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foreverisntenough · 4 months ago

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‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 7 - Madrid or Manhattan | ‘Act II’

word count - 11.2k

The following day, you couldn’t take the distance or the unknown any longer. That night had been a blur of bad decisions and misplaced anger, and now, with a mildly more clear head, you knew what you had to do. You needed to see Jude, to confront him, to figure out where you two stood. The thought of him with someone else, or worse, of him moving on from you, was unbearable. You had to know if there was anything left to salvage. You had acted out and you’d need to fix this or put it to bed. Once again, in a last ditch effort, without hesitation, you booked a flight back to Madrid, your heart racing as you imagined what might happen when you saw Jude again. If he had done it again—if he had been with someone else since your last conversation—you knew you would have to walk away for good. But deep down, you hoped that wasn’t the case. You hoped that Jude had been as miserable as you had, that he had spent every moment thinking of you. You didn’t tell him you were coming, you wanted him to not know in case he was with someone else. That’d be it for you. You were racking up flight miles. The environment was screaming at you but you took another flight anyway. When you arrived at Jude’s house, your nerves were frayed, your emotions teetering on the edge. The lack of sleep catching up to you. You didn’t bother with the formalities this time, just knocked on the door and waited, your heart pounding in your chest. When Jude opened the door, his surprise was evident, but there was something else in his eyes too—relief.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his voice a mix of surprise and something that sounded like hope. “You’re here.” Jude felt his heart beat slow down to a point where he wasn’t sure if you were really there or if he was imagining things.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice wavering slightly. “I’m here.” You stood there for a moment, neither of you knowing what to say, until Jude stepped aside to let you in. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on you.

“Looked like you’d been having fun lately. Saw the posts,” Jude admitted as you sat down on the same sage green couch that used to be a place of comfort until your relationship or whatever with him was shattered in a moment by him, the tension palpable. He didn’t mean to sound so passive and short but he was hurt. “I know what you were doing. And I hated every second of it.” You winced hearing him call you out layered with a bit of anger of your own too.

“Having fun?” Your eyes narrowed on him, annoyed he said that. “Whatever. That was the point,” you replied, not unkindly, but with a bitterness that lingered in your voice. “I was angry, Jude. I didn’t know how else to make you understand how much you hurt me.” And when you told Jude that you had slept with someone to spite him for doing the same, it hit him harder than he expected.

“I know I messed up,” Jude said, his voice thick with regret, tears building on his waterline. “I haven’t done anything but think about you since you left. I was so stupid, so insecure, and I let it get the best of me. But I haven’t been with anyone else, Y/N. I swear.” Jude took a deep breath. You studied his face, searching for any sign that he was lying, but all you saw was the same regret and pain you had been carrying. The anger you had been holding onto started to crumble, replaced by a deep, aching sadness.

“I have though…” You cried. A sight Jude hadn’t expected. He knew you were upset but he put it down to anger but sadness, a broken heart, he could barely look at you. He felt more sick than before knowing that he made you feel this way. He knew. You tried to take a deep breath but you were shaking. He knew you well enough to know how you’d respond to him hooking up with someone else. The divide between you was so vast you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to build a bridge. The jealousy and hurt twisted in his gut as he realized that the thought of you with anyone else was unbearable. To know you were in someone else’s bed made him sick. It had been building since he slept with another girl but as he heard it roll off your tongue, that was the moment Jude understood that what he felt for you went far beyond just liking you—he was in love with you. The idea of losing you, the girl he had uncontrollably and unintentionally fell in love with made him feel physically ill, bringing all his buried emotions to the surface. You sat on the edge of the couch as emotions flooded you once over, your face buried in your hands as you cried softly. The weight of everything that had happened between you two felt unbearable, like it was crushing you from the inside out. Jude stood up in front of you, his face loosing color and filled with a mixture of hurt and helplessness. He hadn’t said much since you admitted it—admitted that you’d slept with someone after you found out about him and the other girl. You hated it. Hated that you had hurt him, hated that you had hurt yourself in the process. But more than anything, you hated how much you still cared about him, how much you wanted him even now. “I don’t understand,” you choked out through your tears, your voice breaking. “I don’t understand why I like you so much, even after everything. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t feel this way, but I do.”

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice soft but strained. “It’s okay. I know you’re hurting.” Jude knelt down in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face, his thumb brushing away your tears.

“I don’t want to be hurting!” you snapped, the frustration boiling over. “I hate this. I hate that I like you so much, Jude. I hate that even when I try to move on, you’re all I think about. You’re the only thing I’ve thought about since I left here. Just you all fucking day. I’ve done nothing else.” You whined. Jude winced, clearly pained by your words, but he didn’t pull away. He wasn’t sure how he felt that you were so distraught over the idea of liking and thinking of him the way you were.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I know it hurts. But you’re not alone. I feel the same.” He just stayed there, holding your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours. You shook your head, the tears coming harder now.

“But you don’t. You don’t know how much it hurts. You slept with someone else, I slept with someone else… How are we supposed to come back from that?” You cried. Jude took a deep breath, his hands dropping to your shoulders, steadying you.

“Because none of that matters to me anymore. What matters is that you’re here, with me. And I don’t want you to leave.” Jude hummed, holding onto you firmly. He leaned forward resting his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath.

“What are you saying?” You blinked at him, your heart aching at his words. Jude knew he should tell you why. Tell you how he really felt but those words couldn’t come out.

“I’m saying… I need you,” Jude whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to do this without you. You’re the only person who makes me feel like… like everything’s going to be okay. Even when it’s not.” He took another deep breath. Your chest tightened at his confession, and despite all the hurt, all the mistakes, a part of you wanted to believe him. A part of you needed to believe him. “Stay,” he said softly, his eyes pleading. “Stay in Madrid with me. With me tonight, whenever you want. Please. We’re both hurting, I know that. But you’re the only one who makes me feel better. Holding you is the only thing that’s going to make it better.” Jude thought he might start crying so he let his eyelids flutter close.

“What if it happens again, Jude? What if we hurt each other all over again?” You looked away, your heart racing, the fear creeping in.

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I swear. I just… I just want you. I need you.” He shook his head, his grip on you tightening. You felt yourself breaking down, the tears flowing again as you leaned into him. Jude wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, holding you as if he was afraid to let go.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered. You clung to him, your sobs muffled against his shirt.

“You can,” Jude murmured into your hair. “I know you can. I know we can.” You stayed like that, wrapped in each other, both of you hurting but unwilling to let go. It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t even close, but in that moment, the only thing that mattered was that you were together. You didn’t know what the future held, or if you could ever truly move past the pain, but you knew one thing for sure: you weren’t ready to walk away. Not yet.

“I was so scared, Jude,” you whispered, your voice breaking as the tears spilled over again. “I didn’t want to fall for you because I knew this would happen. I knew I’d get hurt. I knew this would happen.” You pouted with a quivering bottom lip.

“I’m so sorry, angel,” he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. Jude reached for you, pulling you into his arms, the tears soaking into his shirt. He held you close, his heart breaking as he felt just how deeply he had wounded you. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling. But I want to make this right. I want you here, with me. I don’t want to lose you.” He whispered. You clung to him, the floodgates unable to close as you let out all the pain and fear you had been carrying. In that moment, in Jude’s arms, you felt a flicker of hope maybe you’d be able to rebuild what had been broken.

“I want to stay,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both fear and hope. “But I’m scared, Jude. I’m too scared of getting hurt again. You really hurt me.” You cried.

“I know,” he said softly. Jude held you tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure this out together, I promise.” And for the first time since you fled Madrid, you let yourself believe that you could. You went to sleep in Jude’s room that night in an intense silence. The air was thick with tension, as if every unspoken word, every bottled emotion had made the room smaller, tighter, almost suffocating. You had come all this way to see if there was anything left to salvage between you and Jude, but now, lying next to him in bed, you weren’t sure. The silence between you was intense, almost unbearable, but the thought of letting go was more painful. His arms were wrapped around you, and you couldn’t tell where his body ended and yours began. You weren’t sure if it was humanly possible to be as close as you two were in his bed. Despite the space you tried to keep between your minds and hearts, your bodies refused to acknowledge it. It wasn’t the same as before though. There were no whispered kisses or soft laughter. This wasn’t passion, it was desperation—an instinctual need to be close, to hold on to the only thing that felt familiar in a world that was quickly unraveling. You both stayed still for a long time, as if moving or speaking would shatter whatever fragile thing was keeping you together. The warmth of his chest against your back was the only thing grounding you, and yet it felt distant, too. Occasionally, you could feel him shift, his breath shaky, a small sniffle escaping him. In the quiet, you realized he was crying too, though he tried to hide it, just like you were. Tears silently streamed down your face, soaking into the pillow beneath you and you were pretty sure some of them would drip onto his arm. You didn’t even bother wiping them away. You weren’t sure if he could feel them, or if he already knew, but part of you hoped he did. Maybe it would save you the trouble of trying to explain the heartbreak clawing at your chest. Every breath felt heavy, every second drawn out, weighted by the regret hanging between you. The things you hadn’t said. The feelings you hadn’t admitted. The mistakes you both made that had led you here—together but impossibly apart. The words ‘I love you’ hovered unspoken in the room, almost too big to say aloud, but they screamed in your mind. If you said them now, would it fix things? Or would it make them worse? You weren’t sure. There were moments where you thought you felt Jude shift closer, as if he was trying to gather the courage to say something, but he never did. The silence remained, only occasionally broken by your mutual sniffles or the rustle of sheets. You wanted to scream, to shake him, to demand he say something, anything, but instead, you just lay there, clinging to him as if letting go would break you entirely. Hours passed, but sleep didn’t come. How could it, with so much between you that still needed to be said? The weight of it all pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe, hard to think clearly. But even then, even through the pain and confusion, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else but here, in this bed, with him. You didn’t know what the morning would bring—if you would still be holding each other or if the final goodbye was waiting on the other side of this silence—but for now, this was all you had. And even though it hurt, even though it felt like it might break you both, neither of you could let go.

That morning it was tense but Jude thought that if you flew here you must have craved the same thing he did. You wanted to close this distance. The morning air in Madrid was still cool, the early sun spilling into the room like a quiet reminder of everything left unsaid. You stood in the en-suite, your hands gripping the edge of the sink as you brushed your teeth, staring blankly at your reflection. It wasn’t just the exhaustion from travel, or even the tension that clung to the air like a suffocating fog—it was everything. Every decision, every misstep, and most of all, the pain that weighed down your chest like a heavy stone. When you finished, you walked back into the bedroom, the tension palpable in the silence between you and Jude. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, fiddling with his phone, his jaw set in a way that told you he was thinking too hard about what to say.

“Do you want breakfast?” Without looking up, he finally broke the silence, his voice quiet and almost too casual. It was an olive branch, awkward and uncertain, but it was something. You nodded, still feeling the weight of everything between you both as you glanced toward the balcony. The doors were open now, letting the morning breeze drift through. Jude had laid out breakfast on the small table outside—nothing too grand, just simple plates and chairs, but it was thoughtful. In that moment, despite everything, it was exactly what you needed.You stepped outside, the brightness of the Madrid sun almost blinding, and you gave Jude a sad smile. He followed, his movements slower, more deliberate, as if he was trying to figure out how to navigate the space between you. The small table sat between you both now, but it wasn’t the table or the breakfast that mattered—it was the unspoken words, the ghosts of last night, and the quiet ache that lingered in both of your hearts. You took a deep breath, the knot in your chest tightening as you realized you couldn’t dance around it any longer. You couldn’t pretend like it hadn’t happened, like you hadn’t both crossed a line you swore you wouldn’t. The words caught in your throat, but you forced them out, your voice soft and shaky.

“Jude,” you started, glancing down at the table before meeting his eyes. “I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have done what I did, but all it’s done is made me realize—” Your voice cracked slightly, but you pushed forward. “There’s no one like you. No one.” The admission hung in the air between you both, heavy with meaning. Jude’s expression softened, but the pain was still there, written all over his face. He looked down at the table, then back at you, his jaw tightening as if he was trying to hold something back.

“I feel the same,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “What I did… I regret it. I wish I could take it back. I thought… I thought it would make it easier to forget everything, to just push it away. But it didn’t. It just made everything worse. Because it’s you—there’s no one else that’s you.” The honesty in his words hit you like a wave, but it didn’t wash away the hurt. The pain still lingered, heavy and raw, between you both. You nodded slowly, your throat tightening with the threat of tears, but you blinked them back. This wasn’t the time for tears. This was about trying to move forward, even if you didn’t know how. You looked at him, the sunlight casting soft shadows over his face, and you felt the weight of your heart in your chest.

“I think… I might be falling for you, Jude. And you don’t have to say anything back because this I know it’s probably stupid. It scares the hell out of me as well so….” You whispered. He didn’t move for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if he was trying to find the right words, to make sure you really meant yours. Then, slowly, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. The touch was tentative, but it was enough to ground you, to remind you that, despite everything, you were both still here.

“I’m falling for you too,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “And I’m so so sorry. I’m so sorry for hurting you.” The pain still lingered, gnawing at the edges of your heart, but for the first time in what felt like forever, there was a small flicker of hope. You both sat there, in the bright Madrid sun, the weight of your mistakes still heavy, but the possibility of something more—something real—finally starting to take shape. You weren’t sure if you could fully move past what had happened, but in that moment, with Jude’s hand resting on yours, you knew you couldn’t walk away either. Not yet. Not when there was still so much left to say, so much left to feel. The road ahead was uncertain, but for now, you had each other. And that, at least, was a start. Jude stood up from his chair, his eyes locked onto yours with a mix of regret and something deeper, something more raw. Breakfast was forgotten in an instant, the food sitting untouched as he closed the small space between you. “Come here,” he whispered, his voice soft but commanding, and before you could even think, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. The warmth of his embrace was immediate, and despite everything that had happened, despite the pain, you melted into him. He swayed gently, the movement slow and comforting, as the Madrid sun drenched you both in its golden light. The air was thick with the scent of the morning and the faint sounds of the city below, but up here, in this moment, it was just the two of you. Nothing else mattered. You had told yourself there wasn’t time for tears, that crying wouldn’t help anything—but the moment his arms wrapped around you, it all came crashing down. You couldn’t hold back anymore. The tears started to fall, first in quiet, controlled sobs, but soon, they were unstoppable. Your face pressed into his chest, your fingers clutching his shirt as if letting go wasn’t an option. Jude felt the shift, the way your body shook with the weight of your tears, and he tightened his hold on you, pressing a kiss into your hair. “I’m here,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, “I’m here… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He kept repeating it, over and over, the words flowing out of him like a mantra, as if saying it enough times might somehow erase the pain. But it wasn’t just about the apology—it was the way he held you, the way he swayed with you in his arms, as if you were the most fragile thing in the world, and he needed to keep you safe. Neither of you wanted to let go, neither of you could. The tears kept coming, your body trembling against him, but Jude didn’t move. He didn’t pull away, didn’t try to comfort you with empty words. He just held you, letting the weight of the moment sink in. You stayed like that for what felt like ages, swaying back and forth in the sunlight, the world around you fading into the background. Finally, your sobs began to quiet, though the tears still flowed. You buried your face deeper into his chest, his heartbeat steady against your ear, grounding you in a way nothing else could. His hand stroked your back, slow and gentle, like he was trying to soothe the ache that had settled between you both. It wasn’t a moment of resolution, but it was something. A step. And as you stood there, wrapped in his embrace, you realized that despite everything, neither of you were ready to let go. Not of each other, not of the possibility of what you could still be. And for now, that was enough.

The atmosphere between you and Jude was tense at a bar. Despite the emotional reconciliation, Jude seemed to just move on after that. He was sweet to you of course but it kind of bothered you that he was acting as if everything was just as before. Just as before where Jude was primary, you were in secondary when it came to life in Madrid. Just as before where clarification about your relationship wasn’t needed. Jude could talk to the girls who wanted a photo but the second you took a step closer to lean over the bar towards the male bartender Jude’s eyes lit with fear and unfortunately a bit of possessiveness and annoyance. The feeling of your indiscretions still weighing on you both. The neon lights flickered outside, casting colorful shadows on the cobblestone streets of Madrid. Inside, the music was loud, the energy high, and the crowd lively—a perfect distraction from the lingering tension simmering between you. You didn’t like to be told what to do and even though it wasn’t being vocalized you were determined to prove a point tonight, that Jude couldn’t. Jude wasn’t the only one who could command attention, and you were tired of feeling like he was the one in control of this relationship. You’d now flown across the Atlantic Ocean for him twice now and yet there was still no clarification on what you were to him. If he wanted you to act like you were his, he’d have to tell you you were not just assume it. You knew people noticed you, but Jude had a way of overshadowing everything, making you feel like just another part of his world. Tonight, you wanted to remind him that you weren’t just an accessory on his arm. You were not like all those who had bowed down to him before. As you settled into a corner of the bar, Jude’s friend Aurelien had joined you, his usual easygoing charm on full display. Aurelien was one of the few people in Jude’s circle that you genuinely felt like you got on with and you knew he liked you. He was funny, handsome, smart, and—most importantly—he didn’t treat you like you were just Jude’s girl. You both spoke French, and tonight, you decided to use it to your advantage. The night had started innocently enough—but as the drinks flowed and inhibitions lowered. Flirting had always been second nature to you, and tonight was no exception.

“Salut, Aurel, ça fait longtemps,” [Hi, Aurel, it’s been a long time!] you said, your voice lilting as you slipped effortlessly into your shared language. You leaned in close to Aurelien, your lips curving into a playful smile as you greeted him in French.

“Ça va, YN? Toujours aussi belle,” [Are you okay, Y/N? Still so beautiful,] Aurelien replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he responded in kind. You exchanged pleasantries, your conversation light and easy, but with an undercurrent that was meant to get under Jude’s skin. And it worked. Jude watched you, his jaw tightening as he struggled to follow the rapid exchange. He didn’t know enough French to follow and the pace you and Aurelien were speaking at made it even harder to keep up. He didn’t like being left out. It felt deliberate, and it stoked the jealousy that had already been smoldering since the Instagram stories. You could feel Jude’s gaze on you, but you didn’t stop. You laughed at something Aurelien said, a light, airy sound that made Jude’s chest tighten. He knew what you were doing, and it drove him crazy. He wasn’t used to feeling this way—possessive, insecure, like he was the one who had to fight for your attention but he had been feeling it essentially since you met. It made him realize just how much he cared, how deeply he was already in. Seeing this in person made things brutally more painful than seeing it on his phone’s screen.

“Enough,” Jude said, his voice low and tense, leaving no room for argument. After a while, Jude wasn’t able to take it anymore. “We’re going home, yeah?.” He reached out, gently but firmly wrapping his hand around your waist, pulling your attention away from Aurelien.

“Already?” you asked, feigning innocence as you met his gaze. “But we’re having such a good time.” You looked at him, surprised by the intensity in his eyes. You knew you had pushed him, but you hadn’t expected this reaction.

“Now, Y/N,” Jude insisted, his grip on your wrist tightening just enough to make his point clear.

“Bonne nuit ma belle.” [Good night, beautiful.] Aurelien looked between you, sensing the tension. He offered you a sympathetic smile, but didn’t interfere. “Jude, hablaré contigo mañana.” [Jude, I'll talk to you tomorrow.] He gave you both a small wave before turning back to the bar. The car ride home was silent, the air between you thick with unspoken words. You could feel the tension radiating off him, but you didn’t back down. You had wanted to make a point, and it seemed like it had worked. As soon as you were inside, Jude turned to face you, his eyes dark with a mix of emotions— jealousy but most of all, desire. The second you both stumbled through the door, the click of the lock barely audible over the tension, Jude's hands were on you-possessive and insistent.

“Why do you have to do this angel? Why won’t you just be a good girl?” He demanded, his voice rough as he tried to keep his devious smirk at bay. You knew he was gaslighting you. God were you embarrassingly turned on though. The intensity in his words took you by surprise.

“You did it first.” You quipped trying to not cave too easily. You crossed your arms over your chest, meeting his gaze defiantly. “Why is it okay for people to fawn over you, but not for me?” you shot back. “You’re not the only one who can turn heads, Jude. I’m not just some accessory to your life.” You explained a bit more seriously than both you and Jude were expecting. He took a step closer, his worry now surpassing his lust.

“I know you’re not,” he said, his voice going soft with emotion. “But you’re mine, Y/N. I don’t want to see you with anyone else. I can’t stand the thought of it. Do you understand that? Not in Manhattan, not in Madrid, not anywhere in the world.” He explained to you, Jude's voice was low and dangerous. Suddenly as you glanced down and saw his pants beginning to tent and you smiled greedily. “Nah, if you wanted my cock so bad all you had to do was ask, angel. I'd fly anywhere in the world for this pussy.” Jude hand slowly came and gripped around your neck. At first it was gentle but then he squeezed taking your breath away. He gave you a smirk that made your pussy throb. His brown eyes smoldering with possessiveness. Jude's hands were on you-insistent. Jude wasted no time after that, pushing you against the door, his body caging you in. "You like to play with fire, don't you, baby?" he murmured, his warm breath fanning your neck. "Flirting with Aurelien right under my nose. You know no one turns you on the way I can though, isn’t that right?" He had you trapped you between the cool surface and the overwhelming heat of him. His lips found yours in a messy, hungry kiss, like he had been waiting all night for this moment, like every touch outside the door was just a tease for what was coming. Your head spun, not just from the alcohol, but from the intensity of his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin like he couldn't get close enough. His kisses were fiery, desperate, as his lips trailed down your neck, igniting your skin wherever they touched. You gasped as his mouth grazed your collarbone, your hands instinctively gripping his hair, pulling him even closer. "You're just f’me," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “You know you’re just a whore for me.” His hands roamed your body with a mixture of tenderness and urgency, fingers tracing the curve of your waist before slipping under the hem of your top. The friction between your bodies was electric, every movement charged with desire. Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as his lips found yours again, more demanding this time, as though he couldn't stand the distance between you any longer. He had you pinned against the door, you could feel his need, his possessiveness, like he was marking you with every touch, every kiss. The world outside didn't exist anymore-just you and him, lost in each other.

"J-Jude, I didn't mean..." You melted into his hold, completely consumed by the heat of the moment, his touch searing into your skin like fire. You gasped as his hands moved to slid up your thigh, lifting your skirt. Your clothes were just disappearing second by second.

"Shh..." He silenced you with a finger on your lips. "You don't need to explain. I understand what you want, Y/N. You just wanted my attention." He patronized you in the hottest way and even though you knew you should hate him for it it had you desperate for him. His hands reached for the waistband of your panties, slowly sliding them down your legs. You trembled as he exposed your wetness, your body betraying your guilt. "You're so wet, baby. Do you know why?" Jude's voice was a low purr, his fingers teasing your sensitive folds.

"N-no," you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire.

"Because you wanted my attention and now that you’ve got it, you’re excited for me to punish you for being a whore tonight. And you’re gonna love it because you only get to be like this f’me, hmm?" With that, he delivered a sharp smack to your exposed ass, making you cry out.

"Fuck! Jude, please..." You squirmed against the door, your body already responding to his dominance. You moved your hips towards him, his fingers dragging through your fold and then pushing deep inside you. One of his massive hands gripping your ass then the other taking his thumb sliding it from your entrance to your clit. The base of his fingers and knuckles were wet with your slick sliding in and out of you as he simultaneously began to make tight circles on your clit.

"Please what, angel?" He landed another spank as he multitasked, leaving a stinging sensation on your skin. "Do you like being punished for flirting with my friends? Does it make you wet knowing I'm the only one who can touch you like this?"

"Yeah, please... more..." You couldn't deny the pleasure his words and actions were eliciting. Your head fell back, exposing your neck. His lips quick to find your neck, sucking on your sensitive skin. You bucked your hips up against his hand as he moved his fingers in and out of you, his thumb still working your clit.

"That's my good girl. You know who you belong to. I'm going to remind you just how much you're mine. Remind you of the way only I can make you feel." Jude chuckled, the sound sending a thrill through your body. You felt his free hand roam over your body, claiming every inch of you. His fingers pinched your nipples through the lace of your bra, eliciting a moan from your lips. "That's it, let me hear your sweet voice," he encouraged, his breath hot against your ear. "Tell me how much you want my cock." You knew your climax had been rapidly approaching and then he snatched it away. You gasped with a whine. Jude was in control tonight and he was making sure you knew that.

"I want it your cock, Jude, please!” You pleaded, your words fueled by the building desire. Your hand trailed down to the front of his boxers, cupping his length. He groaned into your mouth as you kissed him. You squeezed lightly, feeling the precum soaking through the thin material. His cock twitched under your hand as you rubbed him through his boxers. You slowly began to kiss down Jude’s body.

“Fuck baby. You want to be a good girl now? Show me you know you’re just f’me.” Jude asked you feeling your lips above the waistband of his boxers. Never in your life had you gotten turned on by a man taking control of you, claiming you and yet Jude had you dripping. You took his cock out and greedily licked your lips at the thick length and the vein running along the side of it. You took his cock into your hand and pumped it slowly as you locked eyes with Jude, letting some of your spit drop down into it. Slowly you licked the vein from base all the way up till you wrapped your lips around the tip. Jude’s hands immediately found their way to the back of your head, grabbing your hair tight. You moaned around his length. Jude inhaled as you took more of him until he hit the back of your throat, he bit his lip watching you bop up and down on his cock. “You love having my cock in your mouth, angel, huh? Look so sexy like this.” he groaned. You moaned and the hum vibrated through him. You took him deeper picking up the pace, minute after minute flying by. “Baby…you’re gonna make me cum like this.” Jude groaned as you let him fuck your face. “You don’t want me to cum in your mouth though do you? I think you like it when I cum somewhere else, that right?” Jude breathily got through his words. You nodded as he cupped your chin and pulled you off him with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The sight of you with drool pooling in the corners of your mouth, tears on your lash line had him in a lustful haze. He roughly pulled you up and pressed his lips to yours.

"Please, fuck me. Remind me I’m yours." You begged him pulling away from the kiss. He wasted no time. He pulled his shirt over his head. Once his shirt was off, he picked you up, his hands sliding over the curve of your ass, down under it, and to the backs of your thighs, lifting you off the ground. He wrapped your legs around his waist, settling you there. He reached down and positioned himself at your entrance. Without direction you dragged Judes fingers up to your mouth taking two of them into your mouth. You moaned, wrapping your lips around his fingers as his length slowly filled you. He took his hand from your mouth both his hands palming your ass, pressing your back to the door in a fury.

"Oh my god, fuck.” you cried out as he entered you in one swift motion, filling you completely. Jude's hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as he began to thrust.

“Mmm. That’s it. That’s the spot, huh?” He smugly smiled as he found your g spot in an instant. Your face scrunched, and jaw slacked with a nod confirming. “Feel so good, baby" He grunted, his breath ragged. "So tight and wet around my cock.” He groaned. Your body felt like it was on fire as you pushed your heel into his muscular back.

“Jude, I fucking love y… your cock.” You whined, almost catching yourself out as you bounced on his cock. You called out his name as he hit all the spots perfectly fit for him. The pace, the force, every stroke was everything you could ever want. You leaned in, your lips slamming into his again as he continued to pound into you.

“God, you love it like this, don’t you?” He growled moving his lips, kissing up your jaw to your ear before nippling on it, then grazing his teeth down your neck. Your pussy tightened around his cock. You were a mess as Jude guided your hips. You were barreling into an orgasm. Jude pushed you harder against the door letting one of his hands drop in between you two to find your clit. “That’s right. Cum f’me baby.” And with that your body convulsed as you came undone on Jude’s cock. The coil in your stomach snapped, the pressure sending Jude over the edge with you. Your orgasms hit you like waves, crashing over your bodies. Your nails dug into his muscular back as you rode the intense pleasure. Jude's grip on your hips tightened, holding you in place as he continued to thrust. Your bounces slowing down to a stop. His sweat-coated chest heaved as he lazily smiled at you with a look that you could describe as love.

"YN, I..." Jude's words turned into a growl as he emptied himself deep within you, his hot cum filling your core. As your bodies calmed, he pulled you close, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss until he pulled away almost breathless. "I understand tonight…" he whispered against your mouth. Your bodies still buzzing from the intensity of it all. The air between you felt different—charged but also heavy with unspoken words. Jude looked down at you, his gaze soft but serious, the remnants of that fiery possessiveness from earlier still lingering in his eyes. His fingers traced gentle lines along your though, as though grounding himself in your presence. “But you know…” he began, his voice low and thoughtful, “I’m not blind to it. I know how everyone looks at you.” You turned your head slightly to meet his eyes, sensing there was more he needed to say. He exhaled, his hand pausing on your skin. “You’re so… God, you’re the most gorgeous girl in Madrid. In Manhattan, too. I see it in their faces—my friends, strangers, people at clubs. They all see what I see. And I know…” His voice wavered for a moment, the vulnerability seeping through, “I know how coveted you are. I know what it must feel like for them, knowing I’m the one who gets to be with you.” You blinked, taken aback by the rawness in his words. He wasn’t just talking about your looks—there was something deeper there, something that made your heart ache in the best possible way. Jude leaned in closer, his forehead resting lightly against yours. “But it’s not just that I get to sleep with the hottest girl in Madrid or Manhattan,” he continued softly, “I don’t take for granted that I’m the one who gets to know you. Like really know you, behind the glass; your fears, your dreams, the way your mind works, the things that make you laugh. No one else knows you like that. And I’m so fucking lucky you let me be that guy.” His admission hung between you, raw and real, and you felt your chest tighten with emotion. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he looked at you like you were his world, his everything. “I don’t take any of this for granted,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Not for a second and I’ll never stop being grateful for that.” You swallowed hard, your throat tightening as your fingers instinctively reached for his, intertwining them with yours. It wasn’t just about the jealousy or the possessiveness—it was about the way he saw you, understood you, and cherished you in a way no one else ever had. You smiled softly, your heart full, knowing that despite everything—the flirting, the teasing—it all came back to this: the two of you, here, together, holding onto something that felt too precious to let slip away.

"Thank you. That means a lot to me.” You smiled, a little breathless, as you realized the depth of your submission to this man. The night's events had transformed into a powerful reminder of the intense connection you shared, leaving you both satisfied and utterly spent. This was a little fun though, no, Jude?” You giggled. He nodded very matter of factly. You headed upstairs drunk off a little bit of tequila still lingering and very drunk off him. You were slightly mortified he just fucked you in the foyer but it was late. It was morning essentially and that made it all the more risky.

“It’s okay.” He whispered in your ear reassuring you as he walked behind you, his arms wrapped around you as you carried half of your clothes upstairs in your hands. “You just can’t help yourself. No one can make you feel the way I can and you just were so horny for me. You couldn’t wait.”He kissed your bare shoulder.

“Oh my god! Shut up honestly.” You groaned through a quiet giggle. “You came home and were all over me because you are the most jealous man I’ve ever met. I spoke french to Aurelien for 5 minutes and you came home and you just couldn’t help yourself because no one can make you feel the way I can and you just were so horny for me.” You quipped reciting his words back to him. He kissed your hair and then rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t wait.” You kissed your teeth.

“Yeah yeah yeah. You got me but let’s face it we’re very good at fucking. It’d be a shame to waste such talent, hmm?” He kissed behind your ear. You shook your head as you entered his bedroom. Jude turned you around to face him, his hands framing your face as he looked into your eyes. “Y/N, jokes aside. I don’t want anyone else, and I don’t want you with anyone else, yeah?” Jude honestly told you. Your breath caught in your throat at the intensity of his words. For so long, you had been afraid to let yourself fall, afraid of getting hurt, but now, hearing Jude’s confession, you felt your own walls start to crumble. You nodded terrified agreeing to this all over again.

The weeks that followed your decision to stay in Madrid were filled with a rare kind of bliss. You and Jude had found a rhythm that felt effortless, your days punctuated by moments of quiet intimacy and your nights by passion that left you both breathless. It was easy to forget the outside world when it was just the two of you, cocooned in your own little bubble. But the bubble had to burst eventually, and it did with the arrival of Trent and Whitney. Whitney and Trent arrived in Madrid with an energy of excitement, and Denise warmly welcomed them into the house. After a quick chat downstairs, Denise mentioned that Jude was upstairs in the shower, you probably just in the room, and sent them up to put their luggage away in one of the guest rooms. As Trent carried the bags up, Whitney trailed behind him, admiring the home decor. When they reached the guest room, Trent placed the suitcases down and stretched. He wandered over to the large window, taking in the view of the rolling Spanish hills. But something else quickly caught his attention. From his vantage point, Trent could see directly onto the balcony connected to Jude's bedroom-and there, completely unaware of their audience, were you and Jude. Jude's hands were gripping your ass, your legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked into you. Kissing you deeply, the two of you lost in each other, the moment heated and intimate under the Spanish sun. The sound of music and the running shower from inside Jude's room clearly meant to mask the intensity of your connection from anyone nearby.

"Erm… Whit baby, this is one hell of a shower Jude is having." Trent blinked a few times, taken aback for a split second, and then burst out laughing. Barely able to contain himself, he waved her over. Whitney walked over, curious, and followed Trent's gaze.

"Oh my God!" she gasped, immediately reaching to cover Trent's eyes with a mix of shock and laughter. The second she saw what was happening, her eyes widened. "Don't look, T! Oh my God!"

"Hey, they're just... taking advantage of the view. It's their balcony." Trent just chuckled, shaking his head. Whitney, now laughing, peeked again and then sighed, still mortified but amused.

“Well, I guess that's why Y/N enjoys Madrid so much." She kept her hand over Trent's eyes, playfully scolding him, but neither could stop laughing. They both backed away from the window, sharing a knowing look. "Let's let them, uh... finish Jude's 'shower," Whitney said, still giggling. They left the guest room quietly, trying their best not to make any noise as they made their way back downstairs, barely able to contain their laughter at the unexpected scene they'd stumbled upon. Trent had a game against Atletico Madrid yesterday and Whitney decided to tag along and extend their stay. Both their visit and your reconciliation was the perfect excuse for a party. Jude’s sprawling villa in the hills outside Madrid ideal for the occasion—luxurious, private, and large enough to accommodate the guest list that had grown exponentially over the days leading up to the event. The night of the party, the house was transformed. Lights twinkled in the trees that lined the driveway, the pool was lit up in shades of blue, and music pulsed through the speakers around the expansive outdoor space. People had come in droves—teammates, moreover athletes in general, influencers, and socialites. The kind of crowd that made the party a must-attend event, even if you didn’t know the host personally. As the night wore on, the atmosphere grew more electric. The heat of the day had settled into a balmy evening, but the temperature inside the house was rising. Drinks were flowing, laughter echoed off the walls, and the music was loud enough to vibrate through the floors. It was the kind of party where everyone was vying for attention, where girls dressed to the nines tried to catch the eye of one of the many footballers in attendance. But Jude was oblivious to most of it. He stood off to the side, leaning against a column with a drink in hand, his eyes never straying far from you. You were talking with Whitney near the pool, your laugh carrying over the noise, and Jude felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the alcohol. You were radiant tonight, your Ferragamo woven fringe mini dress perfectly draping off your body, your hair slicked back into a low bun exposing your bare back and patina Bottega drop earrings. He wasn’t the only one who noticed, either—he had seen more than a few guys look your way, their eyes lingering a little too long for his liking.

“Hell of a party, mate,” Trent said, coming over, clapping Jude on the back and pulling him out of his reverie, a wide grin on his face as he surveyed the scene. “Who knew you had a knack for this. Give Whit a run for her money. Don’t tell her I said that though.” Trent laughed. Jude followed with a chuckle, but his gaze was still fixed on you.

“Yeah, it’s something. But I really just had Y/N sort it,” he replied, though his mind was elsewhere. The atmosphere was warm, though slightly chaotic. After the rocky week you’d had, being surrounded by friends seemed like the perfect distraction but you were proving to be a distraction for him right now.

“They know how to throw a party, they know how to dress for one as well, hmm?” Trent remarked, nodding toward you and Whitney. He followed Jude’s line of sight and smirked. “Can’t say I blame you for being so distracted, I’m in the same boat.”

“She’s so amazing, bro. I really like having her here” he said, his tone more serious than he intended. “A lot more than I ever thought I would.” Jude tore his eyes away from you long enough to give Trent a look. Trent raised an eyebrow, but didn’t press.

“Yeah, mate, course,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “Just don’t let her catch you brooding in the corner all night. Girls like her don’t like that.” Trent joked. He wasn’t really even sure what he meant but the sentiment stood. Jude didn’t need the reminder. He knew exactly how rare you were, and the thought of losing you—even in the smallest way—was enough to make him feel uneasy. But he wasn’t about to let his jealousy ruin the night, not when things had been so good between you. As if sensing his thoughts, you looked over at him, your eyes meeting his across the crowd. You gave him a smile, the kind that made his heart skip a beat, and excused yourself from Whitney to make your way over to him. Jude straightened up as you approached, his earlier tension melting away in your presence.

“Who knew the host was so handsome.” You giggled. “Enjoying the party?” you asked, your voice soft as you reached him, your hand lightly brushing against his arm.

“Not as much as I’m enjoying looking at you,” Jude replied, his lips curving into a smile as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re the most beautiful thing here, you know that?”

“You always know what to say, don’t you?” you teased, though the compliment had clearly flustered you. You blushed, your eyes sparkling as you looked up at him.

“Only when it comes to you,” he said, his hand finding the small of your back, drawing you closer to him. Jude’s smile widened. For a moment, the noise of the party faded into the background, and it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other. Jude could feel the familiar pull between you, the magnetic connection that made it impossible to stay away from you for long. He wasn’t sure what it was about you that had gotten so deep under his skin, but he knew he didn’t want it to end. “I’m glad you stayed, angel” he said softly, his voice barely audible over the music. “Thank you so much for coming back.” He sadly smiled.

“I’m glad I stayed too,” you replied, your hand coming up to rest on his chest. “And just so you know, you’re the only one I’m interested in tonight.” You looked up at him, your expression softening under his gaze. Jude felt a surge of relief at your words, the last remnants of his earlier jealousy fading away.

“Good,” he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “Because you’re the only one I want.” He whispered and your heart fluttered. Jude’s house was alive with the sounds of music, laughter, and clinking glasses. Both of you dancing around the fragile reconciliation you both had recently achieved. But, despite the fun, the air held a lingering tension. The party was filled with faces you didn’t recognize, girls who clearly had no idea Jude was seeing anyone.

"Where’s Jude at?" One girl leaned in closer to ask Toby. As the evening progressed, a group of girls gathered near him, drinks in hand, casually glancing around the room.

"He’s with his missus." Without hesitation, Toby, always quick with a response, looked up from his drink, scanning the room.

"Wait, Jude Bellingham is seeing someone?" one of them asked, almost incredulously. “The Jude Bellingham?” The girl almost choked. The girls exchanged surprised glances, clearly caught off guard by the revelation. Toby nodded, eyes scanning the room until they landed on you and Jude. You’d retreated to the corner of Jude’s living room, away from the crowd. You were curled up together on a sofa now, Jude’s arm draped casually yet protectively around your shoulders, both of you wrapped up in quiet conversation. The soft glow of the lights made the scene look almost too intimate for the party’s bustling energy. From across the room, you caught the subtle shift in attention and noticed the group of girls whispering while throwing glances in your direction. Toby’s gaze followed, a smirk playing at his lips as if he knew something they didn’t.

"Maybe we should sit up or, I don’t know, tone it down? People are staring," you whispered, your voice laced with hesitation. Feeling the weight of the eyes on you, you shifted uncomfortably and turned to Jude. But Jude, caught up in the comfort of having you close, shook his head and tightened his grip on you.

“Let them look,” he said casually, brushing a kiss against your temple. "I don’t care what anyone thinks. All I care about is you." You tried to protest again, your self-consciousness rising, but Jude silenced you with a smile that left no room for doubt. He wasn’t hiding you, and for once, you weren’t a secret. Toby, seeing the whole scene unfold, raised his drink in a silent toast from across the room, acknowledging the quiet but significant shift in Jude but there was something almost taunting about it. It wasn’t just about you anymore—it was about you both, together. And whether or not the girls liked it, Jude wasn’t about to let you go and you were trying to read just what Toby thought about that.

As the night wore on, the party continued to buzz around you, the laughter and chatter of the guests creating a lively backdrop to the quieter, more intimate moments Jude and you were sharing. You hadn’t moved in hours. The couch you settled on was plush and inviting, a perfect spot to unwind and steal a few moments for yourselves.You nestled into Jude’s side, your head resting on his chest as he draped an arm around your shoulders. The warmth of his body against your was comforting, grounding you in the midst of the chaos that swirled around you. You were close enough to the action to still feel a part of it, but far enough away that you could have a conversation without having to shout over the noise. You just sat there, content in each other’s presence. Jude absentmindedly played with a tassel of your dress twirling it around his finger as he looked down at you. There was something so peaceful about moments like this—when it was just the two of you, and the rest of the world seemed to fade away. After a while, Jude broke the comfortable silence.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft but carrying an undertone of seriousness, “I’ve been thinking a lot about us lately.” He cooed.

“What about us?” you asked, your voice gentle as you studied his expression. You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes curious. Jude paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. Embarrassingly you were hoping he’d give you some sort of label.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone before,” he admitted, his tone earnest. “You’re… different. You’re like a piece of art—one of those masterpieces that people spend their whole lives searching for. And somehow, I got lucky enough to find you.” Jude’s expression was serious.

“That’s quite the compliment,” you said, your voice touched with amusement. “You’re saying I belong in a museum?” You felt your heart swell at his words, a soft teasing smile playing on your lips.

“Not a museum,” he corrected, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. Jude chuckled, shaking his head. “You belong in a private collection, where only the right person can fully appreciate you. You’re not just beautiful, Y/N. You’re one of a kind.” he mused.

“I think you’re giving me too much credit,” you murmured, though his words had clearly touched you. Your smile widened, but there was a hint of shyness in your eyes. It wasn’t a label but this was a sweet conversation.

“No, I’m not,” Jude insisted, his voice firm but tender. “I mean it. There’s something about you… something I can’t quite put into words. It’s like you’ve got all these layers, and every time I think I’ve figured you out, there’s something new. Like those paintings that reveal something different every time you look at them.”

“You really know how to flatter a girl, don’t you?” you teased, though the affection in your voice was unmistakable. “But you know, I’ve always thought of you as more of a sculpture. Strong, defined… but there’s a softness to you that people don’t see unless they get close enough.” You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head slightly. Jude’s expression softened at your words, his thumb gently stroking your shoulder.

“I like that,” he said quietly. “I like that you see me that way. But I think you’re the first one to get that close to me, Y/N. You’re the artist or maybe the gallerist I guess who brings me to life.” He smiled. You felt a lump form in your throat at the sincerity in his voice. You had always been careful with your heart, afraid of letting anyone get too close, but with Jude, it was different. He saw you in a way no one else did, and that scared you as much as it thrilled you.

“You’re important to me, Jude,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “More than I ever expected. Sometimes I feel like I’m still figuring out what this is… what we are. But I know one thing for sure—I don’t want to lose you.” Jude’s grip on your tightened slightly, as if he were afraid you might slip away.

“You won’t lose me,” he promised, his voice firm. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. I want to be here, with you, angel, for as long as you’ll have me, as long as you want to stay.” He gently cooed. You leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, a silent acknowledgment of everything you were feeling but couldn’t quite say. When you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, closing your eyes as you let yourself savor the moment.

“Stay with me tonight,” Jude whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “Just like this. I don’t care about the party or anyone else here. I just want you.” He cooed.

“I’m not going anywhere, Judey.” You nodded with a smirk, your voice catching as you replied. As you stayed there with him, Jude felt fear wash over him. Just how smitten he was was ringing every alarm bell. He could feel it and although with you in his arms settling his racing heart he began to panic watching his other world spin around him and you creating a whole new one for him that just didn’t seem to be able to merge. You stayed curled up in Jude’s arms for what felt like hours, the world outside your little bubble fading away as the party continued to swirl around you. The music, the laughter, the clinking of glasses—it all became background noise to the comforting rhythm of Jude’s heartbeat under your ear. You could have stayed like that forever, letting the warmth of his body seep into you, but eventually, the effects of the wine and the hours of sitting began to catch up with you.

“I think I drank a little too much,” you murmured, your voice a mix of amusement and self-awareness as you glanced up at him. You shifted slightly, trying to ignore the way the room tilted ever so slightly as you moved.

“Yeah? You’ve had a long day, angel” he said gently, brushing a stray lock of fallen hair behind your ear. “Why don’t you go up to my bed? I’ll be up in a bit.” Jude’s eyes softened as he looked down at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Are you sure?” you asked, your voice laced with reluctance. You hesitated, not wanting to leave the safety of his embrace, but the warmth of the alcohol and the late hour were making you drowsy.

“Positive,” Jude replied, his tone taking on a more playful edge as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. “And angel… make sure you’re ready for me when I get there.” He whispered. The suggestion in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt a blush creep up your neck. You nodded, your heart fluttering as you pulled yourself away from him and stood up, feeling slightly unsteady on your feet. Jude watched you go, his eyes following you as you made your way through the crowded room. His heart clenched painfully in his chest as he watched your retreating figure. How could he miss someone who was still within his line of sight? The feeling was so foreign, so intense, that it almost overwhelmed him. He had never felt this way about anyone before—so completely taken, so utterly captivated. As soon as you disappeared from view, the atmosphere of the party seemed to rush back at him all at once. Like the crack of thunder. The noise, the lights, the people—it was a jarring contrast to the quiet intimacy he had just shared with you. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the realization of how deeply you had gotten under his skin left him reeling. Before he could process his thoughts, he felt a heavy hand clap down on his shoulder. Jude turned to see Toby grinning at him with a knowing look in his eyes.

“Mate,” Toby said, his voice tinged with amusement, “you’re down so bad. Oh my days.” He laughed.

“What are you talking about?” he replied, trying to sound nonchalant. Jude gave a half-hearted chuckle, shrugging off the comment even as it hit closer to home than he would have liked.

“Don’t be daft” Toby continued, his grin widening. “I saw the way you were looking at her. You’re a complete melt, bro. I never thought I’d see the day.” He raised his eyebrows.

“It’s not like that,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. “She’s just… different.” Jude rolled his eyes, trying to brush off the teasing, but he couldn’t shake the feeling Toby’s words had stirred up inside him. Jude felt everything slipping as he was being called out. He felt out of control and he needed to get back to being Jude.

“Different? You mean she’s got you tied in knots, mate. Don’t tell me you’re getting serious about this girl. What are you doing, bro?” Toby raised his eyebrow once more, clearly unconvinced. Jude hesitated, his mind racing. He didn’t want to admit it—to himself or to anyone else—but Toby was right. He was serious about you, more serious than he had ever been about anyone. And that scared the hell out of him.

“Nah, you’re just seeing things,” he said, clapping Toby on the back. “I’m still the same lad I’ve always been.” Not wanting to dwell on the uncomfortable truth, Jude forced a grin and tried to play it off.

“Sure, Jude. Whatever you say.” Toby snorted, clearly not buying it. “But don’t let her keep you on a leash. There’s plenty of fun to be had in Madrid, where she doesn’t live, and here tonight, if you know what I mean.” Toby nodded toward a group of girls nearby, one of whom had been eyeing Jude all night. She was pretty, with a bright smile and a confident air about her. A year ago, Jude wouldn’t have thought twice about going over to talk to her. But now… now all he could think about was you upstairs, waiting for him. But there was a part of him—small but persistent—that didn’t want to let himself be so caught up in one person. He didn’t want to be the guy who got too serious, who lost his edge. He didn’t want to be the guy who let a girl tie him down, who let himself get hurt.

“You know what? You’re right,” he said, though the words felt wrong on his tongue. “Gonna go see what’s out there. Nothing’s changed here.” In a moment of defiance—against Toby’s teasing, against the feelings he couldn’t quite understand—Jude made a decision. He gave Toby a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Toby laughed, clearly pleased with himself, and gave Jude an encouraging shove in the direction of the girl. Jude hesitated for a split second, his heart tugging him in the opposite direction, but then he pushed it down. He wouldn’t let himself get too deep, too invested. Not yet. With that thought in mind, Jude walked over to the girl, putting on his most charming smile, but even as he made small talk, his mind was elsewhere—on the girl who was waiting for him upstairs, the girl who had somehow managed to make him feel things he wasn’t ready to feel.

•

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 8 - Last Night xx

#jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader #act ii

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yellowjestertfs · 11 days ago

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Altered State: Part Six + Epilogue

Story is finally finished I can't believe it. Sorry this last part took so much longer then the others. I had a epilogue written but I sort of hated it and so decided rewrote the whole thing which took longer then I would have liked. As always Part Five, Four, Three, Two and One are already up. Thank you so much for everyone who has read what at this point is basically a book length story. I had so much fun writing it and would love to eventually write an Altered State 2.0 though I am going to try to stick to shorter projects in the meantime (Will see if I stick to that). Hope you enjoy and don't hesitate to reach out!

I like you, Leon, I have always liked you and not just in a friend way or a sexual way” Edward felt like he was going to throw up but he pushed forward. Watching Leon fight Hunter had solidified his feelings. They were too intense to let lie even a moment longer, his friend had to know how he felt even if he didn't feel the same. “but also like you in a -“

Edward didn't realize his feet were off the ground until he was already flying through the air. He let out a scream but it was too late. The metal claw wrapped tightly around his waist dragged him quickly and roughly through the air towards the towering contraption on the street like a harpoon reeling in a big fish.

Edward’s whole body shook as the metal chain fully retracted the claw into the mech’s arm reattaching firmly. His head hurt and he suspected he might have a concussion. Edward struggled but his 5.4 strength was pathetic compared to the pressurized machinery holding him.

Edward turned to face the pilot. A large colored plastic dome that looked as if it had been salvaged from a playground, sat on top of the mech distorting the appearance of the person inside. The floating name tag above their head however was visible and made Edward’s breath catch. “Alvis, Level 20 Technocrat”

Edward internally groaned. It was clear something had happened to Alvis besides him gaining 20 levels and a mech. He looked physically different. Through the semi-transparent plastic Alvis looked like a baby or a sickly child. His head was now mostly bald and extremely oversized, especially for his tiny body. His eyes were bright with a vast intelligence but the rest of his face had somehow gotten uglier.

“Alvis, what are you doing?” Edward asked, kicking his feet as he fruitlessly tried to escape.

Alvis ignored him. Instead he looked over Edward with a hungry gaze then in a voice amplified by a mic hidden somewhere in the mech said “wow you really are a pretty one. I’m starting to understand why that lout is so obsessed with you. It’s too bad your both assholes.”

“Let’s talk about this Alvis! I think there has been a misunderstanding.” The grip on Edward grew tighter making his words come out strained.

“Misunderstanding” Alvis’s nasal voice shouted “You and Leon are the worst most selfish roommates ever. You ignore me, you touch my things without asking and you fucked in my bed!” The last accusation came out as a screeched and Edward paled. He had no idea how Alvis knew that but it would make reasoning with him a lot more difficult.

“I’m sorry about that. Put me down and we can talk. You don’t have to do this” Edwards said trying his best to work his charm though it was hard dangling in the grip of a giant robot talking through a barely transparent colored plastic spear.

Still, diplomacy seemed the only way. Edward tried to focus on his sage sense but he didn't understand what he was feeling. Alvis’s true desire had something to do with a basement, not particularly helpful at the moment. The countdown for the quest was down to a minute and thirty seconds. Edward had regained just enough energy points to use an emotion bomb on Hunter but the act had drained him of his reserves. A single point had regenerated since then and he was due to regenerate another soon, though that was still too little to use any of his techniques. He had no doubt Leon would try to play white knight and save the damsel from King Kong but he would only get himself hurt. Besides having a giant robot, Alvis was eight levels ahead of both of them with a whole host of abilities or techniques to be sure.

Edward wasn’t particularly surprised by the level gap. Video games were one of the only things Leon and Alvis had in common. He knew Alvis was a power gamer, someone who focused on making his character as strong as possible while bypassing other things like the story. Edward always thought that approach took the fun out of the game. Edward also knew Alvis was brutal with the power he had, quick to kill an NPC or even his own allies if it amused him or served his ends.

“I don’t have to do this?” Alvis asked in a mocking tone. “Don’t you understand, don’t you ever think with more than your dick. They sent you here to stop me because they know what I am going to do. It’s awake now and there is no putting it back to sleep. If they want to give us power then they need to live with the consequences.” His words became increasingly forceful and a bit deranged.

“Alvis I don’t understand what you are saying, who are they, what is it? Can you give me some proper nouns here?” Edward could see his charisma start to take hold, making Alvis more talkative. Alvis had never been the easiest person to get along with but Edward suspected his new class might have driven him a touch insane. He supposed such a sudden increase in intelligence might do that.

Alvis chose to ignore all of Edward's questions and continues with his madman’s rant. “I overloaded it once and so much had already changed under the surface. But of course you can’t see. Its getting smarter more complex, leaning from those who join. If that was just one frat house imagine a whole block, imagine the whole campus, the whole city. You and Leon are blinded by the glamor, I won’t let myself be, I can’t. The game speaks to me, its voice is getting louder. It wants to make our desires manifest but they don’t want it to. They are going to kill us, kill it kill our god. We can’t let them, we need to help it, help it, help me, I’m going to kill you.”

Edward blanched. It was clear something was seriously wrong with Alvis. His words were choppy and halting and at times sounded as if someone else was speaking. Still there were nuggets of truth hidden in his rantings things Edward could learn about how the game worked or at least how Alvis thought it worked. The “critical mass” notification from earlier must have been from when Alvis had played the disk for the frat and added them to the game. Adding that many players had updated the game to version 1.2. It seemed Alvis wished to add more players to update the game again, though Edward didn’t know why. Could that be the purpose of the device? Did Alvis truly think the game was alive?

He knew if he had time he could calm Alvis down and get a proper answer out of him, but he didn't get the chance.

From above there was a sound like an airplane taking off. Leon, in all his naked glory flung himself from the hole in the second floor. He had grown, a lot, he looked like a superhero, flying forward fist extended in a high ark, surging over the front yard and landing onto the street just in front of the robot. The concrete cracked under his bare feet and a shockwave blasted out from where he landed which rocked the mech but didn’t topple it, nor did the grip on Edward loosen.

Leon looked pissed, an expression made scary by his now hypermasculine square face adorned with a mustache and stubble. He looked like a Norse giant or an especially large and pissed-off gay porn star.

A crack had appeared in the plastic bubble over Alvis. Through it Edward could more clearly see the Technocrat’s face which seemed surprised by Leon’s demonstration of force and anger, but not concerned. Leon rushed forward, in his giant form he was almost two-thirds as tall as the massive machine though still substantially less wide. Edward knew Leon would try to pry him free of the machine, and so did Alvis. The mech's other hand pivoted slowly on rusty loud gears, then suddenly sprung forward as if the mechanism had become butter, likely due to one of Alvis’s techniques. The arm slammed into Leon mid-charge and flung him back into a car parked on the street, denting the vehicle and causing its alarm to go off. The few college kids who had gathered on the street filming the fight on their phones cheered at the blow.

“Leon stop” Edward yelled. He knew he could talk both of them down if they stopped for a second, but the two were too busy with their masculine antics to listen to him. Leon picked himself up from the ground. If not for his Animal Endurance and Armored Skin, he would likely be dead. As it was Edward could see Leon now had a limp. He charged once again, his giant body causing the ground to shake under his pounding feet.

Alvis activated another technique and every piece of technology within a large radius around him exploded. Cars, street lamps, fire hydrants, and even the phone in Edward's pocket all deconstructed themselves into component parts and flew toward Alvis like he was a magnet. A large car door flew into Leon, throwing him off his feet and the metal components and electronics of Edward’s phone dug painfully into him as they tried to reach Alvis by tearing a hole in his leg.

Leon was stubborn. He got back to his feet, dodged a wildly whipping electrical line then charged at Alvis, using a flying telephone pole as a javelin. The wooden pole smashed into the center of the robot toppling it onto one leg. Alvis furiously worked the controls, preventing the machine from falling, but in the process the claw around Edward’s waist loosened enough for him to slip out. He fell to the concrete rolling painfully.

Leon saw this and tried to run to Edward but was kicked away hard by the mech’s foot, Alvis’s attention fully focused on Leon thanks to his Punchable Face perk. Edward ran away from the mech, his Effortless Grace allowed him to do a decent job dodging the flying technological debris but he still accumulated a series of cuts in the process. He would have given anything for a few of Leon’s perks at that moment.

“You destroyed my car!” Leon yelled accusingly, ripping up a mailbox from the ground and hurling it at Alvis. A laser shot from the mech’s other hand and sliced it in half.

“You used my game system without asking” Alvis shot back voice slightly distorted by the speaker.

“Those are not equivalent things!” Leon yelled. The two could have been siblings fighting on a road trip if they were not both hulking behemoths capable of taking down a house. “And I smashed your stupid machine,” Leon shouted up at Alvis, trying to get a reaction.

“Which one?” Alvis asked cooly. Edward’s heart sank. He should have known someone as paranoid as Alvis would have multiple contraptions set up. He saw Leon’s eyes go wide as well. Edward suddenly remembered what he had felt with his sage skill. In the basement, the machine had to be down there.

All it took was one look at Leon and his friend knew. Edward made a break back towards the frat house. The surges of debris had slowed allowing him to reach the house in a matter of seconds. At the front door Leon had kicked in, Edward risked a look back and saw Alvis had attempted to pilot his mech to go after him but was being physically held back by Leon pulling on a leg with Herculean strength. On instinct Edward cast out with his captive serpent technique, burning the two energy points that had regenerated on Alvis before rushing into the house.

Edward sprinted to the door he had seen with his sage perk and was grateful to find it unlocked. It was clear the basement was used normally for storage. Boxes, dusty shelves and other junk filled the floor expect for cleared out area where the contraption sat. It looked like the one from upstairs only slightly smaller. Satellite dishes hung from the side and in the middle was yet another copy of the “Altered State” game disk. Edward had no idea how Alvis had gotten multiple.

There were only twenty seconds left on the quest. The machine was working up to something big, a loud whirring noise came from the center part of the machine and the LED lights along the edges began to blink faster and faster. Edward grabbed a rusty length of metal from the ground, maybe once used in some scaffolding or as a fire poker. Outside he could hear the clash of titans, metal slamming into reinforced skin. He hoped Leon was alright.

It was amazing to him how much he and Leon’s lives had changed because of this game. In the course of a day, Edward had gone from an insecure ugly nobody drifting passively through life to someone with the power and autonomy to take what he wanted. Leon was always a superhero trapped in the body of a fat kid. Sure he could be quick to judge and a little immature but he ultimately wanted to do so much good but rarely could. The game had allowed him the opportunity to become what was always on the inside. And the game had brought them together. It was so silly to Edward that he had spent all that time dreaming about having someone special in his life when he already had it all along. He wanted Leon and only Leon.

He thought again about the quest reward offered for spoiling Alvis’s plans. A love potion. He imagined giving it to Leon, imagined his friend looking back at him with the same amount of love he had for him. He lifted the length of metal ready to smash the machine, but hesitated.

It wasn’t the ethics of a love potion that stayed his hand. No, the game wouldn’t have given him the Snake Charmer class if Edward was morally opposed to bending wills. Instead, it was what Alvis had said.

If he understood correctly, which was far from a sure thing, this machine was intended to bring more people into the game. Alvis seemed to think it would only affect the surrounding city and with one machine smashed it might be even less effective. Yet even so Edward wondered if he could really deprive others of the opportunity he had gotten. Sure there were those out there like Hunter and the guys in the frat who would abuse the power but Edward firmly believed there was more like Trent and Tag or him and Leon who wouldn’t. Edward knew it was stupid to trust Alvis. He was a weasel and without a doubt had his own motivations that were less than pure, and yet ultimately they agreed on the outcome that had to occur.

Plus there was the fact that Alvis seemed to think the game was alive. Edward was pretty sure that belief was due to his roommate having gone fully insane, and yet with all he had seen, he struggled to fully reject the idea. If so would Edward stopping the machine kill it, or doom it to a life of simple servitude? Was Edward willing to do all that to be with Leon?

In the one second before the countdown hit zero Edward was left with the agonizing decision so many have faced before. His desire for good and his desire for love waged war. In the end he made his decision with a deep breath and a step back as he watched the countdown hit zero and accepted his fate to live life without love.

The machine let out of loud nails on a chalkboard screech, shook violently then sent a beam of light into the ceiling. For a few seconds, there was nothing then Edward blinked finding his vision suddenly filled with a rapid series of notifications and to his surprise tears. The two remaining quests marked themselves as failed though luckily he didn't become a Wretch for it.

Instantly Edward’s mind went to Leon. He felt a strange cocktail of mourning, guilt, and acceptance which made his stomach hurt. Mourning for the potential life of love he could have had with his friend, guilt for what he had just unleashed, and acceptance knowing that whatever came next he had to accept. He needed to let this dream, this delusion of anything more with Leon die.

He pocketed the copied Altered State disk then left the basement resigned to his fate, feeling uglier then he ever had before.

Leon, for about the hundredth time that day, had no idea what was going on. As the countdown on the quest reached zero and a grating mechanical noise emerged from the house behind him Alvis let out a sinister laugh, face twisting into an evil satisfied grin. “Looks like your boyfriend chose chaos over you,” the technocrat said. Then he pulled a lever on his mechanism and the cockpit shot out like a rocket, blasting Alvis and the mechanical core of the mech high and far into the air before a parachute deployed and Leon’s evil roommate drifted slowly to the ground laughing all the way.

Leon didn’t have time to watch Alvis’s descent. A wave of notifications blinded him coming at first in rapid succession before coming slower like the last few stubborn popcorn kernels in the microwave. Around him, he heard the other students on the street yell in alarm and confusion.

“The player count for this version of Altered State has reached critical mass. The system has upgraded itself from version 1.2 to version 1.3.”

“The player count for this version of Altered State has reached critical mass. The system has upgraded itself from version 1.3 to version 1.4.”

“The player count for this version of Altered State has reached critical mass. The system has upgraded itself from version 1.4 to version 1.5.”

“The player count for this version of Altered State has reached critical mass. The system has upgraded itself from version 1.5 to version 1.6.”

“The player count for this version of Altered State has reached critical mass. The system has upgraded itself from version 1.6 to version 1.7.”

“The player count for this version of Altered State has reached critical mass. The system has upgraded itself from version 1.7 to version 1.8.”

“The player count for this version of Altered State has reached critical mass. The system has upgraded itself from version 1.8 to version 1.9.”

“The player count for this version of Altered State has reached critical mass. The system has upgraded itself from version 1.9 to version 2.0”

When he focused on any of the notifications two smaller ones popped up.

“A full list of changes is available to all players with above 100 in intelligence or with a technology-based class. Thank you for playing Altered State.”

“Altered state is a product of the HunkTech corporation. Any unauthorized tampering with any version of this product will result in an immediate correctional effort.”

Leon felt something shift and then pop within his brain as if he had rapidly descended into the deep ocean. The appearance of the UI superimposed onto his vision by the game changed becoming more sleek and modern. Before it had looked like a 90’s RPG with blocky text and bold bright colors. Now however all the lines were clean and simple, adjusting themselves into a more unobtrusive and intuitive places in his vision. New tabs also appeared on his UI, there was one for stats, another for his quests, and a third for his inventory, which was currently empty. Another tab had a list of contacts. Edward, Ruth, and some of his more friendly acquaintances were on there along with most of his professors, though his family and friends from home were missing for some reason. Looking closely he saw he had the ability to start chats with any of them or invite them to a party. There was also a tab for achievements, one which had a map on it, and the last tab which was an auto-populating journal that listed with detailed information all the classes, perks, items, abilities, and game related things he had encountered. Leon knew he could, and would spend hours reacquainting himself with the new features and the changes to old ones but first, he needed to find Edward.

The bulk of Alvis’s robot still lay on the street, dented from the multiple places Leon had hit it with thrown debris or his own fists. The road and surrounding front yards were marred from the battle, big chunks of electoral and water lines having ripped themselves up from the ground and flooding the street with dangerously electrified water. Leon heard some loud voices coming from the other side of the street and slowly made his way over.

As he navigated the debris he felt himself slowly shrink back down to his usual size, his Size Up ability having finally run its course. Leon felt suddenly weak without his boosted strength and inhuman muscle size, though he knew he was still clinically speaking totally jacked.

Leon felt his breath catch as he saw the source of the commotion around. The dozen or so onlookers who had been filming the battle now stood on the street all talking over each other with panic or disbelief. A few stared blankly into space with the familiar glazed look of reading a notification or checking out their stats.

Sure enough, all the onlookers now had name tags floating above their heads which listed their name, their classes, and their level, which for all of them was level one. A few houses down a group of sorority girls walked outside looking for answers. All of them too had classes now listed above their heads, some made sense like the Cheerleader, Bookworm, or Pop Star class; while others seemed more bizarre like a short blond girl with the level one Radiant Knight class or another with the Park Pigeon Lady class.

More people came out of their homes or got out of their cars, nearly all of whom had classes now listed above their heads. Leon even saw a dog on a leash that now had the class Best Boy above its head and a squirrel that ran by with the class Nutcracker.

“Leon” he heard a familiar voice yell. Leon turned to see Edward making his way towards him. Leon felt like scooping his friend up in a hug and never letting him go but Edward seemed strangely sheepish and hesitant so he kept his distance.

“All this, was it really Alvis’s plan?” Leon asked gesturing to the confused level one people around them.

“Part of it at least I think.” Edward said surveying the chaos with an odd detached look on his face “Did you get him?”

Leon shook his head “He got away.”

“That's alright. I got him with my captive serpent technique.”

“What does that do again?” Leon asked.

“Prevents him from being able to cum.” Edward said handsome smile slipping onto his face for a moment.

“Oh, he’s not going to like that.”

A dark sad look came back over Edward’s face and they stood there in awkward silence, the first Leon could remember since they had first met. “So, what now?” Leon asked trying to bring a lightheartedness back.

It didn't work on Edward. “I guess we just go home,” he hesitated and looked like he was going to cry for some reason “or you could go out to a party and pick up a girl if you wanted. I’d understand.”

“A girl?” Leon asked laughing “What are you talking about?”

“I saw a level one cheerleader. She was really pretty. I’m sure you could pick her up now with your body and stuff.” Edward said, spitting the words out like they were burning his mouth on the way out.

“Edward,” Leon said trying to interrupt his friend.

Edward kept going. “I’m sorry about our hookup before. It was fun and all but I know you probably want something more serious and -.”

“Edward” Leon said again louder stepping forward.

Edward continued stubbornly adverting his gaze away from Leon “And about what I was saying before, I don’t know what I was thinking. I know it was just physical between us and that I kind of forced you into it with my perks and that you wouldn’t want anything more with-“

“Oh, will you shut up already,” Leon said placing one large hand over Edward's mouth, feeling the erotic thrill of the touch. Edward tried to say something but his words were muffled by Leon’s fingers. He looked up at Leon with eyes that looked so sad and hopeful and tired all at the same time, eyes that made Leon’s heart melt.

“I like you, Edward. I like like you. Yeah, I want things to be like they were before. I want to play video games together and hang out every day and tell you all my stupid jokes. But I also want to do other stuff, like snuggle in bed with you, and kiss you and I really want to have sex with you like 100 times a day.” Edward gave a weak laugh from under Leon’s hand, still obviously unconvinced. Leon’s no-fear perk made him bold and he continued to dump the thoughts that had been brewing in his mind all day. “Edward if something happened to you I don’t know what I would do. I care about you a lot, you're like my favorite person in the whole world. And I don’t really know what that all means, I still don’t think I’m gay but I want to have sex with you and to be your best friend and I guess that's basically like being a boyfriend. He said the last part as a question, suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable and fragile, a thing he hadn’t thought he could ever feel with his physical size and strength.

He lifted his hand away from Edward’s mouth to reveal a brilliant charming smile that dimpled Edward’s face adorably. “Do you really mean it?” He asked like a boy opening presents for Christmas.

“Of course I do,” Leon said returning his own grin. Edward wrapped his arms tight around Leon’s naked back, hands barely able to meet with how wide his shoulders were. “So is that a yes to the whole boyfriend thing?”

“Of course it is you dork,” Edward said. He laughed melodically and Leon lifted him off the ground spinning him in the air. The two kissed, slow and passionate and oh so right. Leon felt like he had beaten the game like this was what all the questing fighting and discovery had been for. Some of the people outside turned to stare at the two gorgeous men making out, though most were too preoccupied with their new classes and the quests they had just been given to notice.

Leon knew things were about to change. That the life he knew, the world he understood were now things of the past. Yet in that moment none of that seemed to matter. Leon couldn’t see the chaos around him, nor the displays superimposed onto his vision. All Leon could see in that moment was his lover, his best friend, his roommate, and now his boyfriend. He knew that so long as they were together everything would be alright.

Epilogue

“I’m not drunk” Edward slurred in a way that made it very clear he was completely sloshed. He slumped over into Leon’s lap eyes glazed over not from reading notifications but from the copious tequila shots and evidently very dirty Shirley he had just consumed.

“Sure your not,” Leon said patting his boyfriend’s head efficiently. “I’m just going to chat Tag and ask him to make you one of those detoxing drinks.

“Uhhh” Edward groaned into Leon’s lap. “Those taste like dog food. I should not have -” he hiccuped loudly “tried to keep up with you.”

At least twenty shot glasses sat empty in front of Leon and he didn't even feel a slight buzz. Tag had invited him to the bar convinced his latest creation would be strong enough to get Leon drunk and while the drink, a mix of every alcohol imaginable, was strong enough to fry a liver from smell alone it was no match for the combination of his Metabolizer perk and his level seventeen Relentless Constitution perk which made him resistant to things like temperature, pressure, sickness, and poison.

Leon was secretly a little miffed that he would be relegated to being the designated driver for the rest of his college years though the trade off’s offered by his class were more then worth it. Besides at the moment Edward was drunk enough for the both of them.

Leon placed a dinner plate-sized hand on Edward's back and started to rub up and down causing his boyfriend to moan appreciatively. Leon felt an overwhelming urge to protect Edward which he knew was due in part to his genuine feelings towards his boyfriend and also the result of Edward’s level 17 perk, Protect Me, which compelled the men around him to protect him in times of distress.

Leon navigated the tabs of his UI, a thing that had become second nature in the month since they had started their Altered State Journey, and opened up a private chat with Tag. “Could we get an order of your detox drink in the back? Edward's real housewife sloppy drunk.”

A moment passed then Tag sent a personalized emoji doing a thumbs up, and sent a message saying he would be there as soon as he made one for Trent as well.

A level eighteen weatherman with the bland generic handsomeness of a TV newscaster glanced their way as he walked by, bringing a pocket of cold air with him causing Leon’s nipples to perk up. Because they were going out Leon had managed to squeeze himself into a pair of XXL jeans though he couldn’t bring himself to put on a shirt. With his Naked confidence perk no one minded his lack of dress, least of all his boyfriend.

As if alerted to the state of Leon’s nipples by a silent bell Edward sat up and began to massage Leon’s pecs, which had grown to the size of softballs to match his 62 strength, and squeeze it like a stress ball. His grip had some actual strength behind it thanks to the lean muscle he had managed to pack on from a few gym sessions aided by Leon’s Personal Trainer perk. While Leon barely felt the pressure of Edward’s grip through his naturally armored skin he did feel the effects of Edward’s Euphoric Caress. After two weeks with lots of physical contacts, the perk no longer overwhelmed him, though it still made him shift in his seat and his dick stiffen to attention.

“That guy was totally checking you out.” Edward slurred in his drunken state, grabbing a fist full of Leon’s chest hair and tugging on it like an inquisitive child.

Leon rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding he was totally checking you out.”

“I think he was checking us both out, maybe he could be our special unicorn,” Edward said giggling to himself before hiccuping loudly again and laying his head back into Leon’s lap.

Early on the two had agreed that they were both secure enough in their bond to allow the other to have some fun on their own. Edward who was not lacking for willing and eager sexual partners had taken advantage of their arrangement a few times, though Leon had yet to. His feelings regarding his sexuality were still too confusing and there was still too much he wanted to explore with Edward for him to feel the need, though he didn't begrudge his boyfriends escapades. Edward had gotten it into his head that they should bring a third into their sex lives to spice things up and was now on a full blown hunt for a “Special Unicorn”.

From the other side of the bar, two glowing orbs of light trailing glittering sparks behind them flew towards their table. They spun in place before growing brighter and larger resolving into the shape of Tag standing and Trent hovering, as he now always did, in front of them.

Though Leon hadn’t met either before they had been assigned classes on that fateful night he knew from Edward that Tag looked relatively the same as he had a week ago. Tall and fit with dark skin and tattoos, he wore a tight black shirt and baggy jeans that hugged his ass and crotch. Leon still wasn’t gay but being with Edward had given him an appreciation for good-looking men like Tag.

So far as Leon knew there were only two effects from the game that had changed Tag’s appearance so far. The first were the few workouts he had led Tag through which thanks to his level 13 Personal Trainer perk were much more effective at building strength. The second came from a special juice shot that Tag now drank daily which boosted his charisma a few points, making his face more handsome and his dick slightly larger.

Above his head, Tag’s tag displayed his name and his class, a Mixologist, though it didn’t show a level. This they had discovered over the course of the month since that fateful day was due to the fact that Tag’s class was considered a profession. Profession classes were often based off artisan occupations or other skilled jobs and gave related bonuses. Profession classes were less common but Leon had seen many in the month since Alvis’s machine had gone off like the Seamstress, Carpenter, Perfumer, or the Barber class which Alexi had received, making his haircuts even better and giving small stat bonuses to anyone who received his services. Unlike embodied classes which gave abilities or Conduit classes which gave access to Energy Points and techniques, profession classes didn’t level up. That meant they didn't gain perks or attribute points naturally. Instead, they had access to skills.

Tag had reported that there were hundreds if not thousands of skills available. Things like walking, breathing, eating, or sleeping all counted as skills and were available to be leveled up by those with profession classes. Increasing a skill made a person better at that thing and also gave passive or active bonuses at each level depending on the skill.

Not all skills were created equal, however. Profession classes gave huge bonuses to relevant skills. In the weeks since he had gotten his class Tag had managed to level up his Mixology skill to level fourteen while his sex skill, a thing Tag assured him he was doing a lot of, had only leveled up once.

Tag theorized there were ways of boosting skill progression or even having more than one profession class at a time though he hadn’t yet figured out how to do either.

“I told you those Dirty Shirley’s were too strong,” Trent said taking in Edward's slumped drunken state. Though he was significantly shorter than Tag he hovered a few feet in the air on a pair of iridescent fairy wings making Tag have to look up to meet his disapproving gaze.

Tag gave Leon a sheepish glance then walked over to Edward whose eyes were half closed and were muttering something to himself. “Yeah still working on that recipe. Just give me a second and I’ll fix him up.”

Tag reached his hand into a small bag on his hip much further than should have been possible then removed his hand holding a large glass. He reached back in and procured a mug of hot coffee liquid, an egg, and half a lemon. Trent helpfully freed up Tag’s hands by making each ingredient float in the air with a wave of his hand as Tag pulled them out.

Leon knew Trent had specifically picked the level fifteen technique out of the three offered by his Pixie class that allowed him to warp the space of containers in order to make something for Tag to carry his mixology supplies around in. At the moment he could only work his technique on small bags but Trent had told him and Edward that once he had enough energy points he could do the same to a whole room or even a building, warping the space to make them bigger on the inside then the outside.

Tag added each of the ingredients to the glass, stirred it exactly three times in each direction then offered it up to Edward. Leon sat Edward up and took the glass placing it to his lips, The unappetizing brown slightly lumpy looked like it tasted like dogfood but Leon knew the effectiveness of Tag’s brews and so tipped the liquid back between his boyfriends pillowy lips. Edward gagged before gulping the concoction down with a sour look on his face.

Instantly color returned to his face and he sat up on his own, eyes focusing with their usual intelligence. “Have you really not found a way to improve the taste?” Edward asked wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and scowling at Tag.

“Next on my to-do list,” Tag said sitting down on a stool next to Edward and giving him a cheeky grin.

“As if. You just like to watch us suffer.” Edward said playfully shoving Tag.

Trent stayed hovering in the air on his wings but descended a few feet down and floated closer to the table so he was next to Leon. “I think the raw egg isn’t even necessary. He just add it to be a dick.”

“How dare.” The tag said in mock outrage. Leon watched his friend's banter with a smile. Once he might have joined in with his own playful jabs but ever since he reached level 20 a few days ago and earned the perk Stalwart Presence he had found himself content to be a more passive observer in group conversations. A pillar of good-natured strength rather than a participant.

He felt strange about how that perk along with his level 8 No Fear perk and in some ways his Tip Top Testosterone perk were changing his personality. Sure he might be becoming a better person but it felt wrong to have that forced upon him rather than undergo that development himself.

Edward too had received perks that changed his personality. His level 20 perk, Shed Your Skin, had made him more sociable, friendly, and flirtatious. The shy reserved Edward he had once known was now a thing of the past. In a way their dynamic had completely shifted and yet underneath it all they were still fundamentally the same people, at least Leon hoped.

“It's been a few days since we have seen you, what have you two been up to other than fucking like bunnies?” Trent asked with an impish grin. He too had received a personality-adjusting perk at level 20, making him more playful and mischievous, better in line with his Pixie class. His appearance had had also changed as he leveled. Besides for the obvious wings he now had his face had gained a puckish handsomeness from the charisma he received at each level plus a perk that caused his ears to now end in points.

Like how level five caused a rapid and drastic change to one’s body it seemed to be a universal thing as well that level 20 caused a change to one's personality. It was one of the reasons that a sizable amount of people given classes were hesitant to advance them. Level 20 it seemed was also a sort of soft level cap. Afterwards the game no longer provided the same regular relatively simple quests that were so useful in leveling up fast early. Instead, one was forced to level up relying on the XP gained from doing tasks related to their class or from XP rewards granted from rarer situational quests like event quests or combat quests. Edward and Leon hadn't yet gotten another of those and in the week or so since they reached level twenty and though both had earned enough XP to reach level 21 it had taken a few days of determined effort, a much slower process compared to their earlier rapid assent in levels.

For Leon that meant he had to spend a lot of time in the gym or playing sports to earn Juggernaut XP, while Edward earned XP by talking to people, specifically men. With some experimentation, Leon had also discovered that intense sex provided him with XP while Edward received XP through foreplay. They did plenty of both, for their development of course.

“I’d say this one is more a jackrabbit than a bunny,” Edward said gesturing to Leon with an equally devious grin. “It’s been weird trying to settle back into my old routines though.” Edward continued somewhat more seriously “I mean it’s just kind of hard to focus on my lessons when I know half my classmates can shoot lasers out of their eyes.”

All at the table nodded at that. Alvis’s device had caused the activation code for Altered State to be blasted onto every TV, phone, and device with a connection to the internet on campus and the surrounding areas. The code had remained long enough and had happened at a busy enough period to ensure that most of the the student body and faculty who lived in the area had joined the game and given classes. This had also overloaded the system and forced the game to update itself eight times to version 2.0.

In the ensuing chaos the university had shut down. It became the fascination of international news as what first was first being reported as mass hysteria quickly became a story about the supernatural powers the local residents now possessed and the video game they claimed to be in.

The school had made the bold choice after only two week of closure to resume its usual functions, now with a dedicated department to honing and utilizing these new abilities and with lots of research grants given to those with professional classes.

Tag had been given a generous stipend to pursue his mixology by the school. He often told the others how strange it felt to buy alcohol on the school's dime, though that didn’t stop him from doing so copiously and with a great generosity for sharing the results of his experiments.

Those however like Leon and Edward whose classes were not particularly beneficial to anyone but themselves were still expected to attend their usual course schedule. There were of course many who ignored this edict, too enwrapped by their new reality or afraid of it to attend class. However, there were also surprising number of people who were content to live life as they had before, mostly ignoring the video game display now permanently superimposed onto their vision and making little use of the perks and abilities they did earn.

Leon and Edward were somewhere in the middle. While they attended most of their University classes their focus had definitely shifted to experimenting and advancing their Altered State classes and enjoying the fruits of their efforts. Their educations just no longer seemed quite as important, especially when they received guaranteed increases to their intelligence each level.

“I know what you mean,” Trent said agreeing with Edward's comments about classes. “My Early American Literature class has become impossible to focus in.”

“Why’s that?” Edward asked, “Did the professor get the pilgrim class?”

“No worse, he’s a DILF.” The table was silent for a moment and Trent rushed to clarify “that's his class I mean, and he’s high-level too.”

“That's a class?” Edward exclaimed surprised. “What type of perks does it give? Is it charisma or strength based?” He asked, a bit too excited for his curiosity to be purely academic.

“Maybe both” Trent guessed. “He’s gotten all muscly and handsome over the past few weeks as he’s leveled up. I’m not sure about perks but his hair turned this really sexy salt and pepper at level eleven I think.”

“Oh my god, what time is your lecture?” Edward said all pretenses of casual curiosity gone as he turned to Leon with object joy on his face. “Maybe he can be our third! I could seduce him, you know I could.”

“Maybe,” Leon said though the idea did intrigued him.

“What are you boys talking about?” A voice said from behind. Leon turned to see Ruth and a long-faced girl he recognized as Olivia, one of the Dagahir player who had fought Hunter with. She had been granted the Shieldmaiden class while Ruth had gained the Girl With a Giant Sword class, which as the name suggested had given her the ability to summon and wield a sword that was nearly the size she was. The sword, which was thick and silver with red ornamentation stood point into the floor next to her. Some gave it curious looks as they passed but most ignored it, as it was no longer an uncommon sight to see individuals carrying weapons granted by their class especially not to the mostly classed student patrons of the bar.

Leon scooted his stool a bit more towards Trent to make room for the newcomers at the table. The others knew Leon’s friends they would be coming and shifted as well to make room for the two women. Trent flew over the table to hover by Tag so that Ruth could lean her sword on the wall he have been hovering by.

Since that fateful day Leon had attended a number of Dagohir meetings, ones made significantly more interesting now that a majority of the club had been granted classes most of which happened to lend themselves to medieval combat in some way.

“Trent was just telling us about this DILF class,” Leon said trying to involve the newcomers into the conversation.

“A DILF class?” Ruth asked, “What department is that in?”

“English” Trent said and Ruth’s eyebrows shot up.

“That's the professor's class, in the game.” Leon clarified.

“Ahh,” Ruth said looking suddenly thoughtful. As soon as the two newcomers had arrived Tag had busied himself making them drinks from the supplies in his physics-defying bag. He hadn’t bothered to ask what either wanted, one of the perks of his class was that he usually knew on instinct. “Don’t you think it's weird how gendered the classes are?” Ruth asked.

“What do you mean?” Tag asked as he handed her and Olivia two white drinks that looked like Pina Colada complete with little paper umbrellas.

“I mean just look.” She said gesturing at her and Olivia’s Shieldmaiden and Girl With A Giant Sword classes floating above their head then at a table in the corner of three goth girls labeled the classes Vampire Huntress, Vampire Seductress, and Vampire Priestess. “Don’t you think it’s strange that classes would specify gender in them? Plus from what I have seen the classes assigned to women tend to lean more towards fighting while all the guys classes sound like they could be gay porn categories.”

Trent snorted at that but Tag looked thoughtful. Edward shot Leon and meaningful glance and Leon nodded. Edward had informed him of what Alvis had said and while they originally chalked it up to the rantings of a madman they had started to reconsider the notion that the game might be alive in some form. There were just too many coincidences and and incidental happenings for someone not to be in control of the game, and from what Alvis had said it was unlikely to still be Hunktech.

Ever since Alvis had escaped that night neither had heard or seen from him at all, and while his stuff still remained in their apartment neither had high hopes of him paying his share of next month's rent. Edward was convinced that Alvis had skipped town but Leon wasn’t so sure. Edward still maintained his Captive Serpent technique on Alvis mean the man hadn’t climaxed in at least a month. He doubted his incel roommate was to happy about that and suspected he would try to force Edward to release him sooner or later. To be safe Leon had gotten the local locksmith who had received the Locksmith profession to install new locks now imbued with extra strength.

“Also,” Ruth said filling the empty science her questions had left “have you guys seen a single hetero couple.” That stumped the table as all wracked their brains trying to think of if they had seen any. Leon had heard of a number of other individuals with sexuality-bending class features like Edward had though all seemed orientated towards same-sex relations.

“So you think the game has a gay agenda?” Trent asked smirking. Ruth only shrugged, face stoic. She had become a rather serious person, and Leon was realizing she might not actually be a great friendship match for the ever-playful Trent.

“To the gay agenda,” Edward said raising his Dirty Shirley in a toast breaking the tension that had begun to bubble. He took a sip of the Dirty Shirley Tag had made for him earlier and his eyes instantly took on an intoxicated look. Leon suspected he might need another of Tag’s detox drinks before long.

Leon stood up from the table. While the shots he took earlier might not have gotten him drunk it did give him the need to pee like a fountain.

“Kiss before you go, babe?” Edward asked sweetly. Leon shook his head ruefully. He knew firsthand the power a kiss from Edward had gained after the Snake Charmer had reached level 19. A perk called Venomous Kiss made it so that Edward’s saliva now contained a non-lethal toxin that caused any man who injected it to want Edward desperately and irresistibly. The toxin naturally wore off after half an hour or if the antidote, located in Edward’s sperm, was consumed. Leon had been under the effects enough the past few weeks to know that while extremely fun it was also nearly impossible to control himself while under the effect and that a kiss now would likely result in them having sex in the middle of the bar, scandalizing their new friends.

“Maybe later babe.” He said excusing himself from the table and heading towards the bathrooms in the back. He maneuvered between a level eleven Combat Medic and a level sixteen Exorcist with glowing red eyes, apologizing profusely as he brushed up against them, mindful of the space his 250 pounds 6’5” body took up and also feeling slightly scared of what the Exorcist who’s eyes glowed a malicious red might do if pissed off.

A table of low level guys gawked at him as he passed. One with the class of Nudist who was predictably nude whistled at him as he passed. “Flex for us” he practically begged. Leon gave a rueful smile, a slight bicep flex then went into the men's room. His level 18 perk, Mr. Olympia made his muscles extremely appealing to onlookers, and requests for such displays were not uncommon, though Leon still felt embarrassed being so openly objectified.

Inside the bathroom, Leon approached the unoccupied of the two urinals. He fished out his dick from his pants which had grown even bigger with added levels thanks to his Grower and Shower perk, a jaw filling nine inches. In his peripheral vision, he could just make out the tag of the man peeing next to him. A level fourteen Big Dicked Wonder. Though it violated all urnal codes Leon couldn’t help but cast his gaze down to the man's penis.

The class name was no lie. The man’s dick looked like a prosthetic. It made Leon’s thick dick look like a shrimp. He felt his mouth began to water and had the sudden overwhelming desire to put the guys cock in his mouth. He suspected the sensation was a result of one or more of the man’s perks but didn't really care.

The man saw his looking and gave a cocky wink. Leon felt like he was going to swoon. Maybe this would be his first encounter without Edward or even better maybe this man could be the third Edward had been searching for. He knew Edward at least could handle this big dicked wonder with his Charmers Basket perk and Leon could only hope his athleticism would let him as well.

Leon’s horny thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a muffled sobs coming from one of the stalls. He turned and felt his mouth fall open in shock as he saw the name tag floating above the stall. Hunter, level six wretch.

With a deep sigh he stepped away from the Big Dicked Wonder and marched up to the stall, wrapping on the door twice with his fists, the natural ridges of bone grown up over his knuckles from his Brass Knuckle perk made a loud noise on the metal door that echoed around the bathroom.

“Occupied,” a high nasally voice said from the other side sniffling.

“Hunter opens up, it's Leon” he called.

There was a pause then Hunter shouted “Go away” from the other side of the door.

Leon sighed, then activated his inner strength ability and checked the door with his shoulder, snapping the lock and causing the stall door to slam open with a crash. The Big Dicked Wonder gave them a sidelong glance before somehow tucking his massive dick back into his pants and hurrying back into the bar.

Inside Hunter sat on the toilet with his pants around his ankles and his head in his hands. He looked nothing like the fit frat president he had once been and even less like the raging roided out muscle bull he had become. His limbs were shrunken and spindly, face blotchy and his dick sitting flaccid between his legs was minute, like a sad baby carrot.

“Don’t look at me.” He shrieked when he saw Leon “Haven’t you done enough.”

Leon felt a wave of both intense satisfaction and pity. He wanted to both laugh and also to help his poor pathetic former rival. He chose the more compassionate of the two. “Hunter let me help,” Leon said in as calming a voice as he could manage.

“No! You made me like this. Just go away” Hunter said voice cracking as he buried his head in his hands, to hide the tears Leon suspected.

Leon opened his mouth and then closed it. Edward with his 61 charisma would undoubtedly know just what to say to calm Hunter down and get him to open up. Leon however had no such ability and so instead chose to just stand there and wait for Hunter to say more, blocking any path out.

Eventually, when it was clear Leon wasn’t leaving like he asked Hunter did. “Cassy left me. She’s a Flower Power Hippie now that makes plants grow just by being near them and I’m this.” He gestured to his shriveled skinny body then stifled a few more sobs.

“Hey, at least you're level six,” Leon said trying to comfort him. His words only made Hunter sob harder.

“I had to pick up trash on the side of the road and give food to homeless people,” He said as if recounting traumatic memories from war. “And all I got were these stupid perks that made me feel all guilty and stuff for the way I acted.”

“How awful,” Leon said though his sarcasm was lost on Hunter.

Hunter looked up at Leon’s towering bulk which filled the entire stall with a mix of disgust, admiration, and jealousy. It was a strange reversal of the way not too long ago Leon might have looked at Hunter. “I wouldn’t bother with these quests except these stupid notifications tell me if I reach level twenty I get to change classes to something called a Repentant, which has to be better than the Wretch class,” Hunter said. It was clear he had been itching to confide in someone. “I’ll never get there though.” Hunter said again slipping into self pity “My level six quest is impossible. I have to apologize to someone I wronged.”

Leon did his best not to laugh. “You could apologize to me,” Leon said and Hunter looked up confused. “You know for trying to strangle me,” Leon clarified.

“Oh,” Hunter said. He took a second to compose himself as if he was about to receive a lethal injection. “I’m sorry for trying to kill you, two times I guess. My memory is a little hazy after I got that class and I wasn’t thinking clearly but the first time I guess was my fault or whatever. I just felt threatened by you and took it out in unhealthy ways.”

Leon was surprised by the genuineness of the apology. So too was Hunter, his face twisted in confusion then into a smile as the number above his head changed to a seven and he leveled up. The physical changes were small, Leon suspected Hunter was only receiving a fractions of stat points each level, but his pale skin grew a shade more rosy and his body which looked like it could be knocked over by a breeze grew a bit more hale.

“That felt kind of good,” Hunter admitted sitting up straight. “Maybe I should apologize to Cassie as well.”

“If you want I have a whole table of folks you could apologize to out there,” Leon said gesturing outside.

Hunter opened his mouth to say something but a colossal boom drowned him out. The entire bathroom shook and Leon only stayed standing due to his level 16 Indomitable perk. Hunter cowered into himself and lifted his hands to shield his head. “Stay here,” Leon said before rushing out of the bathroom into absolute chaos.

It took a moment for Leon to process what he was seeing. A hole had been blown in the side of the bar. While most of the students were hurriedly fleeing out the door Leon’s friends along with a few other high-level students were actively engaged in combat. Leon cursed when he saw with who.

A notification filled his vision.

“Combat quest: defeat Alvis, level 32 Technocrat. Reward for success: XP, Spiked Pauldron of the Bashful Basher.”

Under the notification were two options.

“Accept this quest. Yes or no?”

Leon quickly accepted the quest and then joined the fray. Trent and Edward were in the process of evacuating the bar, Trent causing pieces of rubble to float into the air and Edward calming people with his words. Tag had ducked behind the bar and was furiously mixing drinks. That left only Olivia and Ruth facing off against Alvis.

Their third roommate had clearly not been stagnant over the months since his plan had come to fruition. He had made some serious upgrades to mech, which was no longer a blocky behemoth but now a sleek smaller suit armor that moved with alarming swiftness.

Beams of white energy shot from a cannon on the mech’s back harrying Ruth and Olivia. Olivia deflected each one with her shield while Ruth dodged them swinging her gigantic sword with impossible ease. Each hit of her sword were blocked by a holographic hexagonal shields that swung up around the mech before becoming invisible again.

Leon felt felt his Sentimental Strength perk activate. The perk lent him a boost of strength when he felt intense emotions, like sadness or pain or arousal as Edward had been delighted to discover. At that moment all he felt was rage.

Leon charged forward and roared, his voice dropping several octaves and becoming thunderously loud. Olivia who was had been slowly pushed back by Alvis’s onslaught surged forward and Ruth redoubled her efforts, both bolstered by his level fifteen ability Battle Cry which granted a boost of strength and courage to allies who heard his shout.

Alvis seeing Leon turned to face him. He dismissively activated a technique which caused an electrified net to spring towards Ruth shocking and entangling her. The level sixteen Combat Medic from before rushed to her side as did Olivia, blocking the beams of energy sent to finish Ruth off.

“Look who is all grown up. You got bigger” Alvis said, amplified voice sounding more sane then it did the last time they faced.

“And you got uglier,” Leon said though he couldn’t actually see Alvis through the thick metal of the suit. “What do you want?”

“I want your boyfriend to release me from that chastity spell,” Alvis said swinging a metal fist at Leon. Leon activated his Inner Strength ability and caught it, though the force still sent his feet sliding back into a table flipped over by the blast.

“Not going to happen,” Leon growled.

“Then I’ll just have to kill you both,” Alvis said bringing the mech's other hand over his head to smash down onto Leon.

“That’s not going to happen either,” Leon yelled diving out of the way. He rolled behind the bar right next to Tag who wordlessly handed him a faintly glowing yellow shot. Leon downed it and felt his muscles swell slightly and his mind speed up. He nodded thanks to Tag then dove over the bar.

Trent and Edward having finished evacuating the students ran up to his side while Olivia helped Ruth to her feet and the two came to join as well so that they were all facing down Alvis, ready to give the technocrat a true fight.

Most great adventures in video games tend to end with a defeated bad guy, a kingdom set back in order, and a victorious hero. Our’s ends with a bar fight with a mech. That's because real life tends not to be so simple, and because this was not the end for Leon and Edward it was only the beginning.

#male tf #male transformation #musclegrowth #tf #ai image #straight to gay #reality change #gay litrpg #videogametf #yellowjester

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numbuh24insane · 2 months ago

Text

Bowser vs Eggman: The Aftermath, Sonic's Realization

Restoration HQ

The Restoration's base hummed with quiet industry, a symphony of activity unfolding in the sprawling headquarters. Engineers tinkered with machines, repairing damaged equipment salvaged from the frontlines of battles past. Analysts poured over maps and reports, ensuring the Restoration could respond to any crisis at a moment’s notice. Volunteers bustled through the corridors, distributing supplies to be shipped to remote villages still recovering from the scars left by Eggman’s takeover.

Near the central operations hub, Tails oversaw a group of technicians calibrating a new detection system, his twin tails flicking with excitement as he explained the upgrades. In another corner, Belle hummed a song as she worked on long overdue repairs, her focus undeterred by the chatter of Jewel's logistical assistants organizing supply runs. The day was typical, steady, and predictable. Something that was becoming more and more common in this fantastical world.

Sonic leaned against a safety rail on the upper balcony overlooking the main floor, his arms crossed casually as he took in the scene. Below, a pair of members chuckled at the antics of Rough and Tumble on a monitor. The bumbling skunk duo had tried robbing a supply caravan earlier that week, only to be thwarted by Whisper and Tangle.

"You know," Sonic idly started as Amy came up behind him, "This place runs like a well-oiled machine. Kinda weird seeing it so . . . calm."

Amy smiled. "It’s what we wanted, right? To rebuild without having to fend off badniks every day."

"Yeah, I guess." He tapped a foot idly against the ground. "Just feels like it’s been too quiet. The biggest threats these days are Rough and Tumble making a mess of some random store or Clutch trying to pull off another shady deal. Hardly the kind of thing that gets my blood pumping."

"Maybe that’s a good thing," Amy said, looking at him. "We’re not supposed to need you to be the hero all the time, Sonic. The Restoration can handle the small stuff."

“And I’m here to clean up the big stuff . . . but nothing big has happened in months. I can’t even remember the last time Eggman pulled one of his ‘I’m-gonna-conquer-the-world’ stunts. Man, I just can’t shake the feeling that something big is going to happen, that it’s just right around the corner. If that makes sense.”

"It does," Amy admitted, her tone thoughtful. "I mean, after everything with Starfall Islands, I thought we’d have a new crisis by now. But Eggman’s been completely off the radar."

"Maybe he’s finally throwing in the towel," Sonic said, tilting his head back and gazing at the ceiling. "You know, after losing Sage . . . I think that hit him harder than he’d ever admit. She was like a daughter to him."

Amy frowned, taking in this new information. "You really think that’s enough to stop him? Eggman’s a lot of things, but giving up isn’t one of them. If anything, he’s probably using this quiet time to build something even more dangerous."

"Maybe," Sonic said, tapping his chin in thought. "Or maybe he’s finally realized there’s more to life than building giant ego-machines. I like to think losing Sage might’ve made him . . . rethink things."

Amy glanced at him, her expression softening. "You always see the best in people, even someone like Eggman. But I don’t think he’ll ever stop being Eggman. He’s always scheming, Sonic. Always."

Sonic smirked, the corner of his mouth curling as he turned to face her. "Well, if he is planning something, we’ll handle it. Like always." He tapped the rail. "But for now? I’m gonna enjoy the peace. Even if it is a bit boring."

Before Sonic and Amy could exchange another word, the lights flickered ominously across the Restoration’s base. A sharp crackle of static blared through the speakers, drawing everyone’s attention. The monitors scattered throughout the facility turned black for a brief moment before the familiar crimson insignia of the Eggman Empire appeared with the text ‘Please Stand by’.

The room erupted in confusion and alarm. Restoration workers scrambled to consoles, engineers fumbled with emergency protocols, and Tails bolted to the main control panel, barking orders to the tech team. Above it all, Sonic remained leaning against the rail, his grin widening.

"Well, well," He said with an amused chuckle. "Speak of the devil. Let’s see what ol’ Egg for brains has been plotting!" He could feel that surge of excitement and adventure rise up within him.

"If you are seeing this," Eggman began, his tone uncharacteristically serious, “Then I am dead."

A stunned silence fell over the room. Even Sonic’s grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a raised eyebrow of genuine surprise. Amy’s eyes widened before shaking her head with disbelief.

Eggman continued, his image flickering as though the message were pre-recorded. "Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking. 'Is this some sort of trick?' Let me assure you, if this message is playing, then I have shuffled off this mortal coil.”

He paused dramatically, letting the words sink in before throwing his arms out in mock despair. "Tragic, isn’t it? The world has lost its greatest genius! A monumental loss for science, for civilization, for Mobius itself! But don’t mourn me too much! I’m sure my end was spectacularly dramatic!" The scientist laughed, twirling his mustache.

Eggman continued, his tone shifting to a speculative drawl. "Speaking of which, I’m curious. What could possibly have done me in? Was it one of my magnificent plans going down in flames? Did one of my creations rebel and finally catch me off guard? Or . . . " He grinned, pointing straight at the camera. ". . . did you finally do it, Sonic?" He leaned back stroking his chin as he considered the possibility,”If so, I do wonder what prompted you to do it. I had to have had a truly devilish marvel of a scheme to get you to finally cross that line.”

Eggman suddenly retracted, waving his hand dismissively. “Ah, who am I kidding? You’d never do it. No, no, no you’re too soft. Always playing hero, always keeping me alive so we can do this little dance forever. Ohohoho!”

Amy crossed her arms, annoyed.. “He’s still insufferable as always.”

Eggman wiped a tear from his eye before continuing his spiel, “But fear not Sonic, even if I’m gone you’ll still have quite the foe on your hands! Should Metal Sonic still be operational, and really, why wouldn’t he be? I built him to perfection. Then my empire is in capable hands. Metal will carry my legacy, and he will succeed where I could not. He will destroy you, Sonic. Oh yes, your days are numbered. Even now, I’m sure he’s already formulating the best way to turn you into a smoldering pile of ash! How proud I am!”

The screen glitched momentarily, then Eggman continued, his expression softening into a smug grin. “Of course, I can’t leave without a personal touch. I’ve prepared special messages for each of you. Think of them as parting gifts from beyond the grave! They should be arriving . . . oh, about now.”

As the video cut off, the Eggman Empire logo pulsed on the screens, and then, one by one, the Restoration’s systems began rebooting. Almost immediately, individual monitors across the room displayed specific names: Sonic, Belle, Amy, Tails, and others.

“He can’t be dead, can he?” Belle questioned, her wooden body rigid and eyes wide with disbelief. She was shaking, almost to the point of breaking. The poor puppet jumped as Tails placed his hand upon her back and got her to calm down.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Sonic uttered out, for once he didn’t have his casual smile upon his face. The wind seemed to have been taken out of his sails. One by one each of them approached a different monitor, wondering what kind of message Eggman had left for them.

Sonic leaned forward, his finger hovering over the notification bearing his name. The air around him felt heavy now, the reality of Eggman’s proclamation beginning to set in. He steadied his shaking finger and tapped the screen.

The screen lit up again, revealing a new recording of Dr. Eggman. This time, the background was less ominous. It was his usual workshop, cluttered with half-finished machines and screens displaying blueprints of his countless schemes. Eggman lounged in his oversized hover chair, a smug grin plastered on his face. That grin while still as smug as ever, seemed less performative and much more natural, as though this part was meant for Sonic and Sonic alone.

"Sonic," he began, spreading his arms grandly, "If you’re watching this, then congratulations you’ve outlived me. Bask in the glory of knowing you survived the greatest mind in history! I’m sure you’re standing there, smirking like you always do, thinking you’ve won. But let’s not get too carried away. Because if there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you’ll never really consider this a win. Not against me"

Sonic nodded, it was true. He never wanted to see Eggman die. He always dreamt that Eggman would have a change of heart, that he would re-adopt that Mr. Tinker persona and work on making the world a better place. That was what victory meant to the Blue Blur, not this.

Anything but this.

"You know, Hedgehog, you’ve been the proverbial thorn in my side for years, and yet . . . I can’t say I ever hated it. Not truly. Sure, you’re insufferable, cocky, and annoyingly fast, but you’ve also been . . . entertaining. From our first little dance back on South Island to our more ambitious confrontations, like, oh, I don’t know, the time I turned you into a werehog . . . Not one of my brightest moments, mind you. But the point still stands! You pushed me, Sonic. Forced me to innovate, to improve, to strive for perfection. The brutal truth is that I am glad that you foiled my plans, it made my future endeavors all the more worth it."

"But," Eggman snapped, his voice snapping back to its usual boisterousness, "Don’t let this go to your head! Even dead I’m still smarter than you in every conceivable way. GAH! If I’d had just a little more time, I would have won! Make no mistake about that!” He pounded his fist against the table before calming himself down,”I’ll admit . . . there were times I almost respected you. Almost."

Sonic let out a soft smirk, understanding that was a confession of respect from the egomaniac.

The workshop around Eggman seemed almost smaller now, the man himself quieter despite the bombast in his words. "But alas, here we are. I’m gone, and you’re still here. I know you’ll carry on, saving the day and being that insufferable do-gooder you’ve always been. And honestly?" He allowed himself a small, almost wistful smile. "The world’s better for it. If I can't take over the world, then you better ensure that no one else will!"

Sonic’s hands dropped to his sides, the faint ache of realization settling in his chest. This wasn’t just another one of Eggman’s melodramatic speeches. For the first time, the finality of it all began to sink in.

He hated this.

This was something that he couldn’t run from, that he couldn’t use his prowess to overcome. Eggman was gone . . . and that fact truly hurt the carefree blue blur.

Sage had asked him to look after Eggman. Those were her final words, for him to ensure that her father would continue to live, for them to make up their differences. And he had failed that little girl, and he had failed himself.

Eggman straightened, his expression shifting to something sterner. "But enough sentimentality! I saved the most important part of this message for last." He tapped the side of his chair, and a familiar figure appeared on the screen beside him. "Sage."

Sonic's eyes went wide as he pressed his head against the screen.

Sage was gone, why was Eggman bringing her back up?

Eggman let out a confident smirk,”I managed to save her, Sonic. I scoured the Starfall Islands and all of Cyberspace, finding the remnant parts of her code, stitching it all back together and nursing her back to health! I succeeded where you failed her!” He uttered out, pressing his finger against the camera.

“She’s alive!?” Sonic shouted out, prompting glances from other Restoration members. A soft grin emerged upon his face,”Of course she is . . . It’s Eggman after all.” He was a miracle worker, always able to do the impossible.

“I’ve already integrated her into the Eggnet. She’s protected now, there won’t be any incidents such as what happened last time, and she WILL outlast me.” Eggman guaranteed, having worked long and hard to ensure Sage’s longevity and survival.

The image on the screen pointed directly at Sonic, his gaze sharp and serious. "And here’s the kicker, since I’m gone, I need someone to look after her. Someone who understands her. Someone who . . . " He hesitated, as if the words tasted strange in his mouth. " . . . who can help her find her place in this world. That someone, Sonic, is you."

The weight of the words hit Sonic like a freight train. The usually confident, quick-witted hedgehog found himself at a loss.

"I know what you’re thinking," Eggman said, his smirk returning faintly. "Why would I trust you with something so precious to me? The truth is, I don’t. But you’re the best shot she’s got. You’re . . . a hero, after all. And for what it’s worth, I think Sage would have liked that."

Eggman leaned back in his chair, a glimmer of something almost human in his eyes. "So, there you have it, Sonic. My final request. My final challenge. Take care of my daughter. And try not to screw it up." He then let out a grin,”And if you do? Then I’ll find a way to rise up from the grave and get you! Oh-hohoho!”

Sonic stood there absorbing Eggman’s last request as he heard the wicked scientist laugh for one final time.

The message ended abruptly, the screen fading to black. For a moment, the bustling sounds of the Restoration felt distant, muffled. Sonic stared at the blank monitor, his chest heavy. He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat.

Sonic jumped as he felt a hand land upon his shoulder. His head spun around as he saw Amy looking at him, concern clear in her eyes. She ushered him over to where Tails was comforting Belle. The four of them found a nearby table, a heavy silence was practically smothering them as they sat there.

Belle shuddered.

Amy gently placed a hand on Belle's arm, her usual energy tempered with concern. "Belle . . . do you want to talk about it?"

Belle hadn’t spoken yet, her head still bowed. Belle’s hands trembled as she finally looked up, her voice quivering. "H-he called me his daughter." The room fell silent, all eyes turning to her.

"He said . . ." She paused, wiping at her wooden cheek with her sleeve. "He said he never understood the value of family until Sage. But that . . . he regrets not seeing it sooner. Regrets not seeing me as his daughter while he still had the chance." Her voice cracked, and a tear slid down her face, glinting like dew. "He hoped I could accept Sage as my sister. That we could . . . be a family. Even without him."

Amy moved closer, placing a gentle hand on Belle’s shoulder. "Belle . . ."

"But he’s not my father," Belle said quickly, her voice defensive and firm, though the tears kept falling. "My father was Mr. Tinker. Not him. Not-" She stopped, squeezing her eyes shut. "I don’t know what to feel. He hurt so many people. Hurt me by becoming him again. And yet . . ." She shook her head, her voice breaking. "I still wanted to hear those words."

Sonic stood, his face unusually serious as he placed a hand on Belle’s shoulder. "For what it’s worth, Belle . . . Mr. Tinker was real. He was Eggman, just without all the bad stuff clouding his mind. And if that version of him could care about you, maybe that means the Eggman we knew had some of that deep down, too."

Belle’s wooden fingers tightened into fists as she looked at him. "Do you think he really meant it? That he wanted us to be . . . sisters?"

Sonic gave her a small, reassuring smile. "From what he said in my message? Yeah. I think he did. He talked about Sage too, about how much she meant to him. And I think you meant as much to him as Sage does."

Belle bowed her head, letting the tears flow.

Tails frowned as he pat her back, trying to help his friend in her grief.

"Well, I don’t know what I expected, but that message was . . . something else." He crossed his arms, his twin tails flicking behind him. "Typical Eggman, though. Started off talking about how he was the greatest genius of all time y'know, classic 'Doctor Ego', but then he said something about me being . . . what was it? 'The second-smartest mind to ever grace this world.'" He snorted, but there was a small, conflicted smile on his face.

Amy leaned forward, curious. "Wait, second-smartest? That’s a compliment coming from him!"

Sonic smirked, reaching over to ruffle Tails’ fur. "Well, you are the smartest guy I know, little bro. Took Eggman long enough to catch on."

"Yeah, but then he said, 'With me gone, I suppose you’ll finally have a chance to take the top spot. Don't mess it up, Prower. Not that you’ll ever match my heights!' Like he couldn’t resist one last dig." Tails shook his head, but the faint admiration in his tone was undeniable. "Still . . . hearing him admit that? It means a lot, I guess."

Sonic glanced over at Amy,”What about you Ames? What did Eggman say to you?”

Amy looked down at the table, her brow furrowed. “Mine wasn’t much better. He said I should stop chasing after you, Sonic.” Her voice wavered slightly, but she pushed through. “‘It’s unbecoming,’ he said. And that I’m wasting my potential, that I’d be better off focusing on myself instead of clinging to someone who doesn’t share my feelings.” She huffed, trying to mask the hurt. “Then he called me ‘stubborn to a fault’ and said I’d probably ignore his advice anyway. But . . .” she hesitated, her voice softening. “He said I’m stronger than I think. That’s . . . the only nice thing he said.”

Amy sighed, “He wasn’t completely wrong, was he? Maybe I do need to focus on myself more. I’ve been thinking about that for a while now.”

“You’re all right to feel how you feel. Eggman’s always been full of himself, but this . . . this is something else.” Sonic rubbed the back of his head, his eyes darting away. “It’s weird, you know? He’s always been there, always scheming, always chasing me down with his machines. And now he’s just . . . gone?”

The room fell silent again, the weight of Eggman’s absence settling over them.

Sonic pushed off the table and stood upright, his tone shifting to something more determined. “I can’t just sit here and let this stew. I’ve got to find Sage, and I’ve got to get some answers.”

Amy stood up, worry etched on her face. “Sonic, wait. It could be a trap. Eggman’s always been two steps ahead, even when it looks like he’s lost.”

Sonic gave her a half-smile, the sadness still lingering in his eyes. “Maybe. But I’ve got to get some answers. I owe it to all of us to figure out what’s going on.” Without another word, he turned and bolted from the room in a blur of blue, the air crackling in his wake.

Amy sighed heavily, crossing her arms again. “That hedgehog . . . He’ll never change.”

Tails leaned forward, a soft smile on his face. “Don’t worry, he’ll be okay. He’s Sonic after all.”

Belle wiped her face, her voice soft but resolute. “He’ll find her. He always does.” She paused, “And when he does, I’ll have my own questions for Sage. About him. About all of this.”

Eggman Land

Sonic raced through the countryside, the wind roaring in his ears, his mind churning. As he neared Eggman Land, the imposing theme park/fortress loomed over the horizon, its garish lights and towering structures stark against the twilight sky. Yet, something was off . . . there were no patrols, no badniks racing out to intercept him.

The gates were wide open, the rides whirred and the neon lights shined bright, but not a single soul in sight. It felt as though the place had been abandoned in a hurry, left on autopilot. Sonic slowed his pace, the eerie silence pressing down on him. His instincts screamed that something wasn’t right, but he pressed forward, weaving through the empty attractions until he reached the central tower.

As he entered it, he noticed the broken pieces of glass that littered the floor. Moving his gaze upwards revealed the monitors that were all destroyed, laid in ruins. One cracked monitor had Eggman upon it announcing his death in repeat. He finally turned his gaze to the center of the room and saw a man there, leaning forward at a console. He wore a black suit that was currently unkempt, shards of glass hanging loose off of the sleeves.

It was Agent Stone.

One of, if not the most loyal of Eggman’s followers.

Sonic took a step forward, glass crunching under feet. The sound alerted Stone to his presence, the man twisted around gripping a wrench as he faced the blue blur,”You!” He growled out with a rage that Sonic had never seen before. “You’re not allowed to be here! This place is sacred! A monument to the Doctor’s genius!”

Sonic gave a sheepish smile as he raised up his arms in surrender,”Woah! Don’t worry, I’m not here to mess with Eggheads stuff, I’m just here to get some answers. Such as . . . “ Sonic disappeared in a burst of speed, reappearing directly in front of Stone, the wrench wrenched out of his hand. The man fell back onto his chair in surprise,”Such as what happened to Eggman.”

Stone felt his own powerlessness as he turned his head away from the Hedgehog. “He’s not dead.” His voice was full of pain,”He can’t be dead. The Doctor doesn’t die . . . he always has a plan! He is a genius! The greatest genius! D-death is something that can’t apply to him.” His voice broke,”He wasn’t supposed to be gone for this long.”

Sonic’s head tilted as he caught the last part of Stone’s grief-filled speech,”What do you mean, he wasn’t supposed to be gone for this long?” He asked.

Stone glared at the Hedgehog, but gave in as he saw the sheer concern in Sonic's eyes,” . . . Months ago, the Doctor was studying the limits of the warp topaz. It opened a portal to a whole new universe. At first, Eggman wasn’t interested in it. It was far too underdeveloped compared to our universe, that was before he caught sight of a kidnapping attempt and discovered the Koopa Kingdom.”

“Koopa Kingdom?” Sonic questioned,”Never heard of it.”

“Of course you haven’t.” Stone blinked,”I just told you it was from a different universe!” He leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh,”That Koopa Kingdom held a tremendous power and seemed as ambitious as the Doctor, so the Doctor decided to conquer it before it could become a threat to his own plans . . . “ Not to mention he wanted the power that Bowser held for himself. “There was a time table and plans he had to transport his whole army to this new universe, to execute Operation Catfish and then conquer it with one big battle . . . Only, I haven’t heard anything from the Doctor since he left.”

Sonic nodded, everything was beginning to fall into place here. It was like old times, Eggman finding some power that no one knew about and trying to get it for his own ends. It goes badly and now it's time for Sonic to bail him out.

He let out a smirk.

“Stone, you can transport me there, right?” Sonic asked, ready to go out and save Eggman and Sage.

Stone blinked, then narrowed his eyes. “Why would I do that? You’re his enemy. If anything, I should kick you out of here!”

“Think about it,” Sonic grinned. “If Eggman’s stuck in some other universe, you’re not exactly going to get a postcard from him. I’m fast enough to get in, find out what’s going on, and get back before you can even finish another cup of coffee. What have you got to lose?”

Stone turned back to the console, his fingers flying over the keys. “There’s a portal generator in the lower levels. I’ll activate it and set the coordinates to the universe that the Doctor went to.”

Sonic gave a confident grin. “Thanks, Stone. I owe you one.”

“Don’t thank me,” Stone muttered. “Just . . . bring him back.”

Sonic nodded and turned to leave, his mind racing. “Hang tight, Egghead,” he said under his breath. “I’m coming for you.” With that he disappeared into a blue blur as he sprinted downstairs and into the portal below.

KOOPA KINGDOM

The transition was instantaneous yet disorienting. For a moment, Sonic felt weightless, as if he were floating in an endless void. Then, with a sudden burst of light, he was propelled out of the portal and into a vast, vibrant landscape.

He landed on his feet, skidding to a stop atop a hill covered in bright green grass. The sky was a brilliant blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds. The air was warm and carried the faint scent of flowers, reminding him of home, of Green Hill Zone.

He shot out in a burst of speed, rolling around at the speed of sound. He crossed each and every hill as he searched and searched. His leg collided with something hard and caused him to trip. He groaned as he twisted himself around and gasped. What his foot had collided with was the remnants of metal sonic. His entire lower body had been eviscerated, his upper body remained in three separate parts.

“Metal.” Sonic uttered out, expecting and hoping for the robot's eyes to light up, but there was nothing. It remained dim and Sonic felt a lump form in his throat as he questioned what could possibly hold the power to destroy Metal Sonic.

“Can’t stay here.” He reminded himself and continued forth. Each and every step he became more and more worried, as questions ran through his head. After all, he knew that Eggman would never leave Metal there, not like that.

He bounded over a Hill and became privy to a scene of utter carnage. In the distance, the Egg Dragoon was hoisted in the air, its body having a massive spike of Earth through it. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Eggman’s body, but breathed out a sigh as he realized that was just one of his D3COYs. His head swiveled around, going over the sea of badnik parts and seeing the disembodied head of the Death Egg Robot.

“What happened here?” Sonic muttered out, a tinge of fear in his voice. He jogged down hill, going straight towards that head . . . but stopped as he caught sight of the Egg Mobile. It was cracked, left in a derelict state.

What’s more was the fact that it was completely made out of stone.

It was over.

Sonic knew that it was over. That Eggman came here to conquer and he lost everything. After all, the Egg Mobile was always his last line of defense. It was how he always escaped and survived, not even a blackhole would destroy it. It was a safety net for the Mad Scientist, that no matter how bad things became, he could always escape it via the Egg Mobile.

But here it was.

Broken.

Just like everything else around here. From Metal Sonic to the Death Egg Robot, there was no way that Eggman survived.

Sonic sat down, leaning his back against the cold stone. His gaze moved up to the clouds, wishing that things could be different. Wishing that he had followed through on what Sage had asked of him at Starfall Island and that he checked up on the mad scientist.

For a long moment, Sonic said nothing. Then, his voice broke the stillness, soft and almost hesitant. “So . . . this is it, huh?” Sonic said softly, as if Eggman could hear him. “Leaving without ever truly saying goodbye. You always had to make things dramatic, didn’t you?”

The silence stretched around him, the wind rustling faintly through the distant grass. Sonic rubbed the back of his neck, forcing a small, bitter chuckle. “You know, for all your evil schemes, you were never boring. I kinda liked the challenge, you always kept me on my toes.” He smirked faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Even after all the times I trashed your plans, you never gave up. Always bouncing back, always coming up with something new . . . .”

Sonic chuckled, running a hand through his fur. “I know I give you a hard time, but I always thought . . . maybe one day, you’d change. You had it in you. I mean, look at Belle. Look at Sage. You’re capable of more than just destruction, y’know? You can create such fantastic things, I know if you put your genius into it, you could’ve made a better world. I mean, look at how much joy you created back when you were Mr. Tinker.”

He sighed, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. “I just . . . I wish things could’ve been different. That maybe, just once, you’d decided to fight with us instead of against us. You always said you wanted to conquer the world, but I think what you really wanted was to prove something. To yourself. To everyone.”

Sonic leaned his head back, closing his eyes as the sun warmed his face. “You were the biggest pain in my butt, but . . . it was fun. The races, the battles, the smack talk, it was all a game to you, wasn’t it? And, yeah, I had fun too. More than I’d ever admit out loud.”

Sonic got up to his feet, staring over at the Egg Mobile. “I’m going to look for Sage, I know you wouldn’t have put her in harm's way. I’ll find her and bring her back home. I owe it to the both of you.”

He raised up his arms and fist bumped the machine.

“Thanks for the memories, Doc.”

With that he sped away.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #fanfic #death battle #amy rose #belle the tinkerer #dr eggman #eggman #dr ivo robotnik #sonic experiences grief #sonic does not know how to process grief #agent stone

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mirensiart · 1 month ago

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Okay. This is a long shot. You don’t have to answer this. I’m just having a bit of an issue with a Zelda fic I’m writing and I don’t know anybody else who plays Zelda or makes fan content, so I have turned to the internet. If this ask offends you and you want to throw it into the void, you’re welcome to, I’m sorry for bothering you.

The fic is basically TotK if it fit in with the rest of the timeline. Zelda is sent to Skyloft’s time, Rauru’s ghost is actually post-linked-universe!Sky (and he doesn’t stay a ghost for long), that sort of thing. For the plot I am looking into what happened in the era before Wild with the Sheikah tech, and I came up with a Minish OC to be another Sage, as in some Zelda games there is also a Sage of Forest or a Sage of Earth. I’m combining the two. I need to pick or create someone to be the forest Sage in Wild’s time. As some additional context, I’m more or less designing a Divine Beast for the Minish Sage to pilot (that was still being built when the ban on Sheikah tech was announced and thus left a bit unfinished, and not mentioned in the legends). I really like the idea of giving Wild a little mouse companion, but I feel a little obligated to make Hestu the Sage, as all the other Sages (except the pilots/sages from the Sheikah era) are characters we know from the game. I hesitate to make it Hestu because, since the first pilot was a Minish, their Divine Beast will be about the size of the Master Cycle 0 at very most, and thus will be awkwardly sized compared to a 8ft tall broccoli. The way I see it I have 3 options:

1. Make Hestu the Sage and scale-up the Divine Beast for whatever reason (probably make the previous sage a korok or kokiri instead).

2. Create a Minish OC to be the new sage.

3. Make it so the Divine Beast was so far from completion that Hestu is unable to pilot it, or 3b. Make it finished enough that Purah is able to repurpose it into something big enough for Hestu to pilot.

I hesitate to make it Hestu for the mentioned reasons. I hesitate to make it a Minish for the mentioned reasons. I hesitate to make it incomplete to the point of un-salvageability because I have ideas about Ganon taking over it and using it to try and kill the Sage and/or spy on Link. I hesitate to make Purah repurpose it for the above reasons, and because that would take a while and I don’t want to put huge timeskips in this fic.

So. I’m aware this is a long shot and I’m sorry springing this on you when I’m a complete stranger. I’ll reiterate that you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to. But on the chance that this isn’t too much of a reach, do you have any thoughts?

Ok, first of all, I'm sorry for taking so long to reply! I hope you're still looking for some advice on this 😭

And second of all, I LOVE this concept so much ohmygod rauru being Sky is such a galaxy brained concept, I love it !!!!

Hmmm 🤔

I do like the idea of the previous sage being a kokiri as a nod to the fado+makar combo from wind waker, so a kokiri oc+hestu being the sage could be a fun way to tie that in

However I also love the idea of a minish sage 🤔 would separating the sage of earth + sage of forest be something you'd be willing to do? You'd have to come up with another divine beast, but it could work

That OR you could just...not use hestu lol like he is a funny little guy that helps with the korok seeds, u could just make a korok OC who's small and not a huge thing like hestu so the divine beast can be used

Like the korok oc could be one of the guys u help around in totk, or one of the little guys with names in the lost woods, u know how there's some cute guys who run the shop or the inn inside the Great Deku tree?

I'm pretty sure there's some korok npcs there that have canon names

Maybe it's Hestu the one that starts the quest so Link can meet up with the little guy, like Hestu tells u about the divine beast and the possible sage, etc.

I'd go with that tbh, since I feel your main issue is hestu himself, so just don't use him since he doesn't really fit with what you're planning 🤔

Anyway idk how helpful you'd find this, but I don't mind people sending me their ideas or asking for help for their fics or world building!

#miry's ask box

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sailorgoon13 · 10 months ago

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Vash Stampede

Basics:

Full Name: Vash Stampede

Nickname: Vash, Blondie

Gender: Male

Date of Birth: 15 December, 1871

Heritage: American

Blood Status: Muggle Born

Wand: Rowan wood, 11 3/4", Dragon Heartstring, Slightly Springy. Prefers to use his revolvers

Appearance:

Hair Color: Blonde

Eye Color: Blue

Skin Tone: Fair

Height: 6ft

Body Type: Lean and athletic

Style: Rugged, Eccentric

Features: Messy blonde hair, Blue eyes, Mysterious smile, Freckle on left cheekbone. Always has his red coat and revolvers

Personality:

Traits: Optimism, Compassion, Morality, Playful, Courageous

Likes: Donuts, "Love and Peace", Comedy, Nature, Helping others

Dislikes: Violence, Loneliness, Tragedy, Harm to the Innocent

Hobbies: Exploring, Stargazing, Spending time with friends

Fears: The unknown, Losing control, Failure, Harming Others, Being Alone

Family and Friends:

Father: Muggle (Unknown)

Mother: Muggle (Unknown) Siblings: A few muggle siblings (Unknown) Twin brother Nai, also a wizard and shares rare ability with Vash

Friends: Rory Wilder, Garreth Weasley, Ominis Gaunt, Sebastian Sallow

Magic:

Special Abilities: Can wield and use Ancient Magic

Boggart: His darker self

Patronus: Phoenix

Polyjuice: Glints of gold and silver flecks would shimmer in a rich amber color. Taste like wild berries and honey followed by a warm, spicy kick of cinnamon and cloves. The aftertaste would linger with a hint of smokiness

Amortentia: Fresh Rain, Gunpowder, Vanilla and Sage

Backstory:

Vash's backstory is a captivating yet heartbreaking tale. Born into a destitute Muggle family alongside his twin brother Nai, they were the only ones in their large brood to possess magical abilities. At the age of eight, their parents, unable to comprehend or cope with their uniqueness, callously cast them out into the streets to fend for themselves. Facing the harsh reality of homelessness, Vash and Nai clung to each other for support, relying on their wits to survive the unforgiving streets. In a stroke of fate, Vash obtained a stolen revolver, providing a semblance of protection for himself and his brother amidst the perilous urban landscape.

Their fortunes took a pivotal turn when they received letters of acceptance from Ilvermorny at the age of eleven, granting them a chance to harness their magical potential. At school, they quickly distinguished themselves, drawing the attention of Professor Rem Saverem, their History of Magic instructor, who took them under her wing. Professor Saverem became a mother to the orphaned boys, offering them guidance and nurturing their burgeoning talents in a nurturing environment.

Despite their shared upbringing, Vash and Nai took divergent paths in their magical education. While Vash reveled in camaraderie and levity, earning a reputation as the class clown, Nai excelled academically, driven by an insatiable thirst for knowledge and power. Tensions between the brothers escalated when Nai sought forbidden knowledge to further enhance his abilities, leading to a confrontation that ultimately ended in tragedy. Nai's descent into darkness culminated in a catastrophic act of violence, leaving devastation in his wake.

In the aftermath of the tragedy, Vash found himself ostracized and scrutinized by authorities, his academic performance suffering as a result. Faced with the threat of expulsion and the loss of his magical privileges, he was sent to Hogwarts in a last-ditch effort to salvage his education. It's at Hogwarts where Vash encounters Aurora 'Rory' Wilder, another wielder of ancient magic, and together they embark on a quest to thwart Nai's nefarious plans and prevent further catastrophe.

Haunted by his past and burdened by the weight of responsibility, Vash struggles to find redemption amidst the chaos unleashed by his brother's actions. Yet, fueled by a newfound sense of purpose and the bonds forged with his allies, he remains determined to confront his demons and fight for a brighter future.

Academics:

Best Subject: Muggle Studies

Favorite Subject: DADA

Favorite Professor: Professor Hecat

Worst Subject: Ancient Runes

Least Favorite Subject: Transfiguration

Least Favorite Professor: Professor Shah

Student Life:

Vash initially struggles academically. He is very smart but doesn't always like to apply himself

Despite the challenges he faces, he forms meaningful friendships with his fellow students.

Throughout his student life, Vash grapples with moral dilemmas and inner turmoil stemming from his past and the actions of his brother. He wrestles with questions of guilt, redemption, and the nature of good and evil, struggling to find his place in a world that often judges him based on his family history.

Template: @hazyange1s

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strawberrybasilsorbet · 4 months ago

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Jilytober Day 6

Had some time this evening to work on another Jilytober fic! (Edit: Oops, forgot to tag! @jilytoberfest ). Hoping to go back and catch up on the days I missed, but in the meantime, here's my try at today's prompt:

October 6th: Making food together / food disasters

Clearly, something had gone wrong.

James furrowed his brow, staring at the chunks of apple and squash that he'd painstakingly peeled and cubed — by hand! — before dumping them into the tall Muggle goblet. Maybe he'd made a mistake with the plugs?

Around him, the kitchen hummed with the soft crooning of a record player and the clinking of pots and pans. The aroma of thyme, sage and cinnamon filled the air, suffusing the space with the unmistakable scents of Christmas Eve.

Lily and her mother were chatting about a neighbor's upcoming baby shower, occasionally pausing to check a recipe book or put a dish into the oven. James glanced over to make sure that neither of them had yet noticed his mistake, then turned back to the eclectic goblet on the countertop.

He double-checked the plug. It sat in the wall, exactly as Lily had shown him. He looked once more at the switch on the back of the device. It was pointed toward the word "On."

Wasn't something supposed to be happening?

James yanked the plug out of the wall and flicked the "On/Off" switch again. No change. He removed the tight-fitting lid from atop the goblet and peered inside, trying to see if anything stirred. He could see the circle of blades at the bottom, but they didn't move.

There was nothing else for it.

"Um, excuse me. Mrs. Evans?"

"What is it, dear?" asked Lily's mother, looking up from where she had begun to measure out a cup of sugar.

James thought back to his fifth year Muggle Studies vocabulary exams, trying to remember the proper phrasing. "I think that your power might be out," he said.

Lily looked up, and she and her mother exchanged a glance, confused. James cringed internally at the awkward moment. He must have gotten it wrong. "I mean, I think there's something wrong with your eckletricity," he corrected hastily. He gestured at the goblet. "It isn't working."

Mrs. Evans still looked wrongfooted, but Lily smirked. "Having trouble with the blender?"

Even as embarrassed as he felt, James couldn't help but return her smile. "Yeah, seems like it," he replied.

"Did you plug it in?"

"Yes."

"Did you turn it on?"

"Yes!"

"Did you hit the button?"

James paused. "The button?"

"In the front." Lily giggled as James turned back to the device, examining the raised knobs on the base. He always forgot about Muggle buttons, which looked nothing at all like normal buttons, the sort one might use to fasten a cloak. "You have to press the button to make it start, James."

"Right," said James. He looked over at Mrs. Evans and ran a hand through his hair, trying to project confidence. "I know about buttons," he told her. "We covered them in school, I just forgot. I'll get it started now—"

"No, wait! The lid—"

But before James could react to Lily's warning, he had already pressed the fateful button that began the eclectic spell. With a horribly loud whirring sound, the blades at the bottom of the machine came to life, turning with a speed that made the goblet shake. In moments, it had sent chunks of apple and squash soaring through the kitchen — and splashed the chicken stock directly into James's face.

Without thinking, James grabbed his wand from his pocket and cast a Body-Bind curse on the machine. He'd mostly done this on impulse — he hadn't been at all certain that it would work — but the machine froze, salvaging most of the ingredients inside. He flicked the switch to "Off," then removed the curse.

James turned sheepishly back toward Mrs. Evans, who looked as if she were caught between amusement and disbelief. After a moment, amusement won out, and she laughed warmly before handing James a towel from a drawer.

"That's alright, James, dear," she said. "Why don't I take over the soup for now, and you stir up the batter for the pudding?" James nodded, switching places with Mrs. Evans to join Lily at the table. He wiped the stock from his face. "Can you double-check the roast, love?" Mrs. Evans asked her daughter, grabbing some more apples to replace what had been lost. Lily nodded and turned to the oven.

Putting the towel aside, James picked up a wooden spoon to work on the pudding. He hoped his face wasn't too red.

Gripping the spoon awkwardly in his hand, he began to mix the sugar, chopped cranberries, flour and molasses together in wide circles. This was only his second time meeting Lily's parents —the first had been on the train platform as they arrived home for the holidays — and his first time visiting a Muggle house. He'd been so proud to be invited to Christmas Eve dinner, and when he'd offered to help, he'd been hoping to show the Evanses that he could fit in — to make a good impression. But the sheer number of strange devices and loud sounds to remember had overwhelmed him, made it difficult to keep Lily's instructions fixed in his head. He hadn't meant to use magic. Not, James grumbled internally, that he'd been doing so well without it...

James's spiraling thoughts were interrupted by a warm hand taking his own. His heart stuttered. "Hold the spoon like this," Lily said, stepping in to rearrange his grip. "Like a wand. You'll have more control, and you'll be able to whip the batter faster."

James could think of nothing but the warmth of Lily's hands over his own. She stood so close that he could have counted her freckles without his glasses.

The sudden din of eckletricity made him jump. Mrs. Evans had managed to fix the issue with the eclectric goblet (The blender, Lily had said? Or was he thinking of a fender?). After a few moments, the apples and squash were pulverized into a thick, liquid mixture. It looked as though the soup was saved.

"There," Mrs. Evans said with satisfaction, turning back toward Lily and James at the table. Her lips quirked upward, and Lily took a quick step back.

"I was just showing James how to hold the spoon, Mum," Lily said, reddening. "He doesn't mix batter often, since wizard families usually use spells for cooking..."

Mrs. Evans, who had looked skeptical of her daughter's excuses, turned toward James with interest. "Really?"

James nodded. "Oh, yeah, we always use magic to cook at my house."

"Well, isn't that the most exciting thing!" She looked impressed. "Could you show me?"

"He can! He's seventeen, too!" said Lily eagerly. That was right — she'd said that her mum was interested in magic. It was her sister that was the problem...

James ran his hand through his hair, which (to his embarrassment) was still wet with chicken stock. Lily's mother was watching him expectantly. This was his opportunity to make up for his earlier fumbling, James thought, drawing his wand. He tried to remember the spell for stirring. He'd seen the wand movement so many times...

The cranberry batter exploded in his face.

The kitchen was silent. James blinked, covered in food for the second time in a row. "Um. Usually my mum does it."

Mrs. Evans burst into loud guffaws, and suddenly, James felt lighter than he'd been all afternoon. "Of course she does," Mrs. Evans said. "Nothing new under the sun. Let me grab you a towel to clean up, dear..."

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Evans," James said. As she bustled from the kitchen, he turned back toward the table, wondering if he should measure out ingredients for a second batch.

As Mrs. Evans footsteps grew quieter on the stairs, Lily stepped close to James once more. "Very smooth," she whispered in his ear. In a quick movement, she licked some of pudding batter from his cheek and kissed the skin underneath. James blushed.

Lily walked back to her side of the table, eyeing James with mock thoughtfulness. Cranberry juice and molasses stained her mouth like lipstick. "The batter's okay," she said, grinning. "Let's add more sugar this time."

#jilytober2024 #31prompts #prompt 6 #james potter #lily evans #jily #hp fanfic

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deliciouskeys · 7 months ago

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S4E4 hot take (spoilers)

Ok well, perhaps I just keep expecting terrible writing around the corner after Gen V and/or I knew this particular bit of the story has to have been overhyped. I’m okay with the episode. Definitely the weakest of the four thus far. But nothing irreparable has been retconned.

Things that were meh

Annie’s character makes less and less sense to me. No good Sage lines that stood out. No Ryan, who’s like my third fave at this point. The limited budget ending (don’t show and don’t tell lol). A Train forgiveness a bit underwhelming, but Butcher salvaged it for me.

Things that are fine

“But Fudgie the Whale was usually promoted around Father's Day, using the slogan, "For a whale of a dad."” -Wikipedia

Things that personally threw me for a loop

It is kind of weird to see how-did-he-masturbate-in-the-lab get so much screen time after mentioning it in fics or writing a whole fic about it. That was not on my bingo card of things on ao3 that we would see in s4. Doesn’t help that I pulled an all-nighter doing my class work and then just stayed up to watch this. I feel like I read weird HL fic with irrelevant plot interludes. Dawn is here. Maybe sleeping would be a good idea at some point.

#hot takes #the boys spoilers #they really went with the following orders line huh #guess I’m fine with it #he and magneto can be buds #the boys season 4 #the boys #the boys tv #I’ll return with more thoughts when I’m awake #or fewer thoughts maybe

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silver-heroes-rp · 13 days ago

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I have so much Shard on the brain so here's some more about his story in this AU

His redemption is a bit different to his Archie counterpart, and he's still got a bit of a bitter streak when it comes to Sonic. He's decided he hates Eggman more, though.

Sitting in one spot, unable to move and clinging to life among the metallic remains of your fellow robots just as abandoned as you are does something to a bot. To go from your most powerful in the form of Metal Overlord, who could think and act freely away from the commands of his creator to take the world he thought he deserved as his own...

Only to end up as part of the rubble in the water.

Day and night, day and night, day and night, until time seems to loose meaning. But he keeps count. The sun rises, it sets, and the shattered remains of Metal Overlord remain. A hundred years pass, and it comes to reason he's outlived Sonic and Eggman. Just barely, as a shadow of himself, but he takes the victory as his own.

Another hundred years pass. His self-aware AI comes to the realization that he can't be the true Sonic. The true Sonic is a living being. And a living being scarcely lives for over a century, let alone two. So he's not Sonic. At least, not anymore. The memories aren't his, if they ever belonged to him in the first place.

Day and night, day and night, day and night, until all the water has drained away from the pit he'd been rusting in for centuries. The base is uncovered under a darkened sky, and a familiar face, along side an unfamiliar hoglet with Silver quills, find what remains of him.

He's the only thing that can be salvaged. He was built to be a magnum opus, the greatest creation in a genius man's career, so of course he would survive this long. He was built to endure.

So why was he thrown away?

They take his remains to a different self aware AI, who calls herself Sage. They were made by the same person, and yet Shard can tell how much more free Sage is. Eggman must have changed after he was thrown away. This only makes Shard angrier at his old creator. This self aware AI gets to live freely, and Shard gets thrown away?!

He doesn't hold it against Sage.

Sage helps Shard choose his new body. Shard isn't Sonic anymore, so he calls himself Shard. The name feels fitting, as he's only a fragment of the bot he used to be. But it's his name, and his body, which he's changed to be NOT SONIC because he doesn't want anything to do with that old, dead hedgehog anymore.

The world he wanted to run around freely and without restraint is finally his, but it's wrong. The skies are grey, and the land is fragmented. There's no life, no breeze, no green grass or chirping birds to signal the dawn of a new day.

There's no Sonic running around the world like he owns it, with friends Shard thought he had once, but he doesn't even know anymore. Nothing living can thrive in a future like this.

It's everything Neo Metal Sonic would have wanted.

But now that Shard has it, he comes to realize that this isn't what he wants, anymore.

#[shard's headcanons]

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windienine · 8 months ago

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YOU. Kicks my legs like we're at a sleepover. Who was the character u were posting about in the tags.. spill..

kicking my legs back, ready to paint your nails at any time soooooo

okay i already dedicated a whole 2k word post to his partner goddess weird animal who bites him sometimes personal jester friend (?) Ysmé, so this time I'm going to spill about Loïc Ard from Soul of Sovereignty (prelude), an hour-long adult fantasy visual novel preview (< link here) that arrived on itch late last year courtesy of webcomic artist GGDG (if you're familiar with Lady of the Shard or CQ, you know their work)

So. This idiot.

look at this character design. the people hunger for men with strong cheekbones and glasses. look at the robes that attach at the fucking fingertips to draw attention to the position of his hands.

He's very soft-spoken and sweet. He knows a lot about the history of his world, as well as the biology of what lives there. He's staggeringly generous to others, even complete strangers. He's good at cooking. He knows how to sing.

He's the viewpoint character for the lion's share of the story atm, we get to look into his brain a little more often than Ysmé's for reasons that Will Become Rapidly Apparent As You Play.

Loïc is a middle-aged guy (late 30s? early 40s?) who works in an unofficial capacity at an inn in bugfuck nowhere (Tarn, a northerly village miles from anywhere else and regularly frozen solid by blizzards, with a population of Not Enough To Maintain Infrastructure), helping to cook, clean, and care for its mostly non-paying clientele, who his friend Alma, the proprietress, is allowing to stay for free. It's become a glorified sickhouse and shelter. No one is paying to stay in Tarn, but Alma can't turn her back on what she considers her hometown and Loïc can't turn his back on Alma (and he's here for other reasons too) so the inn is just kind of slowly decaying as conditions get less and less profitable. This sucks.

Especially because Tarn was built less than a century ago as an adventurers' hub for treasure hunting squads looking to uncover temples and relics right nearby, and the inn used to be full of good people and good food and fire and light and Alma wants all that back so bad it hurts and she refuses to say it's cooked and move back to the big city (in this case, the Mosaic, an ark-like vertical metropolis that housed humanity for hundreds of years after their world's apocalypse. After the outside was deemed safe again a century back, many people wanted to try and make a living documenting and salvaging stuff... but most of it turned out to be decayed, empty, and/or worthless, after so much time had passed.) The Mosaic is bright and lively, but it's a restrictive place to live for a lot of people-- cultures outside the dominant (very fantasy-Catholic) one are suppressed and the focus on making money to survive is exhausting.

But Loïc makes things a little less miserable. He's got a calm and pleasant bearing, he brightens up the place with flowers and greenery he manages to get growing even in this climate (he's a florist), and he's someone to talk to. He's witty, he's thoughtful, and he's almost a little too willing to dedicate all of his time and energy to helping people, and overall he's this mundane nice fella... with one big caveat you learn real early on.

Loïc is a mage, and a really unique sort.

The floristry bit isn't just his job or a characterization quirk, it's the whole basis of his magic. Species of flowers in this world each hold a unique concept-- fire (pallisia), calm (lavender), light (white dawn's eye), mundanity (dandelion), memory (cloud sage), you name it, there's probably some obscure botanical species that represents something in the ballpark of it. A god of language (Fayim) allegedly imbued a meaning into each, and if you can commune and reflect and experiment around hard enough to unravel the concept of one, you can turn that concept into something real.

Think of it like magical linguistics -- [correct flower] + [expressed meaning] = [physical effect], like [correct phonetics] + [contextual meaning] = [language]. You can even chain a couple of them to make a more complex spell, like turning words into compounds, phrases, and sentences, but you do have to understand what it actually means to do so. You're forming a connection to Fayim's power by talking. This burns up the flower, but Loïc's extreme dedication to botany means that he's got a regular supply of the spells he uses most often.

Loïc can hand you a golden pallisia blossom, start waxing poetic about the nature of warmth, and the firelight kept inside will radiate out and keep you comfortable even in Tarn's frigid weather. It's rare and potent stuff, doubly so because worship of Fayim is dwindling-to-nonexistent in the Mosaic, where the only faith and magic most people are familiar with at all are those revering the Builder, the creator deity who erected the Mosaic and saved humanity from the apocalypse in the first place. Everything else? False gods. Loïc himself doesn't worship Fayim or the Builder; he uses Fayimic magic but is pretty disconnected from his own background + faith in general. He's interested in the theology but doesn't use prayers in his invocation if he can help it.

Magic's not foreign to this world (most people in this world know at least a little artisanry, a more logical and physical approach to magic which lets you stitch together bespoke objects out of thin air, used heavily in both art and industry), but flower reading is a rare and dying language. Loïc's cute little flower shop back in the Mosaic was also a spell broker for people in need of small miracles. Given that the Mosaic worships a creator deity, I guess this implies that magic, generally, is something humans tap into extant divinity to borrow.

So, Loïc is holed up in Tarn studying magic and using mending spells (yellow rose) to cure people of minor injuries, but everything goes to hell when a certain sickly blonde washes up at the inn's doorstep begging for help escorting her to a nearby temple please please you gotta, she'll die from turbo tuberculosis otherwise, god (not the builder, some other guy, don't ask who) said so. Oh my gosh, you will? Thank you so muchhhhhh

[paraphrased very hard]

alma: this is definitely a scam of some kind. please just talk her out of this so she doesn't get eaten by mutant wolves.

loïc: oh for sure but you don't try for scam this obvious unless you're really desperate. idk what she even wants here, let me feel her out. i have nothing worth robbing. maybe this is a trauma thing or a money thing and i can talk to her about it.

alma: loïc, that's literally not your problem. loïc there's this weird pattern where you prioritize the hypothetical wants of strangers over your own proven needs. loïc no.

loïc: loïc yes

So, of course, it ends up coming out that Loïc is in Tarn specifically because he is a single father with a daughter named Lelia who is comatose from an unspecified illness. Her prognosis is extremely grim (low chance of survival that dwindles the longer she stays out, probably terminal.)

Specifically, he's on a hopeless little snipe hunt for a rumored species (the glass bell) that could act as a panacea for any illness, if harnessed correctly in a spell, and it might either be extinct or entirely fictitious.

He knows he can't find it alone. If it even exists, it is a needle in an impossibly massive haystack. He is consumed inside-out with a compulsive need to do something about it, and when that proves impossible, it starts spreading into a compulsive need to do something for anyone. The grief of admitting that Lia is already in a prolonged state of death would eat him alive, so if he can transfer that feeling of purpose onto anything else he can buoy himself. He is spinning his wheels because confronting the fact that he has outlived his own daughter and has to go on without her is impossible.

But like... he's dying slowly, too, in this state. Like Lia. Like Tarn. It's only a matter of time before there's nothing left of himself to give, and at the impetus of the story that's basically what he wants. There's nothing left for him.

... Unless...!!

OTHER THINGS:

would give blessings to his daughter every day before she went to school

apparently has a puppy and a kitty back home

loves lavender and sunflowers most

sometimes casts so hard he passes out

including other people and making his casting into a conversation is a quirk he does and that's just super cute

carries pictures of his daughter around in his spellbook maes hughes style

besides his suspiciously alb-and-chasuble looking mage robes, wears an apron and skirt around the house + gg regularly draws him in cute dresses. this is a known victor's weakness.

the in-game glossary has botany notes from him, usually paired with him waxing poetic about each species' meaning. this nerd shit is a known victor's weakness.

you see his general bearing and a lot of people assume he's kind of this easily-flustered anxious disaster type, but he's actually very serene and difficult to get a rise out of. he'll play along with most jokes you try to throw at him. if he does actually freak out at any point, you know something is up.

we don't know what happened between him and his ex, but there are dialogue clues that point to it being weird and messy. he's played very interestingly as far as divorcee characters go (conflict-avoidant rather than desperate for love, wants to be the better person at every opportunity), what with being a man who has primary custody of his kid (and a good relationship with her!) and taking on a position that the audience would probably identify as more motherly than fatherly, in terms of western gender roles. there's this fun contrast where he's very confident in his looks and presentation and bearing (very charismatic guy!!), but a lot of that is traditionally feminine. he's just very genderous.

(all of this tragically forgoes the meat of his special connection to ysmé, but that is the core premise of the prelude and if i got into that here it would really and truly give away the whole plot. i need you to experience her for yourself. (for ten dollar.) if you do not have ten dollar i will stream the game for you and give GG an additional ten dollar. this is a threat.)

(what i WILL say is that if you read lady of the shard, looked at the "sexualized mind control" tw beforehand and went "well now i want to read it more and not less," there is a delicious taste of that here and it once again intersects heavily with themes of control and coercion over the self, skewed power dynamics, and the emotions that arise from them.)

whatever horseshit this confluence of circumstances makes you assume he will pull, i guarantee you it is not the full picture of what actually happens.

#soulsov #brainrot #kayla i love you for asking this xoxoxo #come talk to meeeee

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forgeworldweatherreport · 1 year ago

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So last night was the first session of my new Lancer campaign, using @vexwerewolf 's In Golden Flame. This iteration of the Hell's Gate Strategic Response Team got a chance to socialize while doing maintenance work, chatted with residents and had lunch at the Happy Noodle Bar (with this version of the proprietor based on Maya Killsixbilliondemons), and were briefed on the station's woes and their next assignment by the terminally stressed Jerry. Next week, they will sortie in a brave endeavor to break the pirate blockade of the station!

This squad includes: -Sétanta "Set" Hawkins, Callsign 'Cornfed', heir to a family that has been part of the Hell's Gate militia since the pyrite age, passing down the callsign and their mech ever since (the latter of which has long ceased to contain any original parts, grandfather's axe style). He's aiming towards monarch parts to enact that one Megas XLR gif.

-Meadow Reaper, Callsign 'Reaper', a bubbly farmer from Asphodel with a militarized farming rig (counts-as a caliban) who joined up for adventure at the advice of a mysterious patron.

-Pale Sage, Callsign 'Porcelain', a hell's gate foundryworker who suffered a horrific industrial accident, only kept alive through donated HORUS tech. She awoke with a transformed body, a knowledge of a strange language of clashing metal, and an appreciation of the purity of the machine. Her new favourite podcaster (who is definitely not an Elesh-Norn-coded deimosian) occasionally sends her gifts. She will

-Hara Stevens, Callsign 'Junkyard', a feral little creechure of a raccoongirl with incredible tech skills, a cyber arm with integrated multitools, dubious personal hygiene, and an NHP puppygirl gf. Her ride is a salvaged IPS-N Kidd missing some core parts (counts as an Everest for now) which will be brought up to full spec, and she is so so eepy.

#lancer rpg #in golden flame #mecha

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freezingwhitefire · 22 days ago

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Just a small thing for my au. Not really too important yet but it will probably get worked into the story at a later time.

"Hey, Storm, you have a hero title too, right?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. I have a title too, same as the rest of you I suppose."

"Any chance we can get you to tell it to us?"

"Oh no, I am not nearly brave enough to tell you that." Storm laughed as he held up his hands in surrender.

He knew that he wasn't that brave, not enough to tell them the truth with his own mouth and words. Oh he knew how several of the group saw him... or rather how they saw the 'Legendary Hero of Time'. None of it was good, not really. Some spoke of him with awe and wonder, Time was one of those, while others used his titled name with derision and contempt, Sage was the main one here but it was easy to see how the others began to question and wonder.

Still Storm couldn't stand the thought of changing things. They would change too, once the others knew who he was. That was obvious even without foresight showing him the looks he knew would be sent his way, the carefully hidden hatred and the doubt that followed whenever he gave a suggestion.

Dysmas seemed like he wanted to press for more details but Fauna and Horus seemed to catch onto him wanting to change the topic and started acting up to get Dysmas' attention away from him. Legend was watching him carefully, as was Prism, and Storm gave them both a cheery smile.

He knew it would all come out. It always did, secrets like that... like Dysmas' transformation and the way Horus knew the basics of each timeline... they always came out eventually. It left his throat feeling tight as Storm looked at the others around their campfire and he wished fervently that this particular secret stayed as a secret for a bit longer... he wanted a few more memories of this before he lost it.

... maybe he should just give them his Terminan Hero title. No, that would just give him away faster. Better to let things play out how they would and try to salvage whatever was left than to give that away and lose it all sooner.

#chained across the ages #cata storm #cata dysmas #cata horus #the others appear too #but those are the main trio

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indigo-ghost-girl · 9 months ago

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Spoilers for parts of Sonic Frontiers...

Part 1

Part 8 WIP

The air of the morning was soft, gentle. Rays of warm sunlight warming the two friends as they lay knelt among the grass. On any other day, these friends would think this a perfect opportunity for a picnic. To an outsider looking in, they would think it foolhardy not to. However, the tense, hollow atmosphere suffocating this lonely island made such thoughts impossible.

Amy’s arms felt numb. Her everything felt numb. All except her heart. It ached. The pink hedgehog knew how much Sonic hated to be trapped. But... he was strong and he would last… because it wasn’t permanent. It wasn’t, permanent.

Tails’s fingers ached. The muscles in his arms and hands worn thin. He wiggled his fingers as they lay among the grass, trying to relieve the stiffness in them. The corners of his eyes burned, having zeroed in his attention on the screen, racing against time. He shut his eyes, counting to twenty, trying to ignore the nonsense jumble of code that tumbled behind his eyelids.

The sound of huffing and hurried footsteps filled the silence.

“So… is he in?” Knuckles asked, stumbling to a stop next to them.

Tails opened his eyes, staring blankly at the space in front of him. “Yeah…” He confirmed, swallowing.

The fox shook his head sharply, snapping himself out of his daze. “If Sage was correct, we have anywhere from two minutes to five, we need to hurry.”

Tails stumbled his way to the keyboard, he frowned. The barrel of tech had begun smoking and Tails picked up the distinct smell of liquid metal and burnt rubber, the chemicals irritating the back of his throat. By the looks of things, that eldritch creature had used its last few seconds in this reality; to fry the computer. His shoulders slumped, there went the chance of salvaging any code.

The fox stiffened, a horrible vulnerability piercing right through his heart, like a cold, sharp metal needle. ‘When that thing gets out, it’ll make a beeline for me.’

He took in a deep breath and released it to the count of seven. ‘We have to focus on the now.’

Knuckles offered a hand to Amy, she silently took it, letting him pull her to her feet. She felt lighter without her rings and rose a little faster than she expected, wobbling a little when she settled on her feet.

Tails picked up the radio tentatively, carefully checking the temperature first to see if, it too, had been fried. It was cool however and he shakily brought it to his ear.

“Eggman, you still…?” the radio continued to buzz. The fox gulped, exchanging a worried glance with Amy.

Tails tapped the side of the radio with his finger, the static dissolved. The young fox fought to hear the radio over his throbbing head, beating in sync with his heartbeat. “E-Eggman?”

“My Leg! He tore off my leg!” Screamed the voice from the speaker. “Med-egg-bots, I require medical attention, get over here NOW!” He commanded.

The fox pulled the receiver from his ear for a moment, taking a short, deep breath.

“Of course,” Knuckles sighed in frustration. Amy relaxed, much to her petty dismay.

“I’ve trapped them in cyberspace, we only have a few minutes.” Tails reported, “What’s the status on Sage?”

“I don’t know!- Med-eggs get over here!”

“Remember what she said, We need to get to angel island together, fly down here so we can-” Tails reminded.

“He tore my leg off!”

Knuckles snarled, snatching the radio from Tails, “We know! Eggman, fly that thing down here before I knock it out of the sky for you!” barked the echidna.

“In a few minutes,” Eggman waved off.

“WE DONT HAVE A FEW MINUTES!” Knuckles roared. The red echidna shoved the radio back into the fox’s hands, almost pushing him over in the process.

Amy reached out, supporting his back before he fell. “Knuckles,” Amy scolded.

“Sorry,” Knuckles mumbled, stomping a few metres away, eyes fixed on a large fragment of stone, once part of the now ex- giant structure.

Tails peered up at the floating battleship, then to the red echidna winding up for a punch.

“Knuckles, aim for the red engine,” he advised.

“Right.”

With one swift punch, Knuckles sent the ancient chunk flying. The chunk tore through the protruding metal engine like cold butter through bread. With the main engine down, the smaller engines struggled to keep the others afloat. The ships autopilot went into emergency landing mode, floating down to settle on the small cluster of young trees nearby, crushing them into splinters. Amy cringed as she saw the panicked seagulls zoom out from under the trees, seconds before being crushed.

The three hopped into the hole in the side of the ship, metal bent outward as you would expect from paper pierced through by a pencil, presumably created when Metal Sonic tackled the red hedgehog into the ocean.

“Where is your Eggmobile?” Tails enquired as they approached.

Eggman was laid back in a small metal bed that seemed to have been folded out. Around him fussed two egg-shaped robots, each with their own little white hat, Eggmans eyes and signature grin plastered on their faces. They had a red cross painted on their chests. The white robots were focused on wrapping the stump of his leg in bandages.

“You just crashed my ship after I helped you! And I just lost my leg; I would have thought you of all creatures would feel some pity!” He exclaimed.

“You and your stupid machines are the reason we are in this mess in the first place!” Knuckles growled, stomping over.

One of the medical bots stopped its task and rolled over to Knuckles on its singular wheel. “Do not distress the patient,” it said flatly, voice static, raising its pincer arms. Knuckles promptly bashed its face in, flinging it into the opposite wall.

“You don’t deserve any pity.” The echidna growled, spinning on the doctor, cracking his knuckles.

“Knuckles stop,” Amy reached out a hand between the pair, “We don’t have time for this.” Amy pulled out her hammer, sliding herself between the fuming echidna and the wining doctor. “Show us where your eggmobile is.”

Amy’s gaze flickered to his right leg; her green eyes caught the light leaking in from one of the many holes in the wall. She loomed over the human, the shadow of her hammer falling over his face, “Unless you want to lose the other one.”

Eggman’s head retreated into his coat collar, suddenly the pain in his leg wasn’t at the forefront of his mind.

…

Sonic hurt. No matter where it was, his heart, his mind, his body: it didn’t matter. He just hurt.

But one thought broke through it all, the one wish of simply, “Get away,” had been repeating in his head. Over and over, that determined mantra, driving him to separate from that thing, ever since he had lost control of his limbs. To get as far away as possible.

Yet nothing he had tried had worked. No amount of screaming or struggling or fighting back did anything.

And it hurt.

His skin was on fire as a new ring reattached itself around his neck. That thing was furious. Sonic could feel its anger smouldering his insides as if it were his own. A desperate struggle for freedom.

Burning agony, that stopped so abruptly he lost all consciousness.

Then he came too, he became acutely aware of how numb he now felt. Physically at least.

…Everything was black.

He felt a strange ethereal push. It was like a rubber band, pulled so far it was ready to snap. That snap meant freedom. The ethereal feeling continued to push him, like a million hands on his back, all working together to break him through a tight, silicone wall that bent and warped.

Snap!

Light flooded Sonics vision. He gasped.

Sonic found himself crawling away. Finally, finally able to move of his own free will. Sonic staggered to his feet, stumbling forward. After a few clumsy steps he tripped on his own shoes, collapsing beside something black in the corner of his vision.

He heaved, nothing leaving his throat but a strangled wheeze. His fingers grasped at nothing, phasing through the lush holographic grass under him.

Sonic knew he wasn’t completely him when he caught sight of the translucent, light blue state of his quills. But that wasn’t at the forefront of his mind as he pulled his arms out from under him and began half crawling, half dragging himself away from the black shape.

The air around him shifted, a hot buzzing static began to grow. The heat fiercely licking away at the air.

“They... returned us here,” came a voice. Sonic jumped, spines spiking outward dangerously, head snapping back.

What met his eyes was a strange, morphed thing, a collection of deep red and purple shapes. It bubbled and span, morphed and moulded. It took shape, gaining arms and legs. Sonic squinted his eyes, something of an annoyed jab pierced his chest as the blob began to seem eerily familiar. Glowing neon rings formed themselves around the blob’s wrists, small strings of broken chains dangling loosely from them. It took the form of that of a silhouette of super sonic. Two neon purple lights pierced through the void of the blob, so intense they were white. The white lights settled on him.

Sonic pressed down hard on his fear. “Course, they did,” he smirked hopping to his feet. Sonic made a show of dusting himself off casually.

Its feet shaped void, rose from the digital ground. It stared at him. The lack of any facial features on the him shaped blob, challenged his brief composure. Sonic couldn’t tell if it was staring at him or staring at the place he just so happened to be. The blue hedgehog clenched his fists, suppressing a shiver.

A faint rumbling noise began to make itself known and Sonics uneasiness developed into mild panic. Sonic gave the imitation an apprehensive stare, taking a few steps backwards. Its neon dots followed his movements.

“No matter,” It said soullessly, “They will know their error soon enough.”

It leapt for him; hands outstretched for his face.

Sonic disappeared in a boom, speeding away into the landscape.

As he ran, Sonic slowly began to realise what his friends had meant by, “dreamlike,” now. He was floaty, his shoes were touching the grass of this mock green hill but it didn’t feel like it. The blades didn’t rustle under him. The legs under him felt much of the same, almost as if he were a digital ghost.

It was disorienting, like his brain was struggling to tell up from down. He had his vision but that was it. It was reminiscent of the effects of the phantom ruby; sending his sense of gravity spiralling.

Sonic scowled, he despised it, it made the nauseous feeling he kept pushing down into his stomach harder to contain. It rose and wavered, higher and higher as it threatened to overwhelm him. Sonic brought a gloved hand to his mouth.

Come on Sonic pull yourself together! He scolded himself.

Sonic took a small detour, dashing into the cover of a small tunnel in the wall. He slid to a stop in the cool shadows.

The hedgehog took a moment to breathe. He was... detached but still so incredibly nauseous.

Sonic gulped: he felt sick. This whole situation was sick. That ancient eldritch thing, was sick. It had sat by and made him watch as it had tormented his friends. Threatening them with his voice. Burning them with his hands. Throwing them around like ragdolls with his powers. Like it was all some kind of- sick game.

He fell to his knees. His mouth forced itself open, his digital stomach bubbling and slushing around inside him. It suddenly clenched tightly. The hedgehog dry-heaved, being that there was nothing to come out.

But that just made it worse. There was no end. No relief. No aftermath.

He knew that thing had been playing with his friends. Toying with them! He had felt it holding itself back. Even now he couldn’t help but feel he was being watched.

Sonic found himself having to fight against his body’s confused instincts. Cyberspace was meant to store memories, having the accidental aftereffect of storing souls. It wasn’t made to be lived in by sentient creatures. He wasn’t built for this dimension. His soul was still reacting as if he were alive and in his own body, copying what it had come to expect.

His stomach clenched about four times before Sonic managed to swallow, cutting off the reaction.

Rage and terror puddled itself in his gut as his skin crawled, head spinning.

Crack!

He leapt up at the sudden noise, hairs and spines on end. The crack had been quiet but it had sent the hedgehog into a small frenzy.

In his panic he stumbled backwards, something crunched under his left foot. His blue quills flung around as his head span around. Nothing was behind him other than the checkered wall of rock. His cloudy green eyes flickered around frantically, before they zeroed in on the broken remains of two white claws on the grassy floor.

“Oh... heh heh,” Sonic awkwardly laughed.

A blue bullet shot from the cave.

His left leg fell out from under him, something rolling under his foot. Only just managing to catch himself before he fell, the hedgehog stumbled to a stop. He tossed his head back to see what had tripped him up.

A leg.

A leg still wrapped in the shiny black leather boot, decorated with silver buckles. It sat in a small puddle of crimson, slowly leaking into the distorted grass.

Sonic gulped, eyes glued to the disembodied leg. He couldn’t look away. No matter how much his stomach squirmed. A sick satisfaction niggled in the back of his mind. He felt a warm something dripping from the corner of his mouth.

That sickly feeling was back, dangerously close to locking him into another dry heaving cycle. Sonic shook his head, tearing his eyes away. He violently wiped his mouth, refusing to look at his gloves.

“I require your assistance.” came a calm, yet still somehow demanding voice.

Sonic startled. Spines raised. He span in a blue of blur.

The black silhouette lowered down before him. Sonic’s body tensed, lowering, fingers splayed in preparation to fight.

“Mortal, return to your body,” It stated. “We cannot leave separated as we are.”

Sonic rose his fists. Perhaps he could keep them both here long enough for Tails to prepare whatever plan they had been talking about.

“Make me!”

#Guess what!! my uni course is finished!#Back to this :)#I'm hoping to spend more time on this now #no promises tho #The desperation of the end #Desperation!Sonic #End!Sonic?#Part 7 #Got back to things after i remembered it existed #Sonic Au #Sonic fanfiction #sonic frontiers spoilers #sonic frontiers #One of these days ill start scattering illustrations throughout these like they do in some books that'd be cool #Also i just wanna say i have nothing against disabled people or think they deserve their struggles #these are just characters saying things in the heat of the moment #they dont reflect my actual options

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