almost anything they ate or drank for the next chunk of hours.

Paired with nausea, it had been hard to keep much down (Ingo had retched after ingesting his first few pecha berries, but he didn’t know if that was from the intense vertigo, or the even more intense stress), but it was important they keep eating.

So many effects from qwilfish toxin- Ingo could see why they were the bane of fishermen now. Though he was sure no fisherman had ever taken twelve quills’ worth of toxin like he had…or twenty-three, like Akari had.

In a way, he had appreciated that Akari had been unconscious when the guard had properly removed the quills from her shoulder and limbs…he had come to in the middle of her procedure, the effects of the pecha berries finally neutralizing the toxins in his system, and it appeared like quite a painful process. When it came his turn to get his own remaining barbs removed from his leg, Ingo quickly learned it was just as painful as it appeared to be…which was a bit surprising to him, considering the smaller size of the quills.

“The rain’s slowed down,” Akari idly commented as she noticed the storm had slowed, the only dripping water remaining now trickling off the tent canopy, and collecting in pools. “That’s it for the outbreaks until maybe next month, I guess.”

Ingo immediately knew why it disappointed her.

“You still recorded a substantial amount of reports.” He reminded her, experimentally tapping his fingers against his cup - the movements still made his muscles ache, but it was nothing like the burning fire he had felt earlier. He hoped Akari wasn’t still in pain either. “You should be proud of what you managed to observe and write down. But for now, you need to rest and finish your pecha.”

“Yeah…” Akari huffed in a way that told Ingo she was still disappointed regardless. She leaned into Ingo’s side as she finished the last of the contents in her cup. He let her lean into his warm coat to escape the cold temperatures, putting a supportive arm around her so that she could fully relax against him. He was sure she was much more exhausted than she let on, after what she had been through.

But as he held her, grateful to know she was alright, he couldn’t help but worry over what could have so easily happened instead.

“Miss Akari,” The girl opened her tired eyes at the warden’s voice. “Today’s events should not have happened. They wouldn’t have happened with proper preparation. And…I am so glad you are alright, but I will not always be able to protect you. I apologize for the negligence on my part, but as for the qwilfish-“

“-I know, I know,” Akari croaked through the soreness and phlegm as she absentmindedly scratched at her bandages again. “I’m really sorry that this happened, and you had to carry me back like this, you shouldn’t have had to-”

A sigh broke up her speech as Akari recollected her thoughts.

“…I’ll start asking Mei and her munchlax about the Pokémon in the area, from now on.”

“Thank you.” The warden relaxed - he had been waiting to hear that for a long time.

Ingo had always encouraged Akari to talk to Mei and her munchlax at the start of massive mass outbreak events, to be aware of every group of Pokémon in the area - it’s always best to know all the tracks, to deduce which ones to take, and which ones to avoid. But Akari was always insistent that part of the fun was being surprised.

Well, finding out that the group of spheal congregating at the shoreline was actually a cluster of territorial Qwilfish had certainly been a surprise. And while Ingo wished this hadn’t been the thing that made her change her mind about talking with Mei, he just appreciated that she’d be doing it from now on.

“Though, I still need to do a lot of research on those angry spike balls,” Akari rubbed at her eyes, half out of frustration, half out of pain from a headache. “I don’t know if I want to get near one of those things again.”

“Let me know when you plan to come and complete your studies on them, and I would be glad to accompany you again.” Ingo offered without a moment of hesitation. “And next time, I’ll make sure we have pecha berries packed with us.”

#submas #Ingo #warden Ingo #Akari #pokemon Akari #pokémon legends arceus #pokemon legends arceus #Pokémon legends #pokemon legends #pokemon #pokemon fanfic #pokemon fanfiction #waywardstationfanfic

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quindolyn · 4 years ago

Note

can you write a james potter smut with a lot of choking, hair pulling and degradation :))

Patience Pays Off || James Potter

Word Count: 3834

A/N: I haven’t written in forever but this was for @randomoutsiders because it’s her birthday today. I know that I’m posting this after midnight her time but it’s still 9 here so I’m still celebrating Isa’s birthday. I love you baby. I’m still getting the hang of dom Jamie because in my head he’s my little sub and I have a hard time as seeing him as anything but the softest dom so this isn’t perfect

Warnings: rough sex, degradation, face slapping, spanking, dumbification, slapping reader’s tits, I think that’s it?

Masterlist

You were proud of yourself for making it through the entirety of the day without a major incident, since your first class of the day a fire had been burning in your belly, beginning as a mere flame before erupting into a blazing wildfire. Consuming you from the inside out.

The littlest thing made the fire burn hotter and brighter, the way James’ muscles flexed under his uniform as he walked through the hallways, shoulders back and arm around your waist like he owned the place.

You couldn’t help but whimper, catching a glimpse of his toned abdomen as he stretched his arms upwards, loosening himself up after being hunched over a desk all day. You felt your heart skip a beat in your chest watching his hand grip his quill, jotting down notes in his sloppy handwriting.

All you could think about was how many better things we could do with those hands, how wasted they were on Transfiguration.

You couldn’t bear the thought of having to sit through dinner, watching his hands flex as he shoveled food from his plate into his mouth, eyes trained on his lips as he licked them clean of the remnants of his meal. It sounded like hell, but when you’d tugged on his sleeve right before the two of you entered the Great Hall, murmuring into his shoulder about how you just wanted to go up to his dorm you’d been shot down.

Knowing why you were so desperate to escape up to his dorm James simply told you to be patient as he tugged you into the hall, quickly ushering you over to your usual seat with his best friends and roommates.

The whole endeavor had been just as hellish as it had sounded and by the time James was leading you up the stairs to his dorm, Remus and Sirius having disappeared to the Astronomy tower together.

As the door latched behind you you threw yourself at James’ chest, grappling for his shoulders as you smeared your forehead against his strong shoulder.

“Daddy,” You mewled, feeling your pussy throb at the very feeling of his body under your hands as you dug your fingers into his shoulders.

James’ deep chuckle sounded from above you and you could feel the vibrations against your head, “Someone’s needy,” His large hand reached up, his fingers combing through your hair before anchoring themselves up towards the root of your hair.

Using his hold on you he pulled your head backward so that you were forced to peer up at him, eyes wide and hazy from hours of being teased. Tears were beginning to well in your eyes as the sexual frustration of the day began to wash over you.

“M’not needy,” You whimpered, pushing yourself into him because even though you were pressed together it wasn’t enough. You needed more.

“No baby? Not needy?” He asked, cocking his head to the side as hazel eyes held yours, the very feeling of his eyes on you had you squirming.

“No Daddy, not needy,” You insisted.

What succeeded that was so abrupt that you almost didn’t register it but James lifted his hand, bringing it down against the side of your face, pulling a pathetic whine from you as the pain from his hand blossomed across your face. Instinctively you brought your hand up to soothe the warming flesh of your cheek but James caught your wrist before you could get too far.

“Don’t lie to me slut,” He growled, eyes darkening as he gazed down at you, said gaze hardening considerably,

“That hurt,” You sniffed but the boy paid you no mind.

“You’ve been needy for me all day, spent all of Charms hanging off my arm, ready to take my cock right there where everyone would’ve seen you. But you were too needy to even think about that.”

You felt shame pool in the pit of your belly at his statement, because no matter how much you’d try to deny it he was right. You would’ve let him take you right there if he wanted to. You could hear James’ voice ring through your head, Daddy’s needy girl.

“Am I wrong baby?” He asked almost like he could read your mind.

You shook your head but quickly remembered that you were to answer him verbally, “No Daddy, you’re not wrong.”

“There we go,” He cooed, bringing his thumb to the seal of your lips before pushing past it and letting his thumb rest against the flat of your tongue. You began sucking on the digit the second it landed on your tongue, humming around his finger as your eyes fluttered closed.

“Eyes open,” Your eyes were startled open as his rough fingers pinched at your clothed nipple through your uniform top and bra.

James was silent as he let his eyes drag over your form, face open and pleading, your chest was heaving from the effort it took not to collapse onto the floor, your legs looking like they were about to buckle as your trembling knees knocked against each other.

“Were you horny all day baby?” He wondered as though the idea had just dawned on him.

You nodded, James' finger still lodged in your mouth before he slipped it out, wiping it clean not on his clothes but the material of your skirt.

“On the bed bunny, and get all these pesky clothes off, I want my pretty whore naked for me.”

You scrambled to comply with his command, fingers clumsily pulling buttons through their respective holes before shrugging the garment off your shoulders allowing it to land somewhere on the floor around you. Your bra quickly followed and having already shed your footwear that left you only in the uniform skirt that had ridden up your thighs to the point where it was useless, barely even covering your panty clad pussy much less your ass.

You didn’t dare glimpse up at James to silently plead for help, knowing it would only ensure more mocking and teasing and you weren’t quite sure if you would be able to stand it. Instead, you stayed struggling with the difficult clasp at the top of the skirt’s zipper, slippery fingers struggling with the small hook.

“What? Can’t get it undone pretty baby?” James asked you from where he stood at the foot of the bed, you stood to the left of the mattress, brows furrowed as your head was dropped to examine the hook.

Your eyes flashed upwards, meeting James’ lust clouded gaze, hazel eyes trained on your face, he was doing little, if anything, to mask the sly smirk forming on his face from watching you fumble uselessly.

“It’s hard,” You insisted, quickly returning your eyes to the task at hand.

“I’m sure it is when you’re a dumb baby.”

“M’not dumb!” You raised your head in indignation, glaring at the boy who stood there as cockily as ever.

“What was that?” His tone was harder than it had been mere seconds ago, the cocky smile slipping from his lips, “Who do you think you are, talking back?”

“You called me dumb Daddy,” You mumbled pathetically, casting your head down as the boy approached you, meeting your smaller figure in only a few strides, “And m’not,” Your voice stalled as your eyes lifted to meet the somber look on James’ face, “M’not dumb.”

James’ following silence was worse than any physical punishment he could dole out to you, the longer you stood there, eyes locked on James’, the louder your heartbeat became in your head.

“Not dumb, huh? Then why is your skirt still fucking on? Did I say you could stop?”

At his words, your eyes dropped back down to the clasp where you found your fingers had stilled, almost shaking due to the intensity of his stare but no longer working on the task you’d been assigned.

Your fingers began to twitch again, trying to figure out the complicated clasp (though it was really only complicated thanks to the fog that had seemed to settle over your mind) but before you could make any progress the piece of fabric was torn from your waist with a force that had you reeling.

You could barely register the stinging along the skin of your waist and hips, all you knew was that there was a rush of slick flooding your pussy at James’ impressive show of strength.

“Fucking useless,” The dark haired boy murmured, “Have to do everything myself.” As the words tumbled from his lips his large hands found the mounds of your breasts, squeezing them to the precipice where pain overrode pleasure.

It took everything you had in you to not let your head tip back at the stimulation and let out the most pathetic whine. Knowing James would only use it as fuel was the only thing that kept you contained.

“Can get your panties off can’t you?” His right hand trailed down your form before encountering the waistband of said underwear, slipping a finger underneath it to pull the strap away from your hip before letting go and letting it snap back against your skin.

The contact stung but not enough for you to argue it with him, having wanted him all day you needed him, and you needed him now. Not even the wanting to voice your disdain for his action was going to get in the way of that.

“Yes, Daddy,” You murmured obediently, sliding the panties down your hips before stepping out of them. A swift pat on the ass had you scampering onto the bed where you positioned yourself on your knees, hands clasped in your lap as you awaited James’ instruction

“Look at you,” The brunette muttered, a strong finger catching under the curve of your chin and using it to direct your visage upwards towards his, “On your knees for me like you know you’re supposed to be.”

“S’because I’m your good girl,” You mewled, trying to lean into James’ touch, seeking the comfort that came with it but sensing your intentions James quickly pulled his hand back, leaving you desperate for him to touch you.

Your thirst for said touch was quickly satisfied when he gripped your jaw in his hand, pushing your cheeks together, your lips forced out into a pout. You were sure that the grip he had on you was melding bruises into the side of your voice but you couldn’t summon the energy to care.

You were embarrassed to admit that the rough hold James had on you sent a tingle down your spine, a familiar throbbing in your pussy.

“Gonna see how good for me you can actually be,” With those words James pushed your shoulders back onto the bed where you landed with a soft thud, straightening out your legs so that James could grab ahold of your ankles and wind them around his waist, pulling closer to you to trail his lips up the length of your torso. Leaving sloppy open mouthed kisses until he came to your tits, pinching each nipple between his fingers.

He delighted in the little whine you let out at that, using it as an invitation to roll the rosy buds between his fingers before palming your breasts, his large hands engulfing them. James groped the flesh before releasing your tits from his hold, an involuntary whimper leaving your lips at the lack of stimulation before he brought the palms of his hands down against them, smacking them harder than he had your face.

“Fuck,” You breathed, attempting to clench your thighs together but met by the resistance of James’ hips positioned between them.

“Watch your mouth,” James scolded absentmindedly as he returned his mouth to your body, sucking hues of yellow and blue and purple into the soft skin before soothing the marks with his tongue. This gentle touch immediately followed by him nipping harshly at the forming bruises was jarring, jarring enough to have you bucking up into his hips.

“Daddy please,” You’d had enough of the teasing touches and mocking smiles, you’d had enough of it all except for the one thing you really needed, his cock.

“Use your words slut, tell me what you want.”

“Want you please, want your cock. Need it so bad Daddy, so so bad,” You begged unabashedly, scratching your fingernails along his shoulder blades as you tried to pull him closer and closer to you.

“Desperate little cockwhore, want my cock so badly,” James grinned as he pushed himself off both you and the bed, peering down at your frame as he made quick work of the belt of his buckle. The clinking of metal was music to your ears and enough to have you propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him as he disrobed, shedding his clothes faster than any human reasonably should be able to.

Your mouth dropped open as James shed his last piece of clothing, inching his boxers down his muscled thighs until the length of his cock was able to pop out, escaping the restraints of the underwear.

Though he hadn’t been letting on, his prick was all you needed to see to know he was as turned on as you were, just much better at hiding it. A good 8 inches in length his cock stood proud and tall, already engorged with blood the tip was a pretty rose color that seemed to be darkening by the second and you couldn’t help but lick your lips at the very sight of it.

James took immense pleasure in watching your face as he worked his fist up and down his length, relishing in the way your eyes darkened considerably every time the head poked out the top of his fist.

“Hands and knees for me pretty slut,” You pushed yourself into the requested position, arching your back like you knew James would want you to, making sure to push your ass as far up into the air as possible.

You inhaled sharply as you felt the mattress shift, knowing that it was James settling in behind you you felt your pulse speed up, the anticipation was palpable as James smeared the leaking head of his cock over the globes of your ass.

“My whore, letting me rub my cock on her ass, making her all sticky and messy,” James punctuated his remark with a slap to your ass, though not the first time his hands had come down against you that night it for certain came with the most force behind it. You jolted forward at the impact before quickly sliding back into your position.

You could feel the blood rushing to your ass as it warmed under James’ hand which was now rubbing the afflicted area in attempts to soothe the skin. All efforts were in vain though when the hand was drawn back once again and brought down on almost the exact same spot.

This time he managed to pull a strangled gasp from you, the pain only contributing to the heat beginning to boil in the pit of your belly.

“Please,” You whined, arching your back even more and pushing your ass up against James, needing for him to relent and fill you up like you knew he could, “I’m done being patient I just need you.”

“Like you were ever patient, to begin with.”

“I was, I spent all day waiting for you to get up so you could fuck me and-”

Your bratty words had gotten you just what you wanted, James cut you off mid sentence as he pushed his cock into you, not even easing himself in he simply impaled you on his member. Hands found your hips and pulled you back to meet his so that your ass was still high in the air and he could be as deep inside of you as possible.

“Happy now you fucking cockslut? Happy now that Daddy’s fucking his pretty pussy?”

“Y-yes Daddy, your pussy” You stuttered out as the force of James’ thrusts dropped you down from your hands to your elbows, your hair tumbling in front of your face and effectively obscuring your vision.

This issue was quickly fixed as you felt James tug you up by your hair, using it to stabilize himself as he thrusted in and out of your ribbed walls. The friction his movement provided felt incredible, accompanied by the feeling of being full of his cock had the pleasure in your belly continuing to simmer.

If the distinctly wet sound of your pussy was any indicator you were absolutely soaked, James’ rough handling of you only reminding you how big and strong your boyfriend really was, how if he wanted to he could break you.

The pleasure in your belly was building quickly, with every sound of skin slapping against skin you felt your pussy ache, no matter that you were already stuffed full of his cock already. You needed more, you always needed more of him.

“Slutty bunny,” James grunted as he planted his hands on your hips to hold you into place as he lifted his hips, able to reach deeper and deeper inside of you, “Such a whore for my cock, drooling over me all day. Is this what you wanted baby? Wanted Daddy to fuck you?”

“Yes! S’what I wanted, feels so good.”

“Of course it does, cock sluts just need to be full of Daddy’s cock, is that what you want bunny?”

“Yes, Daddy!” You screamed as you felt yourself being pushed further and further towards the edge of orgasm. Dancing dangerously close to the precipice of pleasure, so close you risked cumming without permission, and after hours and hours of desperation, you couldn’t afford to disappoint him.

“Can feel you clenching around me slutty girl, you feel so fucking good around me, it’s like you were made for my cock.”

“I was Daddy, was made for your cock,” You were ready to say anything you needed to in order to get James’ permission to cum. Having abandoned all embarrassment, all shame, you didn’t care how much of a fool you’d make of yourself you just needed to cum.

“That’s right slutty baby, you wanna cum? You wanna cum for Daddy?”

His offer was enough to have you squealing if you weren’t gasping for breath with every powerful thrust, but you summoned the breath from within you to speak just a few simple words, “Yes please, wanna cum, let me cum please Daddy, have needed to cum all day I need it I need it please.”

Taking pity on you due to the desperation conveyed through your words James grunted his assent as he continued pistoning in and out of you. Eyes clenched as he felt your walls spasm around him, not wanting to cum quite yet.

You released a string of curses as you allowed yourself to tip over the edge of pleasure, putting up no resistance as it swallowed you in your entirety. You felt warmth rush through your every nerve as you became painfully aware of every sound and texture around you.

The sounds of James’ low moans, the feeling of the silky sheets against your swaying breasts, the heat that emanated from your partner’s palms which had found sanctuary on the small of your back. It was like it was all sharpened to maximize the pleasure already coursing through your body, the feeling of James still moving in and out of you was intoxicating as your vision began to white over.

The briefly sharpened senses faded, the noise in the room seemed to quiet to a low hum as you came down from your orgasm. But relief wasn’t what you were met with, instead it was James, still buried balls deep inside of you, allowing you to ride out your orgasm completely around his cock.

“Made such a fucking mess,” To prove his point James’ fingers dipped into the slick that had gathered at the apex of your thighs. Bringing the cum covered hand up he swiped the wetness off onto your back, adoring the way you looked covered in your own release.

“Thank you, Daddy,” You blubbered, “Thank you for letting me cum.”

“Not quite done bunny,” James expertly flipped you from your knees onto your back, eyes watching hungrily as your tits bounced, nipples still hard from him playing with them earlier, “Daddy hasn’t cum yet, thinking I’m gonna cum on your pretty tits, look so hot when they bounce for me.”

Once you were settled in on your back James resumed his movements in and out of your cunt, he too was quickly approaching his release and the feeling of you around him was absolutely heavenly.

“So fucked out for me baby,” James grunted as his right hand found your throat, long fingers curling around your neck easily before squeezing lightly, watching the way your eyes went wide, “Stupid slut’s dumb on my cock. Giving you what you asked for and you’re too dumb to even try to work for it, I’ve gotta do all the work.”

You whined out at his degradation, squirming underneath him as his assault on your cunt overstimulated you to the brink of a second orgasm.

“G-gonna cum again Daddy,” You warned him, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure overwhelmed each of your senses. Even the room reeked of sex.

“Are you there baby? Gonna cum twice before Daddy’s even cum once, greedy little thing,” James squeezed harder on your throat to the point where your mind became even fuzzier and a new sort of cloud settled over your mind. Just as the fuzz was beginning to get to be too much he released his hold on your throat.

Feeling himself approach orgasm James pulled out of your pussy, his hand quickly finding his cock and pumping it up and down as quickly as his wrist would allow him.

“Gonna cum on your tits baby, gonna cum all over your titties,” He moaned as he straddled your waist, continuing to work his cock in his hand.

“Fuck, m’gonna cum,” You closed your eyes as rope after rope of hot, white cum was shot across your tits, a few landing higher up on your body decorating your neck and one even reaching the side of your cheek.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl.”

You whined as the cum decorated your skin, making you even more pathetic looking than you already were.

“My slutty baby looks so pretty covered in my cum,” James smirked, collecting a line of cum off your chest on his finger before bringing the digit to your already parted lips. You dutifully sucked the digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it before he pulled it from the warm cavity.

“M’not slutty,” You insisted.

“No? What kinda good girl lets her Daddy cum all over her then?”

You were silent, too gone to even begin to pick that fight.

“That’s right like I said, you’re my dumb slut.”

tagging:@randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @pinkandblueblurbs @st0nesnglitter @thatvenusbabe @itsmentalillness @zzzfour @greenlyblue @emmaev @temporaryissue @gubleryum @msmb @miraclesoflove @velmasteas @drachoesimp @ashlovesthemarauders @artemis1orion @skaratjung @ava-brooke-blog1 @fairyprettygirly @ohwowimlonley @padfootswife @roonilwazlibswhore

#James potter x reader #James potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #marauders #marauders x reader #harry potter imagine #james potter #marauders fanfic #James potter smut

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dreamerstreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Never Meant To Be Yours

Pairing: Wilbur Soot x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] Wilbur Soot’s heart may belong to you, but yours? Well...

Warnings: some cursing (hi, Tommy) + one scene with slight violence

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: i realized that i hadn’t written a story that was strictly just angst, so... ta-da! this story takes place during the betrayal of l’manberg. inspired by both the events of the smp and also heathers: the musical. remember folks: pog through the pain <3

The campfire crackled and popped as Wilbur tossed another stick into the roaring flames, the embers leaping up and soaring into the starry night sky. His eyebrow twitched in annoyance as Tommy opened his mouth again.

“I’m fucking telling you, Wilbur. Just let me sharpen some sticks and I can win this war for L’Ma—”

Wilbur sighed, reaching over to rip the two branches from Tommy’s hands. “Tommy, if you pick up another set of sticks one more time, I will throw your discs into the fire.”

Tommy gasped, absolutely appalled that he would even suggest it. “Big man, you wouldn’t fucking dare—”

“No,” Tubbo said, smiling as he threw some more kindle into the fire, “I’m pretty sure he would.”

“Oh, he definitely would,” Fundy confirmed, his tail swishing this way and that as he looked on in amusement.

Tommy frowned, snatching another stick from the firewood pile and turning to glare at Wilbur from where he sat on his log. “Fucking fight me for them, you beanie bitch.”

Wilbur stared back, unimpressed and his patience wearing thin. “Tommy,” he said, “I’m not doing this, again.”

“Oh? Are you scared of my sharpness 1000 sti—”

Without even an ounce of hesitation, Wilbur grabbed Tommy by his arms and hoisted him into the air, his feet dangling dangerously close to the campfire. Fundy hooted as Tommy let out a piercing scream, Tubbo watching with wide eyes and a grin on his face as the flames licked at the soles of his shoes. “I swear to fucking god, Tommy,” Wilbur nearly shouted, “I am going to drop you into the fi—”

“You lot seem like you’re having fun.”

Wilbur froze, Tommy practically melting in his arms in relief. “Thank the lord, I’m saved,” he muttered.

You walked over to the group with a small wave and a bashful grin. In an instant, Wilbur had released Tommy, dropping him back onto the log as he walked over to you. The irritation seeped out of his bones as he took in the sight of your face, your eyes glowing in the golden light of the campfire.

“You’re finally here,” he said, leaning over to press a quick peck to your cheek before sitting once more.

You giggled, settling into the space next to him. “Hi.”

Beside you, Tommy made a gagging noise. “Jesus Christ, you guys are actually fucking gross. I would never do some shit like that.”

You gave him a quizzical look. “But Tommy,” you pointed out, “I thought you loved women. Don’t you want to date one, one day?”

“I do love women!” Tommy confirmed. “And I respect them! But you know me, [Y/N].” He patted his chest, smirking with pride. “I’m married to the grind.”

You tilted your head at him, bemused. “Are you, now?”

He nodded with full confidence. “Of course I am!”

“And you didn’t invite me to the wedding?”

Tommy shot you a condescending look. “The grind and I have been married far longer than you and Wilbur have even been together—hell, I’d say we’re a better fucking couple than you two!”

You feigned a gasp and turned to your lover with a dramatic pout. “Hey, Will? Do you hear that? Tommy says his marriage to the grind is better than our relationship.”

Wilbur paused for a moment, blinking, then shrugged. “Well, that’s an easy fix.”

Confusion flashed across Tommy’s face. “How?”

Wilbur stood up and turned to look at you, a serious expression crossing his face. “I suppose we’ll just have to get married.”

You felt your jaw drop, a wave of shock running through you as Tommy sputtered, “Pfft—what the fuck?”

Taking a deep breath, you sighed, rubbing your temples. “Will,” you said, “getting married in the middle of a war doesn’t exactly sound like the best idea you’ve had.”

“But Wilbur never has good ide—”

“Well,” Wilbur said, cutting Tommy off, “how else are we going to beat Tommy and the grind?”

You cocked a brow at him. “Are you implying that are relationship isn’t already stronger than Tommy’s with the grind? That we have to prove it?”

Now it was Wilbur’s turn to sputter. “No, uh, I’m just, um—”

“Will,” you said again, “you realize you have a son that we both care for, right?”

Wilbur paused. “Oh. Right.”

You could see Fundy groan from the other side of the campfire, hanging his head in his hands. “Jeez, thanks, dad.”

Wilbur flashed his son a bright grin. “You’re welcome, son.” He whirled, triumphantly pointing at Tommy’s face. “See? Do you and the grind have a physical representation of your love in the form of another living being?”

Tommy’s face contorted in disgust. “Wilbur, what the fuck, no. I’m a fucking minor.”

The smile dropped from Wilbur’s face like a dead fly. “Oh. Right.”

Tubbo let out a whistle, raising his fist in the air. “Aaand, scene! That’s a point for Tommy!” He shook his head apologetically at the general. “Sorry, Wilbur, but you lose.”

Wilbur looked offended. “How did I lose? [Y/N] and I have a Fundy!”

Tubbo’s expression shifted to something more serious. “Didn’t you know that I’m a lawyer, Wilbur? You don’t mess with the law.”

Fundy let out another groan as Tommy howled in delight. “Oh, no.”

“Big Law is back!”

It didn’t take long for the bickering to start up again, and you found yourself zoning out, simply smiling and nodding every once in a while. A lone crow squawked in the trees above you, and you cast your gaze up at the night sky, watching as the campfire sparks danced and faded into the shadows above. Something stirred deep within your chest.

It really was a lovely night, and you were surrounded by some lovely people, even if they were rather chaotic. With the campfire keeping you warm and their peals of laughter tugging at your lips, you almost felt sad.

Only a few more days remained of this idyllic life. Just a few days more until—

“[Y/N]? Are you okay?”

Wilbur’s worried voice drew you out of your thoughts and you turned to face him, plastering a small smile to your face. “Yep! Just thinking.”

He leaned down to peer closer at you, his gaze scanning your face. “What about?”

You averted your eyes from his, your cheeks dancing with warmth. “About you.”

He grinned and pulled you into his chest, ignoring the way Tommy pretended to choke at the sight. You giggled, your hands wrapped around Wilbur’s arm in return as he held you close.

High above you, the stars winked down at you from the pitch black sky, waiting and watching to see what came next.

Wilbur sighed, staring down at the map on his desk.

Just how was he going to stage an attack on a nation as large as the Dream SMP? Every opening would have been accounted for, and Dream was not a foe to be taken lightly. Even if all of them came in, bows blazing and swords drawn, Dream was still very much capable of taking them on, even by himself. That, he knew, and that was what weighed him down.

He slumped over, dragging a hand over his face. What in the world was he going to do?

A knock sounded at his door, startling him out of his thoughts.

“Knock knock,” you greeted, leaning against the doorframe with a smile. “You doing alright in there?”

Wilbur offered you a tired smile. “Not really, if I’m being honest.”

You stepped inside, slipping into the seat next to his. “What’s going on? Tell me.”

He sighed. “It—It’s just that the odds are so incredibly stacked against us.” His eyes were sad as he stared blankly down at the parchment. “It makes me wonder, is freedom even attainable, or is it just another one of my silly pipe dreams?”

You frowned, reaching over to stroke his face with the back of your hand. “Freedom is more than just a dream, Will. You know that.” You squeezed his shoulder. “Fundy is living proof of that. Your son is living proof of that. He was born in these walls, remember?” Your voice dropped to a whisper, and it sent a shiver down his spine. “He was born free.”

You pulled away from him, sending him a sugary grin. “We can become free, Will. I know you can do it. You’re not alone. You have me. You have us.”

His smiled crookedly at you. “Even Tommy?”

The look in your eyes was kind as you giggled. “Yes, even Tommy. I’m sure of it. Why else would you have made him your right hand man?”

He chuckled, turning his attention away from the map and onto you. “You’re right. You always know how to make me feel better, [Y/N].”

You offered him a small smile. “I try my best.”

The two of you set into a comfortable silence for a moment or two with you watching Wilbur strategically move pieces across the map while he jotted down notes on a slip of paper. It was only after a few minutes had passed when you spoke up once more.

“Hey,” you said softly, reaching over his ink well to slip your hand in his, “I want to show you something that’ll make you feel even better.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, his hand freezing on its quill. “Oh?”

You nodded, smiling sweetly at him. “I’ve been working on it for a little while, and I really think it’ll help us win that freedom of ours.”

He smiled at you, his gaze fond as he stood, setting his quill on the table. “Let me gather the men and I’ll be right there.”

It only took him a few minutes for him to rally everyone together, although he did have to silence Tommy when he let loose a string of curses yelling about his dedication to the grind. In practically no time, the whole battalion stood in front of you, eager to see what you had in store.

“Alright,” Wilbur said, bowing towards you, “lead the way.”

You grinned, jokingly curtsying back before turning on you heel, a skip lining your step as you strode toward a small tree sitting near the edge of the walls. “If you come down here,” you began, sliding down the side of the hill to point behind the tree, “you’ll see that there’s actually a small entranceway here.”

Wilbur’s eyes widened in surprise. There really was a hole in the hill dug out just here. He wondered just when you made it. “How the fuck did you keep this hidden from us?” Tommy muttered, squinting as you led them inside. “You didn’t even try to hide the fucking door.”

You shrugged, still strolling comfortably. “It was pretty out of the way and it faces the wall itself, so you weren’t likely to spot it, anyways. I didn’t really think it was necessary.”

The walls were dark and dank, lit up only be the occasional torch, but even then it was still dim. “This is a long tunnel,” Tubbo murmured after they had been walking for a minute or two, his head swiveling this way and that as he took in his surroundings.

You laughed. “Well, this place was pretty well-hidden, if I do say so myself.” Suddenly, you stopped, turning to look at the rest of the group. “Well, lads, here it is.”

You stepped in and to the side, and Wilbur gasped.

Lying just within the hill was a grand room. Every surface was made of smooth, polished, black bricks, and pale blue lanterns hung from each corner of the room, emitting a faint light that painted the room in an enchanting glow. Chests lined the walls, and in the center of the room sat a single button atop a panel.

Wilbur was floored—he had no idea when you had built all this.

“What is this place?” Fundy asked, his dark eyes wide with awe.

You hummed, tapping a finger on your chin as you strode to the middle of the room. “Well, I guess you could call it a secret base, but I’ve been calling it the final control room.” Something glinted in your eyes. “I spent a lot of time gathering resources and forging weaponry that we can use to fight.” You pointed at each labelled box with delight. “Look—you each have your own chest!”

Wilbur felt his heart swell with pride. Just when he didn’t think you could be any more perfect, you just had to shatter his expectations.

Everyone split apart, each rushing toward their respective chest with anticipation thrumming in their fingertips. Wilbur grinned as he reached his, unlatching the clasp on the front and flipping the lid open to reveal... nothing.

There wasn’t anything in the chest.

Uneasiness seeped into his stomach.

“[Y/N],” he said slowly, turning to look at you, “these chests are empty.”

You still stood in the center of the room, sending him that same sweet smile you always did.

“I know,” you said, lifting your hand to hover over the singular button lying on the control panel.

Something like terror struck his heart.

“[Y/N]?” he whispered.

It was only then that he noticed how cold your eyes were.

“It was never meant to be.”

What came next happened so quickly that Wilbur almost didn’t process it. He watched as your hand slammed down on the button, and a hole in the wall opened up to reveal the Dream SMP, their swords unsheathed and armour polished to shining. Screams rang out all around him, echoing in the tiny chamber of the so-called final control room. He could only watch in horror as his men were slaughtered at his side until a sword pierced his chest as well.

With a pained gasp, he looked up to you as he fell back, disbelief and the pure, utter pain of betrayal sinking into his veins while he coughed for air.

You still wore that saccharine smile of yours, the one he had fallen for long, long ago. Something menacing shone in your eyes.

He wondered how you could still be smiling at a time like this as his world went dark.

Wilbur awoke with a gasp, lurching forward with wide eyes. Panting, his hand flew to his chest, grasping at where he was just stabbed—or had been stabbed. His shoulders sank in relief as his fingertips met unmarred skin and the softness of his shirt, a sigh escaping his lips.

Coming back after death never really got any easier after the first time. He could only wonder what Tommy and Tubbo were going through—they were so young.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

Wilbur’s head shot to the side, his eyes briefly noting the fact that he was indeed lying on the bed in his room. On the opposite side of the room, you sat on a wooden chair, a book clutched between your fingertips. Something warm flitted through his chest as his eyes met yours, and he almost felt glad to see you.

Almost.

“What are you doing here?” he spat, a cruelty he had never felt for you before brewing within his gut. “Why are you even here?”

You blinked innocently at him, shutting the book in your hands and setting it on the table next to you. It was the declaration of independence, he noted with disgust. He felt sick knowing that you held it in yours hands, that you even signed it at all.

“I’m keeping you company,” you said casually, as if nothing had happened at all, as if you hadn’t just gotten him killed. “I didn’t want you to be lonely.”

Rage ripped through him, roaring through him like a wildfire. With shoulders shaking with agony, he tore the sheets from off his legs. “‘Didn’t want me to be lonely’?” he parroted mockingly as he stood to his full height. His glare was as cold as ice. “Is this some sick joke to you?”

You tilted your head at him, your mouth remaining a straight line—hard and firm. “Not particularly, no.”

That was when it hit him—when everything came crashing into him all at once.

You had sold them out.

You had abandoned them.

Did you mean anything you ever said to him? Did you ever really love him? Were your kisses ever real? Did his love really mean nothing to you?

“[Y/N],” he breathed, horror wracking his every word, “what have you done?”

You stared at him, your expression blank and unreadable—an impenetrable wall standing between him and your psyche. He hated it. He hated how unreadable you were in this moment, and his anger older burned brighter.

“What were you thinking?” he shouted, his voice growing louder and louder. He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, pushing it away from his soot-stained face. “We were going to get married. We—we were going to start a new life together. With Tommy, and Tubbo. Niki. Fundy, my son.” His eyes flashed. “Our son. Whatever happened to that?”

He sank to his knees, suddenly feeling very tired. The fire burned out, and an indescribable sense of sadness flowed in instead, flooding every inch of his being. He felt his eyes begin to water as you simply stared down at him, unfeeling and harsh. His voice cracked.

“[Y/N], why?”

There was no denying what you had done. He had seen it with his own two eyes, had watched a wicked glint creep into your gaze as you pressed the button and vanished.

You were a traitor, through and through, yet he still could not fathom why.

Suddenly, you took a stood, taking a slow and deliberate step toward him. Wilbur’s breath hitched in his throat as he saw you draw closer and closer, his heart pounding in his ears. Even after all that you’d done, after you’d betrayed him, his heart still yearned for you—still ached for you.

Just a step before you reached him, you stopped, crouching down to be level with him. For a moment, you simply stared at him with those eyes—those eyes he loved so, so much. Then, you opened your mouth.

“Wilbur,” you murmured, soft enough only for him to hear. “Oh, my darling, lovely Wilbur.”

Your voice was sickly sweet, dripping like honey that stuck to the roof of his mouth. He swallowed, the tiniest flicker of hope igniting in his heart. Perhaps this was all just some big misunderstanding, some prank that you were pulling on him—you always did love your mischief.

You smiled at him, the glimmer in your eyes wicked and unkind as you stood up. The sun hung just behind you in the sky, framing your face in a heavenly glow.

In another life, you would have looked like an angel.

“I was never meant to be yours.”

His heart shattered.

The tears were now freely streaming down his cheeks, running down like tiny rivers. He half-hoped that he would drown in them, that he would never have to see your beautifully wretched face again for as long as he lived.

Bending over, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, pulling away just a second later after gently patting his head. The spot where your lips met his skin burned, and he hated himself for wishing you would stay.

You strode over to the door, swinging it open with one last glance over your shoulder and an empty half-smile. “Goodbye, Will.”

The door closed. Wilbur stared at the solid oak wood, feeling an abyss open up inside him.

Gone—you were gone.

And he was left alone.

So much for getting married.

“Was it worth it?”

You stopped swinging your legs from the gold throne you sat upon and cast a glance up at Dream, his green eyes boring into you from where he was perched on the chandelier. How he got up there, you still had no idea.

“Was what worth it?” you asked, examining a diamond between your fingers.

He cocked his head at you, gesturing to the castle surrounding the two of you. “This life. Your new title. You gave up so much for them, after all.” He began counting off on his fingers, his lips quirking. “You faked a relationship with Wilbur, pretended to love his son, befriended that brat, Tommy, and then blew it all to smithereens for the crown on your head.”

His gaze flickered back to yours. “Well?” he said again. “Was it worth it?”

You looked at him for a long moment, your expression pensive.

You thought of soft, brown curls tickling against your face as you awoke on the couch. You thought of fluttering laughter and bashful giggles. You thought of a pearly white grin flashing at you from the other side of the campfire. You thought of an old acoustic guitar that was almost always just a little out of tune. You thought of gentle kisses pressed to hands, cheeks, necks, and mouths.

You thought of Wilbur Soot.

And you smiled and felt nothing.

“Yes.”

821 notes · View notes

plant-flwrs · 5 years ago

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i just read house unity and i am in tears!! it's so beautifully written, you must be an author bc that is pure TALENT 😭✨ if you don't mind can i request george x soft hufflepuff reader? she's kinda pure and george is like ily let's be together. thx!!

budding romance // george weasley

masterlist!

a/n: um UR TOO NICE!!! thank you so much!!! I do not mind in the slightest, so I hope you like it hehe! um i also love hufflepuffs so much they are like the best house (coming from a ravenclaw) my sister is a hufflepuff and like three of my good friends are hufflepuffs so y’all are the best and i have a major soft spot for u.

i’ve always found something about botany and plants incredibly romantic, so if this just sounds like a fanfiction for plants, you know why lol. I also made George a bit soft in this so i hope you don’t mind that either <3 n e ways, i hope you enjoy this! thanks for requesting! also sorry this took so long :( i had a bit of a hard time finding a solid idea but i think it worked out :) like, reblog, or leave any feedback if you’d like!

summary: George needs a tutor for Herbology, but has no plans on learning.

(3k)

--------

The back of your neck was particularly warm, and you hadn’t decided if it was because of the blazing sun shining through the Herbology classroom glass ceiling, or the fact that George Weasley was staring at the back of your head.

Your delicate fingers traced the back of the Dittany plant, feeling the bumps and lines of the veins that trailed to the stem. You wrote down some observations in your worn notebook, before glancing back at the plant. You picked up a pair of garden scissors, prepared to cut the plant at the stem.

“George Weasley is looking over here,” your friend whispered to you, casting a glance over her shoulder.

“I know, he does it often,” you replied, using a pair of tweezers to pull apart the Dittany.

“Do you think he needs something?” she asked, returning back to her own plant.

“I just figured he was copying what I was doing,” you wiped a bit of moisture off of your hand and onto your apron, taking the opportunity to look over your shoulder.

George’s eyes met yours, and his face flushed with an embarrassed blush. You offered him a kind smile, your eyes falling down to his mangled Dittany plant. You looked back up to his eyes, this time sympathetically smiling at him.

You returned to your own plant, jotting down a few more notes in the stained journal next to you.

Herbology was a strong suit of yours, you had always found it relaxing and simple. The plants offered so much to people, and all you had to do was understand how to care for them properly.

After your eventual dismissal, you rubbed the back of your neck and felt a sunburn, cursing yourself for not bringing some sort of sunscreen in your bag.

You heard an awkward cough from behind you, followed by a weak “hello”. You turned to face the noise and was a little surprised to see the tall redhead it came from.

“Hello,” you said kindly, closing your bag.

“Hi,” he repeated, and you waited for him to continue.

An awkward amount of time passed before he realized he had already said hello.

“Oh, right, um” he coughed again, clearing his throat, “well, I just wanted to introduce myself.”

He paused, holding his hand out for you to shake.

“I know who you are, George,” you replied before he had the chance, smiling at his sentiment, “we’ve gone to school together for 6 years.”

“Yeah, I just usually say it formally,” he retracted his hand after he held onto yours for what he felt was too long, “you know, with an identical brother and all.”

You nodded your head, still smiling at the nervous boy.

“Well, I wanted to ask you something,” he said, his hands gripping the leather straps of his bag nervously.

“In addition to the introduction?” you said, trying to make him less nervous.

He laughed lightly, shifting from one leg to the other.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” you pushed a piece of hair behind your ear, finding it impossible to wipe the smile off your face.

“I was wondering, since you seem so good at it, if you would help me out in Herbology?” he spoke fast, and you nearly missed what he said.

“Oh,” you were surprised by his question. He and his brother had a bit of a reputation at this school, and tutoring didn’t seem to align with it.

“I get if you can’t or something, I know you must be busy with your own studies,” he began, but you waved your hands, cutting him off.

“No, no, I don’t mind,” your smile widened as he let out a relieved breath of air, his chest deflating.

“So you’ll tutor me?” he asked, a crooked smile dawning upon his lips.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not,” you replied easily, nodding your head.

There were many reasons not to tutor George, you found later. For one, you fell in love with him. Not that you could be blamed, he was incredibly charming and adorable. The other reason was that he actually had very little interest in the plants, and his efforts seemed more geared towards you.

You had asked Professor Sprout if you and George could meet in the Herbology room every Wednesday after her classes. She was skeptical, but she trusted you and allowed you access as long as you promised to keep George in line.

This particular Wednesday seemed no different than the others, besides the growing crush you had formed on George. You waited for him at a stool by the door, a textbook open in front of you, along with your Herbology journal, a few quills, your apron, your gardening equipment, and a dying Dittany plant you planned on showing George how to save. You had been waiting for a while, but George was usually late. You had pulled some Arithmancy homework from your bag and worked on it in the meantime.

“Sorry!” George burst through the door of the greenhouse, a book falling from his fumbling hands, “Sorry, I got caught up with Fred, I’m sorry I’m late.”

More and more apologies flooded from his mouth, like they did most days, as he made his way to the stool next to you.

“It’s alright,” you put away your homework and pulled your textbook to rest on the table between the two of you.

You stood from your stool and began putting on your apron, and moved over to the cabinet with the spare aprons. You got one for George and his hands fumbled behind his back, his focus on you. He watched the side of your face as you peered into the textbook, your fingers tracing the words as you read. You lightly tapped it, pointing it out to George.

“We’ll start here,” you said, sitting back down in your stool.

Your wand hovered over a watering jug on the table, and you cast the Aguamenti charm. Water poured from your wand, filling the jug.

George watched you, nervously turning his fingers over in his lap. He glanced down, noticing the habit, and smoothed his hands over his legs. He brought his hands to his hair and raked them through the red locks, rolling his shoulders back, trying to relax in your presence. He never was able to, and he knew this, but it didn’t stop him from trying.

George couldn’t care any less than he already did about Herbology. He thought it was boring and useless. Not many of his pranks required extensive knowledge about plants, and when they did, the plants were already in use. But, when he saw you from across the room, your glasses teetering on the edge of your nose, your fingers tracing over the lettering in the textbook, hair falling into your face, and that wonderfully sweet smile etched onto your beautiful face, he had to talk to you.

It took him a week or two of staring at the back of your head before you even noticed him. The first time that beautiful smile was for him, he could only think of you for the rest of the day. Fred was tired of it, honestly, George was desperately infatuated with you. George had worked up the tutoring plan with Fred, with the promise that he wouldn’t actually study anything. “We have a reputation to uphold, Georgie!”

“Okay,” your sweet voice pulled George from his thoughts, and his eyes flickered from your face to your hands on the book, “so this is a Dittany.”

Your hands moved from the book to the dying plant. Its previously green leaves were now brown and wilting. Your fingertips moved over the delicate leaves, to the stems, and you raked your fingers through the dry dirt.

George leaned forward on the table, putting his chin to rest in his palm. He listened to you talk about the plant, describing just about everything there was to know. He wondered how you knew all of this from memory, and admired you even more than he thought possible.

You reached over the table to grab the garden scissors, but they were just out of your grasp. George leaned forwards and picked them up, turning them to you. You hadn’t retracted your hand, so when he pulled them from the table, they slid open and you felt a sharp pain on your fingertip.

You pulled your hand away and nursed it in your lap. A red stain appeared on your apron, and soon it spread as your fingertip was flowing with blood. You heard the scissors clatter on the table and George turned to you, already spouting apologies.

“Shit!” he cursed, his body turning towards you and he slouched to become eye level with you in your seat, “I’m so sorry!”

You whimpered involuntarily, bringing your finger to your mouth to suck away some of the blood. You removed your finger and wiped it on your apron, only for the blood to continue flowing.

George was panicking, he felt absolutely awful.

“Can I see it?” you looked up to see his creased brow and guilt- flooded eyes.

You swallowed hard and nodded, offering him your hand timidly.

He gently placed his hands over yours, they were so large they nearly covered them completely. His hands were warm and calloused on the palms from years of gripping his Beater bat. He brought your hand to him, holding it close to his chest as he looked at the small cut.

“I am so sorry,” he repeated, and he rubbed his thumb soothingly on our palm.

He pulled out his wand and looked at you for wordless permission, which you granted him curiously. He hovered over your finger and mumbled a spell you hadn’t heard before. The broken skin on your finger began to mend together, and the stinging had been replaced with an odd numbness. There was still the remains of blood, but George brought his apron to your finger and wiped it away. He still held your hand, looking at your face.

“How did you know that spell?” you asked, surprised when your voice came out as a whisper.

“You learn a lot when you have siblings like mine,” George responded in a whisper, looking at you sheepishly.

His hand was tightening around yours, and his palm rested against the back of your hand. You wrapped your fingers around his thumb, squeezing it lightly.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

George’s eyes flickered down to your lips, and it was so fast you had thought you might have imagined it. Your eyes moved to his lips, noticing that his bottom lip was trapped between his teeth.

“Well, it’s the least I could do,” he responded coolly, dropping your hand back into your lap and straightening his tie as if it had become too tight.

You looked down at your aprons, each stained with small drops of your blood.

“Ew,” you said, trying to wipe off the dried red stain, “Sprout will kill me!”

Pulling his wand back out, he placed it on the table.

“Here,” he moved close to you and wrapped his arms around you. You stiffened, breathing in deeply as his mouth was inches away from your ear. You felt him fumbling with the bow that tied your apron, and his hands grazed your lower back.

Soon the bow was untied, and George hovered for a moment, and he couldn’t help but smile as he smelled your wonderful perfume.

Your apron became lose and he pulled back, his hands moving to your neck as he pulled it off. He did the same with his own and laid them both on the table.

“Tergeo,” he said, pointing his wand at the aprons.

Your apron was as good as new, and so was his, all the dirt and blood removed from the cloth.

You swallowed hard, trying to push the moment of intimacy from your brain. You forced a smile at him, thanking him as you took the apron from him.

“You’re a much better student than you let on, George,” you said, holding the apron loosely in your lap.

He made a scoffing noise, but a genuine and flushed smile fell on his face.

Neither of you felt inclined to nurse a dead plant back to life, in fact, you had no idea what to do. George just stared at you, as if he were waiting for something.

“Um-” George spoke at the same time as you, and you closed your lips.

“No, you go ahead,” he said, bowing his head to you slightly.

You laughed and insisted that you weren’t going to say anything important.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to take a walk around the grounds,” he said, already standing from his stool, “it’s awfully warm in here.”

George was right, the greenhouses seemed to be particularly warm. You thought some fresh air would be nice.

“Not very interested in the Dittany?” you teased, standing from your stool and moving to clear the table.

“Oh no!” George said nervously, hoping he didn’t offend you, “No, its wonderful-”

“I’m only teasing George, I know Herbology can be boring,” you smiled at him and laughed to yourself when you saw him visibly relax.

He was always so nervous around you, no matter how hard you tried to make him comfortable.

The two of you put away all the supplies, cleaning the table off for Professor Sprout. You had used the water left in the watering jug on any dry looking plants. George watched you going around the greenhouse, the sunshine making you seem like you were glowing. You held your hair behind your shoulder, peering into each pot.

“Alright,” you dusted your hands and tucked away your apron, “let’s go.”

George held the door open for you, and you ducked beneath his outstretched arm as you crossed the threshold. You followed his lead as he led you down a hallway.

“So you like Herbology a lot, right?” George asked you, casting a glance down at your side profile.

“Yeah, I do,” you replied.

“There’s a boy in my house, Neville, he’s great at Herbology,” George spoke fondly, his eyes turning to look out the tall windows.

“Sprout has talked about him,” you said, looking at George’s side profile, “says he’s quite talented.”

“Yeah, he’s great,” George said awkwardly, feeling quite uncertain in your presence.

“What’s your favorite class?” you asked, still trying to make some conversation.

George raked his mind, trying to decide if he should make up an answer to sound smart or be honest. He decided to be honest.

“I quite like lunch,” he said, casting a smile down at you.

You giggled, rolling your eyes playfully. He bumped his shoulder against yours, and you giggled even more.

You were eventually able to fall into a comfortable conversation, walking around the castle with ease. His hands tucked themselves into his pockets, and you crossed your arms over your chest. You eventually stopped in the courtyard, and George led you over to a bench under a large tree.

You sat close to each other, and he was painfully aware of the way your leg rubbed against his. He looked down at the spot where your skirt ended and your tights began, a lump forming in his throat. He looked at the side of your face, you seemed wonderfully content. Your eyes scanned the array of plants in front of you, looking at each of the vibrant flowers that were beginning to bloom.

“I really am sorry about your hand,” he said, partly as an excuse to pick up your hand and pretend to look at the healed cut.

Your felt tingles shoot down your arm at the unexpected touch. You looked at the hair that fell over his forehead as he peered down at your hand, holding it delicately.

“Oh, it’s alright,” you said reassuringly, “accidents happen.”

He smiled at your kindness, your eyes meeting. This time, you were sure he was looking at your lips. Your eyes danced around his face, and you felt your lips curling into a smile as he watched them.

“Would you mind if-” he croaked out, but the words seemed to be caught in his throat.

You giggled, and he dropped your hand, his head rolling back as a bought of laughter came from him. He suddenly seemed the most relaxed he had ever been.

Suddenly, when his head came to face yours again, his hands snaked up to hold your cheeks. Your eyes widened, and your smile did too. He brought your face to his, and you had realized what he was going to ask you just a second ago.

His hands were warm, and the callouses felt nice against your soft cheeks. His kiss was soft and gentle, and he waited for you to reciprocate. Your hands traveled up to wrap around his neck, and the second your fingers tangled themselves in his hair, his kiss intensified.

One of his hands traveled down to your neck, and his thumb grazed your jaw. The other slithered to your hair, and he lightly pushed your face even closer to his. Your nose pressed into his cheek and you leaned closer, your shoulder bumping into his. His tongue trailed over your bottom lip, and you sighed, opening your mouth to his.

“Ew! Get a room!”

You heard two voices shouting towards you. You pulled away, much to George’s dismay, who stayed in the same place with his eyes closed.

You looked over George’s shoulder and saw his brother and his friend.

“George,” you nudged him, casting your blushing cheeks and sheepish smile down at your lap, “I think you’re needed.”

George groaned, opening his eyes slowly. His hand was still tangled in your hair, and he slowly removed it. You felt chills as his hand raked over your neck and down your yellow tie, attempting to keep your close.

“What?” he said so poisonously, that your eyes widened.

“Keep it in your pants!” the younger redhead called out, shoving his shoulder against his friends, laughing.

“I swear to-” you heard George mumbled, already moving from his seat next to you and off to his brother.

The smaller redhead shoved his books into Harry’s chest, setting off in a run. Harry laughed loudly as George chased after his younger brother. George pulled his wand from his waistband, pointing it at Ron and easily casting a spell that bound a rope at Ron’s feet. Ron fell to the ground with a thud and George stood over him, smiling evilly.

He looked back at you, watching as you covered an entertained laugh with your hand. His face melted into pure admiration, and he abandoned Ron, leaving him tied up in the grass. George broke out in a jog, determined to hear your sweet laugh.

#george weasley #weasley twins #george weasley fic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagine #george weasley x y/n #request #harry potter #hogwarts #hufflepuff #fanfic #weasley fic

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theflashdriver · 4 years ago

Text

Too Late

A mysterious visitor draws Blaze to the docks, having made his presence known through Marine and requested conversation with her. His reasons for this, who he is and why he's even here are all unknowns. Despite this rudeness, the ruler of the Sol dimension can't help but feel a bizarre tension in the air. Written for sonamysilvazeweek 2021, using the bonus prompt of hurt/comfort!

This one is more intended to be pure angst than romance but it is very soft, I hope folks enjoy!

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These past two days had brought a bizarre tension that Blaze knew the origin of but not how to confront. Yesterday morning, a little before noon, Marine had burst into a royal meeting with all the disruptive force that she could muster. The now adult raccoon, stood in front of ministers and community stakeholders, had freely and willingly babbled about a weird old wizard who had offered to help with her ships if he could meet with the princess. Naturally, due to a combination of the shipwright’s tone and chosen way of relaying this information, Blaze had rather exploded at her, insisting that she leave and that this so-called wizard should make an appointment. When the girl had tried to stand her ground, she’d been asked if this person was a threat. With a grumble of no, knowing she was beat, the raccoon had made her way through the halls but out the castle entirely.

That was, until eight o’clock this morning. The young raccoon had barraged her way into the royal bedchambers, claiming that the same old wizard had successfully pulled eight of her crashed ships from the ocean and aided in their repair by merely waving his hand. She said that he was some kind of psychic sent from the other dimension and that, despite how weird and old he was, he apparently knew Cream, Sonic, Tails and the others. All those things had piqued Blaze’s interest, of course they had, but none of them propagated her curiosity quite like Marine claiming he’d sat on the dock ever since he’d arrived. He hadn’t eaten or even slept; he’d simply sat waiting for the princess.

Unfortunately, just like the day before, today had been filled to burst with work. Gardon had passed away three months ago and, although the monarch was now mature, the burden of that loss was still weighing heavily on her. No longer having that confidante, that source of sage advice, was finally beginning to wear her down. Hours were spent dealing with fussy landowners and handling minor issues, with both sets of Eggman long gone too, the guardian part of her role had been regulated to a mere title. It’d taken until now, approaching night on this summer day, for her to find the time and leave the castle.

The evening was humid, even by the docks, but that wasn’t too abnormal for this time of year. A dark sky hung overhead; grey clouds formed a barrier that barely allowed the pink of the sunset to pierce through. She was dressed in her usual working garb, her purple coat and white tights, but she wasn’t entirely sure if this was work. Marine’s descriptions of this man had been sparse to say the least- apparently, he was old, would glow with a strange cyan light and looked rather homeless. Blaze wasn’t even certain that her aid was needed in the Chaos dimension and so she hadn’t brought the Sol emeralds; according to Marine, he was just here to meet with the princess.

Blaze quickly found herself at the stout dock that Marine tended to work off of. Sure enough, no fewer than eight vessels that she could scarcely recognise were happily floating along either side of the wooden boardwalk. None of them held her attention for long though, despite how ludicrous and intricate their designs were. No, Blaze’s eyes quickly fell upon a cloaked figure sitting at the very end of the dock.

Her attention was immediately captured by a set of seven quills, the formation of which she’d never seen on a hedgehog before. They were long overgrown and, though she could tell five ascended from his forehead while two stretched from the back of his head, they’d all began to matt into one continuous mass of grey fur. The cloak Marine had described was actually a garb formed from brown burlap, heavily stitched in places and acting as some strange poncho with long and billowing sleeves. Strangely, his right sleeve hung loosely at his side while his left reached up to cradle his head.

“Hello there? Are you the one who’s been waiting for me?” She called out, trying to get his attention.

“Oh, hello,” A croaking voice half-hummed from the form, he didn’t so much as turn back, “It’s a shame you didn’t come yesterday, the sunset was wonderful.”

Feeling a little slighted by the hedgehog’s cheekiness, Blaze responded in kind, “Well, I’m sorry but my role finds me rather busy.”

“Oh, no, there’s nothing to be sorry about. I think I can make this work,” Once those words sounded, the hedgehog’s back straightened and his hand left his chin.

She watched from behind as he pointed to the sky and, though she wasn’t sure what to expect, she couldn’t have anticipated what would happen next. The once grey shroud that had blocked the sun was suddenly tinted cotton-candy blue. She watched as his fingers curled into a fist and the cloud mass seemed to convulse, almost gathering at a single point, before he flicked his wrist and spread his fingers. The clouds parted into a wide circle that breached the horizon and, as it did, his hand was made fully visible. A cyan circle shone on the back of his palm; by the tears on his worn glove, she could tell that it was part of his hand.

“Oh, today’s even prettier, is that normal for this world?” It was only then that the form turned for face her, not rising and bowing like most of her subjects would but simply glancing over his shoulder with a soft smile on his face.

Behind him, the sun couldn’t be more than an inch away from the ocean’s surface and the sky was the most glorious shade of pastel pink… but that couldn’t hold the feline’s attention. Her eyes locked on the hedgehog’s face, the face of an old and tired man. Sunburn marred his muzzle, giving him a rough appearance despite his smile. Plumes of white fur breached his garb’s neck-hole, wrinkles covered his face and there was an age in his eyes that spoke volumes to the feline. Marine hadn’t been inaccurate to call him a wizard, what he’d just done was ludicrous and he surely looked the part, but something in those bright yellow eyes called to Blaze in a bizarre way.

Stumped, finding herself unable to answer, Blaze managed another step forward before catching herself, “What on earth did you just do?”

“Oh, I just pushed the clouds away,” He said, so very nonchalantly, as he turned back to the sky, “Don’t you think it’s pretty?

“It’s certainly prettier than it was,” She conceded through clenched teeth, daring to take another step closer. Though he didn’t seem threatening, this bizarre figure had just split the sky with no more than a wave of his hand, “Marine was insistent that I come down here as soon as possible, was there a reason for that?”

“What? Oh, I’m sorry, no. I would have happily waited for a few weeks at least,.I heard that you’re very busy,” He patted the spot on the docks next to him, smiling back at her again, “I just wanted to talk with you a little, after that I’ll be on my way.”

Under normal circumstances, Blaze would have turned tail there and then. If he was just here to talk and willing to wait then he could book an appointment like all the rest; but these weren’t normal circumstances. He’d parted the sky, brought ships back from the depths and... well, something bizarre was buzzing in Blaze’s head. As she looked upon his form, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu; she’d never seen this old man in her life and yet he looked so familiar. The term anemoia came to mind but she was struggling to recall its meaning. Without even really thinking, she found herself stepping closer still to the grey figure- soon she was standing by his side.

It was as he turned back to the sunset, releasing a sigh of contentment, that Blaze truly understood what she was looking at. When Marine said he’d raised and repaired her ships with one hand, Blaze hadn’t thought that he lacked the other. His right arm had been reduced to a stump, bound at its end, but that wasn’t where the damage ended. Only his right leg poked free from his garb to hang over the edge, this figure had seen far more than his share of adversity. Even the smiling form of his muzzle seemed slightly battered and, even over the scent of sea air, the stench he carried was that of brimstone and sweat decades aged.

“And what is it that you want to talk about?” Blaze, rather bluntly, managed to ask.

“Well, um,” He tugged at his chest fur, “I have a couple of questions to ask, but I’m sure you’ll have some for me too. How about we take turns asking things? I asked one then you get to.”

Today just kept growing more bizarre, he hadn’t come to ask her anything, he’d come to play a game of twenty questions. Even with Marine, even with Sonic or Amy or any of the others, if they tried to confront her like this then she’d ask them to simply cut to the chase. But as she stood above him, a question did find purchase in her mind. He apparently knew the others, that meant he was probably from their dimension, so why hadn’t they bumped into each other? He was an older hedgehog, was he related to Sonic? She didn’t think so, but it was so bizarre- it was like she knew where he came from, it was almost on the tip of her tongue. Even his name, it was as though she was so sure of it but couldn’t verbalise it no matter how she tried.

With a heavy sigh, not masked in the way she’d try to hide such normalities during her royal meetings, Blaze dropped down to sit beside the grey figure, “Fine, ask away.”

“What, really? O-Okay,” He seemed just as surprised as she was about her willingness to go along with this, “I’m, well, I think I’m eighty-two now. How old are you?”

Blaze blinked; this absolute stranger had just asked the princess her age in such a blunt manner. His lack of tact was frankly astounding but Blaze wasn’t off put. If anything, there was something strangely homely in how casually he’d asked, “I’m twenty-eight now, going on twenty-nine.”

“Oh wow, it’s like we’re opposites,” He immediately seemed to notice, smiling even more warmly than he had before, “Your turn then.”

A couple of ideas floated in her head, questions that felt strangely pointless to ask despite her not knowing the answers. Eventually, she managed to settle on one.

“Marine said you knew those in the other dimension,” She posited, “Do you come from there? I’ve been over a few times now and I don’t think I’ve ever…” For whatever reason, another surge of déjà vu forced her to hesitate, “Seen you.”

“Oh, yes, right. I don’t think you would have, no,” He seemed to stumble over a collection of thoughts, “I’m from there but not from then, you see. I’m from their dimension but a very different time. Two-hundred years in their future, I was born. The time I came from though, that’s long gone, overwritten by my travels,” The old man said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, “It was a bad place to live to be honest, overrun by monsters long before I was born. It took a lot but, after almost a hundred years of work, it’s finally all sorted out. I kept going back to the past and preventing disasters, now there’s nothing left to prevent,” And she found herself listening, as if it was the most regular of answers, “I guess I kind of come from nowhere now though, it’s nice there but it’s not exactly home. I’m just drifting now really…”

“Right…” The princess mumbled, trying to take that all in and finding it surprisingly easy.

Up until now things had been weird but now things were surpassing the point of strangeness. Looking past the other oddities this figure presented, for her to hear what she had just heard and feel as though that was both truthful and normal was the most bizarre sensation Blaze had ever experienced. Perhaps it was because she was used to introducing herself as a princess of another dimension but the fact she was so unphased by his words was thoroughly phasing her.

Before she could dwell on it too much, he was smiling at her again, “I’m wondering, the others mentioned that you were a pyrokinetic, would you mind showing me…?”

Again, without much thought, Blaze found this usually questionable proposal agreeable. She raised her right hand between them and, with no more than the click of her fingers, the top of her forefinger was set alight. Almost immediately he moved in closer, his bright yellow eyes marvelled at the exposed flame.

“Though it took me a while to properly control it, I’ve had this power for all my life,” She explained, snuffing the light against her palm, “What about you? What’s that symbol on your hand and what did you do with the clouds?”

As if to match her, the hedgehog raised his hand. Light seemed to pulse and ebb from the shining mark at his hand’s centre, tinting the environment around it. Once that had been shown, in such a casual way, the hedgehog turned and gestured to the sea before pointing his forefinger up. A light seemed to well in the dark depths of the water and, almost instantly, the waves ceased their lapping. Slowly coiling its way up, like some great serpent emerging from a lake, a long tendril of water, bathed in that same cyan glow, began to extend from the sea. It cut the sky, stretching a good ten metres up. Then, with a further wave of his hand, it fell away from them as though it was a tree that’d been chopped at the base. With a colossal splash, the waves restarted with a brief degree of additional aggression before, eventually, settling back into their regular pattern.

In any other situation, coming from any other person, Blaze would have taken this as some vague show of force. She knew that he could manipulate more than water, she’d seen him shift the cloud many miles in the sky, but he’d chosen to control the element that directly countered her own. Again though, for some unthinkable reason, Blaze couldn’t find the emotion to be shocked or perturbed.

“I’m psychic, I’ve had this power for as long as I remember but, to be quite honest, I’ve got no idea how it actually works or where it comes from,” His smile grew a little warmer, “I never really thought it all that important, all that matters is how these powers are used.”

“I’ve tried to embody similar thoughts myself,” She quickly responded, attempting not to dwell on that or the thoughts that came with it, “It��s your turn.”

“This is my big question, but I know this might be a little strange to ask. You don’t have to answer it if you’re not comfortable,” He said, as if everything up to this point had been normal, “Do you like living here? Do you like being the princess?”

This wasn’t a question Blaze was new to, it wasn’t uncommon for children to ask what it was like being a princess, but Blaze thought his version carried a little more weight. He wasn’t asking about the simple things, like sleeping in a big bed or heading public events. For whatever reason, the princess knew he was asking if she actually enjoyed the role she’d been born into and, again for some unknown reason, she felt prompted to answer truthfully. This stranger was compelling her to unearth truths in a way that she hadn’t dared before.

“It’s… difficult,” She muttered, “Even though I hold a privileged position, even though I know I’m luckier than most, I don’t know that I’ve ever been comfortable,” Her head found her hand, her gaze drifted to the sea, “I can’t see my friends often, I can’t choose where I go and when, I can’t even stroll to the docks on a whim,” For some reason, although that was true, saying it aloud felt incredibly selfish, “But, it would be a lie to say I’m totally uncomfortable here. Marine keeps things interesting. Though I’ve seen adversity I’ve either been able to handle it or found the strength to call upon friends to aid me. Even if it’s not perfect, I’m happy I can live here and bring justice for those around me. I don’t know that I could ever see myself giving it up or…”

Blaze caught herself, grinding their conversation to a halt, “This is hardly professional of me; I really don’t know why I’m telling you all this. I shouldn’t be talking to anyone like this.”

“Well, I’d be lying if I told you I minded all that or that I wasn’t enjoying our conversation,” His eyes seemed to flicker away from hers and, though he spoke positively, his grin drooped ever so slightly, “I simply have a face that a people find familiar, I think it’s got something to do with my travels through time. People tend to speak with me in ways that they wouldn’t others.”

Somehow, despite the softness of his expressions and the newness behind their interactions, the princess could see that he wasn’t telling the total truth. There was something in the bending of his brow, the way the words hung on his lips. Then again, perhaps it wasn’t to do with him at all. Maybe it was the way his words resonated with her eardrums.

Equally though, she’d be lying if she said that she didn’t see what he’d said, “You do have a rather…” She rummaged for the right words, good and polished words, but what she drew was far too flimsy, “Kind face,” Though her stomach churned at her inaccurate choice of words, she pressed on, “Though that concerns me, it does really feel as though I’ve met you before. Were you a friend of Gardon’s?”

“Gardon?” The word rolled off his tongue, she couldn’t recall hearing that name in his voice at all. She knew the answer before he seemed to, “No, I don’t think so. Who’s Gardon?”

“He was,” Her tongue hitched on words like a hoe dragging through rocks, “Like a father to me,” That seemed right to tell him, even if it wasn’t proper to admit, “I didn’t especially realise that when he was with us but, despite that, I think he knew. He’d looked after me since I was a little girl, I can’t imagine he didn’t occasionally consider himself in that role,” She found herself stumbling, emotions were bubbling to the surface but, for some reason, despite her oversharing, she didn’t care, “I probably should have said I shared his view or made my attachment clearer but, given my position, it wouldn’t have been right.”

“Well,” Hesitantly, shakily, that glowing hand of his came to reside upon her shoulder. Any normal stranger would have promptly been brushed off, told to keep their hands away, but something about that weight upon her shoulder ebbed with a further familiarity that she could not place, “It sounds as if I’d love to have been a friend of Gardon’s, I’m so sorry, Blaze.”

It was only now, having sat with him for a while, that Blaze was beginning to pick up on subtle aspects of his mannerisms. Every word seemed as though it was intently thought out, as if he was running through a thousand memories every time she finished a sentence- so often punctuated with a hum or the word well. It was as if he was doing what she had done for so many years; carefully choosing his words, trying to match her royal status. The only difference was that while she searched for professional words, he seemed to do much the opposite. Not once had he remembered to call her your majesty or your highness, regardless of how much thinking he did.

“Though it’s not the same, I’ve lost someone close to me too,” For the first time since they’d started their conversation, his gaze had flickered away from her and back towards the sea, “Then again, I-I suppose that’s to be expected when you reach my age,” He took another moment, his remaining hand slipped from her shoulder to his knee as he seemed to catch himself, “No one so recently of course, but it’s hard to forget,” She watched his brow furrow further, his fingers seemed to push deeper into his cloak as his words slowly spilled, “You never actually want to forget. If you do, you’ll regret forgetting, more than anything else in the world.”

Once again, the two found themselves sitting in silence. Blaze the cat, the cold and hardened queen of the Sol dimension, felt a few bizarre words weighing so heavily on her tongue. In a matter of moments, with only a handful of words, the tension between them had remounted and tripled. Despite that, she was about to make things even more awkward.

“D-Did you love them?” She stumbled to ask, rather immediately regretting it but finding it impossible not to say something in continuation, “The person that you lost, I mean.”

“Oh, I loved her more than anything,” His answer was so immediate, “So much in fact that I can’t help but think I very much took her for granted. She never took to the word love well, it always seemed to embarrass her, but I feel as though I should have said it a million times more,” Unlike the name of Gardon or so many other things Blaze had heard today, the word love in his tone sounded so unforgivably familiar. It made her feel as though she was some kind of demon for not knowing where she’d heard it, “She was smart, brave, strong… and so much kinder than she probably liked to think, let alone that she could stand to admit,” The way he spoke seemed to carry a nostalgic joy and love that Blaze couldn’t recall seeing in any person, across their entire life “She’d scold me so often, I don’t think she realised that was how she showed her love. I don’t think I knew it either, but I would still go too far and get myself hurt just trying to impress her. It was all with the intent to do good of course, never pointless, but...”

A spark had grown in his eye, another glow that she recognised, but so very quickly he seemed to snuff it. Worry lines appeared on the hedgehog’s brow as he turned back to the sunset.

His smile frayed away at the seams as he mumbled, that love wasn’t gone but now it was being tiptoed around, “Well, she went too far herself a handful of times…”

This old man, this man almost three times her age, had already established a connection with her that few people, inside or out of her kingdom, had managed. Somehow, in a matter of minutes and without seeming to try, he’d managed to bring her fully out of her shell and allowed her access to his. No, it was more than that, it was as if she wanted access to the walls around this history he’d lived.

“I’m…” Something about this felt weird to say, even though she knew it was right, “Sorry for your loss too.”

“I’m sure she loves watching the sunset,” He half hummed before catching himself and beginning to stammer, “W-Would have loved to, rather. This world is so very pretty, though I haven’t stayed for long, I’ve found myself rather smitten with it,” With his hand, he gestured out to the horizon and she followed his pointing, “Islands littered with limitless wonders, a glorious sunset every evening, softly rolling tides and wonderful people,” He spoke such simple words but they were so plainly from the heart, “Yes, this must be the most beautiful place I’ve ever visited. Even better than the world I made.”

Having not watched many sunsets, Blaze didn’t think she was in a good position to judge but there was no denying the prettiness of this sky. The soft pink of the ether, fading orange away from the sun and red towards, it was truly breath-taking to behold. The way the silver clouds hung, parted by his will, as if it were a picture frame surrounding the view made it all the more special. It was as if he’d revealed something she’d never have noticed, like he’d excavated some fossil or deciphered some ancient code.

“I’ve…” She caught herself before she could say something naïve again, “I must profess, I never really watched it until today. It just seemed so regular, as if it wasn’t worth noticing,” That turned his head but she kept her focus on the view in front of them, “But you’re right, it is beautiful,” In this moment, having discussed so much, Blaze felt bold enough to finally pry and ask the question she weirdly felt she already knew the answer to, “What did you say your name was?”

“Oh, I don’t think you asked so I didn’t give my name,” He’d tried to make it sound as though he’d just realised but Blaze could tell that was intentional, “I’m, um…” It took him much too long to provide an answer, “I’m Venice, yes, sorry. Its been a while since I’ve heard my name, let alone used it.”

“Venice?” That name didn’t sit fondly on her tongue, it didn’t seem to suit him at all. No, without even watching him speak it, Blaze knew that he was lying, “You mean, like the city in the other dimension? The one with the canals.”

“Y-Yeah,” He muttered in an attempt to reaffirm, “I think I was born there. I must admit, its been too long for me to really remember now. It’s really beautiful, but it can’t compare to this…”

“I see,” She didn’t feel as though she could really fight him on this, not directly at least.

In the silence that followed, Blaze couldn’t help but tear her gaze from the skyline and attempt to look upon him again. His heart seemed to always be on his sleeve; he was perpetually trying not to lie but plainly obfuscating the truth. Now closer, she could make out little details that were lost on her before. While his missing arm and leg were the most obvious marks on his body, it was clear that the tattered shroud he wore was intended to cover more. On his muzzle, just beneath his left eye, was a thin but clear gash that stretched almost the entire length of his cheek. The hedgehog’s nose looked as though it had been broken at least once, the way his left shoulder seemed to slump suggested that arm hadn’t escaped unharmed too and he was missing no fewer than three teeth.

These injuries would make any normal person feel bad for the hedgehog, but something about them was impacting Blaze a magnitude more than she’d expected. She’d been to hospitals in the wake of disaster, she’d seen people with injuries like his and even far worse following great storms and fires and floods, and she had felt for them… but it had never seemed quite so personal. Perhaps it was because he was older and she had just lost Gardon, perhaps it was because he’d shown her kindness, but Blaze doubted that. It was probably because of the bizarre connection she had felt this entire time. Who was this old man, who had he loved and what was he doing here?

Despite that question hanging in her mind, a very different one fell from Blaze’s mouth, “Do you want to talk about your partner some more?”

Equal parts of his face read that he did and didn’t want to but, ultimately, he resumed his talk, “I remember every detail, every little thing about her, as if we were together only yesterday. The way she’d flinch and brace at every bump in the night, the way she’d try to hide her laugh whenever I was especially stupid, the purrs she’d babble whenever things were truly peaceful, how she’d fuss over me while bandaging my injuries only to fuss more when I offered to help with hers,” Emotion now seemed to be overwhelming him, he went from staring straight at the sunset to turning such that she couldn’t see more than the edge of his muzzle, “There was this word she’d use, scolding me but not scolding me every time she spoke it. I didn’t even know what it meant for ages; it took me until very recently to know just what she meant by it though…”

Before she could even puppet her tongue, a question forcibly spilled fourth, “What was that word?”

“Oh, I don’t think I can stand to say it,” Somehow, by only seeing the edge of his ears furrowing and the slightest shake of his body, the princess could tell that the old hedgehog was at least hurting if not actually crying, “I’m sorry.”

Carefully, slowly, Blaze reached out a hand to touch his shoulder. That contact seemed to freeze him entirely or, perhaps, it would be better said that her touch had petrified him, “There’s nothing to be sorry for, I’m sorry you lost someone you clearly cared so much for,” For whatever reason, even though it was what so many had said to her after Gardon’s death, that didn’t seem like enough, “But, judging by what you said when I first arrived, I’m sure she’d be very proud of you. It sounds like you’ve lived a difficult life and done more for your world than people will ever know.”

“She probably would be,” He turned back, eyes red and plainly tired. He rubbed at his eyes with his stub, “I suppose, I lived up to our agreement.”

“You had an agreement?” She automatically pried before instantly regretting her forwardness.

“We promised to save our world, regardless of the cost,” Those words carried a weight that, try as she might, Blaze couldn’t shake. He concluded with five simple words that carried a tremendous weight, “That cost was rather high.”

Again, words seemed to leave her before she could question whether it was right or wrong to ask, “Do you think it was worth it?”

“I like to think this was,” Pulling his hand from his face, he rubbed where his right hand should have been, “Other things though… no, not so much, but there’s no going back now. It’s too late now, there’s no way of making up for what we exchanged.”

Blaze didn’t even need to ask the next question on her mind- the gap was filled without her permission. He lost his partner, whoever this woman was, to their task, at what stage and age she had no idea, but Blaze could feel her heart bleeding for him. He was old and so there was no real way to know when he’d lost her, he talked as if it was recent but to her it felt as though she’d vanished from his life long ago. This was just so strange, Blaze felt so many things that she couldn’t express and couldn’t recall feeling before. Why was he talking with her about all this?

Floundering, struggling for something to raise his spirits, Blaze blurted, “W-What about the others? I assume you’ve spent time with Cream, Sonic, Amy, all of them? Bonding with them helped me, did it do the same for you?”

“To an extent, I can’t deny that, but I haven’t seen any of them for decades. I’ve been dealing with their children and their children’s children and so on…” Recalling that seemed to return some of the joy to his muzzle, “Their faces began to blur towards the end, I’m sure I called one of their furthest descendants Amy more often than by her own name,” He almost chuckled, “It feels like yours is the most unique face I’ve seen in years, Blaze.”

Not once had he referred to her as princess or by the likes of your majesty, he’d asked about it as her job but it clearly wasn’t who he considered her. The name Blaze seemed to fall from his mouth and slip into her ears so easily, as if it almost belonged in the space between the two of them. Venice didn’t seem as though it’d capture nearly the same space.

“But no, there was no replacing her; not even partially,” He managed to continue, bright eyes gleamed with light even as the sun was rapidly setting, “Knowing them helped certainly but it's only now, as I reach this twilight age, I’ve realised quite how much I miss her.”

Part of Blaze wanted to believe that was the only reason he was here, that the old man was a wandering soul that’d long lost its leash, but there was something in itching at the back of her head that told her that wasn’t true. Furthermore, while it sounded like there was some truth to what he’d said, it didn’t seem like the whole truth; his talk of forgetting echoed in her mind. Regardless of that though, this sad hedgehog had rather endeared himself to her and if she could help shed some of that weight from his shoulders then she’d have done good today.

“What was she like?” She more gently questioned.

“My partner was, and always will be, the best person I ever knew,” His remaining shoulder started to relax, his whole form seemed to loosen as his stare returned to the sunset, “She knew me better than I knew myself, whenever I was pushing myself too far she wouldn’t hesitate to stop me. Without even blinking, she wouldn’t hesitate to knock me down or tell me I was being foolish. My emotions would get the better of me rather often while, even though she usually felt the same as me, she subdued most of hers. Whenever she couldn’t though, whenever things grew too aggravating or a defeat crushed her, I was there as best as I could be to help,” Even though he was looking off into the distance, she could tell he was more imagining than staring at the sunset, “She’d read poetry and prose while I liked to play games and investigate history, but we shared a number of things…”

For whatever reason, though she assumed it to be second-hand embarrassment on the part of Venice’s long-lost partner, the way he’d phrased those first compliments and briefly regaled her with their history was warming the princess’ heart further still. She found herself shifting just a little closer, entirely enamoured with the way he talked about this woman. Though Blaze couldn’t even begin to picture this other time traveler in her mind, she felt as though she was familiar too. Albeit, in a very different way.

“The world we were born into was practically devoid of nature, plants refused to grow and rain rarely fell. The world of the past that we knew came from books and, of the collections of books we found, none would interest us like those tomes containing nature photography. They let us see waterfalls, lush green grass and sights we couldn’t have even fathomed,” He reminisced, “As soon as I found out about them, I’d compare her to a star so very often. It always seemed to embarrass her just a little, how I always thought they were so very pretty. I never meant it like that at the time, but hindsight and a life of living paints a rather different story. I was so very… well, it’s not her word, but I was very oblivious to both of our feelings.”

A few clouds had begun to drift, dusting the sky and obscuring the end of the sunset, but with a wave he rearranged the sky again. As he did so, she watched as his attention was pulled from that imagined place and arrived back at reality. What was pink had gradually drifted to a deeper red and the colour had begun to overwhelm the dark clouds that lingered upon it. Even as it was nearing its end, even if the sun would dip beneath the horizon in a matter of minutes, it was all still so beautiful.

“The way the sun paints the sky in such a natural way never ceases to amaze me. I love a bright blue sky, free of clouds, but the way this one contrasts and blurs them is just so…” The joy in his voice reached a crescendo, “I’m just so glad that I finally got to see this with you.”

“See this with me?” Blaze blinked; she’d been overjoyed to hear him talk so freely but that stumble caught her full attention.

Her questioning seemed to stop him in his tracks, just as it did her. What could he have possibly meant by that? Panic and regret crumpled his face, “Um, yes… I’m glad we could have our meeting, as in…” The hedgehog’s head quickly whipped from her again, “But it’s been so long, the sun’s almost set. I’m sorry, Blaze, I’ve taken up far too much of your time,” A flash of cyan emanated from beneath his robes and, before Blaze could even understand what was happening, he’d materialised a leg from light and risen to stand tall. His remaining hand was extended down to her, “I’m sure you must be very busy…”

“N-No, I… Venice,” As she took his hand and said that name for the first time, it felt so wrong in her mouth. It absolutely wasn’t his name, “I don’t know what has happened, or even who you truly are, but meeting you…” She scrambled for the right words, “I don’t know what it is, but I feel as if there’s much more to you. I’ve never talked to someone like this, let alone a stranger. We’ve hardly been together half an hour but-

“Th-That’s why I need to go, even that’s too long,” He grumbled before a pulsing hum began to overwhelm his words. He raised his remaining hand and from the ring in his palm a disk of cyan light was projected. With another gesture, it was pushed outwards and Blaze could see a swirling blue vortex within that hole, “I’ve probably stayed with you longer than I should have, I’m sorry.”

“Why did you actually come here? What did you come here to do?” Why was her voice wavering? Why was she getting louder? What did it matter if this stranger left? “You can’t have crossed time and space just to see me, why would you do that?”

“Even if things aren’t perfect, I’m glad you’re safe and comfortable here,” He wasn’t listening to her or, at the very least, he wasn’t acknowledging her words, “Please try to enjoy yourself. If you get the opportunity, please be with your friends more and live the life you want to live. You were…” He managed to look at her again, smiling while his eyes were stained red with tears, “You are brilliant, Blaze. I’m so glad I made it here before the end,” Without turning from her, he stumbled forward and vanished into that void.

Her immediate reflex was to follow but the hole collapsed on itself and vanished in the air, spluttering out his final words, “Good luck,” as it vanished from reality.

Alone on the docks, left with only the sound of the waves and the whistling of wind, Blaze felt something inside her ache in a way she’d never ached before. Who was that figure, why did she care, what had he meant by his end and why had he come? She didn’t feel like she was watching one of her citizens die, she didn’t even feel as she had at Gardon’s funeral; this was alien to her and yet so familiar.

Having only risen to her feet a moment ago, she stumbled back and ended up sitting on the dock again. Ahead of her was the sky that he’d cleared, the sun had just dipped beneath the horizon. It was only a matter of time before his last impact on the world would be blown away, clouds were already encroaching on the space he’d made. He’d be wiped from this world, the ship’s he’d revived for Marine would surely sink again, but, for some reason, that old man had claimed an eternal place within the princess’ soul.

Why that was and who he was she’d surely never know, but she hoped her heart would stop aching soon.

#sonamysilvazeweek2021 #silvaze #Silver the Hedgehog #Blaze the Cat #sonic the hedgehog #angst #fanfic #marine the raccoon

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harrysweasleys · 5 years ago

Text

a lesson in chemistry // r.l

summary: hey! i was wondering if you could do one where the reader does really bad in a test and remus comforts her? thank u!!

warnings: none

word count: 2.6k

a/n: i am close to 1k and was thinking of doing an event but i know i’m gonna forget and it’s just not going to go well so i just wanna say THANK YOU to all you sweet sweet beings for following my mess of a blog! :)

——

Moonstone. Powdered porcupine quills. Powdered unicorn horn.

The three ingredients repeated themselves over and over in your head as you sat by yourself in the common room nearing two o’clock in the morning, the messy notebook spread open in front of you as your eyes tried to droop shut.

It was nearly impossible for you to focus on the fuzzy words, but you forced yourself to stay as awake as you possibly could so that tomorrow’s quiz would be a breeze. That’s why you were studying, wasn’t it?

Remus and Sirius had promised to help you out, but the two had trudged off to bed nearly an hour ago, practically already asleep. For two people who seemed so adamant on ‘all nighters’ they had gone to bed rather early, in your opinion. You quite missed their company — Remus more than Sirius — and wished you could at least have someone here to help keep your mind sharp.

But, here you were, all by your lonesome and wrapped in a scarlet and gold knitted blanket that your parents had made you, the crackling fireplace heating you up, and the words in front of you making you sleepy.

You couldn’t comprehend why no one else seemed stressed or even worked up about this quiz — exam, actually — which made studying it just that much more frustrating. You figured people would care about their marks and scores, right?

“The potion should result in a cool blue colour,” you mumbled to no one in particular, the words trying their best to etch into your brain, “A cool blue colour. Not to be mistaken with Draught of Peace which is a warm blue colour.”

You let out a quiet groan and rested your head against the back of the couch cushion. Potions class was never your strong suit, but you had found it fascinating. And, of course, hou didn’t want to seem like you were lost, so studying hours on end seemed to be the only passing solution here.

The large ticking clock on the wall told you it was five minutes past two o’clock, and the exam was at ten o’clock the next day. Only eight hours left for you to memorize every last word.

Eight hours.

As you glanced back down at the book, your eyes felt heavier than they were not a minute ago, and your head felt as if it were on a cloud. The room around you seemed to vanish down a long, long tunnel...

——

“D’you think if we poke her she’ll jump?”

“Sirius, that’s just rude.”

“C’mon, it’d be funny though. What if we poured pumpkin juice on her?”

“No, let’s just calmly wake her up.”

“You’re boring, Remus.”

Your eyes fluttered open to two overly familiar faces crouched in front of you. Remus, his hair messy and his eyes watching you cautiously, and Sirius with his signature smirk.

“Get out of my face,” you sat up, throwing the blanket off of and trying to figure out where you were. The Gryffindor common room felt very different when you were waking up in it.

The fire embers were burning low and the morning sunlight blazed through the windows, the room brighter than it had ever seemed before. The blanket was still comfortable draped over your body, warm and comforting, and the heavy textbook was still open on your lap with the page slightly crumpled as your hand rested upon it.

Suddenly, as if hit by a train once you noticed the book, you remembered, “Bloody hell, it’s the Potions quiz today.”

Remus chuckled, “Relax. It’s in, like, an hour.”

You threw the blanket off of your body and grabbed the book, shaking your head, “You don’t get it, Remus. I don’t know anything.”

“That can’t be true,” Remus furrowed his eyebrows at you.

Sirius pat you on the shoulder, sitting next to you on the couch and closing the book with a loud thump, “You’ll be fine. You just need to eat.”

So you let the two boys lead you down to the Great Hall, where the loud hustle and bustle of the early morning made it nearly impossible to focus on the jumble of words on the worn out pages in front of you. The book, although informative, was clearly written for someone who actually understood what the hell everything meant. And it was harder to understand anything when the ruckus around you made it difficult to even read said things.

It bothered you greatly that Remus — the person you considered your best friend — didn’t seem to care about the exam. Were you overreacting?

It wasn’t your fault, really. You took schoolwork very seriously and sometimes that meant overreacting. Over-studying. Over-planning. All of the above.

But, better to be safe than sorry — isn’t that the saying?

When the Great Hall crowd became dispersed, you knew that meant classes were beginning and you felt your nerves kick in at the thought. You shut the book rather loudly and followed Remus to the Potions classroom, no words being exchanged between the two of you — which you were thankful for, to be honest.

“You got this,” Remus flashed you a grin as you slowly walked into the class together, taking your usual seats in the middle. You didn’t like being too close, nor too far from the teacher. These seats were perfect.

“I don’t need false hope,” you groaned, resting your head on the table, “I need answers.”

He chuckled, “Sorry, you know me. I can’t cheat. But if this test goes wrong, I can tutor you.”

You lifted your head quickly, a bright red spot on your forehead from where it was previously pressed up against the wooden desk, “Wait, really? You’d do that?”

“Of course,” he smirked, running his hand through his hair in a stupidly attractive manner, “What are friends for?”

You flashed him a bright grin, “Oh, you’re the best, Remus.”

His cheeks turned slightly pink as he smiled back, lowering his head slightly as he flushed at the compliment. You felt your heart leap at his flustered state, unsure why the strange feeling decided to make its home in your chest.

You brushed it aside as the professor entered the class and handed out the quiz papers, making sure every student was silent and that no cheating would occur.

Within the first glance at the page, your heart sunk, all previous fluttery feelings gone. You had been so focused on remembering ingredients and potion colours that you forgot to study their purposes. The entire first page was asking about what each potion did and who they helped best. And you hadn’t even brushed on that subject during your late night study session.

Long story short, you were screwed.

You closed your eyes, thinking long and hard about each answer, writing down whatever felt right. It was always good to trust your gut instinct right?

In this case, it didn’t feel so right, but you went with it anyways.

What felt like two hours was only really thirty minutes, and the quiz was officially out of your hands. You felt ashamed handing it back — you knew your Professor would think you were a fool, a student who found excuses not to study. And that feeling was nagging you throughout the remainder of class.

“You don’t look so good,” Remus nudged your shoulder once you packed up your books, your entire body slouched and your lips curved downwards into a frown.

“I botched that so bad,” you groaned, tossing your head back and closing your book bag, throwing it over your shoulder, “I was too tired last night and didn’t study everything I wanted to.”

Empathetically, Remus wrapped his arm around your shoulder, guiding you out of the crowded class. You were too busy sulking to pay attention to the fact that Sirius, James and Peter weren’t even with you guys.

“I’ll help you,” Remus said, voice laced with confidence, “I don’t want you doubting your intelligence so I, Remus Lupin, appoint myself as your own personal tutor.”

“Can people self-appoint themselves that?” your face broke into a grin, his humorous antics thankfully distracting you from your disappointment, “You’re too much.”

“But you love me,” he ruffled your hair, removing his arm from around you and slipping his hand into his pocket.

You chuckled, shaking your head as your heart leapt in your chest, “I really do.”

——

“I failed.”

Your voice was weak and quiet as you sat down on the Gryffindor table bench during lunch the week after, your mood rather sour. You had been incredibly worked up that morning, knowing you’d be getting your test results. But now that you’d gotten them, you wanted nothing more than to go back in time where you didn’t have to deal with the reality of the failure.

Remus’ face fell and he placed his hand on your knee, “Ah, I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t do so well either. I think this test was marked more strictly than they usually are.”

Though you appreciated the effort, it didn’t lift your spirits.

“I didn’t think I’d do bad enough to actually fail,” you sighed, slouching your shoulders and resting your elbows lazily on the table, “I’m mad at myself.”

“Hey,” Remus lifted his hand off of your knee and poked you in the shoulder, “Stop that. Seriously. Don’t put yourself down so much.”

“Hard not to,” you leaned forwards and rested your head on your hand, eyeing the food with a frown. Your appetite wasn’t present at the moment.

Remus snapped his fingers in front of your face, “I’m serious, Y/N. I’m here to help you, yeah? We’ll get through this. We’ll improve together. The next quiz won’t even stand a chance against us.”

You wanted to keep sulking, but his words brought a smile to your face. Remus had a way of cheering you up — him and his ways. Something about him.. you just couldn’t stay upset around him.

“Thanks,” you grinned, lifting your arm and poking him in the shoulder as he had done to you previously, “I do feel a little better.”

“Good!” he flashed you a toothy grin, his eyes brightening, “That’s always the intention.”

You stared at him for a good moment, the smile not leaving your face. His freckles seemed more visible than usual, his hair lighter and his eyelashes long against his cheeks each time he blinked. Though his hair was thin and brown, his eyelashes were thicker and darker — it was rather cute. His eyes had specks of green in them and, you had never really noticed before, they had some grey in them too.

You had to snap yourself out of the trance he left you in, unaware and unsure as to what caused it.

Had you just checked Remus out? No. Couldn’t be. He was your friend. Friend. Best friend.

You took a deep breath and began filling your plate, appetite suddenly back. You filled your stomach with chicken pot pie and potatoes, hoping that the faster you ate, the better you’d feel.

But nope.

Though your mind was off of your test, you somehow felt even worse. Remus was all you could focus on. His closeness, his kindness, his warmth, his smell.

“Ready for the afternoon?” Remus stuck his hand out to you as he stood up, shaking you from your weirdly romantic thoughts.

“What?” you blinked, “Oh — yeah, sorry.”

You shook your head and stood up, linking your hand with his as the two of you left the hall and took off towards your next class.

——

“No, no,” Remus shook his head, “You need to add this.”

You stared blankly down at the messy piece of parchment, nodding your head slowly, trying to remember which potion you guys had been talking about in the first place.

“Uh — which one again?” you asked sheepishly, your ears burning at the obvious fact that you weren’t paying attention, “Sorry.”

He let out a small laugh, placing his finger on the page in front of you, “This.”

You were glad that the library was quiet at this time of day, the cloudy weekend morning meaning most students would be choosing to start their day relaxing around in their pyjamas and drinking pumpkin juice.

You, however, while others students got to relax and spend the morning doing nothing, you had the great misfortune of being dragged out of the common room by an equally tired Remus.

“The library is empty in the morning,” he had said at your repeated groaning.

And he was right. The library was empty. The only sound you could hear was your quill scratching against your parchment and Remus’ whispered voice trying to teach you while respecting the library noise rules.

“What potion uses porcupine quills and peppermint sprigs?” he asked, resting his head on his hands and staring at you intently, his eyes focused on you and only you.

“Uh—,” you fought the urge to look down at your parchment notes, “Elixor to Induce Euphoria.”

He grinned, raising his hand to high five you, which you gladly accepted, “See! You got this!” You felt your face warm up at the contact and compliment.

“Next question,” he smirked, leaning even closer to you, “What would you say if I asked you to come to Hogsmeade for a drink?”

“I — what?”

As if the wind was knocked out of you, you couldn’t utter a single sound. Had you heard him right? There was no way.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” he chuckled.

But you still couldn’t find the words.

Yes, you had recently looked at Remus differently, but had it been a crush? It didn’t seem like it at first — but as you looked at him now, his face illuminated by the light outside and the way his hair stuck up in odd places, you realized you did like him.

You liked him. Him and his boisterous laugh, his nervous nail-biting habits, his love for poetry and snow. You loved how he’d always be there for you, ready to crack a corny joke when you were feeling down in the dumps. You loved how he’d always have a book recommendation and a long list of reasons why it would be worth the read. You loved how he always had the neatest handwriting, his notes providing you with bits of information you’d miss in class. How he’d always look forward to dessert because of how delicious he found the pumpkin pasties.

And all it took was him asking you out for you to realize you were falling for your best friend.

“I’d actually like that,” you nodded, aware that your cheeks were probably glowing but you were too giddy to care at the moment. Somehow, you felt as if this was right. There was no strangeness about him asking you — it somehow felt as if you had been waiting ages for him to do so.

“Thank Merlin,” he sighed, relaxing his entire body as his face lit up, “Next weekend?”

“Hm, can’t think of anything I’m doing,” you tapped your finger against your chin, eyebrows raised and your cheeks beginning to hurt from the bright smile you were sending his way. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this giddy.

He leaned across the table and linked his hands in yours. You melted into the contact, using your elbow to push your parchment and quill out of the way so you could lean forwards without fear of ruining your notes or your sweater.

Safe to say, studying was now long forgotten.

—

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(message me to be added!)

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shadowsfascination · 4 years ago

Text

Shadamy Swordland | ch. 5 | Lead the Way!

It was still early and therefore dark on a cold February morning when a caped Shadow and a cloaked Amy silently prowled around the academy grounds. Crossing the main square once again to get to the outskirts of the district, a blanket of fresh snow softly crackled under their shoes. The snow covered the herringbone-laid brick on the streets and the lack of daylight gave the snow a blueish glow. It sure has something enchanting-, Amy though to herself.

Treading lightly in attempt to make as little noise as possible, Amy exhaled in her already cold hands. The warm vapor of her breath felt nice on them for a brief moment, but they quickly grew even colder than before. She always wore gloves, but the her usual ones were thin and she forgot to put on her winter gloves this morning. Even when she’d placed them on the table next to the door, that was.

Shadow wasn’t much affected by the cold. He’d wrapped his scarf around her neck and provided her one of his sweaters as well before they’d hit the road. It wasn’t hard to captivate his scent like this and it reminded Amy of the time she had had a secret crush on her trainer. Before every training session she used to ‘accidentally’ put her coat over his on the coat rack. It provided her coat with his masculine scent and she would secretly dwell in it afterwards. Back in the days it’d felt bittersweet to her because he wasn’t interested in her and she believed of them to have neither future or potential together.

While walking in silence through the cold morning Amy wondered why they were walking in the first place. Now that she’d learnt about his special ‘chaos’ skills, he didn’t need to hide them any longer- from her that was. Shadow explained to her that using his special skills, like warping, cost a high amount of energy. With the gemstone Shadow liked to refer to as a ‘Chaos emerald’, believed to be far away from South Island, there already was little energy to begin with. The thought of wasting the precious energy for every little thing was to be unheard of to him and so they trothed onwards through the snow.

The pink hedgehog researched every bit of information available about the tale yesterday. With the help of her dear friend Miles she collected a remarkable amount of notes on the subject when she left the library. Amy felt inspired and was eager to start this adventure, especially when the actual hero of the story was involved right here, right now. Still, she felt a little uneasy because she felt like some of her notes were missing. A couple of lines got stuck in her head and she couldn’t remember whether they were something she read or written down. Her mind drifted off and she went through yesterday’s events one more time:

__________________________________________________________

“Plagues, Miles, loosen up!”

'Miles', which was Tails’ his actual name, handed his friend a paper towel to wipe her hands before diving into the historic tales together. According to Amy he took his duty of keeping the books in his library in the best condition possible way too serious. The fox had, uncharacteristic as it was, assertively told her: ‘my library, my rules’.

Amy did as she was asked and grasped a notebook from her bag. In a zealous way she penned down everything that seemed important for their search, making sure the lay-out of her notes looked like a summary for a test. She dug through the pile of books Tails had picked out for her. She chuckled when she saw the many small, coloured pieces of paper sticking out of their pages. She was lucky to have a friend like him, even when there actually was no test to prepare for.

Amy lost herself in the exciting facts she came to know. Tails busied himself with other things like speaking to visitors and organizing the books on the countless shelves. Aqueous sunlight shone through the tall, stained-glass windows, drawing long shadows every time someone passed by. The colours of the glass-paintings broke the light into more subtle beams. After an hour or so, Amy’s eyes grew tired from the pleasant warmth of the sun through the windows, slowing down her pace. She yawned and decided it was time for a break. Tails went out to the kitchen to make them some tea.

Amy wavered through the things she wrote down and contemplated about where to start searching for the gemstone. She fell back in her seat and fixed her gaze on the ceiling and was surprised to find wood-carved illustrations on some of the beams.

The guardians of the jewel are echidnas… she quietly muttered.

Amy walked up to a bookcase and started looking for the letter ‘E’ until she found an informative book about Echidnas. She grabbed the book rushed through its’ pages. A map of their planet, portrayed on the next page showed the various locations of well-known echidna populations throughout the planet. She read out loud:

“‘Echidnas can live anywhere from mountainous peaks to deserts… They are able to cope with extreme weather…’”

Suddenly the door was swung open and a blue tornado-like wind whirled through the library, swirling up loose pieces of paper to spread them all over the place. A thumping of footfalls on the wooden floor accompanied this outburst of chaos before coming to a stop and bumping into the table because ‘it’ reduced its’ speed too late. Amy’s quills were blown into her face and she hurried back to the table. Her notes fluttered around and a well-known blue hedgehog laid clumsily spread across the table; Sonic the Hedgehog.

Sonic was a student like her, training to become a knight within the high order of knights like Shadow. He was Blaze’s student, who was a close friend of hers. It was a shame the cat had so little time to hang out, Amy thought when thinking about her friend. Sonic and Amy got along fine, but didn’t talk that often.

“Whoops… Hi Amy!”

“My notes! Sonic… look at the mess you’ve made!”

She impatiently tapped her foot at him, her hands planted on her sides.

“What are you waiting for? Go help me gather them!”

He jumped up and hastily grasped some notes. Amy collected some as well and snatched the untidy pile of the now crinkled pages out of Sonic’s hands.

___________________________________________________________

Amy swallowed. Either Sonic or Tails could have found her missing pages.

Well, can’t do much about it now, so I gotta let it go.

She shrugged the thought off and stepped forward into much more white than she expected and gasped when ice cold snow dripped into her boots.

“Right on time.”

Rouge waved at the two she could barely believe got together. Shadow’s breastplate reflected the fierce light from the now upcoming sun. Rouge squinted her eyes and covered them with her hands. She was clothed in a thick robe, matching gloves and boots and a purple, turtleneck-like scarf was wrapped around her neck.

“Tone it down, will ya? I’m already not too fond of being out in the sunlight.”

“Tough luck. Now, shall we?”

He pointed to the east from where they were standing, to an entrance of a cave. The females nodded and the three of them footed their way to the foot of the mountain. Leaving the countless fir trees and the snow behind when entering the cave, Rouge couldn’t be more pleased. The climate in the cave was damp and warm, noticeably less cold than the outside air, much to her satisfaction. Amy used an easy sacred art spell to light the torch they brought and she stepped forward to lead the way.

“I’m not complaining or anything, but why are we in this place?”

“The tale says that the stone is guarded by the designated echidna family. Echidnas like to dig.”

Rouge was already halfway through the breath she’d drawn to protest when she sensed something that cut off her opposition. Even though Amy’s starting point was built on a hasty conclusion, she might be right, Rouge thought to herself. Casting a spell under her breath, Rouge attempted to draw out chaos affected spores in the air. They showed her the amount of present chaos energy in her surroundings. Even when there were none to be found yet, Shadow caught on to the increasing activity of her sacred arts.

“Trust me. I’ve done plenty of research and I’ve got a real good feeling about this.”

“It’s a little too early to trust you already, hun.”

“For starters: don’t call me that.”

In the blink of an eye Amy drew her rapier and with a swift, yet threatening move she swung it towards Rouge, forcing her to a stop. The bat blinked before lowering her eyelids. Amy found it hard to name that expression. All she knew was she didn’t care for it. She felt mocked in a way. A grin spread across Shadow’s muzzle, a hint of that mocking expression Rouge had playing his eyes.

“You don’t wanna mess with her, Rouge. Especially when she’s angry.”

“Second: I don’t think you have much of a choice but to trust us.” Amy said.

“Geez! Fine, I’ll drop the nickname if you insist.”

“I do. By the way, I’ve been wondering: how’d you two meet?”

Amy hid her rapier in its’ sheathe again. Shadow and Rouge shared a glance, the flickering light of the torch casting a warm glow on their skin.

“Go ahead, tell her. I couldn’t care less.”

“Rouge used to be a member of the high order of knights. We worked together for a period of time. She was fired though because of a rather unfortunate incident.”

“Hmph! Coward! ‘Unfortunate incident’?! You don’t even dare to call me a thief, do ya?”

“Trust me, when it comes to being blunt, you’re outmatched, but unlike you I don’t enjoy putting someone on the spot and talk trash.”

“Anyway…!”- Rouge snorted, ignored Shadow and increased the volume in her voice. “I endeavoured to steal some beautiful regal gems, got caught and have been an outcast ever since.”

“Why did you do that?” Amy asked her.

“I was pregnant and in need of money.”

“You had your loan, right? That should’ve been more than enough.” Shadow said in a crude way.

Without anyone being aware of it they had stopped walking. Rouge turned towards Shadow with crossed arms.

“You’re such an oblivious fool, Shadow! No knight in the high order can have kids while serving. They would’ve fired me either way. I was about to become a mother without a job and a roof above my head. Desperate times call for desperate measures! And on top of that: those jewels were absolutely gorgeous! It’s a shame I didn’t get my hands on them.”

Shadow’s ears fell back, gaze fixed on the ground by now. Even when she didn’t see his eyes, she read his shock from his posture.

“You … didn’t know?”

“Correct. The board clearly left out the pregnancy part when they explained your departure. How despicable.”

“That doesn’t surprise me at all. Let’s forget about it already.”

“That’s no way to treat a lady!” Amy hissed.

“I never even noticed you were pregnant at the time.”

“Again: not surprised. The Shadow I knew was never the least bit interested in women or anything even slightly related to romance, sex or intimacy. That sure changed.” Rouge shifted her eyes to Amy, who smiled an awkward smile.

“I told you before: don’t interfere.”

“I’m not. Just saying it as it is.”

“And what’s that?”

“You’re in a relationship, for crying out loud! Believe you me, I’ve never had an interest in you like that. Though I couldn’t help but wonder who on the planet could ever manage to break down those sky high walls you’ve put up over the years. I haven’t seen you in ages, Shadow. To see this cute pink hedgehog beside you… I’m just surprised you know…”

Amy was unsure whether this was a compliment or if Rouge was belittling her, which was sure to be a mistake. She locked eyes with her lover, who simply shrugged and told her Rouge wasn’t wrong about her being cute.

“I have to admit I’m impressed, Amy. You even got him to defile his oath and break the rules he’s so hang up on to follow.”

“Let’s drop the subject and just keep walking, okay?” Shadow sneered.

While continuing their search, Amy asked about Rouge’s kids. Rouge unravelled they were twins; a boy and a girl who were at the age of 4 now. The bat seemed fine with her questions and so Amy asked everything she liked to know and didn’t hold back. The pregnancy had surprised the now mother of two at the time. Somehow the guy who knocked her up wasn’t around anymore and it was just her and her two little troublemakers, as she called them.

Gradually the atmosphere between the trio got a friendly note to it. Rouge even teased Shadow, setting him on edge by saying he didn’t need to worry about the kids being his. With aggravated frown and deadpanned expression he stated it was an unnecessary thing to say. He could feel her eyes bore into the back of his head and pictured the kind of grimace that surely curled her lips.

They hit a bifurcation from where the tunnel divided into two separate corridors. Rouge drew out the chaos spores in the air to determine which way to go. They looked like a turquoise equivalent of fireflies. They swirled around in the air for a moment and then concentrated on the left corridor. It was the first time Amy witnessed a visible form of chaos energy and she was mesmerised by it.

A self-complacent smile curved the full lips of the bat-woman when she passed by Amy, her curved hips swaying as she did so. She lead the way while following the swarm-like chaos spores. With every step they made into the corridor its’ amount increased like a silent promise they were on the right track. The trio, now filled with curiosity and excitement, picked up the pace and Rouge peeked around the corner. She abruptly came to a stop and gave a muffled cry.

“A dead end?!”

Rouge cursed out loud, addressing the spores like they were a person who’d betrayed her. The three looked up to the bolt of energy whizzing above their heads. Shadow tapped at his cheek with his index finger, clearly brooding over the possibilities.

“Maybe not.”

Shadow stretched out his arms and absorbed the chaos energy from the spores to grasp the hands of the others next. At their touch a blue-greenish luminary flash gushed through them, increasing both their transparency and transcendence. He briefly informed them about his plan to jump through the ceiling, letting their chaos-affected bodily forms break the molecular structure of the rocks apart. The two women strongly disagreed with his plan. Feeling rather confident about this, he decided not to care about their opinions. He simply grabbed one of their arms and jumped up.

“This should work!”

_________________________________________

Summary: Shadow, Amy and Rouge begin their search for the gemstone after Amy thoroughly prepares their adventure with the help of her dear friend Tails. While on the road, Rouge opens up about surprising events from her past. ______________________________ Pffft, this felt more like a puzzle than a story to me. Never have I dragged so many alineas up and down the page to fit everything into place. I also struggled with translations of figure of speach here. One of the downsides of writing in English for me... Even so, when I translated a small part of ch 1 into my native language, it felt both off and odd to me. Also: sorry about the lenght! - Like always: share your thoughts if you will and send me a not for annoying typo's or grammar mishaps. I'd really appreciate it! <3 - I uploaded this and some other stories/oneshots on AO3 recently. Username's the same as always

@shadamyheadcanons : promised to keep you updated

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